On the Line

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On the Line Page 7

by Liz Lincoln


  “So you’re basically a stay-at-home mom.”

  Oh God. She totally was.

  “I mean, Sophie’s mom always read magazines like Martha Stewart Living instead of comics. But otherwise you sound like her.” Maddie’s expression was a mix of amusement and pity.

  “I should work on my comic book series idea.” The words were out before Carrie knew she was thinking them.

  Maddie sat up a little straighter, pushing her brown ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re gonna write a comic book?”

  “I’m not sure. And it wouldn’t be a typical one, with superheroes or aliens or anything.” She and her best friend, Amy, had toyed with the idea for years, ever since they took their first education classes in college. “I won’t bore you with details, but I’d like to make graphic textbooks. For kids who don’t learn as well by reading.”

  Maddie’s face lit up, her wide smile so much like her dad’s. Except without the devastatingly sexy element that made Carrie’s stomach feel like she was on a roller coaster.

  “That would be so cool! Like, I don’t mind reading in some subjects. But man, if I could have a graphic novel for history instead of that blah blah blah boring crap, it would be so much better.”

  Which was exactly what she and Amy wanted.

  “Can you draw?” Maddie asked.

  Carrie gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I do a passable stick figure. But my best friend is also a comic book geek and an art teacher. It would be a joint project.”

  Maddie bounced in her seat. “You totally have to do that! And I can be, like, your test subject. Ooh, and my new friend Emilia would too, I bet. She’s in the school comics club with me, and we’re in some classes together. She’s really good at social studies, but she hates science and math. So she could be the guinea pig for those.” The girl’s head nodded so fast, she seemed in danger of losing it.

  Carrie laughed again, this time at Maddie’s unbridled enthusiasm. “I’m doing a panel about comics in curriculum at C3PCon. Maybe I’ll see what the feedback is from that and go from there.”

  “Wait, you can’t go to C3PCon.” Maddie’s face fell. “Who’s going to take care of me?”

  Carrie sighed. That was the one conflict she had. She could cancel her panels. But she really didn’t want to. “I need to talk to your dad about it.” She set the last folded shirt on the pile and transferred the folded clothes into the now-empty basket.

  “I could go with you,” Maddie said shyly.

  There was no way Carrie was signing on to be in charge of a twelve-year-old at a comics and cosplay convention. Too much potential for bad things to happen. Plus, cons were her one time to let loose. Embrace the anonymity given by her costume and flirt and have fun in a way she couldn’t when she was regular Carrie in Milwaukee. Her only one-night stands had been at cons.

  She couldn’t do any of that and look after a child. She could always be more responsible, take Maddie with her, and act more like a nanny. But that was more responsibility than she was willing to take on.

  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea….”

  “I guess I can stay at Lem’s.”

  Carrie recognized the name of Lem Feu’u, one of Seth’s teammates who had been friends with him and Jason in college. Seemed like Jace was using his position as a talent scout to bring all his college buddies to Milwaukee. Or at least two of them. Seth had also given Carrie Sarah Feu’u’s phone number in case she ever needed anything and couldn’t reach Seth or Lem. Sarah juggled four kids when her husband was on the road. Carrie would be a horrible person if she foisted a fifth on her.

  “Wait, what weekend is C3PCon?” Maddie popped up and headed to the kitchen.

  “Second weekend in October.” Which was coming entirely too quickly. Carrie needed to update her talk. Good thing she had infinite time on her hands, it seemed.

  Maddie flipped to the next month on the huge calendar that hung on the pantry door. “That’s Dad’s bye week. We could totally go!” She bounced up and down again, clapping her hands. “Ooh, that would be so fun!”

  We? As in Maddie…and Seth? No no no no nononononono. That would be very bad. Then Seth would see her in her sexy Poison Ivy costume. And she wouldn’t be able to flirt and hook up if he were there.

