Ruff and Tumble

by Lucy Gilmore

  And oh, he looked good doing it—smiling and slightly disheveled, his uniform stretching tight across his thighs. It was bizarre to think that she’d had those thighs intertwined with her own, more bizarre still to accept that she was sitting in his parents’ house and getting ready to watch him play.

  “Well,” Paula said, summing up Hailey’s feelings. “If that doesn’t get you a place for every puppy in the country, dear, I don’t know what else will.”

  * * *

  It was, without a doubt, the greatest game Cole Bennett had ever played.

  That was the consensus of the room where Hailey watched, anyway, and it could be argued that she was sitting among the country’s leading experts. She’d always had a critical eye where he was concerned, but it was nothing compared to the running dialogue his dad made the entire time.

  Every play was analyzed from start to finish. Every decision was run through an internal checklist. Even the smallest feint was ranked according to ones made in the twenty-odd years that Cole had been training.

  “Did you see that, Hailey?” Julian demanded when Cole performed a seven-step drop back that resulted in a forty-yard gain. “Not a single stumble. Not a moment’s hesitation.”

  “Yes, I saw,” Hailey soothed. It had only taken her a few minutes to realize that her role today was to calmly agree with everything Julian said. She could have argued with several of his points, especially the ones regarding Cole’s tendency to resort to an unbalanced T-spread under pressure, but she kept her lips sealed. She’d promised to do her best to keep this man relaxed and alive, and she intended to uphold her end of the bargain.

  After what Cole had done for the Puppy Cup—and for her career—it was the least she could do. There were no fewer than fifteen excited texts on her phone from Jasmine and the rest of the office. Apparently, the phones were ringing off the hook.

  “You did this,” Julian said, turning to her with a beaming smile. Nala had long since fallen asleep on his lap, and despite his occasional outburst and jerk of excitement, she seemed content to remain there. “You and the puppy. You and all the puppies.”

  “We’re only up by three points,” Hailey pointed out. “And it’s not even halftime yet. Let’s just wait and see how things roll out, shall we?”

  “Why?” Julian asked sharply. “What do you know? What do you see?”

  Across the room, Regina caught Hailey’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Sometime in the hour since kickoff, both of Cole’s parents had decided that Hailey’s supposed luck extended to clairvoyance. They kept peppering her with questions about the game’s outcome. No matter how many times she disclaimed such a power, they remained steadfast in their beliefs.

  “I don’t see anything,” Hailey said. “But I don’t like the way the referee is so quick to call an interception.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Isn’t it true, Julian?”

  “I never liked that guy. I don’t trust his face.”

  Confident that she’d bought Cole—and his dad—a little wiggle room, Hailey sat back in her chair and fixed her eyes on the screen. She’d never admit it to anyone in this family, but she was watching Cole’s movements much more keenly than she had in games past. Now that she knew the exact scope of his shoulder problems, she could see it in every move he made and every play he called. To outward appearances, he was as much in control of himself as he always was—precise and powerful, making the most of his team and their cohesiveness.

  But there was a hesitation to his movements that she hadn’t noticed before. He guarded his right side with more care than usual. It was a feeling she knew well. He was protecting himself.

  “Take the opening, boy!” Julian jumped up from his chair as one of the offensive tackles from the other team stumbled and left a huge gap. “This is your chance!”

  Hailey also leapt up, but only so she could catch Nala, who was understandably alarmed by this sudden movement. Her attention was so taken up with making sure the puppy didn’t fall to the floor that she missed the crash.

  She heard it, though. Not the literal blow but the effect it had on all those who were watching. Julian, Paula, Regina…even the announcers on the television audibly winced. Hailey couldn’t bring herself to look at the screen, so she looked at the faces of Cole’s loved ones instead.

