by Lucy Gilmore
Hailey swallowed. Public speaking had never been her forte for obvious reasons. Even if she wrote everything out ahead of time and practiced it painstakingly in front of the mirror, she would inevitably stammer and blush the moment all eyes were turned her way.
In this instance, she hadn’t written or practiced anything. The past week and a half had been a blur of puppies and filming and long hours at the editors’ desks. She’d gone to bed exhausted every night and woke far too early every morning, determined that work, at least, would go well.
Her personal life might be a disaster, but that wasn’t anything new. She also didn’t have any family here to support her big day, and no one would be waiting for her when she got home, but that wasn’t new, either.
She’d come into this world alone and would probably leave it that way, too. Some people were born lucky, and some weren’t. That was just the way the world worked, and if she’d thought for a few brief Cole-Bennett-fueled minutes that things could be different, that was on her.
“Um, first of all, I want to thank everyone for all their hard work these past few months,” she said, her voice sounding small even with the hush in the room. “I know it’s been—”
The doors to the restaurant whooshed open. She didn’t want to hope and really didn’t want to look, but the low murmur of surprise made it impossible for her to resist.
He’s here. He came. He…sent his mother?
“Oops, sorry.” Paula Bennett, decked out from head to toe in Lumberjacks teal, entered the room with all the confidence of a six-foot woman who had never felt the urge to make herself smaller. She waved a hand at Hailey, half in greeting and half in an effort to apologize. “Hello, dear. Ignore us. We’ll slide in the back. Pretend we’re not here.”
The request was a ridiculous one considering how much noise Paula’s arrival elicited. If she’d come alone, she might have gotten away with a discreet entrance, but she’d brought her entire family with her.
Well, most of her family.
Cole’s dad was beside her, wearing funereal black instead of his usual Lumberjacks jersey. Regina was there, too, doing her best to balance Mia and Nala at the same time. Hailey’s jaw dropped as she also recognized Cole’s grandmother tottering toward the open bar, the Wegmores, and even Sam and her wife with their two kids in tow. It was the entirety of Cole’s family, all of them large and noisy and beaming at her.
But not Cole.
“Go on, then,” Paula said when Hailey made no move to speak. “Get on with the speech. You won’t hear another peep out of us.”
“Peep!” Mia called as she managed to get out of her mother’s arms and make a mad dash toward the puppies in the corner.
I’m sorry, Regina mouthed. We’re the worst.
It was that last unspoken bit that finally dislodged Hailey from her stupor. These people weren’t the worst—not even close. They were noisy and unapologetically themselves. They lived and loved large. And for reasons she couldn’t even begin to understand, they were here to support her in her moment of glory.
Her heart, as soft and vulnerable and exposed as always, swelled.
This time, she let it.
“Now that we’re all here, I’d like to take a moment to thank everyone for all their hard work these past few months,” she said. Her voice started out wavering, her suddenly blurred eyes making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her face, but the Puppy Cup logo flashed on the screen, forcing her to focus. “Oops… It looks like I’m going to have to make this fast, so I will. Six years ago, I came on this project as a production assistant in hopes that I might make a small difference in the lives of a few puppies. Thanks to Cole Bennett, Jasmine Jones, and the entire Lumberjacks team, we’re expecting twenty million viewers this year. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the fruits of your hard work,” she called and, unable to help herself, “Go Lumberjacks!”
Everyone toasted to that, and Hailey found her glass filled several times as she pushed through the crowd to where Cole’s family had found an empty table. She’d had very little to eat for the past week, so she was understandably tipsy by the time she arrived. Her head swam, and she was vaguely aware of the vision of her and Cole squaring off over their puppies on the screen overhead, but that didn’t stop her.
At this point, she doubted anything could.
“You guys came,” she said, sniffling as Paula sprang to her feet and pulled her into a warm embrace. “That’s so nice of you. I’m sure you must have front-row Kickoff Cup tickets that are going to waste right now.”
“Box seats, actually,” Sam said, taking her turn embracing Hailey as soon as Paula was done. “But this is better. We didn’t want to miss your big moment.”
This was a complete and utter lie, but Hailey was too overwhelmed to do more than murmur a feeble protest.
“Cole told us that you probably wouldn’t have anyone here to support you, so we invited ourselves.” Sam’s wife wasn’t as effusive as the Bennetts-by-blood, but she did offer a smile and a warm handshake. “I hope you don’t mind.”
At the mention of Cole, Hailey stiffened. As if by tacit—or possibly well-rehearsed—agreement, no one had mentioned him.
“I don’t mind,” she said somewhat shyly. “It’s…nice to have people. It’s not something I’m used to.”
“Well, get used to it,” Julian grumbled. “If my wife has decided to take you under her wing, you can plan to be stuck there for a while. Breathe carefully.”
Hailey couldn’t help laughing as Cole’s dad took his turn greeting her. In addition to a black suit, he was wearing a black tie, a black shirt, and had even managed to find a black pocket square.
