“So he’s on the team?” Alanna asked.
“We haven’t made any announcements regarding which of the boys we’re going to take on and which are going to be cut. We’ll make that decision over the weekend and announce it at school on Monday. You’ll have to wait until then to find out our decision. Just like everyone else.”
Alanna smiled as she tucked her recorder in her purse. “Fair enough. And I’ll do my best to be fair in my article. I don’t want to drag anyone over the coals, you know. I find the truth is always better than sensationalism.”
“I hope that’s true.” He shook her hand and watched her walk away before turning back to Karissa. “So what did she ask you?”
Karissa shrugged. “Mostly about what I was up to and about Paul. She asked a little about us and what I thought about the drug issue. I was careful not to give up any details, since the last thing you guys need right now is more rumors flying. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was a reporter now. I guess I should read the paper more often.” Her smile was a little embarrassed and a lot conciliatory.
“Yeah, maybe.” He reigned in his irritation as best he could, and tensed and released his shoulders, trying to loosen the aching muscles. “Sorry if I was short with you. It’s just a really bad time to not know who you’re talking to.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice was a little clipped and she held herself stiffly in his embrace.
“Can we go for ice cream, Mom? You promised!” Paul said, tugging on her arm.
“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” she started.
Marsh released her. “But you promised,” he teased. “It’s not that late, and I’ll buy.” He didn’t want her to go home still mad at him and hoped to cajole her into a better mood. Was she still upset about her ex having a baby today? He wanted to ask her if she’d heard from him, but didn’t want to remind her if she wasn’t thinking about it. Besides, he didn’t want her thinking about any man but himself when they were together.
Karissa seemed to consider for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. How long until you can leave?”
One of the boys on his team walked past them on his way out of the locker room, a gym bag thrown over one shoulder. “See you later, Coach.”
“See you.” Marsh waited a few seconds, then turned back to Karissa. “Not too long if they’re already coming out. Can you wait for me?”
She shook her head. “I have to drop some stuff off to Hank. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll meet you there.”
He smiled, relieved he would get a chance to make things up to her.
The boys finished showering and dressing faster than Marsh had expected, and ten minutes after returning to the locker room, he was headed for his car. He mentally reviewed his conversation with Karissa and tried to figure out what he’d said to set her off, or if the thing bothering her was unrelated to their conversation.
He arrived at Wendel’s which, in addition to their burgers and fries, had terrific shakes and soft-serve ice cream, as well as great flavors of the scoopable kind. He didn’t see Karissa’s car in the lot, so he went inside to claim a booth for them. The parking lot was predictably full and the inside was filled beyond capacity; most of the patrons had been at the game and greeted Marsh as he walked past. If he got a few grumbles or glares, he reminded himself that it was all part of the job.
“Marsh, is that you?” a woman’s voice asked from his right while he spoke with a man who used to teach senior English.
Marsh turned to see the tall willowy blonde he’d dated for two years in high school. “Sasha, I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?” He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
He listened to her prattle about her job in Boulder, her ex-husbands—all three of them—and the two kids who were in the corner playing arcade games. She finally slowed enough to ask, “So, what are you up to?”
“I teach history at the high school, and I’m the boys’ basketball coach.”
“Right.” She drew the word out, infusing it with extra meaning. “I heard about your little problems. What a terrible ending to such a promising season.” She patted his arm, as if to console him.
He bristled, irritated by her patronizing attitude. “The season isn’t over yet, so we’ve still got time to prove ourselves. I’m proud of how the boys played tonight.”
She looked confused. “But I heard you lost.”
“We did, but it was close. How long are you in town, Sash?” Marsh remembered how much he’d liked Sasha, how sweet and unaffected she’d been. No longer. He much preferred Karissa.
“Marsh!” Paul’s voice preceded the impact of a little body against Marsh’s legs.
“Hey, bud.” Marsh turned and picked up the kid, putting him between himself and Sasha. “Where’s your mom?”
“So slow. She’s coming.”
“Who’s this?” Sasha’s voice turned a little too bright.
“You know Karissa Carver. Hank and Bo’s little sister. This is her son.”
“Yeah, and Marsh is buying us ice cream!” Paul shot an arm into the air in celebration, narrowly missing Sasha’s face.
Sasha stepped back out of reach.
Marsh glanced behind him to find Karissa standing less than ten feet away, her eyes wary. “Come on over. You remember Sasha, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Karissa came to stand beside Marsh, though she didn’t touch him. “You two dated for a couple of years, didn’t you?” An Arctic chill blew through her tone.
“You have such an amazing memory!” Sasha cooed. “Marsh was always such a good boyfriend.” She gave his arm a playful squeeze.
“Yes.” Karissa turned to Marsh, though the frigid expression on her face didn’t soften at all. “Should we order? I don’t want to keep Paul out too late.”
“Of course.” He nodded to Sasha, glad to have an excuse to leave her behind but seriously confused about what was eating at Karissa. “It was good running into you. Have a nice weekend.”
