by Liz Lincoln
“How big are we talking? You said it’s like the first…” The blush returned to his ears and he rubbed his chest, scratching the Dragons logo on his T-shirt. He glanced at the box, shot a glance in the direction of his groin, then looked away quickly and back to Carrie. “They’re not that big, are they?”
It was her turn to blush, imaging what he was referencing as “that big.” He was a huge man, probably everywhere.
Once again, she couldn’t draw a full breath as she held up two fingers side by side. No, this wasn’t awkward at all. She was not thinking about what this Thor look-alike could do with two fingers.
The heat in her cheeks rapidly spread throughout her body “About like this. I think she might want something a little friendlier, don’t you?” Why had she offered to do this? She was discussing tampons and a child’s menstruation with the hottest guy she’d ever met, because of course that’s what she’d discuss.
She didn’t even know his name.
“I’m Carrie, by the way.” She held out her hand, partly to be polite, but also because she really wanted to touch him again. She’d never been this attracted to a man she’d just met. Then again, she never met men who were both stunningly gorgeous and adorably human.
His giant hand engulfed hers and his tanned skin made her fair skin look almost white in contrast. “Seth.” He squeezed her hand, firmly but not hard enough to crush it, the way some men did to exert their dominance. His palm was rough, and she noticed he had athletic tape around one of his knuckles.
She glanced up at him and found him watching her. There was that spark again. The zap. Oh man. She wanted to climb his huge body until she could kiss him.
Wow, OK. Time to derail that thought train. She forced herself to turn back to the shelves. “Maybe let’s try something that goes on the outside for now.” Why couldn’t she shut up? He didn’t want a play-by-play, and she sounded like one of those lame sports announcers.
She scanned the boxes until she found regular-absorbency pads, the same brand she preferred. The girl likely wouldn’t need the super-thick ones yet.
Seth took the box from her and studied it carefully, turning it over to read the sides and the back. “I don’t think Mads will want to wear a diaper thing.”
“Trust me, she’ll prefer it to trying to put in a tampon.”
He cringed when she said put in. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have sisters, do you?” He was almost comically clueless.
“Two younger brothers.”
“Then you’ll have to trust me, as someone who’s been doing this for fifteen years.”
He nodded, but his attention was still focused on the box. “If I give her this box, she’ll know what to do? She and her friends covered this?”
“There are instructions in there.”
He nodded again. “OK. We can do this.”
“I’d suggest you don’t help her with it.”
“Right.” He looked up, his eyes powerfully blue as they met hers. Oh boy. There was that funny stomach thing again, along with a burst of awareness in her chest.
He stared back, as much as she did. He shifted his weight, moving closer to her. She couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Of course her teeth decided it was a perfect time for a nibble on her lower lip.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and leaned away.
What the hell was that? They had a moment in the middle of tampons and pads? A moment that left her heart racing and her cheeks hot and her whole body antsy.
“So. That should do it.” Taking a step back, she tossed her hand toward the pads. “Do you have someone you can ask if she has questions? Is her mom around?” Probably a loaded question, and way too personal. But she felt a certain kinship to this girl she’d never met.
His face tightened. “No, her mom is most definitely not around.”
Carrie sighed and gathered her courage. This was about the girl and not ulterior motives. “I’ll give you my number. You can call if you have a question.”
He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it, then handed it over. It was the same phone she had, so she easily found his contacts.
As she typed, he stepped closer, close enough she could feel his warmth against her arm. It was like his energy came into her space. Which was totally weird but still how it felt. She liked the feeling.
It was tempting to add more of her information so he would stay that close, but she had no reason to, so she handed the phone back to him.
He took it, glanced at it, then slid it into his back pocket. “Thanks.” She thought he was giving her a faint smile, but his facial hair made it hard to tell.
“No problem.” She started back down the aisle with her cart. She didn’t want to separate from him, but they could hardly continue chatting in the feminine hygiene aisle. Plus, he had pads to deliver. “You bought my groceries. It’s the least I can do.” Their conversational detour had made her momentarily forget her stunned gratitude at his gesture. Now it came flooding back, the reminder good people existed, the reminder you could make someone’s day by doing something kind, the reminder she needed to pay it forward. Did helping him count as paying it forward?
Maybe, but it would never be a bad thing to do more.
They reached the checkout. It was time to part ways, since she didn’t have anything to buy and he did. He gathered his bananas and the box of tampons he’d set in the baby seat of her cart.
Tucking his three items under one arm, he held out his other hand. She gladly took it. After the initial jolt, warmth spread through her. She looked up at him. She wasn’t tiny, standing five foot seven, but he made her feel small. He had to be at least six-four.
Did he feel the attraction too? Or was he just a supremely nice guy with cash to spare? She opened her mouth, the words Would you like to get a drink sometime? on the tip of her tongue. But nerves held her back.
“Thank you, Carrie. I really appreciate it, and I know Mads will too.” He gave a gentle squeeze, and it electrified her arm. His wide smile electrified the rest of her.
