by Taylor Hart
The woman reached for the little girl.
But he picked Maddy up, cuddling her to him and moved her out of reach.
Every part of the woman looked tense. “I swear I will call the cops if you don’t give her to me.”
He bobbed the screaming Maddy up and down, patting her back. He would give her to the woman, but he had some demands first. “Only if you quit telling me to leave.”
Maddy was actually calming down, touching the sides of his cheek and smiling through her tear-stained face.
He grinned at her. “That’s a girl. You like Uncle Sam, don’t you?” The same kind of singsong voice that the woman had used now came out of his mouth. He didn’t understand it, but it worked, calming Maddy down.
“Please.” The woman reached for her, and Sam glanced at her, seeing tears in the woman’s eyes. “I’ll quit telling you to leave, but please, give her to me.”
Not understanding why he was acting this way, he reluctantly handed Maddy over. To which Maddy promptly let out a long, happy ‘goo.’
The woman pulled Maddy against her chest and both of them seemed so content in each other’s arms. He couldn’t remember ever feeling that kind of contentment.
Her moisture-filled blue eyes turned to him. “Since you’re staying, why don’t you make yourself useful and clean up the house?”
4
After an hour of sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming, with Maddy sitting in her swing watching the woman do the massive amount of dishes, Sam was doubting his decision to stay and play maid. But he reminded himself he would do anything for Roman. He owed him. “So,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Have you heard from Roman?”
“No.” Her answer was short, and she didn’t look up at him.
Reluctantly, he had to admit to himself that he’d had to make a forced effort not to stare at her. She was beautiful. She didn’t have a speck of make up on, but everything about her radiated a sort of glow. Her golden hair and yoga body didn’t hurt either. “I haven’t either.”
Her eyes flashed up, and she scoffed, “Of course you haven’t. You think he would text you before me? I’m a family friend. You’re…well, why don’t you tell me what you were doing here anyway?”
Not liking her tone, he continued to make little piles of dirt and different types of cereal and crackers at various places around the kitchen. “Apparently you have everything figured out, remember?”
“So you came to apologize.”
He stopped sweeping and met her eyes. “Is that so hard to believe?”
She grunted. “Yeah, it actually is.”
“Why?”
Bending down, she put some dishes away in various cupboards. “Because past behavior predicts future behavior,” she said in an annoyingly know-it-all tone.
He didn’t need this. “And you’ve never done anything wrong?” he challenged.
Standing back up, she flat out laughed. “Of course I have, I was engaged to a cheater. That was my first mistake.” Her eyes hardened.
“Right.” His voice softened.
For a second, he could have sworn she was fighting tears. Then she threw him a steely glare. “You don’t get to know my personal life.”
“Fine.” He swept faster, making sure to get all the corners. Sam had always been fastidious about cleaning. Yes, he had a cleaning lady, but he’d gone through quite a few before settling on his current one, who kept things up to his standards. At this moment, he honed in on his compulsiveness for cleaning.
The home, he calculated, was about three thousand square feet on the main level alone and was all tile and wood flooring. He methodically moved across the floor.
They were both silent for a few minutes. He had refused to look at her. He would have to call Roman and tell him to send her away. Something. This wasn’t going to work with her here. But then he thought of how much Maddy smiled with her and how, even now, she’d settled down right after her bath and was quietly dozing to the sound of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” coming out of the swing.
“I guess you do have one redeeming quality,” she said, shocking him. “You do know how to wield a broom.”
Sam looked up at her, sweeping up the last of the piles of food from the kitchen floor. He wished a warm feeling hadn’t started in the center of his chest and dispersed into chills as he met her eyes. He gave her a half grin. “Well, don’t give me too much credit yet.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she quickly responded.
Shaking his head, he emptied the crumbs into the trash and put the broom back behind the pantry door. This woman was frustrating. “You haven’t told me your name still, ya know?” He turned back to see her drying all the little cups and bowls and silverware.