  It was a mistake. Bodily impact was a physical thing—a tangible thing. Hailey had spent far too many years watching football to be squeamish about a blow or two. The things those men went through on the field were sometimes akin to battle, but she was inured to it by now. The expressions of mingled dismay and despair, the way Mia’s face scrunched up and tears—lots of them—began to fall, was a much more difficult thing to witness.

  “Is Uncle Cole okay?” the girl asked, her voice small but unmistakable in the horrified silence of the room. “How come he’s not getting up?”

  “He’ll get up,” Julian said, his mouth a grim line. “Give him a second.”

  “He always gets up,” Paula agreed. Her mouth wasn’t grim or a line. It wobbled, and in such a way that Hailey’s blood turned cold. She had yet to see this woman anything but cheerful and resolute, even when standing over her husband’s hospital bed.

  Inadvertently, Hailey looked to Regina. Of all the people in this room, Cole’s sister was the one who was closest to him. She was his manager and his friend, the person he turned to first when things went wrong.

  What she saw in the other woman’s face didn’t just turn her blood cold. It froze it in her veins.

  He’s not getting up.

  Hailey clutched the puppy in her arms and forced herself to look at the television. By now, the announcers had managed to control their first outbursts of emotion, all three of them starting to speculate on what they’d witnessed and the likelihood of Cole pulling himself together again. She tuned out their voices and focused on the image of Cole instead. He was moving, which was good, but not in a vertical direction. He thrashed and shifted, his right arm hanging limp at his side.

  Having so recently watched the footage of Julian Bennett’s career ending before her eyes, Hailey had no difficulty identifying what she was witnessing right now. A few days ago, she might have joined this family in willing Cole to his feet, in hoping that he’d rise up to the challenge and see this game through to the end, but she knew better now.

  There would be no more games after this. Oh, he might try another surgery or a long rehabilitation, but there were limits to what the human body could endure—limits to what it should endure.

  “I’m going to make some tea,” Hailey announced. No one in this room wanted tea, but it was the only thing she could think of to offer. “Mia, do you think you could show me where it is?”

  Regina picked up on Hailey’s meaning right away. “What a good idea,” she said. “Mia, love, could you help Hailey in the kitchen? You know where Grandma keeps the tea stuff, right?”

  Mia nodded, her eyes still stricken and wide, but she took the hand Hailey offered. Nala wriggled to be let down, but the puppy would serve as a good distraction if the girl started to feel overwhelmed. Taking a page from Cole’s book, Hailey tucked the puppy under her arm in a football hold. She wasn’t nearly as strong as Cole, but the puppy instantly calmed down.

  In the manner of all four-year-old children, Mia was easily distracted by the task of locating and making the tea. Hailey had to fight every instinct she had not to peek at her phone or switch on the television mounted next to the refrigerator, but she managed it. There were already enough people in this house doing their best to turn the accident into a tragedy.

  “You’re very good at this,” Hailey noted as Mia set about arranging plates and spoons on a tray. “You must have a lot of tea parties.”

  The girl nodded as she reverently placed a bowl of sugar in the center. “Uncle Cole likes tea. We drink it this way.” She went through the motions of sipping from one of
the porcelain cups, her pinkie finger held exaggeratedly in the air. She only got about halfway through before her eyes started filling with tears. “Did he have a heart ’tack? Like Grandpa?”

  Hailey wasn’t sure to what extent she was licensed to console a child who wasn’t her own, but she took the initiative anyway. “No. He hurt his shoulder, that’s all. He might not be able to play football for a while, but he’ll be okay.”

  This served to calm Mia’s fears, but that obviously wasn’t the case when they returned to the other room. Regina stood off to one side, her phone pressed against her ear and a low-voiced, urgent conversation taking place. Paula was wringing her hands and watching Regina talk, lines of anxiety around her mouth. And Julian was staring fixedly at the television as though he could will his son into wellness.

  Hailey felt like shaking these people. Okay, so it was bad. Cole wasn’t going to finish the game. The Lumberjacks could very well lose the game. The curse had struck and struck hard, and Hailey was likely to bear the brunt of the blame.