  Her eyes snagged on the microwave clock: 4:35. Shoving the cosplay convention out of her head, she pushed the laundry basket aside so she could join Maddie in the kitchen. “We need to leave in forty-five minutes, so I better get started on something to eat.” She and Maddie had worked out that their big dinner should wait until after Maddie’s swim practice. But she always needed a little something before to get her through. The girl couldn’t go until after seven o’clock on an empty stomach.

  Carrie consulted the list she’d made of good pre-workout snacks. “You want peanut butter toast with a banana?” she asked.

  “Fine.” Maddie rolled her eyes. “You’re a total stay-at-home mom.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes right back. Sometimes the best way to deal with tween behavior was with tween behavior. Even if she did feel a little silly. “Get the banana.” She nodded at the fruit bowl on the island as she opened the pantry door to get the bread and peanut butter.

  As they waited for the toaster, Maddie said, “I mean, I guess you’re like a stay-at-home mom. It’s not like I’ve ever had a mom.”

  “Never?” Carrie didn’t want to pry, but she was curious about Maddie’s mom.

  Which in no way was because she was Seth’s ex.

  Maddie shook her head. “She moved away when I was a baby.”

  Carrie couldn’t stop her surprise from showing. “Really?”

  Maddie’s expression hardened, the cheerful girl gone. “She and Dad never actually dated. He doesn’t say it, but I know I was a drunk hookup.”

  Carrie bit hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from wincing.

  “She couldn’t handle it, so she moved back to her dinky little West Texas town before I turned one. I never talk to her.” She toyed with the stem of her banana, not meeting Carrie’s gaze.

  Carrie’s heart ached for the girl. It was obvious how painful the rejection was for her.

  “I just wish I could talk to her. Know a little more about her. What she’s like. Maybe she’d even—” Her voice caught. “Want to meet me now that I’m grown up.”

  This poor, poor girl. Of course Seth loved her very much, and undoubtedly so did her grandparents and other family. But no one could replace a mom.

  “Maybe you could talk to your dad.” She cringed almost before the words were out. She should not get involved in stuff about their family. It wasn’t her place.

  But she would have given a student the same advice. Trying to keep the frustration off her face, Carrie shoved her hand into her hair. How could she steer the conversation back to cosplay?

  “Nah, he doesn’t like talking about her. And when she calls, he doesn’t let me talk to her.”

  That didn’t seem like something Seth would do. Then again, how well did she actually know him? “Well, maybe you can talk to him about that. See if you can get in touch with her. Maybe he knows her email, if you think the phone would be too much to start.”

  She needed to shut up. It really wasn’t her place. But that forlorn look in Maddie’s eyes was devastating.

  The toaster popped, startling Carrie. And saving her.

  This conversation was a good reminder that though her new job might make her feel domestic, like a stay-at-home mom, she wasn’t Maddie’s mom.

  And she definitely wasn’t a part of the family.

  Chapter 6

  The Dragons’ facility was massive. Carrie didn’t know a ton about sports facilities, but she’d been to Bucks basketball games and Brewers baseball games. Neither Miller Park nor the Bucks arena downtown were as overwhelmingly impressive as MacArthur Field. As a newer team, the Dragons didn’t have the storied history attached to their stadium, unlike Lambeau Field to the north or Soldier Field to the
south. But Carrie was willing to bet they might in another decade.

  She was far from shy, but she still felt incredibly awkward wandering the halls with Seth’s tablet. He’d left it at home that morning and sent a text begging her to bring it before his afternoon meetings, when he would need his playbook and all the notes he’d made during his day off yesterday. Wasn’t like she was doing anything else. Season four of Charmed could wait.

  She needed to find another hobby.

  An older man, probably a coach, had directed her toward the practice field. He suggested she ask her husband for a family access pass, then walked off before she could correct him. For possibly the millionth time in two weeks, Carrie was struck by how domesticated her life had become since becoming a nanny. In hindsight, it probably should have been obvious. But she was still a single woman with no kids, so it was a major adjustment.

