HARDPRESSED (Ocean Falls Trilogy Book 1)

by Peyton Storm

  My dad. God love him.

  I decided against bringing up the tickets. Opening day was still months away. A lot could happen between now and then. Paisley had color pages and crayons scattered across the entire living room floor. Dad and I looked on as she filed each finished piece away in her binder. After her third yawn, I rose to my feet, ready to see her to bed.

  “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  Dad smiled down at Paisley when she wrapped her hand around his thumb and led him towards the hallway.

  “G’night, Mama.”

  “G’night, Peanut.”

  Dad hesitated a moment, and so I figured he may need to get home after all. “Ya know I don’t mind staying a bit. In case you need to run any errands, tie up any loose ends.”

  I didn’t even spare a glance in the mirror before rushing out to turn the ignition.

  Greyson didn’t answer the door, and as tempting as it was, I refrained from texting Dax. I still wasn’t sure what his take on me was. Maybe Greyson was in the shower, or on a business call. I quickly regretted my impulse drive to his hotel. I shouldn’t have just shown up unannounced. And yet I was quick to ring his phone one more time as I made my way back towards the hotel lobby.

  I still couldn’t believe how gorgeous it was on the inside. Sure, I’d driven past it numerous times but never stepped inside. It seemed so out of place in our quaint little town. The fancy hotel was for the big wigs, CEOs, and presidents who came into town for the chemical plants. They weren’t about to stay at the local mom and pop places.

  “He took off about forty-five minutes or so ago.” The guy behind the front desk had been in my English class for three years straight, beginning with my freshman year. “Seemed to be going for a run.”

  I was just that obvious apparently. Nope. Not awkward at all.

  “Oh. Okay. I mean, thank you!”

  And I scurried out the door as fast as I could.

  I drove to the first place that came to mind. Back in high school, the football field had always been Greyson’s safe place. He must have been deep in thought because he never once turned in my direction. Not at the sound of my car nor my door closing behind me. I paused for a few moments, thinking again that maybe it had been a bad idea. Still, something had led him to the field, and I thought that maybe he needed someone to talk to.

  I hopped the fence like I’d done countless times before. He seemed happy to see me yet didn’t go into much, if any, detail as to what had led him there in the first place. When I initially set out to find him that night, my sole intention was to make sure he was okay. Between my dad and Carter, the situation was taxing. Greyson didn’t need me to coddle him, and truth be told, maybe he did need to hear some hard truths. I guess, in a way, I just needed to see for myself that he hadn’t run away. Not again.

  The sight and smell of the old football field brought so much back to the surface. It took me back to not only where we once were but also where I’d once thought we would eventually be. I slipped, thought out loud, but he brought me back with a taste of our present. For a few fleeting moments, we were those kids again, high school sweethearts who loved, laughed, and breathed one another in.

  It felt as though it’d been so long ago and yet just yesterday all at the same time. Our time was short-lived, though, and as we ran back to my car, the rain began to fall harder. But it was enough for me to decide it was time for him to get to know Paisley. If we both didn’t end up with pneumonia, of course.

  Flirting was a lost art, something I hadn’t realized I missed. The tease would make the delivery all the sweeter. I drove away, leaving both of us hot and quite a bit bothered.

  I turned the key slowly, even though Paisley was nowhere near a light sleeper. Dad liked to read at night, which often resulted in him dozing off, and I was careful not to startle him. Once I stepped inside, it was me who was startled. Instead of reading, Dad had the TV remote in hand while his other was wrist-deep in a bowl of popcorn. He barely acknowledged my arrival but slid the bowl towards me when I joined him on the couch.

  He was fixated on a sports segment, just like I’d been just a few nights before. Greyson’s name was mentioned a couple times, nothing too in-depth, and Dad stayed silent, taking it all in. The projected landing spots for the top draft prospects would be the top sports headline for the next few weeks.

