Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1)

by S. M. Smith

The problem, Mr. Lassiter, is that as much as I’d love to hang around, fall into those arms and let you sweep me off my feet, I can’t risk the integrity of my work by doing so.

  “Okay, thanks.” I turn, stopping only to finish pulling a water out of the fridge. Before I can make my final escape, he stops me once again.

  “Are you coming out today?”

  “I’m actually going back into town to help with more clean up. And get a few quotes, if the opportunity arises,” I add in a stern tone. He isn’t going to stop me from getting what I need. The sooner I can finish this article, the better. For both of us.

  “Oh, okay.” His lack of demanding I do no such thing, throws me off guard and I finally do meet his eyes. His face is completely expressionless, but those eyes…he’s struggling.

  “Allie, can we, um, talk tonight?

  “I don’t think there’s much to—”

  “For the article, I mean.”

  “Oh.” Yes, the article I am here to write. About him. “Um…sure.”

  “I’ll be done around six.”

  “Sounds great.”

  I turn and start my mantra.

  I have a job to do. I have a job to do.

  ***

  Six o’clock arrives much sooner than I’m prepared for.

  For starters, I got caught up with the ladies at the shelter and was running late getting back to the ranch. Most had stories about Drew and Logan as boys and how they always knew when some prank was played in the community, Drew was the mastermind while Logan was usually the unwilling accomplice. Sheriff Perry showed up with some of the leftovers from the dance for the shelter and shared a few stories of his own. He had quite the tale of the only time either of the boys did any kind of time in the slammer. The three of them—yes, the good sheriff was ironically involved—had egged Judge Templeton’s house when Logan was about ten. Apparently Sheriff Perry and Drew had convinced Logan that eggs were great for pitching practice because they didn’t break windows. The good judge recommended the boys spend an hour in an empty cell to teach them how drab a career in crime would look like, then he sentenced the boys to cleaning every egg off the windows and siding of his home. Poor little Logan had no clue that hardened egg yolks were hard to clean off windows, but he learned a valuable lesson of not always believing what his big brother tells him.

  By the time I make it back to the ranch, Logan is already cleaned up and waiting for dinner. He had texted to have me pick up the order he put in at Lilly’s for burgers and her homemade waffle fries. His soapy scent wafts from where he stands between the living room and kitchen, remote in hand, his attention divided between awaiting my return and whatever James is reporting on his evening edition of my show when I scurry into the kitchen and lay out our dinner on the island.

  “I’m sorry. I got caught up at the shelter.” I give him a half-hearted smile and step around the island to head to my room. “I’m going to go change really quick. Got some of Mable’s cherries jubilee all over my shirt earlier. Man, that stuff is so delicious.”

  A hint of a grin pulls at his mouth and I force myself not to stop and stare. Knowing I can’t really afford to waste any of the time that Logan will willingly talk to me, I shed my t-shirt and pull a fitted hoodie on and exchange my jeans for a pair of shorts. I grab my notebook and pen and check my face to make sure that I’m not rocking leftover dessert anywhere else. When I get back to the kitchen, the food and Logan are missing.

  “Out here,” Logan calls through the open patio door. I step out and see he has set out our dinner on the table and is unceremoniously waiting for me. “Thought it was too nice a night to not enjoy it.” He points his hand at the seat across from him, as if to tell me to have at the burger and fries sitting in front of me.

  “I thought you go on a cleanse after the annual square dance?”

  His brows twist in confusion as he bites into his burger.

  “Your sister made a comment—” he makes an annoyed face and I stop myself. “Never mind.”

  “If you must know, I ordered a turkey burger and steamed broccoli.” He pops the lid on the small Styrofoam container beside him to show me his vegetable of choice.

  “Ah. See, now that I should have expected,” I joke, trying to kick the elephant in the room off the patio.

  “I can’t cleanse this week anyway. I have conditioning and camp this weekend.”

