by Joy Eileen
Trip smiled when he noticed my scowl as I studied him and Brian casually standing in my living room with Norah chattering away.
"So you've just heard of me in passing?" he asked as Brian laughed next to him.
“She calls everyone uncle, and I was telling her you were my new coach,” I explained, hoping Norah would keep her mouth shut.
Norah cocked her head to the side with confusion.
"Kenna, I need you. My piece of feces sewing machine doesn't realize I have a deadline and is acting like a flaccid phallus," Renee yelled, storming into the living room, her hair wild around her head.
Renee's eyes grew wide when she realized we weren't alone. She tugged on her wrinkled tank top, trying to cover her skimpy shorts. "What are you doing here?"
"He's here—"
I cut Norah off before she could remind Trip of our upcoming nuptials. "He took over Coach Hans’ spot. He's my new coach," I finished lamely.
“Okay, but what are they doing here?”
"I brought back her car," Trip added while Brian stared at Renee with shock on his face.
"Why do you have Dora?" Norah asked, her tiny little face focused on Trip.
"Dora?" Brian questioned.
Trip threw back his head and laughed loudly. "Dora the Explorer. Why does that not surprise me, Raine?"
Renee cleared her throat and I refused to look at her.
"Well, okay. Thanks for bringing my car back. Let me get your keys." I dug in my purse while my cheeks burned red. I needed to get them out fast before Norah opened her adorable little mouth and let forth more embarrassing words.
"Momma, can Aunt Kenna make me breakfast first before she fixes your stupid sewing machine?"
"Norah Grace, you know I don't like that word," Renee scolded, bopping her nose.
"Well, it was either that word or another and I don't think you really would have liked the other one."
Trip and Brian laughed, but it turned into a cough when Renee shot them the evil eye.
"I can take a look at your sewing machine. I used to fix my grammy's all the time when her eyesight went bad," Brian offered.
"It's fine. Kenna's really good at fixing it," Renee stammered, her hand flying to her unruly hair.
"Momma, this is perfect. He can help you with your stu—I mean, sewing machine, and Aunt Kenna and Uncle Trip can cook breakfast."
I groaned, staring at the ceiling.
"I really need to get back," Trip started, but Brian wasn't having any of it.
"What a great idea." He slapped Trip on the shoulder before moving closer to Renee. "Lead the way."
"No, really, it's fine." Renee eyed me and I just shrugged.
She finally blew out a breath and headed toward her sewing machine with Brian right behind her.
"Come on, Aunt Kenna. Come on, Uncle Trip." Norah grabbed our hands and pulled us into the kitchen.
"She calls everyone uncle?" Trip’s voice sounded skeptical.
"Norah, if you want to turn five I suggest you keep your mouth shut," I hissed to her.
Norah's little face scrunched up as she contemplated if her next birthday was truly in danger. My face must have conveyed how serious I was.
"Yes, I call everyone uncle. I get confused. I'm only four, you know." Norah put her hands on her hips and glared at Trip, her face daring him to contradict her.
Trip winked at her before swinging her around, resting her on his hip. "What are we having for breakfast?"
I dragged my feet behind the two of them. I tried not to think about how cute Trip was holding Norah. When I felt the image burn into my brain I began reciting the muscles in the body.
"What did you say about my gluteus maximus?" Trip asked, turning around to smirk at me.
"Aunt Kenna recites the muscles when she gets annoyed," Norah explained to him. "So don't worry, it wasn't your butt she was thinking about."
Trip's eyes went wide and I giggled, grabbing Norah from his arms.
"It's never yours," I added.
Trip's eyebrow went up and his gaze landed on my chest before looking back into my eyes. "I highly doubt that. So what are we making for breakfast? I make a mean blueberry waffle."
"The waffle part sounds amazing but skip the blueberries," I told him, shuffling around the kitchen to pull out the waffle iron.
"What? Blueberries are the best part."
"I'm allergic to blueberries. My eyes swell up and my throat gets scratchy," Norah explained, shaking her head like she was disappointed he didn't know that about her.
"Well, we wouldn't want that. Trip waffles without blueberries coming up." He took the waffle iron from me and moved around the kitchen with ease.
I sat next to Norah and tried not to stare at the sexy man in my kitchen, cooking breakfast. A loud laugh came from the hallway and I glanced at Norah.
"I think Momma likes him. She never laughs at guys unless it's Grandpa," Norah whispered in my ear.
Renee's laugh sounded out again, this time followed by a deeper one belonging to Brian.
"You're right. I don't remember your mom laughing like that in a long time." I tickled her tummy and she squealed loudly.
"Not even with my daddy?" she asked, her eyes round with innocence.
Renee and I never hid anything from Norah, but we also never told her the complete truth of her father. In the beginning it was enough, but since she started school and saw all the daddies she was more curious about her sperm donor.
Trip glanced at us and stopped cutting fruit. He leaned against the counter, not bothering to hide he was listening. His arms bulged when they crossed over his muscular chest and my mouth went dry from the sight. Trip coughed and I glanced back at Norah, knowing I was caught.
"Your mom and I weren't friends when she was with your daddy. We only became friends when I found out she was pregnant with you. I don't know if she ever laughed with him, but I have a feeling she didn't. I can promise you she’s gotten more laughs from you than a million guys could have given her. And he made us both happy by giving us you."
Trip sent me a wink before moving to pull out the first waffle.
"What would you like on your waffle, my lady?" Trip asked Norah.
"Strawberries and whipped cream." She bounced up and down.
"That's a lot of sugar for breakfast," I told her, getting up and pulling out the butter and syrup.