“I know.”
This made him chug out a laugh.
Giving him a narrow look, she gently put down the pan and walked around the kitchen island, sticking out her hand. “I’m only telling you because I’m impressed you stayed this long…Tiffany,” she said it flatly.
He took her hand, trying not to notice how electric it felt to touch her. He also refused to think about the vanilla smell that wafted off of her. “No last name?”
After tugging her hand back, a look of annoyance slipped onto her features. Then she pursed her lips together. “Chance.”
The moment felt awkward. This truce between them felt…fragile.
She didn’t move, looking him up and down. He’d put the baby food stained shirt back on. She rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to wash that shirt? I’m starting a load of Maddy’s things.”
He hadn’t been expecting the offer, but he was grateful. “Uh, sure.” He started to take it off.
“Whoa.” Putting her hand up to shield her eyes like she’d just witnessed something horrific, she moved toward the stairs. “Keep it on. I’ll go get you one of Roman’s shirts.” She jogged up the steps.
Usually, that was not the reaction from women when he took his shirt off. Frowning, he moved to the swing where Maddy’s head was now drooping and her eyes were half closed. She perked up and gave him a sleepy grin. Squatting down, he lightly touched her soft red hair. “Maddy Young, what can I say? I think we just might become friends.” He kept his voice a whisper. “But the jury’s still out on the blonde.”
He touched Maddy’s soft hand, keeping his hand on hers and liking the protective way he felt about her. “I never met anyone who could get me so messy so fast.” He grinned.
He positioned her head so it wouldn’t conk the metal rod holding the swing together. Something warm flooded through him. He hadn’t realized that he’d actually been jealous of Roman for all the wrong things—like his football prowess and the way he was a media darling. Now he realized he was far more jealous of the little princess right in front of him.
Tiffany’s steps thudded down the stairs. She emerged holding a load of laundry. She moved to the laundry room and threw a shirt at him. It landed on the couch. “Watch out, Dumont, you actually look like you might not live up to all the bad PR after all.”
Watching her walk to the laundry room, irritation stirred inside of him. He decided he didn’t care how beautiful she was, or how much Maddy liked her, she didn’t seem like the kind of woman that believed in redemption, and he didn’t need people like that in his life.
5
When Sam awoke the next morning to the sound of a baby crying, he jumped out of bed like a zombie and headed from the guest room to Maddy’s princess room down the hallway. He’d finally gotten his wish late last night when Tiffany had gone home to sleep, promising to return in the morning. She’d helped transfer Maddy to her crib, and then she’d left him detailed instructions on what he was to do if she woke up, needed a change, or wanted a bottle. The list had been kind of long, and Sam almost changed his mind and asked her to stay, but he’d wanted to be able to do this on his own. His mind flashed to the fact he hadn’t had heaviness in his chest or panicky feelings or anything for the last twelve hours—that was a bonus.
&n
bsp; Of course his cell phone buzzed at the exact moment he pulled Maddy out of the crib. She’d been up three times, wanting a bottle and then having one wet diaper and one poopy diaper. The last had almost made him gag, but he’d held it back.
He jogged down the stairs to the high chair and quickly grabbed for the little bowl of cheerios that Tiffany had put out for him to start her with in the morning. He was grateful Tiffany had taught him how to adjust the high chair and how to buckle her in.
By the time he reached for the phone, he was too late. It said he had a missed call from Roman.
Immediately, he called him back.
“Hey.” Roman picked up quickly.
“How’s your son?” Honestly, Sam could not remember what his name was.
Roman let out a long breath and Sam could sense his frustration. “He’s okay. He has a concussion, and they want to keep us another day and run more tests.”
“I’m glad he’s okay,” Sam said for lack of anything better to say. “Really glad.”
“Yeah, listen, I just talked to Katie. She’s in Europe this week with one of our friends, but she wants to come back. I…I told her everything’s fine and that you got everything handled. Right?”
