by Jean Oram
Ryan looked away, his jaw so tight she could practically feel the tension radiating through his temples.
She pushed on his arm, wishing he’d look at her and see that she wasn’t asking for more than he could offer. The ring was about her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I thought we were going to be open and honest with each other. To the point of brutality.”
“I am being honest.”
“Haven’t you noticed we can tell when the other person isn’t speaking the truth? I’ve freaked you out.”
Ryan rolled his shoulders as if trying to dispel the urge to run. She was pressing him, crossing lines, but she didn’t care. This was important. If she let it go, it might hover between them forever.
“This is bugging you?” She pointed to her finger.
“I’m not ready to replace that piece of jewelry.”
“Who asked you to?” She crossed her arms, feeling very much like the woman who’d fired a shotgun into the sky last month.
“Taking that ring off means you’re ready for something that was never part of our bargain.”
“Maybe I took it off because I’m ready to take it off.”
He shook his head. “I swore I’d never be here again.”
“Where?”
“Looking at marriage.”
She laughed, her chest aching with the harshness of the sound that creaked out of her. “Well, you do whatever you want, but if you were to ask me to marry you, I’d send you packing. Just so you know.”
His eyes caught hers, that assessing look that probed deep within her. She spread her arms, showing she had nothing to hide, no ulterior motives.
“Nothing has changed,” she said. “And just so you know, maybe I swore I’d never be here again, either.”
“And where are you?”
“Offering more of my heart than is likely wise.”
He had moved away from her, until several feet stretched between them. “I made it clear—”
“This isn’t about you!” She pointed to her finger, feeling the tears well up despite her wish that they’d dry up. “Why do men always want to make my life about them? Like my actions are some big earthquake about to upset the balance in their world? It’s my life. My dreams. My thoughts. My healing. Not yours. So back it up a step!”
He inhaled as though bracing himself for a blow.
She couldn’t meet his gaze for a moment, knowing she wasn’t being fully up-front. It hadn’t just been for her. It had also been for him, for his reputation.
“Carly, this isn’t a great time for me to be dealing with this.”
She shook her head, realizing he was talking about the championship. And that whatever they were dealing with as a couple wasn’t important enough to be on his radar, wasn’t worth dealing with right now.
Her expression must have shown how she felt, because he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to discount you, or us, or this.”
She remained stiff in his embrace, not wanting to care as much as she did.
When she didn’t relax, Ryan gently tipped her face upward. “Are you okay?”
“This ring is about me, Ryan. I didn’t put it on or take it off because I’m playing games or expect things or am jealous of the attention and focus you need to place on the game and your players. It just felt like it was the right time in my life to remove it.”
His brow furrowed. “You didn’t wear it for Peter, did you?”
He was quiet, close to her, his body warm and tight to hers, refusing to let her go until she softened against him. It was the first time he hadn’t shied away from asking for more about her past, and she allowed herself a moment to let that sink in.
“It’s not Peter’s, but people assume it is. I pawned that ring. I didn’t want to see it again, and I figured it owed me something. It wasn’t worth much, sadly.”
“Where did this one come from?”
“It was my father’s.”
“Is he gone?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t fit him any longer, and he never wore it on the farm, anyway. He gave it to me when Peter and I got engaged, but it never felt right giving it to Peter. I put it on after I got burned in that business deal, as a reminder that I need to come first in my life.”
She waited for Ryan to ask for details about the deal so she could finally confess.
“I don’t need to be alone to heal and move on,” she finally said, when he didn’t speak. “It seems I just need the right people in my life.” The roar of fear caused ringing in her ears as she spoke the truth, worried Ryan might react again, might assume she was expecting more than he was offering.
With resolve, she looked up at him, locking her gaze on his. She was going to put it all out there. If he didn’t like it, he could walk away.
“Everything works out if you have good people in your life,” she said.
10
Carly and Jackie walked the few blocks from their Dallas hotel to the one where Ryan and the football team had stayed. The team would play a morning game in the Cowboys’ stadium, since another high school playoff, for a larger division, was slated for that afternoon. After today’s win or loss, the team would take the long drive home. Hopefully in triumph.
The cheerleaders had their own bus to take them to the stadium, but being part of the football team, Carly and Jackie would ride with the athletes.
The team and various supporters were already gathered around the charter bus that had been arranged for the occasion. Jackie, spotting Maria Wylder, who’d just flown in from a quick vacation in Indigo Bay, South Carolina went over to chat. The mayor of Sweetheart Creek, Travis Nestner, and his wife, Donna, were talking to Daisy-Mae, who was fixing the red and white ribbons in Mrs. Fisher’s hairdo.
Carly mingled, chatting with people and wishing the boys luck as they climbed into the bus. They weren’t due to pull out for another twenty minutes, but people were congregating, eager for the day’s game. Even Maverick Blades, Ryan and Myles’s old friend who played in the NHL, was there signing autographs and wishing the team luck.
