Now John Luke was standing aside to watch and Gabe was demonstrating—except he dropped the ball. Twice. Catch. Catch. Drop. Odd. It was when Neyland studied his tight facial expression that she discovered he closed his eyes every time the ball came toward him—so not so odd. How could he expect to catch a ball he couldn’t see?
Beside her Vanessa interrupted Neyland’s thoughts. “Look at them.”
“Who?” Neyland asked because Gabe was all she could see, with his troubled look and closed eyes.
Vanessa gestured to the sidelines where a dozen girls were sitting scattered on the grass.
“I think there’s something very primal about females watching males compete at a sport,” Vanessa said. “It’s the closest we come to watching a warrior go forth to conquer. Those girls don’t know it, but that’s why they watch. It would be interesting to know how many lost virginities have come in the wake of a high school victory.”
“Mother!” Neyland did not want to hear this. But it least it took her mind off Gabe.
“You’re a grown woman, Neyland. Can we not speak about such things?”
“Even so, I don’t want to talk about the loss of your virginity.” Or mine. Or the ones an adolescent Gabe might have taken.
“And I have no intention of telling you about it—though I will tell you it did not happen after a football game, high school or otherwise.”
“That’s a comfort.” Gabe had backed off now, and John Luke was receiving. Gabe’s expression had relaxed, though not by much.
“I’ll never forget that first time I saw your father play. It was his senior year. We’d met the previous summer at the dance Miss Amelia had at the end of charm school. That was when Laura met James, too. Our parents wouldn’t let us drive to Beauford from Nashville for the game, but James didn’t play football, so he came and got us. I didn’t miss a single game that season—even the away ones. Eventually, Laura and I were allowed to drive ourselves.”
“You’ve never told me any of this.”
“Of course not. Do you think I wanted you to know I traipsed all over Tennessee watching your daddy play ball when I was seventeen years old? I was afraid you’d want to do something similar—though I knew it wouldn’t be to watch some boy play ball.”
“No. I never did learn to love football like you do.”
“You never did learn to love it at all. But it was that fall I fell in love with football.”
“Was that when you fell in love with Daddy, too?”
“No. That was already a done deal.”
“Were you disappointed that his NFL career didn’t work out?” It had never occurred to Neyland to wonder that before.
Vanessa trained her eyes on her husband as he walked among his team, clapping, praising, criticizing, building up, tearing down. Neyland knew that well. She let her eyes wander back to Gabe. He was talking to Lance and John Luke now.
“Disappointed? I was,” Vanessa said. “But not for the reasons you might think. He wanted to play pro ball and I wanted it for him. And I was sorry I wouldn’t get to see him play anymore. I loved his college playing days, and I thought there would be more of that. It was never about the money.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that,” Neyland said. “If it had been that, you wouldn’t have married him.”
“Oh, honey.” Vanessa voice dropped to a sweet place. “That was just never not going to happen. Not after he led me to the dance floor at Beauford Bend. He danced like only an athlete can. I was a goner. It was that easy. For both of us, and it never changed.”
Destined. Exactly like Noel and Nickolai. Neyland wondered if there was any destiny out there for her, wondered if Gabe was that kind of dancer, wondered if she’d ever know.
“But don’t think we’ve had a disappointing life, Neyland. Never think it. He takes joy in coaching and I take joy in his pleasure. And who knows? If we’d had a different kind of life, we might have had a different set of children. And nothing would ever be worth you and Todd.” Vanessa’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told you. I didn’t want to name you after a football stadium.”
Neyland burst out laughing. “Then why did you let him do it?”
“Have you ever tried to tell him no?”
Neyland let her eyes settle on Gabe again, so beautiful with the late afternoon sunshine bouncing off his fair hair.
“I have,” Neyland said. “But it didn’t work out. It’s hard to say no to a man who doesn’t understand the word.”