  I was ashamed to admit that once Greyson had left town, I pretty much abandoned the game I’d adored so much growing up. I guess in my heart of hearts, I always knew he would go pro one day, and at the time, I not only needed distance from the thoughts of him but also from the game we both loved. Both Dad and Carter had planted the seed with Paisley. It wasn’t something she and I really shared. Maybe it was high time to change that.

  Just as I thought to ask Dad if he anticipated any trades during the draft this year, I glanced over to find him fast asleep. My lumpy old couch would do a real number on his back, so while not an easy task, I did manage to walk him down the hall and tuck him into my bed. I hit the couch that night. My only alternative was to bunk with Paisley, which usually ended up with little toes pressed against the small of my back. Instead, I grabbed a blanket, double-stacked the throw pillows, and grabbed my phone.

  Me: Hi.

  Grey: Hi.

  Me: Did I wake you?

  Grey: Not at all. What’s up?

  Deep breath…

  Me: Any chance you’re free tomorrow? Around noon?

  Grey: Thinking of finishing what you started in the car?

  Not awkward, not awkward at all.

  Me: Umm, actually, I was thinking about lunch. You, me, Paisley, at our house.

  The little dots went on for what seemed to be forever, yet his reply was lackluster, to say the least.

  Grey: Oh.

  Before I could backtrack, he responded yet again.

  Grey: Time?

  Me: Noon?

  Grey: K. See you.

  Me: See you.

  I set an eight a.m. alarm before drifting off to sleep. I was sure to need a couple hours in the morning to nurse a coffee or two, and of course, to fixate on what mid-day would bring.

  Paisley woke with enough energy for the both of us. Before Dad headed home, we split a big stack of blueberry pancakes with butter and, of course, extra syrup. It was her favorite and usually a treat saved for Sunday mornings, but I needed some comfort food as well. My nerves were completely shot. Paisley, on the other hand, was so excited about our lunch guest.

  In her mind, it was a play date of sorts. I was afraid she would be disappointed to discover that not all men were like her father. Carter was a natural. Kids adored him. He never had to work at it. Never had there been a trial and error phase. He was meant to be her dad. But Greyson had been an only child, and he’d already stated he had no children of his own. I could only assume his overall time and experience with kids was limited at best, at least when it came to younger kids like Paisley. Just as the doorbell rang, it dawned on me that we hadn’t actually decided on what we’d be having for lunch. Just like most things, we’d wing it and hope for the best.

  Chapter 30

  Greyson

  My alarm went off, and it was like I hadn’t slept at all. A run, three coffees, and a shower later, I stood obsessing over which shirt to wear. I mean, khaki shorts went with everything, right?

  “Not that one,” Dax called out from behind his laptop.

  “You’re not helping. Dick.”

  He shrugged in response. “Just trying to help. But hey, tell me this. I mean, again, I have to ask. Why are you so on edge? You reconnected with the girl, had your face to face with not one but two very protective fathers, one of which being said girl’s ex. You survived both...yet now you’re ready to lose your shit over having lunch with the kid. Why?”

  He didn’t get it. I mean, how could he? Even tho
ugh we’d been just kids back then, Presley had always been it, my future. That future included kids. In my head, any kid of hers would also be mine. It wasn’t something I’d get past easily, and yeah, maybe that made me an asshole, but I wasn’t about to pat myself on the back for trying either.

  No one could possibly understand the thoughts that had run through my mind since the day that little girl stepped up to my table. I didn’t just want Paisley to accept me being a part of her mom’s life. Ultimately, I hoped she’d want me to be a part of hers, too. She’d seen me at my worst with that dickhead Brady. I didn’t regret my actions, but I did regret her being witness to it, and I hoped to prove to her that wasn’t me. At least not anymore.

  “Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.”

  It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. Not at that moment anyway.

  “There a time I need to be back? Anything scheduled?”