  “Right. Just so you know, I’ve been asked to accompany you.” Logan stops with a mouthful of turkey burger to stare at me. “Well, I just mean, I’ve been asked to be at the training facilities while you’re there. Inman wants to show me how well you interact with the staff, or something like that.” I stumble over my words worse than a when Jimmy is sent a rouge snap.

  “I see.” Logan leans back in his seat, wiping his mouth, his eyes watching my every movement. “I don’t know why. There’s nothing remarkable about how I interact with my coaches and team. I’m actually the quietest guy on the field.”

  That doesn’t surprise me. “I’m sure that’s exactly what he wants me to report. ‘Logan’s exceptionally polite and takes every bit of instruction to heart, adjusting his every move to reflect just how coachable he is.’”

  “Something like that.” He picks his burger back up and gives it his full attention.

  “I can see you being that way, though.” He doesn’t look at me again, which is fine because I’ve started downing waffle fries like they’re the best thing since sliced bread. Lilly sure does know how to do waffle fries right.

  We eat in silence until Logan’s dinner is long gone and I’m left to stare at half a double cheeseburger that I yearn to finish but have absolutely no room for. A breeze blows the wind chimes on the front porch and the faded melody mixes with the occasional moo and bird chirp. When another gust blows and rustles the wrappers and boxes, nearly blowing them off the table, Logan gets up to discard our trash.

  “Would you like me to save that for later for you?” He stops and looks down at me, his body a mere few inches from me. When I find myself looking up at him, I feel a sense of protection in his stance. Like he’d walk through fire to make sure that I never have to endure a hardship. It’s relaxing and unnerving at the same time.

  “No, I’m good.”

  I turn my head and stare out at the field to keep the war going on inside from being noticeable. The wind is starting to pick up and the light cloud coverage starts to gain momentum, allowing thicker, slightly darker clouds to start to take their place. Something about the way the grass dances in the field reminds me about the night before. How it felt to be wrapped up in Logan’s secure arms, held so close that I knew there would be nobody trying to interrupt us. He made me feel like I was floating. Floating around a tent lit by twinkly lights and full of people who were taking a quick break from their troubles to celebrate the freedoms of our great nation.

  But I can’t afford to float around with Logan anymore. I have a job to do. So when he returns, I adjust to face him, notebook in front of me and pen poised and ready to go. I turn on the recorder app on my phone and steady myself to put my game face on and get through our little interview.

  “Before we get started, I want you to know our previous arrangement still stands. You’ll be answering your own questions again.” I think I see enjoyment flash through those eyes of his, but I ignore it.

  “So tell me about this time in jail you did when you were ten.”

  Surprise, then a mock glare, crosses his face before he speaks up. “I pleaded the Fifth then, I’m pleading it now.”

  His response actually makes me giggle. “How did you even know to do so at ten?”

  “I quickly learned that whenever it came to whatever trouble my brother got us into, Pleading the Fifth was my only defense.”

  “But the way I hear it, you couldn’t incriminate yourself because you had no clue it was wrong.”

  He chuckles and rubs his chin. “I suppose that’s probably true. And I probably shouldn’t put all the blame on Dr
ew, especially since it was Jared who told me that I got extra points for hitting the windows.” He shakes his head and stares out at the field with look that tells me he’s lost in simpler times. I take a second to appreciate his profile. His square jaw, high cheekbones, and strong nose all accentuate his lips. Those lips that came dangerously close to kissing my own last night.

  “What about you? Spend anytime in lock-up?”

  My memories of last night are blitzed by memories of my one night in jail. The cold from the cinder block walls seep beneath the sleeves of my shirt and send shivers down my spine.

  “Just once. I…I got picked up behind Waldorf’s Pizzeria. Apparently dumpsters in alleys are not suitable places to sleep.”

  Logan’s eyes widen to the point that I’m afraid they’re going to pop out of his head. “You’re kidding me.”