• • •
“That was better,” Gabe said to Lance and John Luke. Better for them. Not so good for him. “I want to ask you something. Do y’all hang out?” Gabe didn’t get the sense the boys disliked each other. They just had never spent any time together.
The boys looked at each other.
“What do you mean?” Lance asked.
“Come on!” Gabe said. “You’re QB-One. You’re supposed to be the brains of this operation. Don’t tell me you don’t know what hang out means.”
John Luke shrugged. “We get some food after practice sometimes. With the guys.”
“Look, you need to know each other. And don’t talk to me about how y’all were in kindergarten together. Time served doesn’t count. You’ve got to learn to depend on each other. Get some game film. Watch it together, just the two of you. Watch a movie. Get a pizza. Talk. Because, you know what? It’s April. And September is coming; it’ll be here before you know it. You’re going to be seniors. And after the season starts, you’re not getting any do-overs. You’ve got to work out the kinks now.”
Coach’s shrill whistle rang out. “That’s it, men! Hydrate and hit the bus.”
Lance and John Luke looked at Gabe expectantly.
“Go on,” Gabe said. “You heard the man. And he’s the man. Not me.”
As they walked away, Lance said, “So, you want to get some get some film and watch it tonight? We can do it at my house. My mom will make us some food.”
“Okay,” John Luke said. “I’ll ask Coach about the film—as soon as he gets through talking to Mrs. Coach.”
Gabe whipped his head around. There sat Vanessa—with Neyland beside her. And Coach was headed their way. The sight of Neyland lifted his spirits, drove those dropped balls a little further into the past. His feet had a mind of their own, and they carried him toward her—though he did make himself stop and retrieve a Gatorade. A man with a blue Gatorade looked more cool and less desperate than a man without one.
It was after five. Aubrey would have made the purchase by now—unless Neyland had taken a dislike to her and refused to sell. And if she had, he was going to call off those people he had lined up to buy the other pieces next week.
“I don’t care if you do feel better,” Vanessa was saying when Gabe walked up. “You need to take these last two doses.”
Coach looked at the bottle she’d handed him. “Okay. I will. Later.”
“You’re supposed to take it on an empty stomach,” Vanessa said.
“Hi,” Gabe said quietly to Neyland and swigged his Gatorade. A bit trickled out the corner of his mouth and Neyland’s eyes landed there. “Do you want some Gatorade?”
She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip like she did when she was trying not to laugh.
“I don’t believe I do. But thank you all the same.”
“Okay. Fine.” Coach swallowed a pill and chased it with his own Gatorade. “Are you happy?”
“Yes,” Vanessa said. “And so will you be when you don’t have to go back to the doctor next week. Hello, Gabe.”
“Hello, Miss Vanessa. How are you?” He removed his cap.
“I like that you took off your cap for my wife,” Coach said. “Maybe next time you’ll do it for my daughter.”
Depend on it. My cap, my pants, my underwear. His cock stirred. Not good.
“I apologize, Neyland. Please forgive me for failing to show proper respect. It won’t happen again.”
&
nbsp; “Neyland has some news,” Vanessa said. “Tell them, honey.”
Neyland looked at her hands and then back and forth between Coach and Gabe.
“I sold a piece of jewelry—an important piece.”
Gabe tried to look surprised. “That’s great, Neyland. Which one?”
“Annabelle.”
Good. Aubrey had chosen the most expensive one. More money right away for Neyland. He and Aubrey had agreed that she would charge it and he could pay her back when he went to pick up the piece. He would get cash because the last thing he wanted was a paper trail. With that thought, some of the pleasure at what he had done dissipated. He hadn’t considered that he’d feel bad for deceiving Neyland. Though he shouldn’t. What he’d done was helpful, noble even. At least he didn’t have a hard-on anymore.
Neyland looked hopefully at her father.
“Well, sister, that’s fine. Really good news.”
Couldn’t you fake a little enthusiasm, Coach? But who was he to be judgmental? At least Coach had been honest with her.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“You aren’t going to go on a spending spree like you did last time, are you?”
