The Soccer Player and the Single Mom (Quail Hollow)

by Kyra Jacobs

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Then come kiss me.” So I can stop feeling self-conscious.

  He released her hands and lowered back onto his elbows, attention fixed on her lacy black bra. Okay, so maybe she’d planned ahead. Just in case. The wolfish look on his face said her gamble had paid off.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said, kissing his way slowly down the length of her neck. “We’re definitely going inside later.”

  She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation of his touch. “Because you don’t want Edna worrying we never made it back?”

  “No, because I’ve only got one condom on me.”

  “Only one?” That stopped her short. Felicity craned her neck to see his face. How many did the man think they’d need?

  Scott offered her a wicked grin. “It’s been a while for me, too.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Scott sat on the back porch Sunday afternoon, catching his breath after doing three reps of his arm routine. That was after the other three reps he’d done right after lunch, trying not to dwell on the fact that the temperature was a balmy eighty-two degrees, the sky was endlessly blue, the grass was crisp and dry…and he was stuck sitting with his leg elevated while the world went on around him without a second glance.

  Including Felicity.

  In all fairness, it was probably best for them both if she stayed on the other side of the yard, playing with Tyler. If she came too close, he’d be tempted to try sneaking her back upstairs so they could pick up where they left off last night. The woman had been nearly as insatiable as him. Not that he was complaining. She’d been self-conscious about her body at first, her stretch marks, her age—and it’d taken some coaxing on his part to help her see she had nothing to be ashamed of. When she hadn’t listened, he’d used his body to show her she was perfect just the way she was.

  And oh, how she’d responded to that.

  A slow grin stretched his lips at the thought of her, collapsing onto his chest after round two. They’d had to be quieter the second time, having snuck back to the house for another condom. But quieter had allowed them to take their time. Savor the sensations and explore one another, inch by glorious inch.

  Nope, not complaining. Not one little—

  “I don’t recall sunshine being on your list of restrictions.”

  Edna stepped onto the back porch and settled beside him on the wicker loveseat. She had a cane in her grasp, something she only used when the arthritis in her knees acted up. Lately, she seemed to be using it more and more.

  “You doing all right, Grandma?”

  “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Not like you to sit around moping. Usually you’re out there.” Her gaze shifted from him to the backyard shenanigans. Tyler had been trying to play fetch with Bruno, throwing sticks and balls. But the lazy little punk wouldn’t pick up the tossed items, just run over to them and yip. If Scott didn’t know any better, he’d say someone had spoiled her pet rotten.

  Oh, wait. He did know better. She had.

  “I’m not moping.”

  Edna answered with a snort but said no more.

  Felicity collected the thrown tennis balls and lobed them one by one back to Tyler. He fielded them like a pro, getting beneath the ball and opening his hands just so. But no mitt, which meant each catch was followed with a thwack and a small wince.

  The kid should have a mitt. Heck, every kid should have a mitt. His own mother had bought him his before kindergarten.

  “When did they switch the middle school location?” he asked, voice quiet.

  “A couple years ago. Lots of growth out here, with a big hospital expansion to the south. School board saw the writing on the wall, built a new elementary to make room for the growing middle grade classes.” Edna adjusted her grip on the cane. “Went over to Sparrow Street this week, did you?”

  He nodded, face still turned toward the boy in the yard. The one laughing and squealing with his mother, consumed with joy. That’d been him once, too.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Went all right,” he lied.

  “Did you tell her?”

  Felicity had enough on her plate—even with intentionally keeping his emotional distance this week, he knew that. A widow with a small kid and no long-term job? Yeah, the last thing she needed was to hear his sob story. “Nah.”

  “Of course not,” said his grandmother. “Might actually make you look human or something.”

  “I haven’t been that bad.” He glanced over to spy Edna’s cotton-ball brows rise in unison and frowned. “What, would you rather me be overly chummy and lead her on? That’d be super nice of me, wouldn’t it?”

