Ruff and Tumble

by Lucy Gilmore

  The roar of appreciation that this commentary elicited caused Hailey to flame up. It also gave her the courage to keep going.

  “Johnson, you tend to show off too much when the kick is within field-goal range. Byrd, you can hold a point of attack better than anyone, but you have a blind spot when it comes to the middle line of scrimmage. And don’t even get me started on Juarez’s inability to defend a deep pass if he has to play close to the line.”

  None of the men seemed to take her criticism amiss. If anything, she seemed to grow in their estimation with each word. By the time she’d run out of things to say—and the breath with which to say them—the entire Lumberjacks team was laughing so much that she couldn’t help smiling with them.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you did ask.”

  “And that, guys, is exactly what I was talking about,” Cole said, drawing forward. He looked as though he wanted to take Hailey’s hand, but she was careful to keep herself out of his reach. She didn’t want him to touch her. She didn’t want to be charmed. He could do both of those things and cause all her defenses to crumble away in an instant, but she needed them.

  She had no way to fight him otherwise. No way to protect herself. No way to survive.

  “Well,” he said as though there was nothing else to say. “Where do you want us?”

  Hailey looked to Penny for support, but all her friend did was shrug. She looked even more lost than Hailey felt.

  “Us?” Hailey echoed. “I can’t film your whole team. You wouldn’t fit on the turf.”

  “Oh, they’re not here for the show,” Cole assured her. He turned to the men and added in a slightly louder tone, “The puppies in blue bandannas are mine. Hailey’s are in red. This little guy here is already spoken for, and I doubt Garrett will give up Cleopatra without a fight, but the rest are up for grabs. The more of you who adopt a puppy, the more our luck increases.”

  He lifted a brow at Hailey. “Unless you’ve started adopting them out already?”

  Understanding was beginning to dawn—and with it, an anger unlike any she’d felt before.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For the puppies to find good homes?” He gestured at his team members, who were starting to disperse in pursuit of the various animals running around the warehouse. “They won’t find better homes than these.”

  “You can’t bring a bunch of men in here and start handing out puppies. That’s not how any of this works.”

  Some of the confidence started leaking out of his expression. “They’ll go through all the regular channels, of course. Fill out the forms, pay the fees, whatever.” He tried for a grin, but it fell wide of its mark. “You once said that the puppies don’t do teams or competitions, either, but we’ve come this far without a hitch.”

  Without a hitch? Was he serious? She’d spent the past three nights sleeping on her floor because she couldn’t stomach the idea of lying in the bed or on the couch where they’d once shared so much. Philip spent all his waking and sleeping hours curled up next to Rufus by the front door, certain that Cole would walk through it any minute.

  Worst of all were the half-dozen messages on her phone from Cole’s parents. They were worried about her and how she was handling the press. Mia wanted a playdate with Rufus, if it wasn’t too inconvenient. They wanted to know if she could come over for dinner on Friday and were terribly sorry but the Wegmores would be there, so could she please bring some kind of French wine to shut them up?

  She’d finally called Paula back over that last one with a pathetic excuse about nonexistent preexisting plans—and even that had been a disaster. No sooner had Cole’s mom offered to reschedule the entire dinner for Saturday than Hailey had to feign a disconnection or risk sobbing the whole story into the phone.

  “You coward,” she said, the words shooting out before she could stop them.

  He started, obviously expecting a different response. “I don’t think you understand. The puppies will have homes now. Not temporary ones but real ones. Forever ones. I only brought the guys who were willing to go all the way in. Even Garrett says he’ll have a hard time giving Cleopatra back after this.”

  As if just remembering that Garrett wasn’t the only football player who had recently become a foster parent to a four-legged friend, Cole reached down and gave Philip a loving pat. “I was hoping he could come home with me today.” Quieter this time, he added, “I was hoping you both could.”

  “Coward,” she repeated, mostly for the strength it gave her. She wanted so badly to fall under his spell again, to let him lull her with his strength and his goodness and his wonderful, beautiful family, but she held herself firm. “I’m not going anywhere with you, and neither is Philip. In fact, none of these puppies are leaving this warehouse with anyone except their handlers, so you might as well call your team off.”

  “But…” He lifted his good hand toward her and dropped it again, devastation in every line of his bearing. “You love these puppies. Everything you do is for them.”

  “That’s because they’re all I have, remember?” she asked, hands on her hips. If his wince was any indication, her words hit home, but she wasn’t done. “I’m all alone in the world except for them. Or—wait—that wasn’t quite it, was it? I don’t have a family, but I also don’t have a real dog either. I can’t commit to one.”

  “You’re twisting my words,” Cole protested. “I know I said… I’m aware that I acted… Dammit, Hailey. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

  She knew he was, which was why her chest hurt so much. He was operating at peak Cole Bennett, swooping in with a grand gesture to make her heart go pitter-pat. He’d save her puppies. He’d save her show. He’d smile and get his way, and everything would fall exactly where he wanted it to.