Neyland let her eyes drop. “No. I learned my lesson.”
“That’s good. What are you going to do with the money?”
“Conrad … ” Vanessa said.
“No, Mama. It’s okay,” Neyland said. “First, I’m going to pay my car insurance.”
“You haven’t let your car insurance lapse, have you?” Coach said, alarmed. “I told you to come to me—”
“No, Daddy. I have not. But I want to pay it for the rest of the year so I don’t have to worry about it.”
Gabe’s heart squeezed. He had never had to worry about car insurance. Jackson had taken care of that until Gabe had gone to the NFL. And he hated that Neyland had to worry about such things. But she wouldn’t for a while—so what he’d done was a good thing.
“That’s good planning, Neyland. What next?”
She looked confused for a moment. “I’m going to save most of the money, though I’m going spend some on a project I’ve got planned.” She met Gabe’s eyes and smiled.
Coach frowned. So did Vanessa, and she hurried to speak as if she was trying to stop Coach from putting to voice what he was thinking.
“Darling, don’t you think it would be a good idea to see what else you sell before making another expensive piece?”
Neyland shook her head. “This is different. I’m going to try to sell a design for mass-production. I just need to make a prototype. It won’t be terribly expensive. It’s silver. No gems.”
Vanessa smiled. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“It was Gabe’s idea,” Neyland said. “He persuaded me.”
“Yeah?” Coach said. “Gabe did, did he? Isn’t Gabe helpful?”
Gabe didn’t miss the edge of sarcasm in Coach’s voice—and neither did Neyland.
Vanessa chose to ignore it. “So,” she said brightly. “Why don’t we all get a quick dinner before Conrad has to go to his meeting? Gabe, would you join us?”
“I, uh—” Maybe if he lay down and poured the rest of his blue Gatorade up his nose, he would drown, thus ending the latest episode of Awkward Hell at the Middle School Football Field.
“Not me.” Neyland rose. “I have things to do. Gabe, I left my car at my parents’. Can you drop me?”
“Neyland, no … ” Vanessa’s voice trailed off.
“It’s fine, Mother. Really. You go eat with Daddy.” She turned to Gabe. “Gabe?”
“Sure. I’ll drop you.” He might be in trouble, but at least he’d be gone.
“Neyland, wait,” Coach said.
She turned and looked at him.
“I am proud for you, baby.” He hugged her. “I know how hard you work.”
“Thank you, Daddy. I come by it honest. Nobody works harder than you do.”
“I do,” Gabe chimed in. “I work my ass off all the damn time and get not one bit of credit for it.”
And they all laughed, the tension alleviated.
“Boy,” Coach said. “Don’t cuss in front of my women.”
Except one of them is mine. Wait. Where did that come from?
“Let’s go to lunch tomorrow, Neyland,” Vanessa said. “To celebrate.”
“Okay, Mama. And I’ll be looking for that pie.”
It was hard not to put his arm around Neyland as they walked to his car.
Chapter Fourteen
In the car, Gabe was subdued—something Neyland had never seen. He asked about the sale and tried to act enthusiastic, but it was almost as if hearing about it was painful.
Neyland stopped abruptly in what she thought was a rather comical description of Pitch.
“Are you okay?”
He turned questioning eyes to her and smiled. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be? Pretty day. Got a great view of a pretty leg.” He briefly laid a hand on the place above her knee.
Maybe her family dynamic had made him uncomfortable. She could see that, though she hardly noticed anymore. Or maybe he was tired of this fling and he didn’t know how to say so. After all, he hadn’t let his hand linger on her leg. Come to think of it, today was the first day he hadn’t called to make plans for tonight.
Well, she’d make it easy for him.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said when he parked behind her car in front of her parents’ house. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. I need a shower. What do you want to eat? I’m starving.”
“Tonight?”
