Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance

by Melanie Harlow

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll text you the names of a couple pet adoption places.”

  “Thanks.”

  I unlocked the door. “Night.”

  “Night.”

  It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs that I realized we hadn’t said our usual parting lines to each other. I stopped and waited, expecting him to knock again so he could tell me he didn’t love me.

  But the house stayed silent.

  Nineteen

  Dex

  I raised my arm to knock on the door like I had last night, ready to make the joke again—tell her I didn’t love her.

  But I couldn’t do it.

  After what she’d told me tonight, I couldn’t do it. Lowering my hand, I stepped off her porch.

  She didn’t need to hear those words tonight, not even as a joke. She’d trusted me with something fragile, and I didn’t want to trample on it. In fact, it was the opposite. I felt even more protective of her than I had before.

  Back at home, I stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water. As I drank it, I thought about Winnie being abandoned by her mom so young, about my daughters being shuttled back and forth between their parents, about my own youth spent watching my dad be a husband and father only when he felt like it.

  Fuck, did anyone survive childhood without wounds?

  Upstairs, I crawled back into bed and caught the scent of Winnie’s coconut shampoo. Turning onto my side, I grabbed the pillow she’d used and buried my face in it, inhaling deeply. My entire body warmed, and I wished she was still next to me.

  But part of me knew it was a good thing she wasn’t.

  I didn’t want to get used to her. She wasn’t mine to protect.

  The following day, while I was driving home from the grocery store, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. I let it go to voicemail and listened to the message once I pulled into the garage.

  “Hey Dex, this is Tyler Shaw. I wanted to reach out to you because Chip mentioned that you might be looking for an extra gig, and I could use another conditioning coach at Bayside Sports. It’s mostly baseball training for high school kids in the off-season, but I think a lot of these guys would think it was pretty badass to be coached by a Navy SEAL, and who knows? Maybe you’d find the Navy some new recruits. Anyway, give me a call if you’re interested. Thanks.”

  I dialed him back right away. The job sounded great—I enjoyed physical training, and it would be cool to work with high school kids. The extra income would be welcome too.

  And the distraction from Winnie.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Coach.”

  Tyler laughed. “Matthews, I haven’t been your coach in what, sixteen years?”

  I grinned. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still Coach to me.”

  “You get my message?”

  “I did, and I’m really interested, but I’m not certified or anything.”

  “That’s okay. You’ll be covered by the facility’s insurance policy, and I’m just looking for someone that can work on endurance, strength, and mental mettle. I remember that being your superpower as a baseball player, and I figure you probably got a lot of that in your SEAL training.”

  “Uh. Yeah.” I shook my head at the memories of grinder PT. “I can put them through hell if you want.”

  He laughed. “Just put their attitudes in check and make them better athletes.”

  “I think I can do that. My only hesitation is my availability.” I told him about my twenty-four-hours on, seventy-two-hours off schedule at the station. “I have my daughters during those seventy-two hours off every other week, so the days are always shifting around. But I wouldn’t be able to coach while I had them.”

  “Understood. Why don’t you come over here on your next day off and look around, see the facility, the equipment and all that, and we can talk about getting some sessions on the books that work for you?”

  I glanced at the time. “I’m off today if you’re going to be there for a bit.”

  “I’m here until five o’clock. Come any time you like.”

  After wolfing down a sandwich for lunch, I headed over to Bayside Sports, a huge complex just outside of town. The guy at the desk directed me to Tyler’s office, and I knocked on the open door.

  He looked up from his desk and smiled as he rose to his feet. “Hey, Dex.”

  “Hey, Coach. Nice place here.”

  “Thanks.” He came around the desk and shook my hand. “Let’s have a look around.”

  He gave me a tour of both the indoor and outdoor facilities, and I was thoroughly impressed with the size, the amount of equipment, and the quality of the machines. We talked about the kind of sessions I might do, how we could schedule them, where they’d fit into an athlete’s overall training regimen. He asked if I’d be interested in doing private fitness coaching since he fielded quite a few inquiries from parents looking to give their kids a leg up on the competition, what I’d charge for both group and private sessions, and what my schedule was like through the fall and winter. I told him I was up for helping out wherever I was needed, as long as he could work with my availability.

  We went back to his office, where I filled out some paperwork and gave him my schedule for September and October.

  “This is totally workable,” he said. “I’m going to put a few group sessions on the website for September, and send out an email that we’ve got a new trainer—a firefighter and ex-Navy SEAL—but his time is limited so if you want to get in, you have to act fast. I’m positive they’ll be full in a week.”

  “Sounds good.” While he typed something on his computer, I glanced around his office. He had a lot of photos and memorabilia from his MLB days, but also pictures of his family. I recognized his wife April—Chip’s birth mom—and their two younger kids. He also had a big picture of Chip framed on the wall—standing on the mound, looking fierce and ready for battle. It looked like it had been taken in the early days of Chip’s Major League career, and I could easily see the resemblance between father and son.

