“The after-school babysitter dropped us off today, but it’s supposed to be my mom picking us up,” Liam explains. “Since she didn’t answer the phone, though, I’m guessing she’s stuck at work.” Unconcerned, he plucks another blade of grass to add to the pile he’s already accumulated beside his thigh.
When practice had ended and all the other parents had left with their kids, Cooper and Liam were the last men standing. I volunteered to stay with them so Mike and Evan could get home. After a few minutes waiting to see if she was just running late, we’d called Michelle and got sent straight to voicemail. Then we’d tried Allyson, both her cell and her work line, where I talked to a lady named Debra who’d worriedly said that Allyson was in a closed-door meeting. After reassurances that I was fine hanging out with the boys until someone got here, her appreciation had bordered on overwhelming.
I bump Liam’s shoulder, having learned my lesson to keep my hands off their sweaty grossness. “What’s your mom do again?”
“She’s a nurse at the hospital. She works twelve-hour shifts a few days a week in the operating room so she can be home with me most of the time. When she’s not, that’s where Ms. Allyson tags in.” Liam holds his hand up and Cooper slaps a high-five to his palm, not giving a single shit about the dirt they’re smearing between them.
“Tag!” Cooper says a little too loudly in the quiet evening air. “Mom works days at Mr. Rick’s law firm, so Liam gets to stay with us when his mom’s working overnight or when his dad’s home. They call it ‘village parenting’.” Cooper’s voice says he’s heard that saying more than a time or two.
Liam picks back up. “My dad does sales and travels all the time, so it’s usually just me and Mom. And then we he comes home, they take a night to ‘date’ and then we all hang out as a family.”
Even in the dark, I can see the flash of the boys’ white-toothed grins, and they giggle as they make kissy noises and both say, “Date! Ewww!”
I chuckle along, acting offended. “What? Old people can date.”
Cooper groans. “We know that means sex, Coach B. Gross.”
“Oh, uh . . .” I stammer, not sure what to say to that. I mean, he’s not wrong, at least about ‘date’ being code for sex, but it’s definitely not gross. Knowing this is definitely not my place to add any details to their discussion, I stick with as little as I can say as possible. “You might feel differently about that when you’re older.”
Liam gives Cooper’s shoulder a friendly shove. “At least your parents aren’t having s-e-x every time they see each other while you go on sleepovers at my house.” They giggle again, wrestling around a bit.
“So, what about your dad, Cooper?” The words blurt out before I can stop them. Part of me is desperate to hear his answer. The other part wants to shove my big paws over his mouth to stop him from saying a word. I don’t want to cause him pain if it’s a hard story, but my curiosity overrides my reticence when he doesn’t burst into tears or show any real emotion.
“I don’t remember him. And Mom doesn’t talk about him. Ever.” His complete lack of emotion is suddenly more telling than if he were upset. He’s swallowing a lot, keeping it bottled way down deep. It takes one to recognize one, and I’ve definitely been accused of being a stoic robot a time or two.
Problem with that is, it’s gonna come out one way or another eventually.
I grind my teeth together as I try to figure out what to say. A boy and his father is a special bond, one Cooper’s missing. Allyson can do, and is doing, so much for this adorable pipsqueak, but he needs someone to show him how to be a man. Silently, I vow to do as much as I can over the course of the season as his coach.
I lean my elbows on my bent knees. “My dad was different from both of yours, but I guess that’s true of everyone. No mom, no dad, no girl, and no boy is exactly the same. That’s what makes the world go ’round.”
I hope I sound wise and sage, not like I’m pulling shit outta my ass, which is closer to the truth.
Cooper looks over at me, eyes wide with curiosity. “What was your dad like? And your mom?”
So many answers to such simple questions. I swallow thickly, knowing that I can’t tell them the whole truth. No kid needs those seeds planted in their heads. “When I was about the age you two are, my parents were pretty great. I have two brothers and a sister too, and my family owned a farm. We all worked together, and it was pretty awesome. I’d get up in the morning and do chores—”
They groan. “Ugh, chores are the worst!”
