Scrimmage Gone South (Crimson Romance)

by Pace, Alicia Hunter

  Oh, yes. He understood. He understood why that was important even more than she did. Her brow furrowed. She was afraid he would be mad, afraid of not pleasing him. Truth was, he melted a little.

  He looked in the window. “Seems like he’s got that Auburn/Georgia game on. Any chance you might pop us some popcorn?”

  Pleasure and relief bloomed on her face. And surprise. It had never entered her mind that he would be willing to spend the rest of the evening with her if they weren’t going to have sex. Had he been such a bastard that so little could make her so happy?

  He knew the answer to that question.

  • • •

  Kirby had left the door unlocked — again. Tolly had told him again and again to lock himself in. But she wasn’t going to fuss at him tonight, especially not in front of Nathan.

  Kirby got up and looked her up and down. “Miss Tolly, You’re all sparkly. Hey, Coach.” He smiled a twisted little grin. “You got your whistle on, Coach. I didn’t miss a surprise practice, did I?”

  Nathan picked up the whistle from around his neck and lightly blew it. “This is my Halloween costume. I went as a coach.”

  They laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

  “Are you all right, Kirby? Why aren’t you at the party?” she asked.

  “Oh, I went. Oops.” His eyes went back to the television screen. Nathan’s were trained there too.

  Tolly set about closing curtains, turning on lamps, and turning off overhead lights.

  “Oh, sorry. Miss Tolly. I was tired. The party was lame. I just wanted to watch this game.”

  “You’re not sick?” She wanted to feel his forehead but resisted.

  “He’s not sick.” Nathan settled himself on the sofa and Kirby followed suit. “Camping is hard work — something Townshend wouldn’t know anything about,” he said to Kirby in that just us guys voice.

  “Kirby, did you have any dinner?”

  “Um. I — ” Roar of fans from the TV. “What?”

  “Seven!” Nathan barked. “Answer Townshend.”

  “Oh, sorry, Miss Tolly. What did you ask me?” He turned his eyes away from the television. It was hard for him.

  “Did you have any dinner?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I ate at the party. They had hamburgers and stuff.”

  She should scold him for being willing to eat at a party he considered lame. She should ask if he stayed for at least a little while after taking advantage of the hospitality. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.

  “Damn! Did you see that?” That came from Nathan.

  “Pretty!” Kirby said.

  She knew they were talking about a pass, a tackle, or a block — not a cheerleader. They were deep into their game. It was oddly comforting.

  “I’m going to wash the glitter off me. Then I’ll pop some popcorn,” she said.

  They made some noises that may or may not have been an acknowledgement that she existed.

  She was happier than she had been in a very long time.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nathan had promised his boys a short practice and that’s what they got. Normally, when he dismissed them at 4:30, he would have had a coaches’ meeting, but today he was going to do something nice for Townshend. He didn’t know what yet, but — after those Halloween night revelations — he was definitely going to try harder. He hadn’t seen her on Sunday. After the full weekend he’d had, he really did have to watch game film and grade papers. But he’d called her and she was happier to hear from him than he deserved.

  Yep, had to try harder.

  She’d still be at her office, so maybe he would surprise her there. He’d never done that, just dropped in to say hi. Women liked that. Probably. Tonight, he intended to watch Monday Night Football, but maybe they could get some early dinner. They could take Kirby with them. She would like that. But he wanted to take her something now. Not flowers. Not food, if they were going to eat.

  As he drove down Main Street, the Heavenly Confections sign caught his eye. Coffee. Perfect. She’d like one of those silly fancy coffees.

  In the corner of the shop there was a gaggle of teenage girls who called to him when he went in. He waved and smiled but didn’t take the time to note who was who. That kid, Phillip, was behind the counter — though he wasn’t really a kid. Seems like he was out of grad school, but not by much.

  “Hello, Coach!” he said, reaching for a cup. “Plain black coffee?”

  “Not today, Phillip. Caramel latte. Two pumps, whipped cream, shaved chocolate.”

  “Oh, so it’s for Tolly,” he said.

  “Might be.”

  Behind him the door slammed so hard that a basket of some sort of candy fell off a shelf. When he turned to look, he saw Jamie Fisher pass the window, stomping as she went. The girls at the corner table had gone silent and wide-eyed.

  Kid drama. He was an expert on it. They’d all be made up by bedtime.

  “Wonder what that was about,” Phillip said.

  Nathan shrugged. “Could you give me a couple of those coconut rum truffles too?” That was for him. “And a caramel apple?” He didn’t know if Townshend particularly liked caramel apples but he wanted to watch her eat it.

  • • •

  “Too bad all my work isn’t this easy,” Tolly said to Luke, who was sitting in the visitor’s chair in front of her desk. She riffled though the file again to make absolutely sure she had everything she needed to start the process for Lanie to adopt Emma — though there was little doubt that Luke had his ducks in a row.

  “I know we don’t need legal papers for Emma to be Lanie’s child, but I want to ensure that if something were to happen to me, no one would be able separate the two of them.”