“He’s in mourning,” Regina said as she watched Hailey take it all in. “For the death of Cole’s career. He’s had every mirror in the house covered.”
“I guess he can always be a reality-television star,” Julian muttered as he watched his son cavorting on screen with his team of puppies. It had taken quite a bit of editing to make it appear like Cole had won—Hailey’s puppies had been far and away the clear winners in the footage—but they’d managed it. “What a triumph for us all.”
“Then he told you,” Hailey said, the wine making her feel giddy and indiscreet. Although that wasn’t fair to the wine… She was always indiscreet. “You know the truth.”
“We know,” Regina agreed. “And as you can tell, we’re all doing our best to cope.”
A giggle escaped before Hailey could help it. There was nothing funny about the things that had passed between her and Cole—even less about how hard it must have been for him to talk to his parents—but the fact that Julian was here, scowling up at the television while holding a beagle puppy who’d been decked out in a black sweater for the occasion, was too much.
“I’m sorry,” she managed. “You must be devastated.”
Julian looked as though he had something to say about that, but one glare from Paula had him clamping his lips shut. “We’re doing the best we can, given the circumstances,” Paula said. “But we didn’t come all this way to talk about Cole. We came to celebrate you. Tell me all about what happens next. Is it more puppies, or do you have a different project after this?”
Hailey had no idea how much any of the Bennetts or the Wegmores actually cared about her career, but they listened and asked questions and otherwise made her feel as though they were genuinely interested in what she had to say. It was such a new experience for her that she talked too much and too long, failing to notice when the Puppy Cup ended and the television switched back over to the Kickoff Cup. In fact, it wasn’t until Julian elbowed her that she realized the game had begun once again.
“That Marshall kid,” he said. “What do you think about his pre-snap cadence? It’s different, but I like the way it gives the offense its momentum.”
“She doesn’t want to talk about football, Julian,
” Paula said with a tsk.
“Of course she wants to talk football. What the hell else is she going to do for the next two hours?” Julian stabbed a finger at the television. “He’s good, right? I’ve been watching some of his college footage. He’s not as strong as Cole, and he’s uncertain of his place, but I like his energy. He wants it, you know?”
Hailey nodded her agreement. She hadn’t had much time to develop a firm opinion on Marshall’s game play yet, but this seemed as good a time as any to start. She settled into her seat to talk strategy and watch the game with Cole Bennett’s family—a strange cap to a strange day and an even stranger past five weeks.
The seven-point lead dwindled to a one-point lead as the game wore on, and tensions were understandably high. Most of the puppies and children were exhausted by this time, but the fans were holding strong, all eyes glued to the screen.
“Oh shoot!” Regina jumped from her seat and stabbed a finger at the clock. “Mom, look. It’s six thirty.”
“What happens at six thirty?” Hailey asked, slightly bewildered as Paula also got to her feet with a nervous start. “We booked this place until midnight. You don’t have to hurry away unless you have somewhere else to be.”
At the look that passed between Regina and her mother, Hailey blushed and added, “Oh dear. You have somewhere else to be, don’t you? And I’ve been keeping you all this time.”
It was just like her to monopolize someone else’s family for hours on end, to cling pathetically to the idea that she was the most important thing in the Bennetts’ life—and on Kickoff Cup day of all days.
“He’s probably jumped into the harbor by now,” Regina said, ignoring her.
“Or ripped all his beautiful hair out,” put in Sam.
“Nonsense. He’d never do anything to hurt his hair.”
This last one came from Cole’s mom, who grabbed Hailey by both hands and pulled her up. “I’m so sorry. We were supposed to tell you half an hour ago. Cole’s waiting for you out in his car.”
“What?” Hailey yanked her hands back as though they’d been touching fire rather than a kind woman’s palms. “He’s here? Now?”
“Well, unless he gave up in despair and drove off,” Regina admitted. “We warned him we couldn’t make any promises. Not after he pulled that ridiculous puppy stunt.”
“His heart was in the right place, poor boy.” Paula sighed. “He thought he needed to do something big. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s always been a bit of a drama queen.”
Hailey let out a squeak that was part laugh and part alarm and might have continued on in this vein if it weren’t for Cole’s dad. He took her by the arm and started to lead her toward the main doors of the restaurant. They had to maneuver around several puppies as they went, but he managed to make it seem like a completely normal occurrence.
“Don’t worry. He’s still out there,” Julian said and in a way that reminded her so much of her own dad that something in her heart gave a painful lurch. “I imagine he’ll be out there all night. You go on and talk to him if you want to, and if you don’t, then he can sit there forever for all I care.”
“He’s been waiting for me?” Hailey swallowed heavily and tried not to peer out into the mizzling Seattle darkness. “This whole time?”
“Not the whole time. We told him to give us until six or so, since we wanted to make sure you had yourself a nice party first.” He cast a satisfied look around the restaurant and nodded. “It was a nice party. Thank you for inviting us.”
“I didn’t invite you,” she pointed out.