  “Goodness, no, don’t be nice to anyone. Heaven forbid someone actually fall for you…or you fall for them.”

  He shifted his focus back to the yard. “Do we have to do this every time I come home?”

  “Seeing as you come home less and less and I still have zero great-grandbabies, I’m afraid so.”

  She paused, waiting for his gaze to find hers once more. But it didn’t. She sighed.

  “Losing someone you love, it’s awful. The worst. But it doesn’t mean spending the rest of your life avoiding getting close to anyone else for fear that they’ll leave you, too. Because that’s not living, Scott, it’s just existing.”

  Edna shifted forward, rocked a little, and used the momentum to get back onto her feet. She looked toward the mother-son duo in the backyard, a small smile tugging at her lips. They were both dashing for the same ball, Felicity clearly holding back to let Tyler win. Just like Scott’s mom used to do with him.

  “Just existing,” his grandmother murmured. “No matter how many damn trophies you put on the shelf. Now get out there and relieve Felicity of her playtime duties so she can come in here and help me with something.”

  “Help you with what?”

  “Nunya.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nunyabeeswax.”

  He threw his grandmother a flat look. She didn’t need help with anything, she was meddling. It’d taken her long enough. Heck, Felicity had been under their roof for five whole nights.

  “Grandma…”

  She grabbed his nearest crutch and held it out for him. End of discussion. He took it with a scowl, shifted forward in his seat…and heard the familiar jingle of his nearby cell phone.

  “Oh, shoot. I’ve got a call coming in.”

  Edna’s gaze raked the porch, but she was out of luck—the phone was on his far side. A good thing, too, with that look of evil intent on her face. Had it been closer, she’d probably have tried to stab it with her cane. He snatched the phone up and swiped to answer before she tried stabbing him instead.

  “Y’ello.”

  “You bailed on us last night, hermano.”

  Sawyer. He’d been expecting this call. What he hadn’t expected was Edna to thump him in the back of the head with her cane.

  “Ow!” He twisted in his seat to tell her to knock it off but found her shuffling to the door.

  “I’ll be a hundred and two before there’s any new blood in the Gillie line,” she muttered under her breath.

  Scott covered the mouthpiece on his phone. “Keep doing that and I’ll make it a hundred and three.”

  She answered with a slam of the door.

  “Scott?” Sawyer said. “Everything okay over there?”

  “Yep, just Edna.” He rubbed the sore spot on the back of his noggin. “And sorry about last night. Plans kinda changed.”

  A low whistle sounded. “Oh, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Can it, keeper. So what’s this deal you wanted to talk about?”

  “Actually, I was hoping we could discuss it over a few cervezas.”

  Scott groaned. “Please tell me you’re not selling vacuum cleaners out the back of your van again.”

  “Come on, man. That was una semana in college.”

  “What? It was a year after college, and y
ou did it for six months.”

  “To-may-to, to-mah-to. You free to get together or not?”

  “How far are you?”

  “About twenty miles north of town, not quite to Waterloo. You able to drive?”

  Salt to the wound. “No, not until Evan lifts my restrictions.”

  “Wait, you went to a pediatrician after you got hurt?” Laughter rang out on the call’s other end. “You know, you can get suckers in the candy aisle, man. Did he kiss your boo-boo better, too?”

  “No! I needed a second opin—” The laughter grew to howling. “You know what? Never mind. When you’re done being an ass, call me back, and maybe I’ll think about coming by.”

  “All right, all right, I’m done messing with you.” A soft snicker followed. “Look, Purdue Fort Wayne is holding their annual soccer festival on Friday, big college names coming, lots of the crew will be back in town. Come out, and I can fill you in then.”

  Friday. What did he have going on Friday?

  Ah, yes. Columbus was playing Seattle. Scott had planned to watch and hope his replacement took a cleat to the knee on his behalf, but a night out with the guys would be more fun. “Not sure I’ll still be in town then, but if I am, I’ll come.”