  “Do you think someone would try?” It was the lawyer in her that asked. Her brain had already fast forwarded to the time when Luke was dead and she had to fight in court for Lanie to keep Emma. Why was it she could stay twenty steps ahead in her professional life but remained fifty steps behind in her personal life? Though, she and Nathan seemed to be making progress.

  “No, I don’t,” Luke said. “I know none of my family would. Carrie had some distant cousins and I doubt they would either. I only ever saw them at our wedding. But Emma does have a trust fund that I had set up when I sold Carrie’s real estate business.”

  “Money will make people do awful things, but this is good insurance.” She tapped the folder of papers he’d brought in.

  “There’s something else.” Luke reached into his messenger bag and drew out two legal documents and handed them to her. “Our wills. They were written before we married, so we need to update them. We’ll come in together soon to talk about the other particulars, but we’d like for my sister, Arabelle, to have custody of Emma and the baby, should something happen to both of us.”

  Tolly scribbled on her legal pad. “And further issue?”

  Luke hesitated. “Yes. We haven’t talked about more children but might as well include that now. These things can slip up on you.”

  She laughed. “And I imagine the more children in the house, the more slippery it gets.”

  He grinned. “Oh, yes.”

  “I assume you have discussed this with Arabelle?”

  “Yes.” He got to his feet and Tolly rose as well. “While she wasn’t delighted to discuss our hypothetical deaths, she is more than willing to raise the children should the need arise.”

  “Good. I know what it’s like to all of a sudden have a child with no warning.” She came from behind her desk and walked with him to the door. “Not that I expect that to happen to Arabelle. I have no doubt you and Lanie will see Emma become president and that baby boy build a tree house on Mars for his grandchildren.”

  “I hope so. But here’s the thing, Tolly.” He looked deep into her eye
s and she felt his sadness. “You don’t know. I know the truth of that.”

  Tolly laid a hand on his arm. “Yes, you do,” she softly. “More than any of us can fathom.”

  “I thought I would die when Carrie was killed, but if Lanie had not survived that accident last spring — ” His voice caught. “Sorry. I guess I am emotional today. Lanie had a sonogram this morning and it started me thinking how empty Emma and I would be without her and the promise of him.”

  “Oh, Luke.” Tolly held out her arms and he came into them. “But you have your wonderful little family. None of us could do without our Lanie.”

  “You are very special,” he said.

  Then the door opened and Tolly and Luke broke apart. When she saw that it was Nathan, Tolly felt a smile bloom on her face — until she saw his.

  He was livid — beyond livid.

  She stepped toward him and reached out her hand. “Nathan? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

  He stepped back to avoid her touch.

  “Yeah, Townshend. Something has happened. That’s apparent. I’ve been duped again.” He turned to look at Luke. “I thought you were my friend.”

  What? “I don’t understand — ” Had something happened between Luke and Nathan?

  “You.” Nathan pointed at Luke. “Not married six months. With a pregnant wife. And Townshend is Lanie’s best friend!”

  It was only then that Tolly got it.

  “No!” she cried. “No, Nathan. You cannot think that I would — ”

  “Nathan.” Luke had taken out his courtroom voice. “Stop this. Think about what you are implying.”

  “I’m not implying anything. I am saying.” He tossed the Heavenly Confections bag he’d been carrying into the trash. “And I am done here.”

  And he was gone.

  Tolly stood frozen, but it wasn’t from the friendly insulating ice. It was arctic pain that coursed through her. She had thought they were making progress.

  He hadn’t learned a thing. And apparently, neither had she.

  “Hey.” Luke took her arm and led her to her chair. “It’s all right, Tolly. I’ll follow him and talk to him. He’ll be up here in no time with an apology and flowers. Y’all will laugh about this.”

  “No,” she said.

  “No, what?”

  “No, everything. I don’t want you to go after him. I don’t want an apology. And I am damn sure never going to laugh about this.”

  “Tolly.” He squatted down to meet her eyes. “Nathan is a hothead and he’s had a bad week. He acted stupid. Unforgiveable. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t forgive him. Don’t let one incident ruin your relationship.”

  Ah, Luke. The newly and completely in love, crusading for love for everyone — even those who could never have it.

  “No, Luke. I appreciate it, but there’s more to it than that. Nathan and I are over.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes. I am very, very sure.” She laughed, but there were some tears under the surface. “I should have been sure before we even started.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Oh, Judge Avery. Ever the analytical mind, paying attention to every word. Go home to Lanie and Emma, Luke.”

  “Come with me. I don’t want to leave you like this. Lanie’s making spaghetti.”

  “You’re a good friend to ask, but I don’t think so.”

  He rose and nodded. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes. Please don’t tell Lanie. I am having lunch with her tomorrow and I’ll tell her then, but I just cannot deal with it tonight.”

  “All right. I can do that.” He touched her shoulder before leaving.