“They were the worst, or at least I thought so at the time,” I agree. “Looking back, though, it wasn’t so bad. I took care of some of the animals and did a whole lotta work in the fields. Less when I was younger.” I hold my hand up, palm down, measuring about how tall I was back then. “And then more as I got older.” I move my palm to the top of my head, measuring myself now. “That’s my non-coaching job still. Work in the fields every day, just like my dad taught me.”
Liam puts one and one together. “Is that how you got the peaches for practice?”
Smart kid. “Yep, picked them myself for the team. Guess I like you guys a little bit.” I hold my finger and thumb up an inch apart but move them further and further until my hand is stretched wide.
Cooper laughs, bubbly and light, and I feel like he needs that. Especially as he says, “A mom and dad, brothers and sister, and a farm? It sounds like a Disney movie!” There’s a brightness to the words, but I’m pretty sure there’s a hint of jealousy hiding underneath.
I can’t stop the bitter laugh that barks its way past my lips. “It definitely was not that picturesque. My mom and dad loved each other a lot, and I’ve got some great memories from when I was a kid. Later was a different story.”
Any reasonable adult would hear the silent request to leave the topic alone, but eight-year-old boys have basically zero social skills. “You don’t like them now?” Cooper asks with his eyes narrowed like he can’t imagine not liking Allyson.
“Well, they’re gone now. Both of them passed away, and we sold our farm to the neighbors. But now, it’s like I’ve got an even bigger family of brothers and sisters.” I’m trying to make it sound like one of their big sleepover parties, but the truth is, it’s been a hard adjustment for us all. But we’re doing better now, with minimal authentic threats of loss of life and limb over the evening dinner table.
I keep a close eye on Cooper, gauging his reaction as I say my parents have passed. I’m still not sure what exactly is going on there, and even though it’s really none of my business, I have a burning need deep inside to know everything there is to know about Allyson. And this seems like it’s a big piece of what’s turned her into the she-devil she seems to be now.
Cooper blinks a couple of times, long, dark lashes covering his pale blue eyes, and I’m afraid he’s about to cry, but mostly, he seems to be processing what I just shared. He doesn’t seem upset or sad, like he’s having feelings about his own dad at all.
Before I can ask any follow-up questions, a car pulls into the parking lot going too fast. The headlights flash over us, blinding us for a moment. “Bet that’s one of your moms.” As the words leave my mouth, another car comes peeling into the lot. From here and half-blind, I can’t tell what kind of cars they are.
I hear doors slam and feminine voices apologizing. “Oh, my God, I am so sorry!”
“No, I’m sorry! I was stuck in a meeting.”
“I was stuck in the OR!”
I grin at the boys. “Double-shot of mom. Come on, guys.” We all get up and start to walk across the field. I can see Michelle in scrubs and a messy ponytail and Allyson in another skirt and heels combo, both running this way looking harried.
Cooper puts a hand on Liam’s arm and looks back at me. “Hey, Coach B?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t get mad, but you gotta take advantage when you can, ‘kay?” Cooper’s teeth flash again, and Liam chuckles but covers his mouth with his hands.
“Mom? Mom! I thought you weren’t coming back!” He’s suddenly totally hysterical, and I have a heart-stopping moment where I think he was putting on a brave face for me.
Liam joins in the chorus. “Yeah, Mom. I thought you forgot me.” He sounds on the verge of tears.
Allyson and Michelle coo and pet the stinky boys, promising dinner with cookies and apologies.
I realize what these monsters are up to. They are absolutely, one hundred percent playing their mothers for treats. The laughter bursts forth in a tidal wave and both women shoot glares at me.
“Thank you for staying with them,” Allyson says coldly, though her eyes could burn me to ash where I stand.
I cross my arms over my chest, leveling a gaze at Cooper and Liam. They shrink under the weight of my deep frown.
“Boys, why don’t you tell your mothers what we’ve been up to while they were working so hard and worrying so much that they rushed over here to get you?” My tone broaches no argument, and their tears dry instantly, their fake drama dissipating like cotton candy in water.