“My pleasure.” She smiled back, her mind screaming for her to ask him out. But she couldn’t force the words past her throat.
With a smile and a nod, Seth took his hand back. She could have imagined that he trailed his fingers over her palm. It might not have been deliberate. “Have a good night.” He turned away to get in line.
Disappointment settled on Carrie’s chest as she pushed her cart out of the store. She should have asked him out. He was kind, he was hot enough to melt her brain, and he was clearly a responsible guy, dedicated to his daughter.
At least he had her number. Maybe he’d call.
*
—
Seth paced the breakfast nook, restless as he waited for his daughter to finish with her…girl things. As he did when forced to think about Mads’ mother, he mentally cursed Jessalyn. He completely understood not wanting the responsibility of a child at nineteen; he sure as hell hadn’t. But she’d made the choice to have their baby. And then bailed before Mads’ first birthday.
But they did well together, he and his girl. Most of the time he was glad they didn’t have to deal with Jessa’s drama. On the rare occasion she contacted him, Jessa wanted money; rarely did she inquire about their daughter.
But tonight, having a woman around would have been really damn helpful.
His mind jumped back to the woman at the grocery store. Carrie. His body tightened at the memory of her long red hair and sweet blue eyes. Her hand had felt small but strong in his. And her smile. She’d burned him from the inside out when she smiled.
He could admit buying her groceries was at least 10 percent thinking with his dick. Not that he thought she owed him if he did. He’d wanted to do something nice for the most beautiful woman he’d seen since moving to Milwaukee three months ago.
Then she’d turned around and saved his ass.
He took his
phone out of his pocket and pulled up her contact information. He could call her. Ask her out for a drink. Spend some time getting to know her, listening to her talk in that smooth, slightly husky voice. She’d mentioned being a teacher, and he bet all her male students had crushes on her.
But maybe he’d imagined the attraction in her eyes. He was definitely interested in her, and her smiles and body language had seemed to say she returned the interest. But who knew?
Jesus, the scene in Houston had spoiled him. Being a star linebacker meant he had women throwing themselves at him. He got daily marriage proposals on social media. For his first few years in the NFL, he’d taken advantage of his celebrity status. His parents watched Mads for the most part, and he partied like a rock star.
Or a football star.
But that lifestyle got old fast. Somewhere during his third season, he realized he wanted better for himself, and for his daughter. So he devoted himself to the two things he loved most: football and Mads.
He still had no problem getting dates when he wanted. He had relationships. But he rarely had to do much pursuing. Women made it known they were interested.
This insecure infatuation was something he hadn’t felt since high school, when he wasn’t even a starter on the football team. He hadn’t gotten a scholarship and had to go as a walk-on at the University of Texas, less than ten miles from where he’d grown up. There he’d quickly become Somebody and had been ever since.
But hell, he hadn’t gotten where he was in life by waiting for things to happen. If he wanted something, he went after it.
His thumb hovered over the call button, and he was about to tap it when Mads walked in.
His gut sank, but he locked his phone and shoved it in his back pocket. “Hey. Everything go…OK?”
She stared at her feet, at her hands, at the floor, at the counter. Anywhere but at him. “Yeah,” she mumbled.
Shit. This sucked.
He cleared his throat. How did he cut through the awkwardness and get back to the easy, comfortable relationship they’d always had?
They were always honest with each other, so maybe that’s what they needed here. “Look, Mads. I know this situation sucks. I’m sorry. Some things are gonna be awkward. If it helps, this is really weird for me too.”
She wandered into the adjoining living room and flopped onto the couch. “It’s really OK, Dad. I FaceTimed Sophie.”
Seth followed her into the living room area of their open kitchen-living-dining room and sat in the armchair facing her. “Good. I’m glad you have her to talk to. You’ll make friends here in no time.”
His trade to the Dragons had been rough on Mads. She’d asked to stay in Houston and live with his parents, but he couldn’t put that burden on them. And dammit, he was her father.
As a compromise, he’d let her spend a final summer in Texas with her grandparents and friends. So while he’d moved in June, as soon as the trade was a done deal, Mads had only come a week ago. He was damn glad to have her.
“Yeah, I guess.” Her voice lacked conviction.
Of all the days to get her first period, the night before her first day at a new school had to suck the most.
“I’ve gotta be at practice until late tomorrow. Sarah is going to pick you up.” They’d been over this already, but he didn’t know what else to say to her. In Houston, his parents had taken care of her when he was out of town or had late practice. Since it hadn’t occurred to him until two weeks ago that he needed someone to do that here, he hadn’t yet found someone willing to be a twelve-year-old’s nanny.
Sarah, the wife of his friend and now teammate Lemalu Feu’u, was generously helping until he hired someone. He’d known Lem since they played together at the University of Texas, and he’d known Sarah since she started dating Lem their junior year. He trusted them almost as much as he did his parents.
“I know.” Mads didn’t roll her eyes, but it was implied in her tone. She fussed with a strand of her light brown hair, inspecting the end for who-knew-what.