  “Bueno. I’ll stock up on suckers in case I see you.”

  “Jackass.”

  He disconnected at Sawyer’s renewed laughter and shook his head. Even with the razzing, hanging out with him yesterday made Scott realize just how much he missed the big oaf. He’d made plenty of friends throughout his career, but Sawyer remained one of his closest. Time was running out to see him on this trip, especially if Evan waived his restrictions tomorrow. Scott’s time in Quail Hollow was hopefully growing short.

  His gaze swept to Felicity, sitting with Tyler in her lap, and felt a tiny jab of regret. Not for what they’d done together last night, but because he’d soon be leaving her, too. A silly thought to have—he’d known going into this that nothing could develop between them. Only, for the first time since they’d met, he worried maybe it already had…

  Scott needed to get his head out of the clouds and back in the game. He had plans and priorities. Settling down wasn’t on that list for several more years. Soccer, soccer, and, time willing, a small number of social activities—that’s what his career allowed. Preferably activities that would keep him from breaking any hearts.

  Including his own.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Felicity sat beside Scott in Dr. Bedi’s waiting area on Monday morning, trying to answer Lauren’s barrage of incoming text messages. Hard to do, when Scott’s knee was bouncing a million miles a minute beside hers. But they needed answering because while Felicity sat here, Lauren was at home on the computer helping her apply for jobs.

  After modestly divulging about how it’d gone with Scott Saturday night—and answering a few hundred follow up questions about it—she’d spent yesterday morning game-planning with her cousin how and when to get serious about looking for her next job. J.B. had promised he’d give her at least two additional weeks’ worth of work after Scott left, but Felicity had been down this road before. Job searches took time. So did interviews, rejections, and more applications. To hold off any longer would be foolish.

  After backspacing for the dozenth time, she dropped the phone in her lap and conceded for now. “Breathe, Scott.”

  “I am.” His knee’s pace didn’t falter. “What’s taking so long, anyway?”

  “We’ve been here a grand total of”—she checked her phone—“eight minutes.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  She sighed. Clearly, the man didn’t spend much time in doctor’s offices. Heck, she’d gotten a cold last summer and spent almost an hour in the lobby at her family doctor’s, all so they could tell her it was a virus and she’d just have to let it run its course.

  “So patience is a virtue. It also keeps your blood pressure down. You don’t want Evan keeping you on restrictions any longer than necessary, do you?”

  His knee stopped. “No.”

  “Then, take a deep breath in, and let a slow breath out.”

  Scott shot her a look like she’d lost her mind. She probably had, seeing as she’d slept with a celebrity and since when did she live on the edge like that? Since now, apparently. And, hmm, wouldn’t they have the house to themselves for a few more hours? She offered him a sly grin.

  “If you do, I’ll reward you when we get home.”

  His lips quirked, and the dark look faded. Without further argument, he closed his eyes, drew a long breath in, then let it out on a long, soft hiss. The worry etched into his face began to fade.

  “Better?” she asked.

  He opened his eyes with a nod.

  “Good.”

  She patted his good knee and started to draw back, but he caught her hand. He didn’t say a word, just interlaced his fingers with hers. Felicity scanned the lobby, not wanting to start rumors in their small town, but all the adults nearby had their attention fixed on the electronics in their hands. So she stopped worrying and allowed herself to be content as Scott absentmindedly ran his thumb across the back of her wrist. This was the first time they’d touched since she’d slipped from his bed in the wee hours of yesterday morning, and unlike the last time, this one was purely innocent.

  Comfort. He was looking for comfort.

  Quite a turnaround from when they’d met in this very room a week ago, especially from how he’d nearly come unglued at learning J.B. had offered her a job as his assistant. It only reinforced the life lesson she’d learned long ago: you never knew what tomorrow would bring. Unfortunately, with Scott, she knew full well what one of these tomorrows would bring: a farewell. One that might come sooner as opposed to later, depending on what his friend Evan had to say.