  Dax looked up from his laptop. “Nope. You’re good for the day. Just be ready for an early start tomorrow.”

  I gave myself yet another once over in the mirror as Dax packed up.

  “So...it’s just you, her, and the little?”

  I should have known we wouldn’t get out the door without him inquiring about Belle. Dax wasn’t one to share details, but something was definitely brewing, I was sure of it.

  “Dude, just call her.”

  He decided to act as though he hadn’t heard me. Typical.

  I drove to Presley’s home in complete silence. No music, sports radio, nothing. I even muted my phone. I thought that maybe the silent drive would help me clear my head. No such luck. Considering I arrived a full six minutes earlier than expected, the fact that I made it without being ticketed was a surprise.

  I put Weezy in park, engaged the parking brake, and began my breathing technique in hopes of taking the edge off. Coincidentally, or maybe not so much, it was the same technique I used just before every big game, every interview, and even that one time my dumb ass attempted grocery shopping on a Saturday afternoon.

  Inhale...two, three, four…

  Three minutes later, and I was locking up and making my way to her front door. I’d spent the last few years putting men five times her size on their backs, and yet that curly-haired half pint had my hand shaking as I pressed the doorbell. The pitter-patter of little feet could be heard on the other side of the door.

  “Hiiii!” She beamed up at me. Full of energy, that one.

  “Come on in!” Presley called out from the kitchen, and so I followed Paisley into the living room. Getting through was like an obstacle course. There was a teeny tiny white and yellow table set with matching teacups, a large bucket of crayons, and a stack of books that I was sure would stand taller than Paisley. Dax’s words came back to me, and just as he suggested, I let Paisley take the lead. Only she didn’t.

  I’d taken a seat on the couch while she decided to sit directly across from me, swinging her legs back and forth while perched on the coffee table, looking at me, waiting not so patiently. Right. Like I knew what to say or do. My God, what was taking Presley so long?

  “Mama got me a special polish. I bet your nails will be dry before it’s even time to eat!”

  Wait, what? I hadn’t signed up for this.

  “I even have your favorite color!”

  She didn’t wait for a response from me. She simply jumped to her feet, grabbed my wrist, and led me to the tiny tea table I’d sidestepped on my way in.

  “Umm, you know what? I don’t think your chairs will hold me.”

  “Sit!” she insisted, and so I did. “Daddy sits there all the time.”

  Daddy.

  From there, I decided to swallow my pride instead of trying to negotiate with a four-year-old. She decided on an electric purple with small flecks of glitter. She said it matched the marker I always used for autographs, and truth be told, she was right. I didn’t want to risk breaking her fancy little chairs, so I just dropped my ass on the floor and planted my hands on the table like she instructed.

  She had her mom’s concentration face, but unlike her mom, she was able to focus on one thing while still asking a hundred and one questions. I didn’t mind. I wanted to get to know her better as well. Since my favorite color had already been established, she hit me with the hard ones, like mayo or mustard on my burgers.

  “Are you nervous?”

  This came as she passed out color sheets. When she turned her back to grab a bucket of crayons, I quickly traded pictures with the giant panda to my right.

  “I dunno. I mean, I was quite the colorer in my day.”

  She dropped the bucket in the middle of the table and dug right in.

  “No, silly. Are you nervous that all the teams still don’t think you’re a grown-up?’

  Wow. So kids really do say the darndest things.

  “Who’s hungry?

  Presley. Finally.

  She walked in, tray in hand, and placed it alongside the crayons. Paisley and I didn’t hesitate. Pres laughed when we both reached for the sugar snap peas at the same time.

  “Ladies first,” I insisted, and with an upward glance towards Presely, I could tell she too was feeling a bit anxious. The only one completely at ease was the four-year-old with a big personality.

  “You like my mommy.”

