by Ava Miles
He needed to be on the field. He needed to be with his teammates.
And she’d taken that away from him.
“It’s too bad he left the NFL in his prime,” a man’s voice nasally said from behind her.
When she turned around, she recognized Cormack Daly from Hairy’s Irish Pub. Was he here to see Blake’s coaching skills on display? Could Blake have invited him here?
“He’ll make a wonderful coach,” she said, taking the measure of the man. He was wearing a purple polo shirt, tan slacks, and white tennis shoes.
“Yeah, he would have. Too bad he’s not interested in coaching.”
Her eyes widened at the revelation. “He’s—”
“When Blake turned the job down a few weeks ago, I was livid. We had to hustle to find someone for the job. At first I thought the issue was that he didn’t want to commit to being in Dare Valley that long. No one in this town understands your unusual relationship.”
This guy was a total jerk. She’d sensed it before, but this confirmed it. “No one needs to understand it except for us.”
Cormack rolled his eyes at her. “Then I realized what a small pond this is for Blake. He could go anywhere. Based on what I’ve seen in the media, he’s been offered commentator jobs with most of the major networks and head coaching and assistant coaching positions around the country.”
While that didn’t surprise her, it made her feel even worse.
“I came today because I was hoping he’d suck at coaching.” He jingled the change in his pocket. “But he doesn’t, dammit.” He paused, and then said, “Do you know why I really think he turned us down?”
Blake aired out another pass, which Sam caught beautifully. “Why?”
“Clearly your ex-husband—or whatever he is to you—doesn’t have football out of his system. He’s not ready to take a step back.”
Hadn’t she just been thinking that? Part of her felt like she was sinking into a pit of sticky, cloying mud. It would be a crime for Blake to stay here when he was still this happy playing football.
“I’m going to head on home,” Cormack said. “You tell Blake we’re going to have a great season without him.”
The man’s bitterness did nothing to alter her inner turmoil. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Blake’s face as he and his team continued to score their way to victory.
“It’s wonderful to see Blake this happy again,” her mom said when she came and joined her.
“Yes,” she answered.
She wrapped her arms around herself, fearing she’d have to set him free.
Chapter 32
Blake was trying to focus on manning the grill and chatting with Zack, but he couldn’t stop watching Natalie as she played queen bee with his friends like old times. Jordan was making her laugh as he gestured widely about something, but there was a tightness to her shoulders now. The rest of her body language seemed off too.
Something had changed. Had the cameras and likely gossip gotten to her? Had it made her regret her decision to declare they were back together?
“I think you have her, Ace,” Zack said quietly beside him.
“God, I hope so,” he responded and turned back to poke at the steaks.
He overcooked the steaks because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the slight line between Natalie’s brows, portending trouble. The baked potatoes he’d stuck on the coals came out charred, but Natalie peeled off the burned skin and whipped them into a delicious makeshift potato salad. Fortunately, he couldn’t screw up bagged salad or the fabulous gelato medley his assistant had brought up from Amore Gelato in Denver.
And throughout all of it, Natalie wouldn’t sustain eye contact with him. His dread grew.
After dinner, everyone clustered around a Monopoly board. The few who did not play watched, and it came as a surprise to no one when Sam was crowned the victor. When Natalie started to clear the patio tables of the dishes from their meal, clearly in busy mode, Blake stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.
“You don’t have to clean up,” he said, rubbing the bare skin of her tense forearm, wanting so badly to snatch her up and haul her off to his bedroom to alleviate this gaping stiffness between them. Whatever the cause.
“I don’t mind helping you out,” she only answered, stacking the plates, not meeting his eyes again.
Maybe acting like everything was how it used to be—her hanging out with his friends—had made her anxious. Maybe he was over-thinking this.
“Thanks, babe.”
She gave him a half smile and wandered inside with a stack of dishes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Sam.
“Breathe,” his friend suggested.
“Right.” Oxygen. That little thing.
Some of the guys chipped in to help them clean up. When the patio was clear, Jordan wandered inside before coming back out with a bottle of tequila.
“Who wants some?” he said, wiggling the bottle
A couple of the guys groaned and held their heads. Jordan tipped the bottle in Natalie’s direction.
She shuddered. “Uh. No.”
“I’ll have a shot,” Blake said.
Everyone’s heads swung in his direction.
He shrugged. “It’s recently become my favorite drink.” He hoped she’d get the message.
Natalie’s cheeks only flushed. “Well, I should go if the party is finally getting started. It was great to see all of you. I’m sure…” She paused and wrung her hands. “I’m sure you’ll all have great seasons.”
She hadn’t planned to say that, but she’d obviously bitten back the words. She would only see the guys again if she and Blake permanently reconciled. So, he wasn’t being paranoid about this new batch of rigidity. What in the hell had happened?
Jordan smoothed over the awkwardness by pulling her into a bear hug and dipping her, a move he’d apparently learned with Grace, who loved to dance. The guys passed her around, giving her sloppy kisses or tickling her, helping to lighten the tension. When Natalie finally reached Sam, she didn’t move to hug him, and Blake stilled where he was standing.