Everything was perfect. Carly had been worried when Tuesday’s preliminary hearing in Montana had been postponed, due to the judge being under the weather. She’d waited, certain Murphy’s Law would have the hearing rescheduled for the same day as the state championship match. But the call hadn’t come, giving her a chance to attend the last game of the season.
Carly felt a familiar tingle of anticipation and turned around, spotting Ryan. He was striding toward her in his red coaching jacket and a black cowboy hat. The hat was an interesting touch, and she wondered why he’d chosen it instead of a Torpedoes ball cap like usual. He briefly gripped the brim of his hat, dipping his head as he approached her.
“Mighty formal of you,” she teased.
“How’s this for formal?” He snagged her hand and pulled her to the far side of the bus, where it was more private, before gliding his arms around her waist and tugging her against his chest for a kiss. His mouth angled over hers, drawing her in like he always did.
The kiss left her breathless and giddy, as did the idea of no longer having to hide their kisses or how they felt about each other.
“I love it when you kiss me like that,” she whispered.
“And I love you,” he said, playfully tapping the end of her nose. He froze as he realized what he’d said. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment.
“You know,” Ryan said, after clearing his throat, “in an independent way.”
Carly laughed, happiness welling up inside her as she placed her cool hands on his warm cheeks, drinking him in. Her boyfriend. Her boyfriend who had just let it slip that he loved her.
He had shaved recently, his skin smooth and soft as she pulled his lips to hers for another kiss.
“It’s okay,” she said, when they broke apart. “I happen to love you in an independent way, as well.” She r
ested her forehead against his, knocking his hat farther back on his head.
A chilly December breeze whisked across the parking lot, wrapping itself around them. In her bubble of happiness, Carly barely noticed the cold or the gloomy clouds brewing to the west. She had everything she needed right here with this man, and he would keep her safe and warm in any storm.
“Have I told you how cute you look in your stats-keeper outfit?” Ryan asked, looking at her legging-clad legs.
“It must’ve slipped your mind.”
“Well, I’m telling you now it looks good. And if you want to sit beside me on the bus, that seat will be vacant.”
“You’re kicking Myles out of his seat?”
“It’s for a worthy cause.” He gave her a crooked grin, looking slightly mischievous in his black hat. With his hands around her waist, he pulled her in for another kiss.
“I think a seat reassignment could be arranged then.”
“There’s a condition,” he warned.
“What’s that?” Would he need her to kiss him again? Or refrain from doing so around his players?
“Don’t distract me when I get into game mode.” His eyes were bright with a hint of heat and longing as his grip tightened on her waist. He gave a rusty-sounding sigh before releasing her with what looked like regret.
“Who, me? Distract you?” She pressed a hand against her chest as though surprised by the claim.
Ryan’s eyes traced her movements, his pupils widening. “I have a feeling it’s something you do without even realizing it.” He slipped her another kiss and she wrapped her arms around him. “Maybe I should arrange for you to ride with the cheer team.”
“You couldn’t handle being that far from me for that long.”
Ryan plunked his hat on her curls and steered her around to the other side of the bus where the crowd of fans, families and players had grown. He whisked her up the bus’s steps while she held the precariously perched hat. She claimed a seat for them near the front, and Ryan continued past, doing a roll call of players. She watched him retreat down the aisle, enjoying the view of her cowboy.
Smiling, she fished her phone from her pocket when it rang.
“Carly Clarke?”
“Speaking.”
“Thank goodness. I was worried we’d have to charge you for being in contempt of court.”
“What?” The air rushed from her lungs.
The clerk rattled off Carly’s landline number. “Sorry I forgot to try your cell until now. But I’ve been calling that other number since yesterday to inform you that your preliminary hearing will proceed this afternoon.”
“Today?” Her heart dropped. It would take her hours to get to Montana, and that was if she could get a flight.
“The judge has scheduled you for three thirty this afternoon.”
Three thirty? She was still in Texas!
“I…”
“I trust you’re staying in Montana as recommended?”
Carly uttered something unintelligible. With the courts not giving her a timeline, she hadn’t known what day to reschedule her flight for, and had left her ticket open. She’d received the impression that the court’s rescheduling could take days—which it had.
“Please check in, then proceed to Courtroom One when you arrive.”
Carly dropped the phone back in her purse, her spirits plummeting.
Dallas had a huge airport. There had to be lots of direct flights from here. Maybe she could help at today’s game and still make it to court on time.
She pulled out her phone again and scrolled through an online booking system. Flight after flight was marked as full. She furiously checked again. There was one flight available and the timing was tight.
She needed about thirty minutes to get to the airport from the stadium. The flight itself was about three hours. There was a one-hour time zone difference in her favor, meaning if everything, including the game, went flawlessly she could miraculously squeak in on time. But she had to tell Ryan.
As the bus driver shifted into gear, heading toward the stadium, Carly felt the pressure under her ribs increasing.