  It made me think of my own father. What did he look like now? Was he still tall and wiry? Did he still have dark hair? Mean eyes? Were his knuckles still scarred?

  Or would he be old and frail now? White-haired and stoop-shouldered, just another old man shuffling toward death, burdened by the weight of regret. Maybe I wouldn’t even recognize him.

  Tyler frowned at his computer screen. “Can you text me a short bio by the end of the day?”

  “Sure.” Maybe Winnie would help me with that.

  “Thanks. Before you go, I’ll take your picture.”

  “Okay.” I ran a hand over my hair. Had I even brushed it today?

  “Don’t worry about your hair, Matthews. They’re all going to be looking at those guns.” He grabbed a shirt from a file cabinet drawer and tossed it at me. “Here. Put this on. It’s a medium, so it’s probably going to be a little tight, but that’s the idea.”

  I laughed. “Okay.”

  After the guy at the desk took a picture of me in a very fitted Bayside Sports T-shirt, I shook Tyler’s hand, thanked him, and told him I’d get the bio to him later tonight.

  “Perfect,” he said, giving me a smile. “Welcome to the team.”

  On my way home from Bayside, I stopped by my sister’s house. I hadn’t spoken to her all week, and I felt bad about it. She and I were close, and even though I had no intention of changing my mind about seeing our dad, I didn’t want that to come between us.

  I let myself in her side door just as she was coming into the kitchen. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know.” I ran a hand over my hair. “I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I just got the kids down for a nap. Let’s go outside.”

  “Okay.” I went out to the deck and dropped into a chair, slipping my sunglasses on. Bree came out a minute later with
a baby monitor, setting it on the table before she sat next to me.

  “Justin around?” I asked.

  “No. He’s at a dentist appointment.”

  I nodded and looked around their yard. “Tell him I said he should mow the lawn.”

  She nudged my leg with her foot. “Tell Hallie I said you should stop wearing her clothes.”

  Glancing down at my ridiculously tight shirt, I chuckled. “My new uniform.”

  “You got another job?”

  “Just part-time. I’m going to do some conditioning sessions over there. Give them a little taste of boot camp.”

  She laughed. “I’m sure they’ll love it.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. On the monitor, Prescott made a few fussy noises, but settled again.

  “How’s the first week of school going for the girls?” Bree asked.

  “Good.” The tension in my jaw eased a little. “They really like their teachers, and Naomi says Hallie hasn’t had any anxious mornings.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  “Did I tell you they conned me into getting a cat?”

  Bree laughed. “How’d they manage that?”

  “They ganged up on me. Sneak attack. But it turns out a cat will be fine alone for twenty-four hours, so I won’t need anyone to feed her while I’m at work.” I paused. “Although Winnie offered to feed her.”

  My sister glanced at me. “How’s that going?”

  “Fine.”

  “Justin said you were going to apologize to her for something you said.”

  “Justin has a big mouth,” I muttered.

  “Well, it was obvious something was wrong on Monday. I didn’t need to be told that. I just wondered what it was.”

  I exhaled. “I was a dick. I said I was sorry. It’s done.”

  “What were you a dick about?”

  “None of your beeswax,” I said.

  “Let me guess.” Lifting herself on the arms of the chair, Bree tucked her legs beneath her. “She noticed you acting like a bear with a thorn in his paw and asked what was wrong, and you gave her the finger and told her to mind her own beeswax.”

  “Something like that,” I said with a one-shouldered shrug.

  “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to tell the truth every once in a while when someone asks if you’re okay.”

  I clenched my jaw again. “I made it right with her.”

  “Good. So when will you get this cat?”

  “Not sure. I don’t know how long the adoption process is or even where to go, but Winnie knows a few places.” Her name was out of my mouth before I could think.

  My sister shook her head. “You’re really gonna be lost without her when she moves away, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be just fine.” But I shifted in my chair, and the silence that followed bothered me.

  “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

  “Dad, I guess. Did you see him?”

  “Not yet. But we spoke again on the phone.”

  I kept my focus straight ahead and said nothing. Part of me was curious about the conversation, but I refused to ask.

  Bree sighed. “I’ve decided I’m going to visit him next weekend. But you don’t have to see him, Dex. I know he was much harder on you, and your memories are different than mine.”

  “I know I don’t have to see him,” I said. “But I’m having a hard time letting you do this alone.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw her smile. “Aw. You love me.”

  “Occasionally,” I grumbled.

  “Well, that’s sweet. But I thought about it and talked it over with Justin, and I decided if I’m going to do this, I’m not going to do it hiding behind my big brother.”

  “And you’re ready to forgive him for everything?”

  “I don’t know, Dex. But it doesn’t do much good to keep hanging on to this shit, does it? Why not let it go before he’s gone forever and you lose the chance?”

  “I just don’t think I can,” I said stubbornly.

  “Well, I need to at least try. But I can handle this on my own. You don’t even have to hear about it if you don’t want to.”

  “Fine.”