Sam cocked a brow and simply opened his arms. “Come here, Hale.”
She leaned into him, like she wasn’t going to stay long, but Sam tucked her close. Then he bent his head to whisper something in her ear, and she nodded her head twice and stepped back. Her face seemed paler now, but when he gave his friend a look, Sam only smiled.
There were shadows flickering in Natalie’s eyes as he walked her to the edge of the porch.
“Well, I’ll…see you when you…” She trailed off like the words were too heavy on her tongue.
They hadn’t spent a night apart since he’d come back to her bed in her house, and the possibility of that happening now yawned between them. He saw her glance at the upper story of the house, as if she too were thinking about the fact that she’d never stayed over.
“I won’t be too late,” he made himself say, “if you’re okay with me coming over, I mean. Or you can take Touchdown.”
The dog was snoring on Logan’s lap as the man downed a tequila shot with Jordan. He looked tuckered out from a solid week of playing with the kids at camp.
“I’ll see you then,” she said and took a hesitant step like she was going to lean in and kiss him.
She stopped herself and spun around before he could grab her to him and plant one on her in front of his friends. Taking off his ball cap, he slapped it against his thigh as he watched her walk back toward the bridge.
When Jordan offered him a tequila shot, he took it without any resistance. Then they all hung out around the fire pit, talking about football. After the earlier elation of playing—even something as simple as a pick-up football game—he was starting to feel a bit like an outsider again, but then Sam cleared his throat, and Jordan immediately launched into how awesome the camp was and how he couldn’t wait to do it again next year. Everyone joined in, and while it eased some of Blake’s tension, he still had to crack h
is neck to get it to move right.
When he rose to leave, he put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “I’m going to turn in.”
The guys stopped talking and turned to look at him.
“I…oh crap…I’m going to get emotional here.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Having you guys here for the camp this week meant the world to me. I’ll…never forget it.”
Hunter reached out and gripped his hand. “We’re here for you, Ace. Any time you need us. That’s what our Once Upon A Dare Club is.”
“Like I said earlier, camp was awesome, Ace,” Grant said. “I feel like Brad Pitt in that movie, you know, the one where he goes to Tibet and comes home inspired.”
“Your butt is way too big to be compared to Brad Pitt’s,” Jordan said with a smirk.
Hunter threw an empty plastic cup at the quarterback, who caught it deftly. “Blake, count me in every year. The kids are awesome, and I learned a whole bunch about what it means to be a true player. I…shit…now I’m getting emotional. I thought I played from my heart, but these kids…they showed me something. Thanks for inviting me, man.”
Ah, hell. He knuckled away tears and saw a few of the guys do the same.
“We’re having a moment,” Zack said with a laugh. “I know we’re not supposed to say anything about your future, but you’re a damn good coach, Blake. I’d be proud to play on your team.”
Shit. Now it was like they were trying to make him cry.
“Yeah, if you were like fourteen again, Zack Sprat,” Jordan teased to lighten the moment.
Everyone started laughing, and it eased some of the pressure in Blake’s chest. Coaching had become clearer during camp. He was good at it. Sure, he had a lot to learn, but he loved running drills, helping players, coaching them through scrimmages, watching them grin when something he’d taught them finally clicked. It was another option—one of many he planned to consider now that camp was over.
“I think you might have found your next calling,” Sam said quietly when the laughter died down. “Not that I’m surprised. I always knew you were one hell of a leader.”
“Then again, I saw that guy from Special Olympics watching you like you were the second coming or something,” Logan said. “I have a feeling all you need to do is figure out what you want and ask for it.”
“I can’t see anyone not giving you exactly what you ask for, Blake,” Jordan said.
“Funny. Someone told me the same thing a few weeks ago.” He knuckled away more tears as he glanced at Sam. “Hell, I’m going to have to find a box of tissues before I head over to Natalie’s,” he said as a joke, but it stuck in his throat.
Head over to Natalie’s. Tonight that statement seemed like more evidence of their lingering separation. Separate homes. Separate lives.
“Then go find them and head on over,” Zack said. “You don’t keep a woman like that waiting.”
“Like you’d know, Zack Sprat,” Hunter cajoled.
“Up yours, Hunter Punter,” Zack shot back.
Blake man-hugged all the guys, promising to catch a few of their games once the season started. It would be hard to sit on the sidelines, but it was something he would have to face. He loved the sport too much to shut it out of his life, and these guys were his best friends. He’d be there to cheer them on like they had always done for him. Unless they were playing the Denver Raiders.
When he walked across the bridge with Touchdown, he stopped and traced one of the infinity circles engraved in the wood, thinking about everything that had brought him to this place, this moment. He crept into the house with Touchdown, who immediately padded over to his doggie bed.
“Night, buddy.”