  But he was fine. He hadn’t suffered a concussion, and from the sound of it, the only thing the announcers were worried about was the likelihood that he’d be able to finish out the season.

  “Give me that lucky puppy,” Julian demanded, holding out his arms. “Marshall is going to have to pull this game out of his ass if we’re going to break the blasted curse. Lord knows he’s no Cole.”

  Hailey wasn’t sure about handing over a soft, delicate creature when Julian was obviously so upset, but at a nod from Paula, she gave in. The puppy seemed to soothe the older man, calming him down as he ranted and fumed at the television screen. Nala also seemed to exert a beneficial influence on the Lumberjacks as they sent their backup quarterback in. Tucker Marshall was no Cole Bennett, it was true, but he was a perfectly good football player in his own right. He was young and untried, but he was also hungry. How could he be anything else? For the past few years, he’d been relegated to the role of Cole’s much-less-exalted shadow.

  The rest of the game passed in something of a blur. Hailey drank tea with Mia and took Nala out for regular bathroom breaks. She made sandwiches for Cole’s parents and listened as Regina tried to find out what was happening in the X-ray room.

  No one asked her how she felt, and no one solicited her opinion on Cole’s condition. No one commiserated with her unenviable position as the woman whose luck had caused the Lumberjacks’ star quarterback to get hit so hard that his shoulder dislocated during the final playoff game. In fact, by the time the Lumberjacks scored a touchdown in the final minute—six points that not just broke the curse but shattered it in a blaze of last-minute glory—it was almost as though she wasn’t in the room at all.

  And that was fine with her. Julian was anxious but alive. Against all odds, the Lumberjacks had won the game and were officially in the Kickoff Cup. Cole might not play football again, but he was going to be okay.

  In her world, that counted as a pretty good day.

  “He’ll be back,” Julian said as Hailey discreetly made arrangements for an Uber to pick her up and take her home. She had the feeling this family was going to need some time to reconcile themselves to their new future. “A week of rest, another to regain his strength, and he’ll be ready for the Kickoff Cup.”

  Hailey could only stare at him, so painfully optimistic, so unwilling to accept the evidence before his eyes, but he wasn’t finished yet.

  “Just you wait, Hailey,” he said reassuringly. “Nothing keeps a Bennett down for long.”

  Chapter 17

  “If you love me, lock the door.” Cole didn’t wait for his sister to make it all the way inside his condo before issuing orders. “Put up a Do Not Disturb sign. Tell Mom and Dad that I’m asleep and likely to stay that way until next year.”

  Regina clicked the door behind her. She didn’t lock it, but her next words allayed his fears. “Relax. I left them at home. Lucky for you, the doctor told Dad he needed to take it easy for the next few days. Mom is standing guard over him as we speak.”

  “I guess doctors do have their occasional uses,” Cole said with a rueful glance at his arm. The sling he wore was a pain in the ass but a lot less invasive than he’d feared. Regina tossed him a paper-wrapped sandwich, at which point he grinned and added, “So do sisters. Thank you. I’m starving.”

  “Yeah, well. Eat it fast. Dr. Hampton wants to see you.”

  He was in the middle of biting into a giant turkey sandwich—which, he noted, had been deliberately garnished with kale—so he had to respond by shaking his head and swallowing.

  “No can do,” he said when all Regina did was stand and stare menacingly down at him. He pulled a piece of turkey from his sandwich and tossed it to Philip, who sat ready and waiting at his feet. “My better half and I are needed at the Puppy Cup set this afternoon. Hailey’s orders.”

  “Cole.”

  “Reggie.”

  “He’s your team doctor. You can’t avoid him forever.”

  “I made a commitment to Hailey. I can’t avoid her, either. Not when the appearance of luck is more important than ever. We’re going to have to transition hard if we want to convince the team—and Seattle—that she still has the power to break the curse.”