  It had been two weeks now. Two weeks they’d been living in the same space. Two weeks since he’d backed her up against a car and kissed the hell out of her. Two weeks of making him dinner and folding his Tshirts and bidding him good night. Two weeks of domestic bliss.

  Except he was her boss. Darn that pesky detail. Unfortunately, that detail had done nothing to dampen how much she wanted him. She still fell asleep reliving that one amazing kiss. Still woke up wondering what could happen if she snuck into his room before Maddie woke up.

  Surely her desire would start to fade as the kiss got farther behind them.

  Finally she turned the corner and saw the entrance to the field. After the dim hallways, the sunlight was glaring. Carrie tipped her sunglasses down from where she’d pushed them onto her head, but she still needed to squint.

  Gradually the picture unfolded in front of her. A few dozen men milled around in clumps, working through various football moves. Older men in Dragons caps yelled instructions at them.

  A group of seven men ran sprints up and down the end zone closest to her, all shirtless. Among the shirtless men, Carrie caught the flip of a golden ponytail.

  Her stomach bottomed out.

  Of course he was in the half-naked group. Of course she was going to be forced to look at all those muscles, damp with sweat. And she had to do it without drooling on her boss or pressing her lips to his chest.

  Damn his forgetfulness. She should be at home right now, watching Charmed and doodling stick figures as she brainstormed her earth science textbook.

  She forced her attention to the quarterback, number 16, who was practicing short tosses to number 27. Twenty-seven took the ball, tucked it into his side, and ran.

  Carrie watched practice and tried not to choke on her tongue at how hot Seth looked. A few minutes later, one of the coaches told them all to break for lunch. Carrie watched Seth jog across the field, his face breaking into a grin when he saw her.

  He stopped in front of her, his chest all muscles and sweat and tanned deliciousness. “Hey. You have any trouble getting here?”

  It took a moment too long for his question to register; she was distracted by his flat pecs. They were perfect—toned, but not bulging and veiny. She wanted to run her nails down them, just to see how he’d react.

  When she finally processed what he’d said, she had to mentally shake herself. “Yeah, no problem. I ran into someone who helped me out.”

  Silence hovered between them, edging on awkward.

  “Your tablet!” She was so smooth.

  Seth gave her a confused look.

  She shoved the device at him. “You needed your tablet. The whole reason I’m here.”

  “Right.” He took it from her, shaking his head. “Sun must have gotten to me while I was running.”

  He took a few steps back, moving in the direction his teammates were wandering off the field. Then he stopped. “You want a tour or anything?”

  She couldn’t care less about the layout of the stadium, yet when she opened her mouth to decline, “Sure” popped out.

  What?

  His mouth didn’t move, but there was a smile in his eyes. “Great.” He gestured for her to follow him. “Let me grab a towel and a shirt, and I can show you around a little bit.”

  Before she could stop herself, she said, “My imagination didn’t do you justice.” Immediately her face heated. Her cheeks were probably approximately the same flaming color as her hair.

  Seth frowned, tipping his head to the side in question.

  She couldn’t look him in the face, but when she dropped her gaze, that was no better. Because now she was staring at the beautifully sculpted chest she was referencing.

  “A, uh, a few weeks ago I told you I’d had, um, I imagined what your”—she gestured weakly to his torso—“muscles might look like.” She cleared her throat to try to get rid of the tightness there. She wasn’t prone to unthinking outbursts, so what the hell was she doing today?

  “Oh, right. Sure.” He shifted his weight, his hand lifting to scratch his beard. She’d already identified that as his go-to move when he felt awkward.

  Perfect. Good job, Carrie.

  “So, uh, tour?” Another weak hand gesture, this time in the direction of the few remaining players.

  “Right.” He turned away and started toward the field exit.