Natalie had left a few lamps on like usual. He turned them off like he always did, shutting the house down. After turning up the air conditioner to the temperature they both preferred at night, he headed into her bedroom.
She was reading on her device in bed, her knees tucked up. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, his mind filled with all the things unsaid between them. “I wanted to thank you…for coming today.” He shrugged out of his shirt by his side of the bed. “It meant a lot to me.”
She set her device aside after turning it off. “I’m glad I did. You…I wasn’t particularly eloquent earlier.”
Eloquent? When had she ever used big words with him? He threw his shirt aside, not caring if he was making a mess. “Babe, talk to me.”
Her inhale was loud and harsh in the room. “You were incredible. I was…so proud of you. Adam would be too. And your parents.”
He had to swallow the lump in his throat. His parents hadn’t asked to come, intuiting that he needed to do this on his own. Plus, there had been Natalie to consider. It would have felt awkward for them to stay at his house with her next door. He knew she would have felt obligated to come over, and since she’d wanted to keep her family out of their relationship for the moment, he’d figured it would be best for him to do the same. Maybe next year…
“I sent my folks a lot of texts to keep them updated,” he told her, pushing his shorts down his legs and kicking free of them.
Her gaze dropped to her hands, and he could feel it. She wasn’t in the mood to make love either. If only he knew why.
“I’m going to shower,” he said and fled to the bathroom.
Usually he showered at his place unless they showered together. He used her shampoo and conditioner like usual. Her soap. Even the toothbrush he used from the guest stash she kept under the sink seemed to highlight all the ways in which they were still separate.
His heart was heavy when he climbed into bed beside her. It had elated him to see her stride across the field to him earlier that day. But now he felt as deflated as a leaky party balloon.
Her lamp was already off. Usually they kept the ones by the bed on as they made love. They loved to look at each other, to deepen their connection by staring into each other’s eyes while they were joined. He reached over to switch his lamp off too.
All the other nights he’d stayed over, they’d made love, but tension seemed to pour into the room like sand. He didn’t take her into his arms, unsure of how she’d react. He could feel how rigid she was on her side of the bed. She didn’t cuddle close. They both lay there on their backs, their hands folded over their chests. The two feet between them might have been a thousand miles.
The silence lengthened. He knew every shade of her breath, so he could tell she was as awake as he was. The disquiet in him grew until the pressure in his chest, as powerful as Jordan’s boa constrictor, squeezed the words out of him.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked in a level tone that was at odds with the pounding of his heart.
She didn’t respond right away. Only pulled the sheet higher over her chest. “You’d be a great coach. I could see that today.”
As a response, it was totally unsatisfying, like lukewarm bathwater on a cold day. He turned onto his side to face her.
“Okay… Why do I get the sense that’s not a good thing?” he asked, his eyes making out the shape of her face in the dark.
She sighed and turned to look at him. “You miss football.”
He wanted to inch closer to her or take her hand. “Of course I do.”
“Blake, I know the high school offered you a coaching position and you turned it down.”
He’d been right to think Cormack wouldn’t keep his mouth shut. “It wasn’t right for me.”
“You can’t stay here indefinitely, putting off your life. There’s nothing for you here career-wise. Football is your passion. It’s what you were meant to do. I can’t bear…to be the reason you’re not playing ball when you clearly still love it so much. You have a few more years left to give to the sport.”
Were they back to this? “Dammit, I left football to prove to you that you were more important.”
“And now I know it. But you’re too important to me for me to let you do something that’s not satisfy
ing for you.”
That eased some of his distress. “Natalie—”
“What’s supposed to happen next? You’re just supposed to live in this small town with nothing to do?”
“I have been doing things. I’ve been preparing for this camp, and I’ve been consulting with Special Olympics.” Her prickliness grated on his skin. “I plan on fashioning the kind of job I want here once I decide what that is.”
“But there’s no football here, Blake. Not beyond high school, and you turned that job down. Maybe you really do want to leave, but you haven’t been willing to admit that to yourself. Aren’t all the offers you’ve received somewhere else?” she asked, the strain in her voice evident.
His sigh was audible in the dark. “Yes, they are. And I don’t have some unconscious agenda here about leaving. Let me say it again. I want to stay with you in Dare Valley, and I will find something I love to do here.”
She punched her pillow before lying back down. “So, you’re going to what? Commute long-distance?”
“No. I’m going to find a way to be with you and have football somehow. How many times do I have to say it? I just haven’t figured that last part out yet. Now that camp is over, it’s my number one priority besides you. That means I’m staying here. That this will be my home—of sorts. I…dammit…I don’t want to sound all cool and collected about this. I’m not.”
Her hand gripped the sheet to her chest. “Maybe you shouldn’t insist on the job being in Dare Valley. It only limits you and your career, and I want you to be happy. I saw how you looked out there today. It makes me feel guilty. You can’t know how much.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“Babe, I love you,” he said, his voice harsh with emotion now. “I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to make a home with you again. Don’t feel guilty. I don’t regret leaving it.” And it was mostly true.