  “I wish I were.” How much I wish I could just tell him I’m making up this bizarre story about a scared, runaway teen who was so messed up she couldn’t fathom people having arguments without a punch or two being thrown. “I had a really crappy past. My mom had a revolving door of angry men and I promised myself when I left her house, I wouldn’t be a target for any person again. So when Maggie and Walt got into this huge fight over me, I left. The officer who found me was really nice and tried to take me to a foster home, but by the time she found me, Maggie and Walt were already at the station filing a runaway report. They were there explaining my situation when Officer Carol brought me in.”

  Logan’s jaw locks and he gazes out at the sky that is turning darker by the second. I know if it were me, I’d have about a billion questions after that extremely vague explanation, so it doesn’t surprise me when he starts to ask. “So your mom…”

  “Is no longer my problem.”

  A surprised, hurt look flashes across his face as he turns back to me.

  “You don’t have anything to do with her at all?”

  “Why should I? She abandoned me long ago for whatever flavor of the week she could get her hands on. She left me to fend off the drunks she let in. She couldn’t care less if I ate or attended school; I was nothing but a mere inconvenience in her life. So I left.”

  Logan rubs a hand over his face and exhales shakily. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I fear we’re going to spend another night in the safe room. “Allie.”

  “Don’t, Logan. I got over it all long ago. My life is better now. If I hadn’t met Maggie and Walt…well, I wouldn’t be sitting across from you here, now.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but really it is. “They believed in me, gave me a safe place to stay, put fresh, home-cooked food in front of me and made sure that I finished school. With honors. They invested so much in me I will never be able to repay them. Which is why what happened last night…it can’t happen again.”

  The fire in his eyes is back, but behind it is exactly what I hate seeing from anyone I’ve shared my story with. He’ll never look at me the same again. Maybe that will make the line a whole lot easier from crossing.

  “Please, don’t look at me like that.”

  His features soften and the fire in his eyes turns down to a flame. “Like what.”

  “Like you want to fix me, fix my head so that we can have whatever it is you want.”

  He presses his lips together and glances down for just a moment. When he looks back up, determination is so etched in his soul I can practically read his thoughts before he says them out loud.

  “I don’t want to fix you. But I do want you to know that—”

  Lightning cracks not too far off and the clouds churn above as a gust of wind blows hair into my face.

  “We should go in, but listen to me, Logan. I can’t say that deep down, I wouldn’t mind letting what was going to happen last night—”

  “You mean you wouldn’t mind kissing me?”

  My patience waning, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “No, Logan. I wouldn’t mind. But let’s be real about a few things. First, letting anything get between us would compromise the integrity of this article. We both have so much riding on it, neither of us can afford for that to happen. Second, even if we did let something get between us, and it grew, how would that work? Your life if here. The ranch, your family. You can’t and won’t leave them. My life is in San Jose, with Walt and the station. This would never work and I’ve already had enough people cash out on me to be unable to withstand anyone else doing the same. I’m sorry.”

  I get up and gather my things, rushing into the house as if Logan and the storm were chasing me. I take my belongings to my room, taking as much time as possible in what little of a sanctuary I have here. Logan may be too much of a gentleman to not enter my room uninvited, but I become fair game just as soon as I step one toe out the door.

  I hear him call for Hank, and a second later the telltale sounds of claws click-clacking across the wood floor tells me they retreated to the study. Oh, how I could use a good game to take my mind off everything right now. The storm. The almost-kiss. The past that just won’t seem to stay where it belongs.

  Thunder rattles the windows as the storm creeps closer and closer. I try my best to ignore it as I pull up my laptop and check my email. I read through a couple of tips sent by various scouts about the different training camps they like to bunk out at and I suddenly wish I was sitting on rock-hard bleachers in the humid evening air, watching a bunch of smelly boys run drills and routes. Frustration hits me just as the first raindrops pelt the windows, so I close the laptop and decide to risk exposure for a soothing cup of tea. Or coffee. Not like I’m going to get to sleep tonight anyway.

