“Thank you, Nick.”
Glancing quickly over at Jason and then back to her, Nick gave her a curt nod and walked out of Paddy’s. As soon as the door closed, her knees sagged. She braced her forearms on the bar and rested her head on top of them as she took deep breaths to settle her nerves. A smattering of applause broke out in the room, and she lifted her head to find her customers—her fellow friends and neighbors—clapping their approval.
Trish blushed and straightened, using a menu to fan herself from the heat of the emotional roller coaster she’d just ridden.
Mrs. Madsen spoke up. “Well, my dear, what are you waiting for? One proposal down, one to go, wouldn’t you say?”
Had this been New York, Trish would’ve wondered if the woman was psychic or preternaturally intuitive. But this was Fort Atkinson, where everyone knew everyone and it was a wonderful thing. Mrs. Madsen wasn’t psychic. She was in-the-know and wanted their happiness. And also maybe a little more juice to add to the story she’d get to tell later as being an eye-witness to an incredible event. Such was the way of life in her small hometown, and she knew she’d never want it any other way.
Trish faced the man still behind the bar with her. “Jason?”
“I’ve got you covered and I’ll call Erin to give her a heads up.”
“Shit,” she said, “I’ll have to call Rhi for a ride.”
“Take mine,” Jason said, placing keys her in hand. “Now, go, get the hell out of here.”
“Thank you,” she rushed out before smacking a big kiss on his cheek. Then she grabbed her purse from under the bar and ran out the door to the cheers of her customers.
As she got into Jason’s car she tried to suppress her nerves throwing a fucking rave in her stomach. If she couldn’t get them to settle down, she’d be paying for Jason’s car to be cleaned and detailed. But it would all be worth it if things went her way. If Tony could forgive her and give her another chance to make things right.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tony walked up and down the sidelines of the soccer field, yelling out encouragement and instructions to his team. The former was always well received with toothless smiles, enthusiastic waves, or a quick thumbs up. The latter was an exercise in futility since the kids always followed the ball no matter what position they played. But as far as futile exercises went, it was one he gladly repeated week after week, year after year.
This was the last game of the tournament, and miraculously, the Shark Bytes were tied for first with the Mighty Minnows. Whichever team won this game took first place for the season. Not that the kids cared all that much. They just loved playing and hearing their families cheering for them. One of the reasons he loved coaching kids at this age was because he envied their simplistic outlook on life. As long as something was fun, it was worth doing. If they loved someone, they showed it without ulterior motives.
If only it were that simple for adults. Then maybe the last two weeks would have been spent showing Trish how much he loved her instead of trying to bury that love so deep that it suffocated and stopped hurting so goddamn much. But, if anything, he hurt more today than he did yesterday and the day before that.
“Scottie,” he yelled through cupped hands. “You can pick flowers for Jessica after the game! Watch the ball, little man!”
Scottie looked at the fistful of yellow weeds in his hand and then back to Tony. His face scrunched up into newfound determination, tossed the stuff over his shoulder, and hunkered down into position.
And in another five minutes, Tony would find the boy picking weeds all over again. Because girls made guys go crazy until they couldn’t focus on anything but how to make their fairer sex happy, whether at the age of five or fifty-five. Dandelions probably wouldn’t have helped, but Tony wondered if he could have done or said anything differently that would’ve made Trish reconsider rejecting him and his love.
“Tony, I need to talk to you.”
Every muscle in his body snapped tight at the sound of Trish’s voice and her breaths sawing in and out like she’d just ran a marathon. Without turning to look at her, he yelled out to tell Austin to stop playing with a caterpillar and run down the field with the rest of the kids. He didn’t drop his fuzzy new pet, but ran toward his teammates and even managed to kick the ball with it still on his hand. Tony counted that as a victory.
“I’m a little busy right now, Trish,” he said. “If you still want to talk later, give me a call.”
“I’ve tried calling several dozen times. You don’t answer them.”
He was torn. Just having her here with him made him feel the most complete he had in weeks, and he wanted to kiss Trish senseless. On the other hand, she’d ran the moment he leveled with her about the depth of his feelings. His heart couldn’t survive being discarded again. He settled on shrugging and moving down the field to follow the action. He felt her keeping pace with him and caught himself slowing so she didn’t have to run alongside him.
“So this time I’ll answer.” Maybe, he amended silently. He wanted it all with her. If she offered him anything less, it would only make it that much harder to heal. Which is why he’d adopted the all-or-nothing mentality for the first time ever when it came to Trish. But it was necessary if he wanted to move the fuck on with his life.
“I don’t blame you, but I also don’t believe you, and I really need to talk to you.”
“You’ll have to wait until after the game.” Tony raked his hands through his hair in frustration. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll want to talk then either. It’s been a long damn day and I won’t have it in me.” Tony planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping he portrayed some kind of fierce statue that lacked emotion. Like a big ugly gargoyle. He bet gargoyles didn’t have women problems. “Tomorrow would be better.”
“How can I believe you’ll want to talk to me tomorrow when you can’t even look at me today?”