He should be going over his playbook. He’d spent the summer not only in the grueling workouts of training camp but also learning a whole new system. Now it was week one of the regular season and he had to know his shit.
Sometimes, though, Mads was more important. “Remember, it’s a strange week. We play the Thursday night game, so I leave on Wednesday.” He hated playing on Thursdays. Routine was everything. Ritual. Playing any day except Sunday screwed him up. The only thing that made it not a complete clusterfuck was that all the players on both teams were equally thrown off their routine.
She stood up, not looking at him. “I know. You’ve only reminded me, like, a million times.” She started out of the room. “I’m going to bed.”
“This early?” It was still an hour before his mandated lights-out.
“I got some new comics I want to read. ‘Night, Dad.”
“I love you, Madison.”
“Umm, you too.”
Seth stared after her long after she disappeared. No “I love you too”? When he left Texas at the beginning of the summer, she’d been the sweet, devoted girl she’d always been.
Why the hell had his parents sent him this moody, distant impostor?
*
—
Carrie pulled into the visitor’s spot in her brother’s parking garage, tugged her laundry bag out of the trunk of her car, and lugged it to the elevator. Because she was on a tight budget, Jason let her come over every week to use his washer and dryer so she didn’t have to pay for the Laundromat.
She rode the elevator to his fifth-floor loft and let herself in. As she shut the door behind her, her phone pinged to signal a new text message.
Seth?
Her pulse stuttered at the idea the sexy single dad might be contacting her so soon. Though it was likely about his daughter, not asking her out.
“Hey, Jace!” she called as she headed for his tiny laundry room. He was undoubtedly using his laptop on the couch and watching ESPN, his unofficial home office setup. He was a talent scout for the Milwaukee Dragons, the local NFL team. Watching sports news was an actual job requirement.
After starting her first load, Carrie leaned back against the dryer to check her message. On the off chance Seth had sent a flirty text, she didn’t want to read it in front of her big brother.
But the message was from her landlord.
Evan: Letting you know I sold the house, closing 9/28. New owner won’t be renting, so you need to be out by 9/27. Sorry!
Carrie read the text three more times before the words started to sink in. Evan, who lived in the upstairs apartment while she occupied the downstairs, told her he had put the house on the market. But he’d sworn he was looking for someone who would let her stay.
Since she’d lived there for five years, and after two they’d given up on her formally signing a lease, she had no legal standing to protest. Which was her own damn fault for trusting Evan not to screw her over.
And the jerk hadn’t even had the balls to come down and tell her when she’d been home putting away her groceries and grabbing her dirty clothes. His car had been in the driveway, so he’d been home.
“Fuck.” She had no income, dwindling savings, and less than four weeks to find a new place to live.
Tears scratched at the back of her eyes as she shoved her phone back into her purse and headed for the living room.
“Hey,” Jason mumbled distractedly as she flopped into the armchair that matched his black leather sofa. As she’d guessed, he was on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, pen between his teeth, notebook on the cushion next to him, and a preseason football game on the TV.
Carrie didn’t bother checking who was playing. Despite her older brother being the star of their high school team, a starter at the University of Texas, and now a scout for the Dragons, she’d never cared about football. She knew who most of the best Milwaukee players were, and the handful of celebrity players from other teams—
everyone knew Tom Brady and Aaron Rodgers—but most players could walk by her on the street and she wouldn’t have a clue. So her interest in a preseason game was negative.
And right now she really needed to talk to her big brother. “Before we start Walking Dead, can we talk?”
Jason nodded distractedly. He took the pen out of his mouth to jot down something. “I’m almost done. There’s curry in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks.” She was famished, so she didn’t bother asking what kind. She wasn’t picky. And it had been so late when she finally got home with her groceries, she’d skipped making something, despite it being the reason she’d gone in the first place. Big brother to the rescue again.
She served herself a plate of Thai red chicken curry and rice, got a beer from the refrigerator, and resumed her seat. She didn’t let herself think about her housing predicament, because she’d work herself into a circle of panic. Whereas if she talked it out with Jason, she’d force herself to stay calm and rational.
She took a long drink of her Sprecher Black Bavarian, her favorite local brew, which Jason kept on hand. When she set the bottle on the side table, she looked up to find him watching her.
“What’s up?”
The drone of the announcers’ voices had disappeared. She glanced at the TV to see the game paused, a player hanging in midair, the football inches from his outstretched hands.
If he’d paused an in-progress game, Jason must have realized how upset she was. And here she thought she’d hidden it well.
He set his laptop on the table in front of him and leaned back into the cushions. “It’s Saturday’s game. Not live.”
Of course. She should have known better.
“You having a rough night since school starts tomorrow?”
“No. I thought I would, but no.” Meeting Seth had held off some of the melancholy she surely would have otherwise felt. She’d avoided her best friend Amy’s texts all weekend, not wanting to hear about her back-to-school preparations and complaints. Teaching wasn’t Carrie’s dream job, but she enjoyed it more than most people seemed to enjoy their jobs. And she really liked having a paycheck.