  And it might work—for a little while, anyway—and they could even find some happiness together. But Hailey had learned a long time ago that big words and big gestures weren’t what made the most impact. She didn’t need a Kickoff Cup win or a huge puppy-adopting coup. She didn’t need a professional quarterback with million-dollar hands and a billion-dollar smile.

  Those things were nice, obviously, but more than that, she needed someone to sit patiently in front of a television with her, teaching her the rules of football because it was the only thing he could think of to bring her out of her shell. She needed someone to make her pancakes every Sunday morning—Lumberjacks-shaped or not—and talk to her about her day as though it were the most important thing in the world. She needed someone to hold her tight and kiss her forehead and tell her that she was worth being loved.

  Because she was worth being loved. She was.

  “Do you want to know the real reason why I don’t adopt any of the dogs I foster, Cole?” she asked, tears pricking at her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry at work—and with an audience of thirty pro football players, no less—but she was going to anyway. She always did. “Do you know why I’m so determined to see these little guys placed somewhere safe?”

  “Tell me,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  So she did.

  “You know that my dad died when I was nineteen, right?” She didn’t wait for him to nod. If she stopped, if she let the thick feeling of oppression in her throat take over, she’d never get the rest out. “Well, the part you don’t know is that he wasn’t my dad until I was twelve years old. Legally, he wasn’t my dad until I was thirteen, but we always celebrated the day he became my foster parent, not my legal guardian.”

  Cole’s look of surprise was very real—and all the more difficult to see because of it. “Hailey, I didn’t—”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “You didn’t know. I’m aware of that. No one does. It’s not something I talk about very often, but I’m telling you now. I never knew my birth parents. I entered the system bef
ore my first birthday and stayed there for twelve long years. I lived in foster homes and group homes, grew up alongside dozens of kids whose lives were just like mine. Sometimes, I liked where I lived. Other times, I didn’t. There was this one house, though, that I can remember from really early on. It was before I started school, so I must have been about Mia’s age at the time.”

  Cole winced, and Hailey could tell that the reference to his niece hit home.

  “Yeah. It’s a rough life for a kid that age. But that particular home was nice—really nice, and I thought for a while that I might get to stay there forever.” She shrugged. “But the mom, a doctor, got relocated to another state, so that was the end of it. I still think about them, though. How nice they were, how loving, and for no reason other than because it was the right thing to do. It’s one of the only memories I have of a woman hugging me. Can you believe that? People don’t really think about it, but that’s the one thing kids in the system miss the most. Touch. Hugs. Affection.”

  She really was crying now, and she was pretty sure that she was speaking loud enough for several of the people around them to overhear, but she didn’t care. She was tired of trying to be someone she wasn’t, of being ashamed of the emotions that rose—literally—to the surface. Penny seemed to like her for who she was. Jasmine, too. Not to mention her dad.

  If you want something, Hailstorm, go after it.

  Well, she was going to. She wanted to say this, so she would.

  “I went several years without feeling that again. My dad hugged me, and for a long time, it fixed something broken inside of me, but it wasn’t until I met your mother that another woman held me in her arms.” Drawing closer, she tilted her red, streaming face toward Cole’s. He was starting to look seriously alarmed, but that didn’t stop her. “She’s amazing, Cole. Your whole family is. In the short time I’ve known them, they’ve hugged me and accepted me and treated me like I was one of them. It doesn’t even occur to them to question their right to love and be loved. Just like it doesn’t occur to you to do the same.”

  “Hailey…”

  “No.” Anger was winning now, and in a big way. Her sad tears mixed with furious ones, but she made no move to dash them away. “You think I’m the lucky one, but you’re an idiot if you can’t see what you have. I get it—they push too hard and want too much, and letting them down feels like the end of the world—but I can guarantee that your mom will still open her arms to you. You get to keep hugging her, Cole. You get to keep being hugged. For all the thousands of children who will never have someone like her, who will never know that kind of love and affection, stop being such a stupid, selfish chickenshit and talk to her.”

  Philip was the first to break the silence that followed this outburst. He gave a small whine and pushed his head underneath Hailey’s hand, licking liberally at any part of her skin that he could reach. It was as if he, too, finally heard her—finally understood. As much as he might love Cole and long to be with him, he and Hailey were the same.

  “Er, if I might add a small caveat, it’d be best for us if you’d talk to her after we finish today’s filming.” Nelson drew forward with an apologetic grimace and a gesture at his wrist. The PA didn’t wear a watch, but his meaning was clear. “Sorry, Hailey, but we’re already way behind today.”

  She drew a deep breath and nodded, more grateful for this interruption than her tear-streaked cheeks might lead her coworkers to believe. She swiped at them with the back of her hand. “Of course. Try, if you can, to clear out the football players, although feel free to hand out the adoption forms if they’re serious. Cole, you’ll want to check in with hair and makeup first, but they probably won’t do much. The handlers will have your team ready for you on the sidelines, and we’ll aim for cameras rolling in…ten minutes?”

  She lifted a finger to her eye to check the state of her own makeup and was grateful to find that Penny’s permanent marker was holding fast. That woman deserved a bathtub of her own after this.