“Of course.” He answered instantly and telling himself it was the truth.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Sam kept shoveling food into the hungry baby and she gulped and opened, then gulped and opened. “How did Josh fall?” Sam asked, not wanting to give Roman a chance to think of someone else to care for Maddy.
He sighed. “They were tossing the ball around up in his bedroom, and he dove for it and clonked his head against the hard wood of his bed frame.”
Sam’s heart sank, feeling bad for the boy. And for Roman. He hadn’t realized how much Roman had to juggle having a family. He’d only been doing it less than twenty-four hours, and he was already exhausted. Not to mention that was just one child. “What else can I do for you?” he offered, really meaning it.
Roman’s voice caught. “I…it really means a lot to me that you’re there, Sam. Tiffany called last night. She said you had things under control and that she would come back in the morning.”
At the mention of Tiffany’s name, and that she would be back, nervous energy filled his stomach. He moved to the fridge, swinging open the door. He searched for more food. “She said that? Hey, where’s more baby food?”
“Oh.” Roman seemed like he was jerked out of his thoughts. “It’s in the cupboard by the refrigerator. It’s all stocked up. Whatever she doesn’t eat, just stick in the fridge for later.”
Turning to the cupboard, he found peaches, green peas, and more carrots. He pulled them out. “Got it.”
“I mean it, Sam. You couldn’t have come at a better time yesterday. It was like…” his voice trailed off, and then emotion filled it. “You were there for a reason.”
Warm chills washed over Sam. He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear it. “It was no big deal.” He popped off the top and got a spoon.
Maddy was busy hitting the high chair excitedly in anticipation of the food.
He laughed as she slurped back the food. “Boy, this girl can eat.”
Maddy grinned, and her food hung right inside her mouth. Then she blew it out…all over his face.
“Dang!” he stood, reaching for a clean rag that Tiffany had put on top of the newly cleaned high chair last night. “She’s great at getting in some good food spits, too.”
Roman laughed through the phone. “You have no idea.”
“I’m learning.” He wiped her mouth and then filled it with more peaches.
This time she gulped it back.
“I guess she’s a little picky.”
Roman roared out another laugh. “Oh yeah, I never knew picky until I met Maddy.”
Sam grinned, shoveling in more food. “I think she’s going to be as big as her father.”
“Let’s hope not. Katie says that wouldn’t be good for her.”
Sam laughed, thinking that he’d never officially met Roman’s new wife. “I’m glad you found Katie.”
Roman didn’t speak for a second. “The truth is that I got lucky.” He sighed. “And, Sam, Sheena dumping you was the best thing that ever happened to you. You know that, right?”
Sam pushed another round of food into Maddy’s mouth. He sighed. “I know that now, but I just…feel bad about what I did to you.” His mind went to the fact he actually felt great this morning. The past couple of months he felt like every day he woke up and the burden of everything he had done wrong felt more and more crushing. His shrink had asked him if he thought the panic attacks had something to do with the guilt. He hadn’t known for sure then. All he knew now was today, sitting here feeding this pretty little girl and making amends, he felt better than he had in years.
Roman went silent for a second. “I’m worried about Josh,” he confessed. “Concussions are a serious thing, ya know.”
“He’ll be okay,” Sam offered, wishing he could fix it. He knew it might be a lie, but at the moment, Roman needed to hear the reassurance.
“Thank you.” He coughed. “Well, I hope you really are good to stay because I need someone there.”
“I got it handled. Don’t worry about things here. Tell Katie not to worry either.” He was needed by someone. Sam liked the sound of that.
“When will you hear about your contract with Miami?”
“Uh, it’s fine. My agent said we should know by the end of the week if I need to get to Miami to start training with the team.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Do you want to go to Miami?”
A tinge of anger passed through him. No, he would prefer to stay as the starting quarterback for the Destroyers, but Sam let it go. He reminded himself it really wasn’t Roman’s fault he was getting traded—it was his own. “Florida is home, so there’s that.”