  Logan isn’t in the living room when I creep as quietly as I can into the kitchen. Lightning flashes and lights up the empty kitchen a moment before I reach for the light switch. The bright track and recessed lighting give off way too much light for this gloomy night, so I immediately turn them back off and opt for just the light over the breakfast nook before I move myself to the coffee bar. I find a box of green tea and a bottle of honey easily and make myself a cup before curling up in a chair to watch the storm rip through the countryside. The poor shrubs that make up the beautiful landscape outside the large picture window thrash around in the wind, and rain crashes around so violently I instinctively clutch the mug in my hand as if it will secure me in the downpour.

  “You don’t have to sit in the dark.” I almost fall out of my seat when I hear Logan’s gentle voice. “Sorry.”

  I shake off his apology and keep my eyes focused on the monsoon outside.

  “It’s getting pretty nasty out there.”

  Not ready to look at him, I keep my eyes focused on the ornamental apple tree between the house and the paved driveway.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Only if you’re willing to answer it yourself.” I finally turn to look at him, only to find him sitting in the seat across the table from me, his hands folded out in front of him, his elbows propped on the table.

  A small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Well, this question doesn’t really apply to me, but will you indulge me anyway?”

  I turn my focus back to the rain and lightning outside, letting him determine if my staying gives him the permission he’s looking for or not.

  “Do you really feel like everyone has cashed out on you?”

  The warm mug has lost its magical touch in warming my insides. Wrapping my arms around me, I lift my chin and search for just the right words. “They have.”

  “Not everyone, Allie.” He exhales, drawing my attention back to him. “You have Walt, who obviously cares deeply about you. And then I may be off here, but your producer seemed to have your back more so than any boss should.”

  I nod. “So you got me. Two people out of everyone else I’ve ever known have been able to withstand the disaster that is my past.”

  “I’m still here.”

  Though his words warm my heart and send it to Cloud Nine, my head stays firmly planted on the ground in reality. He looks hurt whe
n I chortle. “Because you’d feel guilty for kicking me out in the middle of another tornado.”

  “There won’t be another tornado tonight. Rest assured.”

  “Not my point, Logan.”

  “And you’re missing mine, Allie. There are people out there who would love to have you in their lives, if you’d just let them.”

  “Why? So when they realize who I really am and how I can’t benefit them, they can just up and abandon me too? That’s what my parents did. What Danny did. That’s what God did.”

  Logan sits back, stunned, as if I’ve slapped him. “God did not abandon you, Allie. He promises to never leave us or forsake us and He’s faithful to his promises.”

  “Sure He is. Is that why He took a perfectly healthy, faithful servant and gave her so much sickness her body couldn’t handle it? Or why He’s blowing another destructive storm through this town after it’s seen so much wreckage and heartache to last a lifetime.”

  “Allie, I can’t tell you why God does what He does. But I can tell you His plan is perfect. He—”

  “Perfect. That’s…that’s funny. You know, when I asked to be saved a long time ago, I thought God and I had an understanding. I would make choices that He thought were acceptable and pleasing and in exchange, He would keep me from ever experiencing the hurt and pain again. Then Maggie…” Just saying her name rips at my chest. “Maggie got so sick, Logan. So fast.” The tears sting as they pool around my eyes and a lump in my throat makes taking a deep breath so hard. “Did you know I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her? I had an exam and a deadline. I did everything I could to get to her as quickly as possible, but when I got to the hospital in Santa Cruz, she was…she was gone.

  His hand reaches across the table for mine, but I hug myself tighter and shake my head.

  “I’ve worked so, so hard to get to a point where I can be okay with everything. I have put everything I am into my job and taking care of Walt and that has to be my priority.”

  When I finally meet Logan’s eyes, the determination is gone and something I can’t even begin to explain has taken its place. Whatever it is, he’s giving up. On me or this conversation, I’m not sure which, but right now, I don’t care.