“We fed the ducks,” Liam says, his eyes on the grass.
“We sat around and talked,” Cooper says.
“No muss, no fuss,” I add. “They were fine until they saw an opportunity for cookies and took advantage.”
Cooper and Liam, suitably chastised, look to their mothers with real tears in their eyes now. “Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Mrs. Michelle,” Cooper says, and Liam echoes the sentiment to his mom and Allyson.
I glance back to Allyson, not expecting an apology for her obviously frosty appreciation when she arrived, but she offers one anyway. It’s with her eyes, not her mouth, but I understand it just the same.
In the lengthening moment, the air between us thickens, heating with possibility even though there’s an undercurrent of distrust.
She looks good, the skirt hugging her hips and her shapely legs tapering down to the sexy heels that would feel great digging into my ass as I buried myself in her. But it’s the swirling confusion I can see in her eyes that calls to me the most. She sets me off-kilter, but I do the same to her. And damned if I don’t want to explore that, delve deeper into it and know what’s running through that mind of hers.
Which makes me furious . . . at myself, at her.
Michelle’s eyes bounce between Allyson and me. “Look, I know you two have some stuff to talk about. Let me take the boys home and feed them dinner . . . with no cookies.” She raises a brow at Liam before looking back to me pointedly. “Go to dinner. I hear Hank’s even has two-dollar drafts tonight. Talk about old times, talk about life and love and whatever else comes up.”
“Michelle!” Allyson hisses. “No, I’ll just take Cooper home.”
Michelle’s scowl deepens, her eyes screaming at me to man up and take advantage of the opportunity she’s presenting on a golden platter. I’m not sure I want it, but I can’t pass it by, either.
“I need to eat before heading home anyway,” I grumble. “I missed Mama Louise’s dinner waiting around with these guys.” I hold up a fist and Cooper pounds it, then Liam follows. They’re smiling now, though it’s cautious. “So, what do you say, Al?”
The nickname slips out again, but it feels comfortable on my tongue so I don’t correct myself. I can hear her breath pause, though, and I know it hit her too.
Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times as she looks between me and Michelle and then down to Cooper. Finally, her spine straightens and she says tightly, “That sounds great, I guess. Let’s get a beer and some dinner.”
One side of my mouth quirks up in what passes as a triumphant smile. I know I probably look like a cocky shit, but I don’t give a fuck. Dinner, a beer, and Allyson. Once upon a time, it was all I ever wanted.
Somewhere, I hear a little voice reminding me to avoid her, but I squash it down forcibly. It’s just food, nothing more. Or maybe I’ll figure out what the fuck’s up with her so we can ‘be adults’ as she wants? Or maybe I’ll fuck her in the parking lot? The possibilities are endless and unexpected, something I usually hate. I like knowing what people are going to say and do even before they do, but I can’t get a read on Allyson. Damn infuriating is what she is.
I guide her toward the parking lot, my hand grazing along the small of her back. She heads to her car, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at Hank’s?”
I nod, not sure what I’ve gotten myself into.
In the quiet parking lot, Cooper’s voice sounds as loud as gunfire as he asks a question that makes my heart stop. “Coach B? Are you taking my mom on a date?”
Allyson’s jaw drops, and I shake my head subtly at her, telling her I’ve got this because she does not know the minefield she’s walking in to.
“No, buddy. Just dinner between old friends. No dating or dating.” Michelle and Allyson both look confused, but Cooper and Liam giggle before running for Michelle’s sedan.
“I’ll get the boys to school in the morning. Have a good night,” Michelle virtually sing-songs, making me wonder just how much Allyson has told her about our past. Or if she’s in the habit of pawning her friend off for God knows what with random guys. Not that I think Allyson’s into that.
Hell, I have no idea what Allyson’s into now. But I sure as fuck want to find out.
Michelle gets the boys loaded and pulls out, leaving Allyson and me alone in the now-dark parking lot. The moon shines down on us, and I can’t decide if she’s going to back out or go through with the dinner plans.