  But leaving had always been the plan, and she wouldn’t dare suggest otherwise. Instead, she’d do her best as his PA and enjoy whatever time they spent together in the afterhours as well. An innocent fling, both liberating and rejuvenating. Nothing to get herself emotionally shipwrecked over.

  At least, that was her intent. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze to reinforce the thought.

  “Scott Gillie?”

  At the sound of his name, he released her to collect his nearby crutches. “Guess this is it.”

  “Dr. Bedi won’t steer you wrong,” she said. “Just keep an open mind and be nice.”

  “I know.” Scott rose with a frown. “And why does everyone keep telling me to be nice?”

  Felicity laughed. “Because we know how you can be. Now go on, I have work to do.”

  “Work to do,” he grumbled as he made his way toward the nurse. “I’ll show you work later.”

  She ignored him, knowing it was anxiety talking. Still, as she pulled the classifieds from her purse and unfolded them, she couldn’t help but watch those long, lean legs of his. Legs she hoped to see more of later, tangled with hers, before their adult fairy tale came to an end.

  Her phone beeped, and she pushed thoughts of sexy time with Scott aside to check it. Lauren again, with two more job opportunities. The first sounded wretched, the second moderately doable. None, of course, would be as fun as working with Scott.

  She chuckled. Less than a week ago, she thought the man might bludgeon her with his crutches. A handful of days ago, he was running her ragged all over the farmhouse for the perfect glass of water. Now she sat in the room where it all began, seeing how other jobs would measure up to working with her soccer celebrity.

  Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic” began playing in her mind.

  “Skip the first, apply for the second please,” she wrote to Lauren.

  “Okay. You know, I could always expand my search to Columbus.”

  Felicity stared at her phone. Her cousin had to be joking. She and Scott weren’t an item, they were a team. A very temporary team. He couldn’t possibly be thinking anything long-term when it came to her, and she knew better than to think that with him. Besides, there was no way
she would rip Tyler out of his school to relocate to a big city. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Not to mention they were due to take possession of their rental house next weekend.

  The rental house. In all the chaos of the last week, she’d nearly forgotten. There were utilities to call and movers to coordinate. Maybe it was time she got her head out of the clouds and back into real life before she dropped the ball on any of it…and it all started with getting a new job lined up.

  “Thanks, but let’s keep it local,” she wrote back. “I’ve waited too long to be your neighbor as it is.”

  …

  Once the nurse ran a few X-rays, she brought Scott into the same waiting room he’d been in the week prior to collect his height, weight, and blood pressure. Only this time, instead of walking in confident he’d be released sooner, he had no idea what today’s verdict would be. Heck, after being all sorts of wrong last week, he was almost afraid to wager a prediction. But he needed to get back on the field, needed to get his face in front of the fans again, in front of his manager, before someone decided they didn’t need him back.

  The nurse left, and dread clawed at him as the seconds ticked by. What if Evan wouldn’t release him yet? What would he do then? Sure, he was starting to enjoy himself more at Edna’s, all thanks to Felicity. The woman had a way of steering activities, deescalating tempers, and providing comic relief at all the right moments. And those were just a few of the things she excelled at with her clothes on.

  But soon she’d be gone, and he’d be gone, and things would go back to normal. Had to go back to normal if he wanted any chance of saving his career. Scott needed these restrictions lifted, and soon.

  He closed his eyes and took another deep breath—hey, it’d worked in the lobby, why not try it again in here? Long inhale, even longer exhale. If he could just go on a run, Scott could clear his cluttered mind in no time. He pictured where he would go, a route he’d done a hundred times before: start down Dovetail Lane, cut over to Baker Street, and do the mile loop around and back. Nice and easy. Heck, he’d make the loop twice if he still felt good…