Karissa tried to reign in all of the insecurities and frustration that roared through her when she saw Marsh talking with the beautiful Sasha. She’d recognized the blonde on sight and the flirty way she touched Marsh’s arm, the flutter of her lashes, the teasing smile. ‘Sash’ was a woman on the prowl, and Marsh didn’t seem too determined to put up a fight.
After the night Karissa had experienced, the last thing she needed was to deal with her insecurities and remember the way she’d felt when Dennis had told her he wanted to marry Sheryl. One corner of her mind niggled, saying that she was overreacting, but all she could feel was the pain of being passed over for another woman. When she’d talked to Dennis earlier that day, he sounded so jazzed about being a daddy. He’d never been that way before, which had to be her fault, somehow, because Paul had been perfect.
What was she doing getting involved with another man? Sure, Marsh claimed he’d loved her for years, but that didn’t mean much. Especially considering how Dennis had kept saying he loved her almost up until he left her.
Well, if Marsh wanted Sasha, there was nothing Karissa could do about it, so there was no point in getting bent out of shape. And what was with the criticism about how she’d talked with someone she knew in school, as if she could have ESP about Alanna’s profession? Where did he get off telling her who she could be friends with? Dennis had done the same thing and there was no way she would put up with it again.
She got through the ordering process, then kept up a steady stream of chatter with her son, so she wouldn’t have to hold a conversation with Marsh. When Marsh returned with their ice cream though, Paul quieted down.
“Are you having a rough day?” Marsh asked carefully when he was finally given a chance to talk.
“Not especially.” She focused on her ice cream cone so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
“Tired?”
“Nope. I’m fine.”
Marsh gave a sigh of irritation. “So what’s bothering you?
”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” That was patently untrue, but Karissa wasn’t going to discuss her feelings in front of her son. It was bad enough she was letting Paul and Marsh spend time together when she wasn’t sure what she wanted from the relationship—thinking she was falling for Marsh didn’t mean he was the right one for her. What would happen to Paul if another man left him behind? She should never have let them grow so close. But then, how could she have prevented it?
“Fine.” Giving up on getting any answers from Karissa, and completely irritated by the way she had shut him out, Marsh turned to Paul. “So what’s going on, little man?”
“I have a baby sister. Daddy called to tell me. He even asked to talk to me so he could tell me himself.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I get to go down next weekend and meet my baby and we’re going to be bestest friends.”
Marsh snuck a glance at Karissa, but her face was impassive and her gaze was focused on the ice cream in front of her. “That’s cool,” Marsh said. “I bet you’re the best big brother ever.”
“Of course.” Paul nodded and went back to his ice cream.
Marsh studied Karissa for a long moment. Was the baby what was bothering her? And what was it, exactly, that bothered her? That it wasn’t hers? Did she still wish she was with the jerk? Had her attitude since she arrived at Wendel’s been due to jealousy, or had he been reading her wrong? And what was wrong with women that they wouldn’t just come right out and say what was bothering them?
Somehow they got through the ice cream—a crazy treat considering it was the middle of the winter and already well below zero outside—and Marsh walked Karissa out to her car. “Can I come over and talk after you’ve had time to get Paul into bed?” he asked once the boy was safely strapped into his car seat.
“I don’t see why you would need to.” Karissa reached for the handle on her door.
Marsh touched her arm, needing some kind of contact and nearly at the end of his rope with her attitude. “Hey, don’t play dumb with me. I know something’s wrong. Just tell me what it is so I can fix it.”
“Maybe it can’t be fixed.” She waited several seconds, then added, “You and Sasha looked cozy. Isn’t it nice to touch base again after years apart? She looks better than ever. I wonder how much plastic surgery she’s had.”
Marsh had never heard Karissa say something so catty, but at least it gave him something to work with. “Karissa, Sasha doesn’t mean anything to me. You know how I feel about you.”
“You guys dated for two years.” Karissa shrugged one shoulder as if it were a foregone conclusion. “You don’t do that if you don’t care about someone. You aren’t built that way.”
He reached out and took her chin, turning her face toward him so he could see her eyes. “I liked Sasha fine, and she was fun and sweet, but it never got serious between us, which is why we broke up. Now I wouldn’t date her even if you weren’t in the picture. And why is this even an issue—you know you’re the one I love, right?”
It took her a long moment to respond. “I’m not sure what I know anymore. Really. I’m just tired. I’ll feel better tomorrow. Can I go home now?” She touched a finger to the corner of her eye, wiping away a tear that had been growing there.
That tear just about killed him. “Sure, in just a minute.” He leaned in and kissed her with all the fervor and frustration he’d been feeling that evening. He poured his heart into the kiss until she started to soften, relax against him. No matter what was wrong, he had to make her understand that she was still number one for him.
He pulled back and she sucked in a breath before unsteadily asking, “What was that?”
“A reminder of why you’re with me, and why I’m with you.” He brushed the hair out of her face, lingering on her cheeks, which were already cold. “We have something special. Don’t shut me out.”