  Regina showed signs of glaring at him for as long as it took for him to give in—a thing she had done in the past and could very well do again—but he ignored her. Okay, so he should probably make an appearance at the Lumberjack medical offices, and he was sure Coach and Aiko had a whole list of inspirational pep talks ready to go, but that was too bad. Marshall could handle things on the quarterback front for a day or two. Cole had puppies to coach.

  “She’ll be here to pick me up any minute, so you’d better wrap up whatever this is.” Using his left hand, he twirled a finger in his sister’s general direction. “You might be able to intimidate me into doing what you want, but you won’t be able to move her. She’ll somehow end up getting her way and giving you a puppy, and then where will you be?”

  Regina didn’t, as he’d hoped, take offense at his words and storm off in irritation. Instead, her expression grew somber, and she lowered herself to the couch next to him, careful to avoid the spot that Philip had eaten through.

  “What are you doing, Cole?” she asked. “What is this really about?”

  He wasn’t sure which this she was referring to, but he suspected it had less to do with football and more to do with Hailey. He also knew that once Regina started in on this topic, it wouldn’t end well for either of them. They’d had their fair share of squabbles over the years—in their profession and with their family history, how could they not?—but the one thing they’d always avoided was giving each other relationship advice. If Regina thought his choice of supermodels in the past was somewhat questionable, she kept it to herself. When she’d had a one-night stand with a stranger and ended up pregnant with Mia, he’d tactfully refrained from reproach and thrown himself into helping raise his niece instead.

  “You’re veering on dangerous ground, Reg,” he said, surprised at the note in his voice. Even Philip seemed to pick up on it, his recognition of that tone causing his ears to come up and his stance to drop.

  “I’m just saying. Mom and Dad are starting to wonder. All this puppy stuff will be over in a few weeks, and then what?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that, just like he didn’t have an answer for what was going to happen when all this football stuff was over in a few weeks, either. At this point, all he could do was take one day, one hour, one minute at a time.

  In this particular minute, he was getting very tired of his sister.

  “Unless you have something other than sandwiches to contribute, I won’t keep you,” he said. “I don’t think they need you at the set today.”

  She didn’t take the hint.

  “It’s not a big deal, and it won’t take long,” she persisted. “You
can go with Hailey afterward. It’s just a follow-up X-ray, a few tests to make sure you’ll be recovered enough to play in the Kickoff Cup. Dr. Hampton is really optimistic about your chances.”

  The sandwich turned to dust in Cole’s mouth, and it wasn’t because of the kale. He tossed the entire thing to Philip, who lost no time in carrying his precious scrap to the farthest corner of the living room lest one of them decide to take it back. The food would probably slow the puppy down and make him useless in the game this afternoon, but Cole couldn’t find it in him to care. As if his team had ever had a chance against Hailey’s in the first place.

  He didn’t know the first thing about puppy football. All he knew was the human variety, for all the good that was going to do him now.

  “Knock-knock!” Hailey poked her head in the front door, a welcome distraction in a day—a week, a year—that was starting to look decidedly shitty.

  Cole could barely remember a time when he could look at her and find her merely cute. Those adorable freckles, the tinge of color on her cheeks, the worn red shoes—they weren’t the sort of qualities he’d sought in the past, but he’d have been damned if he could go without them now. When he’d been carried off the football field, knowing the tackle that had dislocated his shoulder was the end of the line for him, the only thing he could think of was that he wished Hailey were there with him.

  She was a comfort and a delight to his soul. She was sexually responsive in ways that most men only dreamed of. She represented a world where laughter and puppies and her no-nonsense practicality made everything else in his life feel like an overblown, ridiculous sham.

  He loved her.

  The thought struck like a blow almost as hard as the one that had felled him on the field. His head spun, and his chest contracted so tightly that he couldn’t speak right away. All he could do was watch as Hailey glanced back and forth between him and Regina, her cheeks starting to redden.