  I thought to exhale a bit once Pres saved me from the first question. I should have known better. Pres cleared her throat in an effort to save me...again. It wasn’t a question. Instead, a simple statement that came with as much ease as if she’d been talking about the weather. Or in her case, lunch, cause she moved right on to the next subject at hand, which happened to be grilled cheese.

  I hung back so that she and her mom could do their thing but soon decided I couldn’t just stand back and watch such a monstrosity take place.

  “May I?”

  Presley held her arms up in defeat and stepped aside.

  “Brace yourself, kid.”

  Paisley responded by rolling her sleeves up a little higher, and yeah, it was on.

  “You see, the trick is to butter both sides of the bread…”

  The three of us took our plates out back to their picnic table. Presley and I sat across from her, taking in the pure bliss spread across her face when she took her first bite. Extra butter, double the cheese. I had her repeat it back to me to make sure she’d remember for next time.

  “How’d you learn to make these so yummy?”she mumbled around the last of her sandwich.

  Presley tensed alongside me and even went as far as to squeeze my leg underneath the picnic table. The subject of Mama, for the most part, had been off-limits since her death. Presley knew, of course, but it wasn’t something I talked about in general, let alone to new people.

  “My mama.”

  Paisley smiled even wider, though I wasn’t sure how it was even possible. “Can she teach my mama to cook like that?”

  “Hey!” Presley piped in, and we all shared a laugh.

  It was short-lived, though.

  “She...uh. Well, she passed away back when I was a teenager. Right before I met your mom.”

  Big tears welled up in those ice-blue eyes, and I quickly regretted having shared too much. I looked to Presley for guidance, but before she could utter a word, two tiny arms wrapped tight around my neck, even before she made it fully onto the bench beside me. I’d been taking hits on the football field for years, bone-crushing hits, yet none of them prepared me for that particular force of impact.

  “I’m sorry about your mama.”

  And just like that, she scurried back to her side of the table. After a long gulp of rootbeer float, she was left with a vanilla mustache.

  “I’m glad I have my mama.”

  “I’m glad you have your mama, too.”

  “And my daddy.”

  “And your daddy, t
oo.”

  And I meant it.

  Presley

  I busied myself in the kitchen to allow Paisley and Greyson some one on one time. Okay, fine, that was a big ass, bald-faced lie. I had more espresso than usual that morning, to the point where I could smell the number eight. I couldn’t allow myself to see a future with Greyson in it until I got a good look at him and my daughter in the present.

  Her voice carried through the house just like it had since the day we brought her home. She was getting so big. Greyson had a booming voice of his own, and I spent the next few minutes rinsing and chopping with a huge grin on my face. Lunch had indeed turned into a bit of a spa date. I was surprised he let her go as far as to paint his nails, and yet...not.

  The veggies were a hit, but before I knew it, I’d been cast aside in my own kitchen so that Greyson could show her the “proper” way to make a grilled cheese sandwich. The sight warmed my heart, but with our future still so uncertain, I had to be careful not to ultimately hurt hers. She’d already propped him up on a pedestal of sorts as her favorite athlete. We hadn’t yet talked about the possibility of him being around a lot more. Not in-depth, at least. Baby steps.

  We made our way to the backyard to finish off our lunch. Paisley seemed happy and her usual inquisitive self while Greyson looked ready to bolt. At the same time, he didn’t shy away from any questions she sent his way. Not even the ones about his mother. She’d always been a sweet child, with the purest soul in the entire world, and would take on the emotions of others.

  Her little heart broke over Greyson having lost his mother. Paisley was beautiful, intelligent, and kind, but it was her ability to wear her heart on her sleeve that made me most proud, yet envious all at the same time. A part of me dreaded her growing up too fast, but I also couldn’t wait to witness the woman she would become. Paisley would always be my greatest accomplishment.

  We said our awkward good-byes and went on about our day. Kissing him in front of her, even a peck on the cheek, wasn’t something I was ready to do. I chalked it up to me protecting her. Maybe I was protecting myself. Possibly both.