Ryan fell into the seat beside her, his expression relaxed. “I think today’s game’s going to be great. Everything’s in that flow state, you know?” He glanced over at her and she pasted a bright smile on her face even though inside she was panicking.
She couldn’t tell him. Not now. It would break his flow state, but so would taking off before the game ended.
He glanced around for onlookers before leaning in for a quick, soft kiss, looking like a man whose entire life was falling into place.
“Ryan… I…”
His expression was tender as he tucked one of her curls behind her ear. “Don’t distract me with those big eyes of yours and that beautiful mouth.” He turned to face the front of the bus, his focus returning to business. “We need this win. This is what I’ve been working toward. I’ve missed it in the past, but this year… This year we’re getting it!” He turned with a grin and kissed her again.
She fought the tears that wanted to come. She needed to tell him. Now.
“Hey, Ryan?” Myles leaned across the aisle to ask something about one of their plays, and the two brothers began strategizing.
She’d left Ryan in the dark for too long, taking the easy way out and using his wish to leave their pasts behind them as an excuse. But their lives were interconnected enough for her court appearance to matter. This would never become the real relationship they were rocketing toward if she continued to keep it from him.
She had to take that flight. But if she didn’t tell Ryan, she would be sprinting into the parking lot as the game ended with a quick “Have to be in court in Montana. Explain later. Love you! Bye!” And that was seriously uncool.
But she also needed to protect him. If she tugged on his sleeve right now and spilled it all, she might distract him from important mental game prep. And if they lost because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
Anyway, it was her problem, her past, her life. She was being independent while also being there when Ryan needed her. Just like he wanted.
Her heart sank as the truth elbowed its way in. Her justifications were weak. Everything about her omission reeked of being a deal breaker.
She’d painted herself into this corner and her only valid plan was to keep Ryan in the dark until the last moment, and hope for the best.
Ryan paced the hall outside the locker room designated for the Sweetheart Creek Torpedoes. The game started in less than an hour. By noon, this season’s fate would be sealed.
Absolutely no pressure.
He was calmer than he’d expected. Maybe it was because he’d come this far before and faced the worst—a loss. But this year, with Carly on their side, they’d win. He could feel it.
He’d nearly lost his mind when he noticed she’d removed her ring. He’d made it about him, and what she might want from him. It had quickly become clear the ring was a tool she’d used as part of her healing process. A good boyfriend would have known that and been happy for her.
He’d caught himself, though. But not until after she’d given him heck.
He chuckled at the memory. Maybe it was the ring’s removal coinciding with him picking up a Christmas gift for her the day before that had sent him for that mental loop. He’d spotted a cute shovel charm bracelet and had bought it for her. He’d planned to simply give it to her, but so soon after their first fight it had felt like a significant peace offering for what had simply been a minor freakout moment.
Still, he worried that her removing the ring might mean she expected more of him. And as it was, he already had moments where the proverbial torrent of muddy floodwaters seemed to be swirling around him, swallowing him like it had when he was a child, unrelenting as it pushed him toward a serious relationship. In other moments, he smiled just thinking about her.
He entered the bustling locker room, where, earlier, a clean jersey had been hung at each locker.
Now they were on the players, the final countdown to the season’s last game underway.
It was time to focus on what mattered: the game. Carly was here, helping, and wasn’t about to leave or upend his life. She wanted nothing more serious than he did. Other than the ring blip, they seemed to be totally in step, and she’d proved she was someone he could trust.
He spotted her mass of curls almost immediately across the crowded room, where she was bent over the stats tablet with Jackie. Ryan took a moment to drink her in, the floodwaters of fear receding.
Myles was amped up, serving as the perfect counter for Ryan’s quiet demeanor. In life the two brothers often balanced each other, and game day was no different.
As the players moved into their pre-game warm-up, Ryan paused to watch part of Karen’s cheerleaders’ routine before he went to chat with the opposing team’s coaches. It was tradition for him to say hello, shake their hands, as well as the officials’.
Myles said he preferred to avoid looking their competition in the eye until he was victorious. But Ryan found if he chatted with the other coaches it gave him insight into their attitudes and personalities, which often translated into something useful. And speaking to the officials? It showed he was human, and while it didn’t lend a specific bias, it sometimes felt as though the benefit of the doubt was granted where it might not have been otherwise.
Ryan inhaled the stadium air, rolling his shoulders. It was growing louder inside, with fans filtering in from their early morning parking lot tailgate parties. The sky above was gray, the translucent panels in the stadium’s retractable roof murky. Inside, they were protected, allowing the weather to do what it wanted. There would be no game delays, nothing unpredictable to mess with the flow of positive energy he was feeling.
He waved as he caught an image of himself on the massive screen hanging above the field. Some of his players freaked out at the enormity of the stadium and being the focus of everyone’s attention. Others reveled in it, promising him they would work hard and make the Cowboys’ team someday. None had so far.