by Maggie Wells
She felt his silent chuckle. “What you do?” he asked.
“I might talk a good game, but I haven’t been able to back it up. No matter what I say, I keep running right back to you.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “True.”
“And not for the cuisine,” she said, adding a wry little laugh. “That pizza you ordered should be registered as some kind of weapon of mass destruction.”
“You didn’t even taste it.”
“And still I ended up worshipping the porcelain god.”
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Don’t blame my pizza for your questionable choices in liquor consumption. I know undergrads who know better.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. “If you stick with me, this could be your only chance to have a kid of your own.”
He smirked. “You think I looked at you and thought, ‘Now, she looks like a baby-making opportunity’?” Angling his body toward hers, he ran his palm over her messy mop of hair, then traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. “No, Millie, I didn’t choose you because I thought you’d be good breeding stock.”
“Are you saying I wouldn’t be?” She tried to sound affronted, but it was hard with an avalanche of relief shushing through her veins.
He rolled his eyes. “Not at all.” He curled his finger under her chin, and their gazes locked. “When I look at you, I see everything I never knew I needed. You’re smart, funny, and resourceful.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “We won’t even get into the sexy thing, because we’re sitting on a public bench, and I have a hard enough time keeping my hands off you without discussing the finer points.”
“We could discuss them later though.”
He squinted, eyeing her closely. “I’m still reeling a bit. Between you running hot and cold and Mari jerking my chain, I think I might have some whiplash. You’ll forgive me if I’m wary?”
Millie’s cheeks burned, but she managed as much of a nod as his grip would allow. “I get you.”
“You do,” he replied quietly. “Another reason I’m crazy about you.” He lowered his hand, then gently disentangled the other from her grasp. “But I have a whole plateful of crazy right now, so I can’t let myself think too hard about you.”
He sighed and rubbed his palms over his thighs, flattening the knife-edged crease in his trousers. “Now, I’m going to ask you for some space. Ironic, huh?” He laughed again, but the sound came out hollow. “I’m going with Mari for the initial test. Mainly to make sure she shows up. Once we have those results, I’ll be able to think things through. Make up a plan.”
“But until then, you don’t need me around.”
A bitter smirk twisted his lips. “Oh, I’m gonna need you, but I can’t let myself. I need to sort this out on my own.”
“But you know I’ll be here if you need me.”
He looked her full in the eye as he corrected her. “When I need you, Millie.” He planted his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet. “I’ll call you next week.”
“Okay.”
Without another look or touch, he walked away, his back straight, his head high.
Rooted to the spot, she watched him go. His height made him easy to track. The breadth of his shoulders would have made a sculptor weep. Millie watched as he nodded greetings to passersby, stopping occasionally to accept a handshake or a friendly pat on the back. When they were alone, it was easy to forget he was who he was. Easy to believe he belonged to her and only her. But out in the world, he was a person people thought they knew. Someone they believed to be a part of their lives.
And he was.
Each time he led his team onto the court, he took the expectations of thousands of fans with them. The university administration counted on them to represent the school well. The staff basked in the reflected glory the athletic teams brought home. The students’ hopes and dreams lived and died with each basket, touchdown, and home run. Every practice was designed to bring them one step closer to greatness. With the exception of Kate’s Warrior Women’s basketball, the school’s teams were notoriously mediocre. But the cellar dwellers of the country’s toughest conference had more to count on than many top-tier schools.
Every season spawned new hope. Maybe this would be their year. Perhaps this was their chance to come out on top.
Biting her bottom lip, she stared in the direction of Ty’s departure long after he’d disappeared around the corner. He had every right to put her off. She’d been trying to hold him at arm’s length ever since he’d come back from Reno.
Come back to her.
For her.
Despite the gnawing, twisting pain in her gut, she knew she had to let him go for now. It was only right and fair. To both of them, really. For weeks, she’d been telling him to back off, not only because she was afraid of getting in too deep, but also because she was terrified of being his rebound girl. The intensity with which he’d grabbed and held on to her scared her, but it didn’t worry her nearly as much as what he’d do when he found he had an open path to a new life.
He wouldn’t need to settle for a woman who had nothing more to offer than one slightly worse-for-wear heart.
So the tables were turned. Drawing a deep breath, she reached for her tote and swung the bag up onto her lap. Pulling her tablet from its depths, she tapped on the calendar app and started making notations. If she didn’t hear from him in one week’s time, she’d go after him. Baby, no baby. Didn’t matter. She loved him, and she had no doubt she’d love his baby too. Either way, they’d both fought through worse times and come out the other side.
Maybe this was their chance to come out on top.
Blowing the air out of her lungs, she tapped on the messaging application and brought up the string of texts she, Kate, and Avery kept running. She typed with one finger but with what she liked to think was impressive speed. After hearing the little whoosh of the message winging away, she tipped her glasses down onto her nose and waited for their replies.
Almost immediately, the ellipses indicating keyboard action appeared beneath the bubble where she’d typed, Help! I’ve fallen in love and I can’t get up.