  Silently Carrie followed him, glancing up at the massive stands. She didn’t know the seating capacity, just that it was one of the largest in the NFL. MacArthur Field boasted the newest and best of everything. Jumbotron seemed a misnomer for the monstrosities in both end zones; gigantitron would be more appropriate.

  They ended up in another concrete passageway, this one sloping downward to yet another corridor. Players came in and out of a pair of metal doors. On the adjacent wall, a burgundy sign read Dragons Locker Room in silver letters.

  “Locker room, obviously.” Seth pointed at the door. “Wait here, I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  “No problem.”

  Except the moment he disappeared, she was again struck with awkwardness. Every man who walked past her gave her an assessing look. Carrie leaned against the far wall and focused on not chewing her lip. Trying not to stare, she noted the men trickling out. They’d changed out of their pads and jerseys and now were wearing athletic shorts and tees, most with the Dragons’ logo.

  She recognized the quarterback, Matt Baxter, walking with two massive men who had to be linemen. They were each easily over three hundred pounds. Between them, Baxter looked almost slim.

  Other players had faces she had seen on billboards or in TV commercials, but she couldn’t put names to them.

  Thankfully Seth returned within a few minutes. He’d put on a gray tee with a small Dragons logo on the left chest, his hair still damp at the temples but his cheeks less flushed. He carried a plastic water bottle in one hand.

  “So you saw the field and the locker room. I can show you where we get our PT and the cafeteria.” He started down the hall, gesturing for her to follow. “I gotta head that way for some lunch anyway.”

  “Sure.”

  They walked in silence for a minute, then reached a set of glass double doors. Through them, padded tables, massage tables perhaps, were scattered around the large room, along with workout stations. It looked similar to the physical therapy clinic she’d gone to briefly after breaking her ankle in college. A sign above the doors read Physical Therapy.

  “This is where I spend more time than I’d like, but we have great trainers, so they at least make it pleasant.”

  Before Carrie could ask why he spent so much time in PT, a tall—who was she kidding? They were all tall—black man with dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail came out the doors.

  “What’s up, man?” the guy asked Seth, though his gaze lingered on Carrie.

  Even she recognized tight end Marcus James. His face was all over local ads, and given her attraction to men with long hair, she took notice.

  “Heading to lunch in a minute.” Seth gestured to Carrie. “Carrie was nice enough to save my ass and bring my tablet, so I�
��m showing her around. Carrie Heron, Marcus James. Marcus, Carrie.”

  Marcus grinned, showing off straight white teeth. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

  Carrie returned the grin, because holy shit, up close Marcus was even more attractive. He didn’t make her heart pound or her skin buzz the way Seth did, but still. She wasn’t immune to other sexy men.

  A good sign, if she was ever going to get over Seth.

  Marcus’s hand was huge—the better to catch footballs with, my dear—and hers disappeared in the handshake. Again, it excited her a little to be touching his hand. But also again, it lacked the zing of Seth’s touch.

  Dammit.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Another hand rested on the small of her back, and double dammit, there was that zing. “We should get going.” Seth used gentle pressure to move her along.

  “See you around,” Marcus said as he headed in the opposite direction.

  Seth didn’t take his hand away once they were moving again. Carrie refused to enjoy it. Instead, she decided to do maybe a little teasing.

  “He’s even better-looking in person. Billboards don’t do him justice.”

  Seth shot her a hard glance. “I think he’s married.”

  At least they were in the same boat, both still fighting their attraction. Only jealousy could be fueling his sudden surliness. She tried not to smile as she said, “Nope. No serious girlfriend either.”

  “Yeah? When did you become an expert on James?”

  Because he was Amy’s favorite player, and even though she lived with her boyfriend, she kept up to date on all Marcus James news. But Carrie wasn’t going to admit that.

  So she shrugged and changed the subject. “Can you take me up to Jason’s office? Maybe I’ll see if he wants to grab lunch.”

  Seth’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Sure. No idea if he’s around today, but I can take you up there.” He took his hand away and Carrie tried not to be disappointed.

 

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