“Huh?” He wrinkled his brow. “I can’t wait ’til morning to eat.” He licked his lips. “A man has to keep up his strength for the likes of you.”
So not tired of her yet. Maybe he was just tired period.
“I owe you a meal. You’ve been feeding me all week,” Neyland said. “I’ll stop by Piggly Wiggly and get something to cook.”
“You don’t owe me anything. Why would you think that?” His face went stormy and his tone was sharp.
“Gabe, simmer down. It’s an expression. I’d just like to cook something for us in my new kitchen. But if you don’t want—”
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Sure. Real food would be great.” He produced a smile that was almost sincere. “Don’t wear yourself out. I’ve got plans for you later.”
“Maybe I should get oysters and asparagus.”
“No need—though that sounds good.” This time his smile was real.
She laughed. “Is there anything you won’t eat?”
He thought a second. “Cardboard.”
She opened her car door. “No cardboard.”
“Sassy britches?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you can cook? Because I sure as hell can’t.”
“I can cook.”
“Get something that’s quick.” And the look on his face let her know that his impatience had nothing to do with his stomach.
In the end, she made spaghetti carbonara, though she’d had to use regular bacon because the Pig didn’t have pancetta. Gabe showed up at her door showered, wearing tan seersucker shorts, a faded and frayed UT sweatshirt, and Top-Siders.
“From football player to fraternity boy with one easy wardrobe change,” Neyland said.
He crushed her against him and plundered her mouth until she was pretty sure no spaghetti carbonara was going to get eaten.
But finally, his stomach growled audibly and, laughing, they broke apart.
“Have you ever noticed that we laugh as much as we kiss?” Neyland asked.
“Can’t say that I have. I hope that isn’t a comment on my technique.”
“It is.” She led him through the living room to the kitchen where she put the finishing touches on the pasta and put it on the table. “I reflect on our night together every morning and laugh all the way to work until I’m lightheaded.”
“I’m surprised there’s time
.” He pulled out her chair. “Especially if you’re allotting a minute of laughter for every time I make you come.”
“Every time you think you make me come. I’m a very good actress.”
“Nobody is that good an actress.” He spread his napkin in his lap.
“Miss Amelia wouldn’t approve,” Neyland said, “but I served everything at once.”
“I approve. I hate filling up on salad when there’s something better coming.” He took a bite of salad anyway. “Though this is good Caesar salad. Did you make the dressing?”
“Hardly. I can get a decent meal on the table, but there are limits to my skills and motivation. I do, however, know the best brand of dressing and croutons to buy.”
“Which ones?” He crunched on a crouton.
“I’m not telling you. Knowledge of brand superiority is my only cooking secret. If I give that away, I’m nothing.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” he said softly and covered her hand with his.
Her stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with wanting him in bed. And it scared her. Maybe it scared him, too, because he withdrew his hand and winked.
“Anyway, you can’t keep a secret from me. I’ll look in your refrigerator and discover the brand of salad dressing.”
“Go ahead. Then you can use that bit of intel when you make all your Caesar salads.”
“You never know. Maybe I’ll become a chef.” He dug into his pasta. “Or on second thought, you should. This is incredible.”
“At least you don’t want me to teach English at the high school.”
“No.” He ate another bite of pasta. “Coach doesn’t really want that, Neyland. He’s just scared for you.”
“I’m not so sure. Sometimes I think he lives to tell me what to do.”
He shrugged and sipped his wine. “That, too. Your dad is happy with his work, but failing in the NFL was hard on him. He doesn’t want you to feel that way.”
“So he wants me to settle.”
Gabe nodded. “He settled and found out that his second choice was what made him happy after all. He thinks it would work that way for you, too.”
“Do you think that?”
“No. If I did, I wouldn’t risk the wrath of Conrad MacKenzie by trying to help you. And, by the way, you didn’t do me any good today when you said it was my idea to submit that design. I’m going to hear about that tomorrow. Or, worse, he’ll just look at me.”
Reforming Gabe Page 12