Seconds later, Kate’s initials appeared with a simple, Where are you? What do you need?
Almost immediately, Avery chimed in with, Booze is the answer. Calhoun’s?
Millie shook her head and began to type. I’m going home to wallow for a while. My house tonight. Bring ice cream. She stared at the message, then in a new message added, And booze. Another second passed. She tapped out a few more vital letters. And chips.
On it, Kate replied.
I’ll bring chocolate too. Just in case, Avery responded.
Tears filled her eyes, but Millie refused to let them fall. Not until she was safe in her cozy little cottage. Blinking faster than a hummingbird’s wings, she tapped out one last missive. I love you girls.
As she was tucking the tablet back in her bag, it vibrated to indicate a new message arriving. She peeked at the notification and smiled when she saw Avery’s response: Worse than I thought. See you ass app! Then a second later: Damn autocorrect.
Chapter 18
Ty sat midway up the grandstand and off to the side, tucked away behind the piles of backpacks, gym bags, and other gear left behind by the drill team. Ignoring the autumn breeze slicing through his hooded jacket, he kept his attention focused on the lithe form on the track circling the football field. He knew her routine by heart. A two-mile warm-up on the rubberized track would end with a sharp right. She’d crisscross the spokes of the campus quadrangle, then shoot off down University Avenue. It was five miles from the edge of campus to the city water tower. Millie would touch her palm to one of the thick metal support beams to mark her arrival at the halfway point, then double back.
He wanted to follow her. Partly to make sure she was safe but mostly just to be close to her, pat
hetic as he was. But he wouldn’t follow. He’d keep his distance because he loved her. Sounded stupid, but in his mind, the best way he could prove the depth of his feelings for her was by staying away. From her running routine, from her office door, and from her. Period.
The past week had been hell. Mari alternated between threatening, wheedling, and torrential crying jags. Once upon a time, he would have given in to any of those if for no other reason than to make them stop. These days, he could hang up on her.
She was scared. He knew she was. Hell, he was too. He always thought he would like being a dad, but he never planned on anything like this. When Mari had told him she was pregnant the first time, he’d been nervous about the prospect of impending fatherhood, but at least he knew what to do. He’d married her. Made plans to have a family with her. Dreamed about adding a sibling or two for the kid as the years passed. Both he and Mari had been only children, so he loved the idea of his kid having the siblings he’d always wanted.
But none of those dreams were meant to be.
Chafing his hands to warm them, he leaned forward as Millie approached the near side of the track. This was her last pass before she’d take off toward the quad and all points beyond. As soon as she was out of sight, he’d have to put her out of his mind and return to the athletic center. The regular season had started, and the Warriors had posted a win in their first game. No thanks to their coach, whose mind had been off in la-la land.
His thoughts wandered away again as he watched Millie veer off the all-weather track and start pounding pavement. The headband she wore made her red hair stand up like the guy from the Christmas cartoon. He ached to tease her about it. To run his fingers through the fiery tumult of her hair, his hands over her tight runner’s body.
Her ass fit perfectly in his palms. She wore compression tights and a form-fitting jacket. He knew she would shed the jacket by the time she left campus. He’d seen her tie the sleeves around her trim waist without breaking stride. And what a stride it was.
Watching Millie run was almost as good as watching her come. Ty found the play of lean muscle under skintight spandex unspeakably erotic. He’d give his left nut to feel her thighs bunch and flex. To run his hands down taut hamstrings. Feel her heels digging into his ass.
“Hey.”
Ty started, his head jerking up as the decidedly masculine voice cut his trip down fantasy lane short. He blinked to clear his vision and glanced up to find Danny McMillan looming over him. “Oh. Hey.” Returning his attention to the track, he did a quick scan but knew in his gut Millie was already gone. Stifling a sigh, he forced a tight smile for the football coach. “How’s it going?”
Without waiting for an invitation, Danny dropped down on the bleacher. “Not bad. With a little hard work and whole bucket of luck, we might actually end up bowl-eligible.”
Ty frowned, trying to remember what he’d read about the football program’s upcoming conference games. They had two home games and three away before the conference championship game, and if he recalled correctly, every one of those games would be against nationally ranked opponents. Unable to hide his skepticism, he cast Danny a sidelong glance. “Ya think?”
To his credit, Danny laughed and shook his head. “Not really, but there’s always hope.”
“Any given Saturday,” Ty intoned like a television announcer.
“Could happen.” Danny dug his phone out of his jacket pocket, checked a notification on the screen, then tucked it away again. “You taking a breather out here?”
Ty shrugged. “Sometimes the smell of sweat socks can get to a guy.”
“I hear you.” Danny glanced over at him. “You doin’ okay?” When Ty cut him a sharp look, he had the grace to shrug and look abashed. “The girls talk, but not as much as Mike does.”
“So my secret is safe with no one.”
“Secrets, no. You, though… You’re among friends, Ty.”
Danny’s softly spoken reassurance spawned a lump of emotion the size of a fist. Before Ty could get a handle on himself, the damn thing rose up and lodged in his throat, making any kind of verbal response impossible. Pressing his lips tightly together, he feigned undue interest in the marching band’s intricate formations as he nodded an acknowledgment.