  “Ten,” she repeated with a nod. Cole had yet to move and was staring at her as though she’d pulled her still-beating heart out of her chest for him to inspect, but that was only to be expected. That was pretty much what had just happened.

  For once, however, she didn’t mind. Her public confession was embarrassing and unprofessional and exactly the sort of thing she always did.

  And she’d do it again in a fully visible heartbeat.

  “I’ll see you on the field, Mr. Bennett,” she said. “I hope you’re ready for this. Our adoring public awaits.”

  Chapter 19

  “Oh, for the love of everything.” Regina stared at Cole as though he wasn’t the brother she’d known and taken care of for thirty-two years—the brother she’d known and loved. “Have you lost your mind? What did I tell you about adopting Hailey’s puppies?”

  “Why are you yelling at me?” Cole lowered himself to the kitchen chair nearest him. A tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers were waiting there for him, but he reached for neither. Nothing could possibly hurt worse than the hole in his chest. “Did you not hear the part where I told you that she hates me?”

  “Of course she hates you. I hate you. What were you thinking, taking the entire team over there like that?”

  “She loves those puppies. I thought she’d be happy to see them all in good homes.”

  Regina threw up her hands. Her kitchen was always immaculate, thanks to the same fleet of cleaners who kept his home in such a good state, but she was attempting some kind of baking project, so flour was everywhere. “I said it from the start, but you didn’t listen. You never listen. Adopting that woman’s puppies won’t make her like you.”

  “That’s not helpful right now, Reg.”

  “Well, you asked my opinion. That’s my opinion.” She peered closer at the cookbook that was open on a stand in front of her. “What even is cream of tartar? Do you think I can skip it?”

  “Hell if I know.” Cole began toying with the glass of water. He’d come over here at his sister’s request—something about paperwork that needed to be signed—but he knew he wouldn’t be leaving here until he told her the truth.

  Hailey had been right about that. He was a coward and a chickenshit, and Regina deserved better. Hailey had been right about a lot of things, actually. She was the one who really deserved more.

  “What are you baking, anyway?” he asked. He was going to broach the subject of his shoulder—he was—but he needed a minute to compose himself first. “And why?”

  “I’m trying to make a lemon meringue pie, but none of this makes any sense. How can anything have this many eggs? And don’t they have to be cooked to be safe?”

  “Lemon meringue?” Cole ignored the bulk of his sister’s commentary. Forget the pie—this whole situation didn’t make sense. Regina didn’t cook. Regina never cooked. Especially not a complicated dessert he couldn’t recall ever eating before—but that happened to be a favorite of a certain wide receiver they both knew. “Reggie, who is this pie for?”

  “I knew I should have just bought one and changed the pan out.” She began searching through her cupboards in earnest—possibly in pursuit of the elusive cream of tartar but more likely to avoid looking at him. “This is what I get for trying to be creative.”

  “Reggie,” he repeated, louder this time. Mia was next door at their parents’ house, and Hailey had refused to let Philip come home with him, so he was at liberty to yell all he wanted. “Stop that and look at me. Are you making a pie for Garrett?”

  “I don’t think you want to start this game with me, Mister I-just-bribed-thirty-of-my-friends-to-try-and-win-a-woman-over. And failed.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” he demanded. “You’re making him pie. You love him.”

  She snorted and gave up on her search. “Is that what you think this is? A love pie?”

  “I didn’t consider trying that. Do
you think Hailey wants a pie?”

  Regina threw up her hands. “You are quite possibly the dumbest man I’ve ever known, and I know some really stupid men.”

  “So that’s a no on the pie?”

  She released a shaky laugh and sat at the table next to him. He was glad that he’d managed to break through this strange domestic bubble she’d wrapped herself in, but the speed with which she grew serious took him by surprise. So did the way she reached across the glossy surface to take his hands. Despite their light dusting of flour, her hands easily clasped his, and Cole couldn’t help remembering Hailey’s words.

  Regina thought nothing of reaching out and touching him. Physical affection was as natural to her as breathing. Even now—when she was obviously annoyed—it didn’t occur to her that there was anything great or odd about it.

  “I’m not dating Garrett, Cole,” she said. “I’m signing him.”

  Cole was still lingering over the memory of his conversation with Hailey—that earth-shattering, devastating conversation—so it took a moment for those words to sink in. “Signing him?” he echoed.

  “We wanted to tell you, but the negotiations to get out of his current management contract have been tough. We thought it would be best if we kept things quiet until we were sure.”

  “Signing him?” Cole echoed again. “As a client? You’re his manager?”

  He didn’t wait for Regina to answer before he burst into laughter. It was an unnatural laughter, full of surprise and incredulity and an overwhelming sensation of relief.

  Regina squeezed his hands. “It’s a good thing for all of us. It’ll mean I have less time for you, but you’ve said it yourself. With your shoulder the way it is, you’re eventually going to have to think about retiring, and—”

  At that, Cole only started to laugh harder. It wasn’t quite such a foreign sound the second time around.