It took her a long moment, but eventually she nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just this thing with Dennis, and then you basically took me to task for having a conversation with Alanna, and then you were all flirty with your ex-girlfriend and it just got on my last nerve. Trusting that you’re not going to change your mind about us eventually is not going to be easy. It’s the hardest part of all of this, and it was hard seeing you with someone else.”
He slid his hands up her arms, along her shoulders, and to her neck so he cradled her face, tipping her head back to face him. “I love you, Karissa. How long is it going to take you to understand what that means to me?”
“I don’t know.” She stared into his eyes. “I thought I was ready to move past all of this, but now I’m not so sure.”
The pain and doubt in her voice tore at him. “You don’t trust me. Even after everything I’ve done to reassure you, you still don’t trust me.”
She shook her head and wet her lips. “I don’t trust me. I don’t trust that you’ll keep loving me. That I’m really worth it.”
He slid his hands onto both of her shoulders as the icy wind whipped past them. “I’m not Dennis.”
“No, you’re not.” She paused for a long moment. “I really ought to go. You’ll be there for Sunday dinner?”
“Yes.” His shoulders fell as he realized he hadn’t made any headway. She still thought he would leave her. How could he convince her that he wasn’t going anywhere? “What’s it going to take to convince you that I mean it, Karissa? Because I’ll buy you a ring any time you’re ready.”
She shuddered slightly and pulled out of his grip. “And that worked so well for me last time.”
He let his hands drop and stepped back, feeling like he’d just been slapped. She said she knew he wasn’t Dennis, but she had to be lying if she thought so little of him. “Fine. See you at Sunday dinner.” He moved to the sidewalk and watched her car pull back onto the road.
Maybe Hank had been right. Maybe Karissa was too hurt to take a relationship seriously yet. And she may never be ready.
Marsh pushed that thought away. He wasn’t about to concede defeat.
Though Marsh had tried to get a chance to talk with Karissa at her parents’ place Sunday night, she had been standoffish and made excuses not to be alone with him for even a moment. He had left the house frustrated and with no clue how to fix things—if their relationship was even fixable.
Marsh didn’t expect to be called to the front office Monday afternoon, but it didn’t worry him. Seeing the detective there, on the other hand, made Marsh wonder what was going on.
“What’s up? Do you have an update on the drug dealer?” He took the empty seat by the detective. Though he hadn’t expected to be personally notified when they found the answer, he couldn’t think of another reason the detective would want to speak with him.
“There have been developments,” Detective Carlson said, folding his hands together. “We’ve been leaning hard on the boys who were caught with the steroids, and someone finally said where he was getting them. He mentioned your name, actually.”
Marsh blinked in surprise. How on earth? Had he misheard that? He lowered his brows and stared. “What? Are you serious? Because there’s no way someone mentioned me. I knew nothing about it.”
“You understand, we can’t ignore this lead. A state title is nothing to sniff at. Many coaches have taken extreme measures to ensure their team’s success.” The detective’s face was unreadable, his gaze piercing as he studied Marsh.
Feeling like he’d been sucker punched, Marsh shook his head. “Whoever said it lied. Or maybe you misunderstood. Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t provide drugs to those boys. Do you know the health hazards? And I never want to win anything by cheating.” As the shock at being wrongly accused started to wear off, Marsh felt a strong sense of betrayal and growing anger. Why had one of his boys lied about him?
“I’m asking for your cooperation,” Detective Carlson said. “I’d like to do a search of your car, your office, and your house—to make sure the claims are unsubstantiated. I can get a warra
nt, but it would be a lot faster and easier if you just let us check, so we can mark you off of our list. The principal said he anticipates your full cooperation.”
So he really didn’t have a choice, even if the court didn’t order it. “Yeah, of course, go ahead.” Marsh dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He pointed out the one to the truck, and said where he’d parked it. “Check my office, whenever. When you’re finished here, I’ll let you into the house.”
Detective Carlson’s lips twisted slightly in a wry grin. “We already have a guy in your office. It’s school property, so we got him started while you were in here talking to us.”
Marsh felt the violation and better understood why the students had been angry when their lockers were searched the previous week. He forced the emotions into submission, determined to focus on what was important. He had to let the cops do their jobs and clear his name so he could go on with his life. Knowing it was the man’s job didn’t make it feel less personal, though.
He thought of Karissa’s black and white view on life and wondered if she would believe him when he said that he was innocent. Would she hear about it at work tonight if he didn’t call her first? Would she think he was capable of selling drugs to his boys? Was she still upset enough from the previous night to hold this against him too?
And what was with the kid pointing the finger at him when they knew it was a lie? Who were they trying to protect, anyway? His mind kept coming back to that one, important point. “So just one kid talked, out of everyone? With eleven kids taking the drug, you’d think someone would have told the truth by now.”
The detective shrugged. “Most of them don’t seem to know where it came from originally. The ones who do haven’t talked at all until now.”
Marsh tried to focus on that. “Someone must be threatening them if they talk. Why else would they name me instead of their real source?” He sighed and wondered what he was going to do. He loved his job, loved working with the kids—even the ones who were a little harder to get to know. What would this do to his career?
Second Chances: Love in Juniper Ridge (Carver Ranch Book 1) Page 12