“True,” Roman agreed. He sighed and then changed the subject. “So, you’re getting along with Tiffany?” His voice was suspicious.
“Ah, sure.”
A light laugh sounded through the phone. “She kinda hates you?”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Yeah, she’s always been fiercely protective of me. Of Katie. See, she and Katie were best friends in high school, and both of them fought over Katie’s first husband.”
“Whoa…what?”
“He…passed away a few years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, anyway, they made amends and are best friends again. But recently, the guy she was engaged to broke her heart. He’s in a band, and he ended up cheating on her. It was a raw deal. Tiffany seems tough, but she’s been having a hard time.”
“Oh.” It was all beginning to make more sense now, but it felt weird talking to Roman about ‘cheating.’
“Dude, look, I wasn’t thinking of what you did, okay?”
“No, of course not.” The fact he brought it up told him he was thinking about it.
Roman sighed. “It’s over. If we’re going to be friends, you have to let it go too.”
Without wanting to, Sam got choked up at how easily it seemed Roman had forgiven him—well, minus the black eye. “Okay.”
“Anyway, Tiffany is a great girl. Don’t worry, she’s not all bite. She has a big heart.”
Sam let out a puff of breath and pushed away what he’d felt for her yesterday. “It’ll all be good.” Sam finished up feeding Maddy, wiping her face. He stood and got a sippy cup. He filled it up with water, gave it to her, and smiled as she took a couple of long pulls on it. He actually did feel bad for Tiffany.
Roman exhaled. “Yeah, you’ll have to hear her sing, she’s good. Doing the indie thing. You should ask her about it.”
“Yeah?” He couldn’t picture her really wanting to talk to him at the moment.
“Hey.” He heard the door open and Tiffany call out.
“Is that Tiffany?” Roman asked.
“Yep.” Sam tried to balance the phone as he wiped Maddy’s legs, got ready to unbuckle her and turned to face Tiffany.
“Well, almighty!” Another older blonde woman bustled in next to Tiffany, putting her purse down and clapping her hands before reaching for Maddy. “You come to Auntie Reese, little Darling!”
“Oh, that’s Reese, Tiffany’s mom. Let me talk to her,” Roman commanded.
“Alright.” Giving up the baby, Sam turned to the lady, who looked like a replica of Tiffany. He supposed in reality Tiffany was a replica of her, except the woman was much older and a bit heavier with shorter hair and make up an inch thick. “Roman says he wants to talk to you.”
Tossing the baby into the air, Reese laughed and Maddy giggled. Actually giggled. A million emotions whirled around Sam. Plus, simply having Tiffany in the same room was making him kind of nervous. Reese balanced Maddy on her hip and took the phone.
Reese gave Sam a wink exaggerated by her fake eyelashes. “Thanks, Sugar.” Then she cleared her throat. “Roman Young, you are in trouble.” Her tone sounded like a scolding mother. “You know you could have had Tiffany bring little Maddy back to our place, and I’d have treated her like the princess she is.”
Sam watched as Tiffany, clearly drawn to Maddy, made googly eyes at the baby. “Hey, sweet thing,” she whispered. “It looks like you made it through the night.” Her gaze turned to him. Her lip cocked up to the side. “It looks like you’ve just come back from the dead.”
He noticed Tiffany looked taller in the red summer clogs she wore. She carried a sack full of toys and another sack that she placed on the counter. Today, she wore a jean skirt that ended just above her tanned knees and a light, airy kind of yellow shirt with a string at the top. Her long hair fell down her back in soft curls. He smelled the same light vanilla smell from the night before and tried to not think about how appealing it was.
A half hour later, Sam showered, thinking how between Tiffany and her mother he’d speedily become superfluous in caring for Maddy.
After Reese had gotten off the phone, she’d informed him that she would be taking over for the day, and she’d shooed him off to get a shower.