Tony ground his back molars together making his jaw muscles tic in irritation. Slowly, he turned only his head and peered down at her standing next to him. How was it possible she was even more beautiful than he remembered her? Because life’s a cruel bitch with a sick sense of humor.
He arched an eyebrow. “Satisfied?”
She shook her head, but he didn’t think it was in answer to his question. It seemed like a frustrated shake, like she couldn’t figure out what to do next. “Just promise me that we’ll talk after the game and I’ll go wait on the bleachers.”
Pools of moisture appeared to be collecting in her dark chocolate eyes, but it didn’t make sense. She was the one who turned him down, who broke things off between them. There’d be no reason for her to be upset, much less cry.
Unless she misses the sex and wants things to go back to the way they were in the beginning. Hell, he’d been the one to give her a sexual awakening. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll go back to being “broken” if she’s with anyone else. Then a dark thought seeped in, tainting his perfect memories of her and made him murderous. Maybe she’d already tried being with someone else and he hadn’t been able to make her come like he did. Christ.
“Can’t make that promise, Trish,” he gritted out. “I think it’s best you go home.”
“Okay, but remember, you’re not leaving me a choice.”
Whatever. The last time he’d given her a choice, she given the wrong—
“Trish, what the hell are you doing?” He watched in shock as she stalked into the middle of the field where the kids amassed around the ball. “Get off the field, T, I’m serious!”
Trish Howell continued her journey, head held high, shoulders thrown back, and hands fisted at her sides. He heard everything go to hell around him as his eyes stayed glued to her retreating back. Parents started talking and speculating amongst themselves in the bleachers. The kids from his team caught on to what was happening and ran to her like she was handing out giant pixie sticks. A ref’s whistle blew to stop the game—not that he had any players left actively participating—a
nd raised his hands in question to Tony.
Yeah, like Tony had any clue as to how to deal with the current clusterfuck his championship game had turned into. Erin, who’d been watching her niece play, appeared at his side.
“What’s Trish doing on the field?”
He shook his head. “No fucking idea.”
“She’s supposed to be at Paddy’s. Jason called me and told me he’s covering for her, but he didn’t say why.”
He’d noticed she wore her dark green uniform t-shirt with skinny jeans and a pair of worn cowboy boots that had probably never stepped foot in a pasture, but he’d assumed she was ready to work later in the day. It never occurred to him that she’d leave in the middle of her shift. What the hell was going on?
“Stay here, will you?” he asked Erin. “I’m going to send the kids back to the sidelines while I deal with her.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He stepped over the line of white-painted grass, but Erin stopped him from going any farther with a gentle hand on his arm. “Go easy on her. I know you’re hurting, Tony, but so is she. Remember that.”
A thin layer of his anger slipped away at her reminder. Tony hadn’t seen Trish since she turned him down, but Erin had. This was her way of letting him know that Trish hadn’t walked away from them completely unscathed. He gave his friend a sharp nod and then followed the same path Trish had blazed a minute before.
After sending both teams back to the sidelines, Tony looked over at the other coach and the referee who were both looking to him for some sort of idea as to what the plan was. Trish stood center field, her solemn gaze on him. He almost rolled his eyes, but instead made his hands into a “T” to signal for a break. The ref blew the whistle again and yelled, “Time out,” though Tony didn’t know whose benefit it was for. Everyone in a three block radius already seemed to have taken a time out so they could watch the drama unfold. Perfect.
He turned his attention to the woman causing the unholy uproar. A light breeze picked up strands of her long hair and carried them to the side. His fingers itched to reach up and tuck them back where they belonged for the sole excuse to feel the silkiness on his skin.
“What’s all this about, Trish? What’s so important it can’t wait?”
“You,” she said softly. “You’re what’s so important, Tony. And I’ve wasted two whole weeks letting you think otherwise. Letting myself think otherwise. But the truth is that of all the people in my life, it’s you who means the most to me.”
“That’s great, Trish,” he said, tinged in sarcasm. “Knowing I’m the most important person in your life is going to help me sleep a lot better at night. Now let’s go.” He reached for her arm, but she took a step back.
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” Her brows drew together and she used both hands to push her hair back and pull it over one shoulder. “I’m trying to tell you that I love you, Tony. As in, I am in love with you. Body, heart, and soul.”
Tony froze. Not that he’d been moving. He wasn’t going to force his presence on Trish a moment more, even to throw her over his shoulder and remove her from the field. But it still felt like whatever else he didn’t have control over—the hairs on his arms, the blood in his veins, the air in his lungs, the beat of his heart—froze in time.
Then her words from the other week came back to him, and the burning embers of the fire that razed his heart to the ground caught fire again and took him from freezing to boiling in seconds.
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m finding this declaration a little hard to believe. Not two weeks ago you told me that falling in love and knowing you’re meant to spend a lifetime with someone is impossible in only a few short months.”
“I was wrong,” she said simply, her voice cracking with emotion. “Time and experience has nothing to do with it. I realize that now. It’s how the person makes you feel. About yourself, about life, all of it. You make me feel like the most beautiful and precious woman in the world, like I can do anything I set my mind on. All without even trying because it’s simply who you are.”