  Now she had to figure out how tell to Lanie what had just happened. The trick was how she could present it in a way to keep Lanie from being mad at Nathan.

  She almost laughed. Was she destined to try to protect him, take care of him, until she went to her grave? It had come natural, even when she was sixteen.

  The day he’d gotten hurt, she’d been frantic. There she was in Tuscaloosa with her family, watching as he was carried off the field on a stretcher — having to hide her terror. Everywhere she turned — during the rest of the game, over dinner at the Cypress Inn, on the ride back to Mason-Harper — all anyone could talk about was would he ever play again and the answer was probably not. She knew what that had to be doing to him, and was desperate to get to him.

  As soon as her parents and grandparents dropped her off, she got in her car and drove back to Tuscaloosa, without even trying to cover her tracks. She could get expelled for such a thing, but she didn’t care. His father had died last spring. His mother was absent. All she could think about was that he was alone and might need a drink of water. It was irrational thinking, even for a dramatic sixteen-year-old. Of course, there would be people around. He had friends, teammates, coaches. And failing that, there was hospital staff. But she was fixated on the fact that he might be thirsty. Maybe it was because she couldn’t bear to think of his physical pain, never mind the emotional blow.

  She tried to call several times along the way, but his phone went to voicemail every time. Who knew if he even had it with him? That was another thing she could do — make sure he had his phone, the charger, and anything else he might need. If she had to ask Harris to get her into his room, so be it. She didn’t care anymore. What were they going to do? Kill her? No, and she didn’t much care what else.

  She got to the hospital a little after 10 P.M. When she stopped at the information desk and asked for Nathan’s room number, the volunteer there told her visitors’ hours were over. Good. He’d be alone.

  But not for long. “I’m his cousin,” she lied. “I’ve just driven over from Mississippi. I spoke with his doctor, and he told me it would be all right. In fact, he was glad that I’m willing to sit up with him tonight.”

  The woman wrinkled her brow. “The doctor’s name?”

  “Evans,” she said promptly. That was easy. It had been all over the news.

  “All right,” the woman said with some hesitation, but she gave her the number.

  Even back then Townshend knew if you acted sure of yourself, people seldom questioned you very much.

  She expected to find him asleep, but he was wide awake, watching a sportscaster who was speculating on his condition — and not in a positive way.

  His chocolate brown eyes were wild with fear and pain. When he looked at her, anger surfaced there too, though, at the time, she took it for surprise. She rushed to his bedside, where monitors beeped and his leg was elevated in a sling.

  She took the remote from him and turned off the television. “Listening to that isn’t going to do any good.”

  “Imagine you knowing what’s best for me.” His voice was hard and cold, but she didn’t take it personally.

  “I came as soon as I could,” she said. “I tried to call. Do you need a drink of water?”

  “No, I don’t need any water from you. And I know you called.”

  “You know? You got my messages?” He always returned her calls.

  “I chose not to answer your calls. I thought that prudent, you being a minor and all.”

  The bottom fell out of her stomach, her world, the universe.

  “I tried to tell you last weekend — ” she began.

  He held up a hand. “Do not talk about last weekend!” he said through gritted teeth. “Did you laugh at me? For giving you that lame student ticket, when you spend every game in the President’s Box? You must have thought it was hilarious when I gave you my jersey to wear. I somehow don’t think that’s appropriate attire to hobnob with the dignitaries — even if it is the jersey of the late great Nathan Scott.”

  “Oh, no, Nathan. It wasn’t like that. No. I —
”

  “Get out of here, Townshend. Leave. Your game of the little rich girl playing with the poor but promising super jock is over. Because I am not a super jock anymore.”

  “I don’t care. I never — ”

  “Save it,” he said coldly. “I have to admit though, you really had me going. That night at the DKE House. I could have sworn you didn’t know who I was.”

  “Nathan, I know I did wrong. I know it’s a mess. But if you will just let me explain.”

  “Did it even occur to you that I am twenty-one years old? Almost twenty-two. Do you know I could have been arrested?”

  “No. You could not have. We didn’t do anything.”

  “Innocent people are arrested all the time, Townshend. And my career would have been over.” He laughed a laugh totally devoid of humor. “Though I guess if you weren’t going to get me one way, you would get me another. Looks like my career is over anyway.”

  “What? I don’t see how I — ” It’s not like she had been on that field today in a Mississippi State Bulldog uniform.

  “Distraction, Townshend. An hour before suiting up, I found out that the sweet, classy girl who I thought just might be the love of my life, was a sixteen-year-old manipulative, lying star chaser.” He looked away. “You need to leave, Townshend. There are no more stars here to chase.”

  “But how — ”

  “That would be important to you, wouldn’t it? I went into Harris’s room to borrow some batteries. There was a stack of pictures of some fancy shindig your family attended — some cousin’s debutante party, Harris said — and guess who was front and center, every picture?” He made a disgusted sound. “Harris noticed I was staring at your pictures and told me to put my eyes back in my head, that you were sixteen years old.”