“No, and I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you about that.” He leaned down—his large form so much like Cole’s, his movements just as assured and athletic—and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “You invite us next time, okay? And the time after that, and the time after that. We don’t care if you go out and make up with that useless son of ours, or if you kick him to the curb like he deserves, or if you forgive him and then decide you can do better in a week or two. We’re family now, Hailey Lincoln. You got that? There’s no one I’d rather watch football games with than you.”
She promptly burst into tears. It would have been very easy to take Julian’s offer as an old man’s kindness, as a good person saying what he could to make a lonely woman feel better, but she believed him. He meant every word.
“Well, now.” He appeared slightly startled. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”
It might not have been what he expected, but it was what he was going to get if he planned on keeping Hailey around.
“I always cry when I’m happy,” she said as she returned his kiss with one of her own. His cheek was rough under her lips and his scent slightly woodsy. Both of those things felt like coming home. “Then again, I always cry when I’m sad, too.”
“What do you do when the Lumberjacks win the Kickoff Cup?” he asked with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder. “There are only two minutes left. If you go out there now, you’re going to miss it.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to miss it,” she said as she steeled herself to head out the door. Every part of her might be quaking at the thought of seeing Cole again, and she was terrified lest he might no longer be waiting for her, but she could do it. She would do it. If he was willing to loan her his family on a day like today, to let her bask in their love and support when he could probably use some of it himself, it was the least she could do in return. “I’ll let you know about the tears later.”
* * *
He hadn’t driven his Lexus.
In true football-player style, he’d chosen something flashy and over-the-top instead—an attempt, she assumed, to make her feel even more unsteady than she already was.
“His Aston Martin,” she muttered, spotting the steel-gray sports car that he’d been seen shilling in commercials across the United States for the past year. “Of course he’d bring his Aston Martin.”
She was so annoyed by this that she marched across the street and yanked open the passenger door before he could make some kind of suave move to put her at further disadvantage.
“You have some nerve, coming to my party in a car like this,” she announced as she slid into the seat. The interior smelled strange, like too much cologne and not enough oxygen, which was what she blamed for how long it took her to glance at the man in the driver’s seat. “If you don’t know by now that I’m not impressed by flashy, vain, useless attempts to—”
She noticed with a start that the man in the driver’s seat was not Cole Bennett. He was relatively the same age and dressed in similar clothing, but his mustache and the fact that he weighed about half of what Cole did were dead giveaways.
“Oh God.” She gave a startled glance out the window, where a tall, well-built man in a black peacoat with the collar turned up was approaching them. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could detect a smirk through the expensively tinted glass. “I’m so sorry. I’m in the wrong car.”
“Flashy?” the man said, frowning so that the ends of his mustache drooped. “Vain?”
“It’s a lovely car,” she said quickly. The door pulled open and a much more pleasant scent—of rain and open fields, of the man she’d been obsessed with for the majority of her adult life—assailed her nostrils. “Very sleek. I’m sure it’s worth every penny.”
She didn’t wait to hear how her compliments were received. Taking the hand that was being held out to her, she allowed herself to be whisked out of the car and to the safe—if wet—sidewalk instead.
Cole didn’t release his grip on her hand, but he didn’t make a move to pull her into his arms, either. He just stood looking down at her. He was damp from head to toe, his hair curling in wet locks around his head and rain dripping from his nose. He looked gorgeous and cold and so good that her heart ached.
“Why aren’t you in your car?” she demanded. “You’ll fr
eeze to death out here.”
“I couldn’t sit still.” He pointed over his shoulder at where an understated black SUV stood parked. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d recognize my car. I should have known better. You have every single vehicle I own cataloged, don’t you?”
“It’s an obscene waste of money to own that many,” she said irritably. “Not to mention a drain on our ever-dwindling natural resources. You and that strange man should be ashamed of yourselves.”
Cole sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening. “God, I’ve missed you. Hailey—”
She pulled her hand away with a jerk. She wasn’t dressed for the weather, her skirt too short and her jacket too light, so she wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection. Cole noticed and immediately shrugged himself out of his coat. He dangled it from one finger the same way he had that day in the elevator, giving it a shake when she refused to take it.
“I won’t touch you,” he promised. “And if you want me to go, I will—no questions asked. It’s just… Can we…? Will you…? Please.”
She had no way of knowing what he was asking for, but it was impossible to ignore the desperation in that plea. Since it seemed important to him that she put on his coat, she did.
She knew it for the mistake it was almost immediately. The wool was heavy and expensive, soft with the warmth of his body. It was like being wrapped in his embrace.
“Thank you for sending your parents to my party,” she said, since she had to say something or risk catapulting herself into his arms. “That was nice of you. It felt good to have someone there.”
He gave a short laugh and ran a hand through his wet hair. “I had nothing to do with that.”
She blinked a question up at him.
“Should I have lied and taken credit?” he asked and immediately shook his head. “It wouldn’t have done any good. You’d know. You know me better than anyone.”