This is the opposite of what I want, I try to tell myself, willing ice through my veins. But it sounds like a distant echo through the thrumming of my racing heartbeat.
Drawn to her even as I fight it, I brush a lock of her soft blonde hair back, slipping it behind her ear. It feels natural but oddly unfamiliar at the same time. My voice is gravelly as I give her an out I’m only half-praying she doesn’t take. “We can just skip it if you’re not up to it.”
She licks her lips, and I steel myself, not allowing myself to imagine chasing her tongue the way I’d love to. I grind my teeth, awaiting her verdict.
“No, dinner sounds . . .” she says, her voice a bit breathy. She shakes her head and my stomach drops, knowing she’s going to bail. “It sounds good. Let’s do it.”
Well, shit. I wasn’t expecting that.
Coach football. Avoid Allyson.
Fuck that. Or maybe fuck her?
Shit, I’m in so much damn trouble here, mad at the old Allyson and intrigued by the new one.
Chapter 9
Bruce
Chewing up the last bits of the post-practice cinnamon mint I popped on the way over, I look around. Hank’s is hopping for a Thursday night. It’s mostly a hole in the wall dive bar, but for locals, there’s nothing better than its worn pleather, greasy food, and overpoured drinks. There’s a whole bunch of people in the back, hovering around the three pool tables, more than a few folks on the wood floor dancing around to the twang of a Luke Bryan tune, and another group crowded around the bar.
“Uh, do you see a table?” Allyson asks. It sounds like she’s hoping there’s not one and we can just call this a bust and cut the night short.
But now that we’re here, I want to be. I have so many questions, so many answers I need, so much I want to know about everything that’s happened since I last saw Allyson.
Something tells me that’s a long story that would answer so much about who she is, and I want every little juicy morsel of it. Not to revel in whatever has turned her into this shadow self that runs hot and cold, but because once upon a time, she was the person I knew best, and it stings that maybe I don’t know her at all now.
I grab her hand, tiny in my huge paw, ignoring the tingles that shoot up my arm to drag her through the crowd. In the back corner, there’s a table that no one likes because it’s a little too close to the kitchen. It’s empty, j
ust as I hoped. I hold an arm out, gesturing for her to sit. I’m an asshole, but I’m a gentleman too. She sits and I follow, plopping down across from her. But the table’s a bit small and my knees bump Allyson’s.
“Ow!” she cries out.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumble, moving my chair a bit, which puts me closer to her side.
Her smile is small. “I forgot how big you are.” Her cheeks flush hot instantly as she hears her own words and filthy, dirty thoughts run through my mind. Dozens of ideas of ways to make that pink tint spread over her entire body as I remind her just how large I am . . . everywhere.
“Ouch, you know how to hurt a guy’s feelings,” I joke instead, keeping it light.
She bites her lip, looking down and fidgeting with the edge of the paper placemat that proclaims Hank’s as The Best Honkytonk In Town. Nobody is willing to remind Hank that he’s the only honkytonk in town.
She doesn’t respond to my teasing and I think maybe I overstepped, but I’m not sure how to handle this clusterfuck.
The waitress stops by, and we order two beers and two specials. When she leaves with a promise of being ‘back in a jiffy with the beers’, silence descends.
It was always easy with Allyson. Words flowed and even quiet times were comfortable. I remember spending hours in the bed of my truck, staring at the stars in relaxed silence, and listening to her talk non-stop about anything and everything. Her after-school chatter session was the favorite part of my day.
“Oh, my God, Mrs. Finley is such a bitch! She knows it’s championship weekend, but she still gave us a huge project that’s due on Monday! Monday! Like we’re going to have any time this weekend at all. She’s basically anti-school spirit.”
I watch her mouth, mesmerized by the way her lips form the sounds that are washing over me. This girl could read the damn phonebook and I’d happily listen.
“Bruce! Are you even listening to me?” Fire fills her eyes as she calls me out for what she thinks is my dismissal of her rant.
Rough Love Page 8