Tears spilled over her cheeks, but she dashed them away with her fingers, clearly not wanting to appear weak in such a vulnerable state. Forever his strong girl, his Trish.
“Sometimes,” she whispered, “all it takes is a glance from you, and my heart swells with so much love that I can hardly draw my next breath. But I kept telling myself that it had to be lust or infatuation, because I couldn’t handle knowing that what we have was more real, more genuine, than anything before. ”
He dug his fingers into his palms to keep himself from reaching out to her. His body and heart and mind were in a goddamn Mexican standoff, all pointing weapons at the other two while shouting their demands on how to handle the situation.
Body: take her, mark her, and fuck her until she knows who she belongs to, now and forever. Heart: forgive her, hold her, and make love to her until she feels secure in their love. Mind: start over, go slow, and see how things progress from there.
No doubt about it, Tony wanted to listen to his body and heart a hell of a lot more than his mind. But following each of them, first his body and then his heart, is what got him into the mess in the first place. The logical solution was to try the third option and hope like hell it had better results than the other two.
“Trish,” he began, swallowing hard, “you already know how much I love you. For you to finally tell me you feel the same makes me happier than I have words to explain. And part of me wants to pull you into my arms and forget the last two weeks ever happened. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
More tears overflowed from her eyes, but she didn’t bother to wipe away their evidence this time. Her teeth captured her trembling lower lip and bore down until pink flesh blanched to white, though. The next stage of her attempts to not break down, and another stake driven through his chest.
He cleared his voice when it didn’t immediately work. “I’m not saying that we’re over, either. We can start over and take things slow. Let them progress naturally instead of starting in the middle only to find ourselves at the end without any of the beginning stuff. I don’t want to take the chance of picking up where we left off because you’re afraid of losing me now, and then realizing weeks or months later that you’re not sure about us. Do you understand?”
Trish gave him a sad smile. “Yes, I understand.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Absolutely. I get it.”
“Good. We can talk more about everything later, including how to make things work around you living two hours away in Chicago. But for now, let’s give the gossip mill a rest and see who wins the game, okay?”
The knots in Troy’s stomach loosened somewhat when she offered him a real smile. It was a start, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her yet, so he turned and started making his way off the field. He kept his sights on the kids and their puzzled expressions, too much of a pussy to make eye contact with the adults looking on in eerie silence.
“Ask me again,” her strong voice called to him from behind, stopping him in his tracks.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wishing he remembered how that Serenity Prayer went. Maybe it only mattered that he knew he needed to ask for strength and patience, who the hell knew. Tony didn’t know how long he stood there, but he heard her come up on his left, and from the sound of her voice, she faced him.
“Please,” she said. “Ask me again.”
Sighing, he opened his eyes and turned toward her. “Trish, I don’t know what you’re—” She tucked her fingers into one of her front pockets and pulled out his grandmother’s ring. “How did you get that?”
“I stopped at your place on the way here to get it, because while I understand your point about us skipping over all the beginning stuff and it being a good idea to start fresh and try again, I don’t agree with it.”
“You don’t—” Tony let out a frustrated chuckle as he rubbed his hands vigorously over his face a
few times and then placed them on his hips to study her. In his peripheral vision, he saw hundreds of eyes on them, and now that they were a mere dozen feet from the edge of the field, everything they said could also be heard. Fuck it. If she didn’t care about the spectacle they were making, then neither did he. “You don’t agree with it? Mind telling me why?”
Trish took a single step forward. “We may not have started our relationship in the most traditional way, but that doesn’t mean we skipped anything. The beginning is when you learn things about each other, what they like and dislike. Whether you’re companionable and can survive the times when they’re at their worst and still care for them.
“Tony, we’ve been doing that since the third grade. The first thing you learned about me was to never steal my softball glove. And I learned that if I don’t want you to do something again, all I have to do is kick you in the shin.”
She bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smirk, but it didn’t much good. Their audience snickered with a few of the younger members laughing at their coach for trying such a thing. But Tony couldn’t keep a partial grin from creeping onto his face, either, so he supposed he’d forgive the little rascals.
“For the record, I wouldn’t recommend that method of persuasion at this age,” he said with a single brow cocked in challenge.
“Duly noted,” she quipped. Then after a beat, she sobered and so did the conversation. “I was wrong two weeks ago, Tony, and I’ll regret the things I said to you that day for the rest of my life. Your proposal was perfect, everything had been perfect, and I ruined all of it.” She swallowed thickly and her brown eyes watered again. “But the worst part of it all...is thinking that I may have ruined any chance of there being an ‘us’ in the process.”
Before he could answer or sweep her up into his arms to reassure her that he could never give up hope for them, she rocked down to her knees in front of him. The murmurs from the peanut gallery swelled to above a whisper, but he didn’t pay any attention. He was too stunned that the woman he loved and would do anything for was on her knees holding up his grandmother’s wedding ring in both hands.
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