“Kate and Avery are slobbering to tell Mari off,” Danny offered.
Ty chuckled and swallowed the knot. “The line of people wanting to do that is long and distinguished.” He rubbed his palms together and was surprised to find them damp. “At least they wouldn’t be throwing elbows.”
The other man bobbed his head. “Kate would, if you needed her to.”
This time, Ty’s laugh rang out hearty and true. “God, could you imagine?”
“Wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Danny snickered too. “Just as well. Avery’s probably a pacifist anyway.”
Ty gave the theory some thought. “I’m betting she’d do a little harm on Kate’s or Millie’s behalf.” He smirked. “She lit into me in the student center the other day, telling me to get my shit straight and fix this thing.”
“Yeah, because you’re the one fucking everything up,” Danny commiserated.
“It takes two. That’s what everyone keeps reminding me.”
“Yeah, it does. But that doesn’t mean the timing doesn’t suck.”
With that one bit of unadorned acceptance of his plight, Ty’s self-control snapped. “It’s mine.” His voice cracked. “The baby. They did the test, and it came back a match.”
“Ah, shit.”
Danny’s soft exhalation echoed everything Ty refused to let himself voice since the call had come an hour before. Slumping forward, he closed his eyes in a weak attempt to ward off reality and caught his face in his hands.
“Crap. Should I have said congratulations?” Danny asked. “I don’t know which is right in this situation.”
“Yes. No. Neither do I.” He gave his face a rough scrub. “God, now she’s considering an abortion, and I…” He let his hands fall limp between his knees and stared bleakly at the field below. “I know it’s her decision, but I feel like my life is being held hostage, you know?”
“Yeah,” Danny replied quietly.
“I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t want it to happen like this. I mean, you’re right about the timing…but as Millie pointed out, this might be the only chance I get to have a kid. She can’t have any, says she never wanted any, and I…” He trailed off, using only a helpless shrug as punctuation. “I do.”
“But you don’t want to be with anyone else.”
“Right.”
“Does she know? About the test, I mean.”
Ty shook his head, incapable of voicing any more denial.
“When are you going to tell her?”
Again, Ty had no words.
“You can’t wait, man. The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be. She’s been on pins and needles too,” Danny reminded him.
“I know.” Ty wrung his hands, then chanced a look at the man beside him. “But how? How do I do this? How can I have a relationship with Millie and be a good father to my kid? Will she still even want a relationship with me? She didn’t sign on for dealing with a kid…and Mari. Hell, she’s hardly signed on for anything.”
“It’s a lot to think about, but you’ll figure it out,” Danny assured him.
“Do you really think so?” he asked bluntly.
Danny clapped him hard on the shoulder, then rose, grunting a bit as his knee popped audibly. “I think you’re a good guy who tries to live a good life.” He surveyed the band members scurrying around in what looked to be complete disarray. “You know, it’s always like this.” He waved a hand in the direction of the field. “On Wednesday, they look like a pack of blind ants scrambling around for the last crumb. By Saturday evening, that mess will be a tribute to David Bowie complete with rocket ship and guitar formati
ons.”
Ty raised his eyebrows, surprised the football coach paid any attention at all to the band director’s plans. “Will it?”
Danny nodded. “I started having a couple of film and television students video band practice and the halftime shows. I make the team watch them every Monday before we review game film.”
“You do?”
Stepping down a row, Danny chuckled. “They hate being compared to the band kids, but I think they’re starting to see the point.”
Ty blinked up at him. “Which is?”
Danny gestured to the field, where chaos seemed to reign. “If they can play ‘Heroes,’ then the sad, sorry bunch of misfit jocks I inherited can try to be heroes.”
“Just for one day?” Ty challenged.
Danny laughed and shook his head as he proceeded to step from bleacher to bleacher. “Hell no. I need five more Saturdays out of them.”
“Don’t forget the bowl game,” Ty called out to him.
Raising both hands over his head, Danny held up six fingers. At the bottom, he squinted up at Ty, shielding his eyes from the lowering sun with one hand. “Hey, Ty?”
“Yeah?”
“Congratulations, man.”
And the fist in his chest was back. Resisting the urge to cover the sore spot with his hand, he waved and called down a gruff, “Thanks.”
* * *
Practice dragged past at a snail’s pace. Ty hung back, letting his assistant coaches handle the ins and outs. His powers of concentration were for shit, and the last thing he needed was anyone getting a glimpse of the mess in his head. But once the intrasquad scrimmage and postmortem were done, he found himself reluctant to leave the Warrior Center.
Once he walked through those doors, he’d have to tell Millie the worst good news he’d ever have in his life. Because, in essence, it was good news. Danny’s congratulations drove the reminder home. He was going to be a father, and no matter what the circumstances, he couldn’t help but be a little happy. Between divorcing Mari and falling for Millie, he’d abandoned any hope of ever having a kid of his own. Now the opportunity had come around again, and he couldn’t let it slip by.