  I stayed just long enough to see the kids when they woke up and give Justin shit about his long-ass lawn—he was equally relentless about my tight shirt—and then I headed home.

  Feeling restless and agitated, I decided to take a run. It didn’t sit right with me, the way my sister seemed able to stare down demons I couldn’t. I didn’t like thinking of myself as the kind of guy who avoided a challenge. Tyler had mentioned my tough mental mettle from my days on the high school team, and it was true—I’d learned to put my feelings aside and focus on the game. I never brought any bullshit onto the field. That kind of machine-like ability to focus on the job at hand—show up, get it done, and get out—had served me well as a SEAL too. And now as a firefighter.

  Five miles later, I returned home and put myself through some strength and core exercises on the lawn just beyond my patio. Pushing myself hard felt good.

  After my final push-up, I collapsed on the grass, rolling onto my back. The late afternoon sun was bright in my eyes, and I closed them, breathing hard. A few seconds later, a shadow fell over my face. I opened my eyes, shading them with my hand.

  Winnie stood there with a bottle of water. “Thought you might need this.”

  “Thanks.” I sat up and popped to my feet, although I groaned while doing it. “These old bones just took a beating.”

  She laughed. “I saw. I was sweating just watching you.”

  I uncapped the water and chugged half of it down. “Did you just get home from work?”

  She nodded, glancing down at her dark green Cloverleigh Farms polo and khaki pants. “Yes. I escaped early.”

  “Nice.” I drank the rest of the water. “Guess what I did today?”

  “What?”

  “Got a side job doing some fitness coaching at Tyler Shaw’s sports complex.”

  Her mouth fell open, and she clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s amazing! How’d that happen?”

  “He reached out this morning, and I went over there this afternoon.”

  “Want to train me?” She flexed her biceps, and I gave one a squeeze.

  “Yes. You need it.”

  Sticking her tongue out, she gave my chest a shove. “I’ll have you know, I can hold a plank for two solid minutes.”

  “Sorry,” I said, chuckling. “Let me make it up to you. Want to go grab some dinner?”

  Her face fell. “I can’t. I’m actually just home to change real quick, and then I’m meeting Ellie for dinner downtown.”

  “Oh. No big deal,” I said, even though I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see her tonight. Tomorrow I worked, and then I’d have the kids.

  “I won’t be late,” she said suggestively, playing with the braid trailing over one shoulder. “Maybe we could hang out when I get back? I could text you?”

  “Whatever,” I said, like I wouldn’t be waiting by the phone.

  “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”

  “Okay. Have fun.” I watched her walk back toward her house, giving me a little wave over one shoulder before she slipped inside the sliding door.

  Exhaling, I thumped the empty plastic water bottle against my leg for a moment, annoyed that she had me missing her when she wasn’t around. That wasn’t part of the deal.

  I headed back inside, determined to do a better job keeping those feelings in check.

  Twenty

  Winnie

  “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me,” Ellie moaned, taking a big gulp of her cocktail.

  I laughed. “I’m not abandoning you.”

  “You are. You’re abandoning me with my mother and Gianni Lupo, and you’re going off to Rhode Island just because someone offered you your dream job.” She made a face. “Rude.”

  “That’s how I felt when you went off to France without me,” I reminded her,
taking a sip of my vodka martini. “And maybe you should keep your voice down, since we’re in a Lupo restaurant.”

  “This isn’t his restaurant. It’s his dad’s. I like his dad just fine. And France was different. It was temporary.” She sniffed. “This is permanent. You’re really leaving me.”

  “So come with me,” I urged. “I’m sure there are wineries near Newport. Can’t you find a job out there too?”

  Ellie sighed. “I can’t. I’m stupidly attached to Abelard. It’s always been my dream to work there.”

  “I understand. It’s home to you.” I played with the stem of my glass. “It’s hard for me to leave home too.”

  “Are you having second thoughts?” Ellie’s eyes widened.

  “No, not exactly. I’m committed to the job, it’s just . . .” I glanced at a table to our left, where a family was celebrating a fiftieth anniversary. “Actually, it’s nothing. Nerves.”

  She eyed me shrewdly as she sipped her gimlet. “Except that’s not your nerves face. That’s your I’m-trying-to-keep-from-admitting-the-truth face.”

  I tried to hide behind my martini glass while taking a sip. Setting it down, I shrugged. “I’m . . . I’m kind of into the guy.”

  “The neighbor?”

  “Yeah. But that’s why it’s better that I’m leaving, right?”

  Ellie studied me with pursed lips. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s only been a couple weeks, right?”

  “Right.” I sat up taller and told myself to stop being foolish. “I’m being silly. He’s just really cool, and we have a good time together. But it’s not serious.”

  “Are you guys seeing a lot of each other?” she asked casually.

  “Not really.” I looked left again. Someone had tied balloons to the backs of their couple’s chairs—one said “50 Years” and the others were shiny gold hearts. “Just the nights he doesn’t have the kids or work.”

  “Every night he doesn’t have the kids or work?”