"Aunt Kenna, you threatened my life and told me my dad was a scoundrel. I think sugar’s in order this morning. Don't you?" she countered.
"You told her what?" Renee emerged from the hall, Brian standing next to her.
I smacked my palm against my forehead, glaring at Norah around my wrist. She blew me a kiss and pointed to her bare waffle.
Needing something to do, I poured fresh strawberries on her waffle, finishing it off with a mountain of whipped cream, hoping it would keep her quiet.
"Trip wanted to make her blueberry waffles, but we explained Norah was allergic to them."
Trip nodded, confirming my statement.
"Then we heard you laugh, and I asked if you laughed like that with my dad," Norah filled in.
I bit my lip as I watched Renee's cheeks turn red.
"And Aunt Kenna explained she never saw you two together, but she was certain I made you laugh more than anyone," Norah finished with a huge mouthful of sugar coated waffle.
"Anyone want a waffle?" Trip interjected.
"I do," I answered, thankful for the subject change.
"Those were amazing," Norah said, rubbing her tummy.
"Trip's infamous for his waffles, but I'm a legend for my enchiladas." Brian got up and grabbed his plate, taking Renee's and Norah's as he went to the kitchen.
"Your enchiladas have nothing on my steak," Trip argued.
"Are you two really arguing about enchiladas and steak, or are those just euphemisms?” I asked, pushing my plate away.
Trip coughed on the coffee he just took a sip of, and Norah pounded her fist on his back.
<
br /> "Not a euphemism. It was my subtle way of asking if I could come over and make you dinner," Brian said, shooting Renee a wink.
Renee narrowed her eyes and I braced myself for her rejection. When she’d found out about Norah she’d sworn off men for good. I watched her shoot down every attempt at flirtation with detachment.
"I have a huge deadline this week. If you want to come over and cook this Friday, that would be nice."
My jaw unhinged at Renee's acceptance.
"Sounds like a plan. I'll be over here at six-thirty? It takes a while to assemble them."
"I don't know if I’ll be done by then," Renee added, her eyes locked on him.
This was a test. I knew Renee too well. Friday night Trip and Brian were known to party. An early dinner would give them plenty of time to go out and party afterward. Renee wasn't going to make any of this easy for him, but I was proud she was giving him a chance.
"That's fine. Norah can help me in the kitchen so you can get your work done."
"Are you going to come too, Uncle Trip?" Norah asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Norah, Trip’s a busy man. I'm sure he has better things to do on a Friday night, than come eat dinner with us," I said, hoping she’d get the hint and stop scheming.
"Actually, I wouldn't miss a chance for Brian's enchiladas. I'll be here."
“Once again, euphemism? Is there something going on between you two?” I asked, wishing I’d stop talking.
Brian and Trip chuckled and shook their heads.
“He’s not my type,” Brian said, not taking his eyes off Renee.
“He doesn’t like the strong sexy type,” Trip added, flexing his delicious arms.
My back teeth throbbed from being clenched so tight. How was I supposed to start thinking of Trip as a coach if he kept showing up at my house and flexing?
"Do you think that’s a good idea? Being you're my coach and all." My voice sounded squeaky and it made Trip smile wider.
"It's a friendly dinner, Raine. Nothing more. Besides, how can I decline an invitation from such a beautiful girl?" Trip hugged Norah tightly. His eyes locked on mine as if daring me to acknowledge the dinner was something more.
"Come on, Trip, I need to get you to the practice field before I go to the gym."
"See you at practice, Raine. Don't be late." Trip got up and put his plate in the dishwasher before following Brian to the front door. "Oh and, Raine. You might want to change before practice."
I looked down and groaned. I was wearing Trip's jersey and sweatpants. The same thing I had worn to bed since high school. His number and name plastered all over me for him to see.
"Holy shit, I mean shoot. Did Trip Butler just flirt with you?" Renee leaned across the table so her face was in mine.
"No, he's my coach," I gritted out.
"But not for much longer. And why did he have your keys? And why didn't you tell me?" she replied in a sing-song voice.
"He likes you, Aunt Kenna. He really is going to be my Uncle Trip," Norah added.
"Stop. There’s nothing going on between us. I was helping him out. It was friendly."
"If you say so. Just be careful."
"Me, what about you? You just accepted a date from Brian Wright."
Renee shrugged her shoulder and started braiding Norah's hair. This was the tactic Renee used to keep her hands busy when she was mulling something over. Poor Norah had her hair in braids every day when Renee debated whether she should launch her clothing website.
"He was nice and he fixed my sewing machine." Renee stared down at the top of Norah's head. "Don't you have practice?"
I glanced at the clock on my phone and scrambled to get up from the table.
"We’ll talk about this later," I yelled, running into my room and stripping off my clothes with Trip's name on it as I did.
Chapter Five
"Good practice, Raine."
Trip's deep melodic voice hit the back of my neck, making the hairs stand on end. My shoulder ached, radiating pain throughout every muscle, only ending when it reached the tip of my toes. I hadn't realized how out of shape I allowed myself to become when I stopped being the starting pitcher. Thankfully Trip was there to remind me.
"Thanks, Coach," I muttered, not slowing down on my way to the locker room.
A quick shower and a bag of ice on my way to work was all I could focus on. I had a feeling this was the only thing keeping Trip alive.
"I really feel like I improved my curve today, don't you, Coach?" Claire's flirty voice broke into my thoughts of hot water and ice.
"It's getting there. I don't think we’ll use it Saturday at the scrimage but there was definitely some improvement," Trip answered.
"I was thinking maybe you could come to practice early tomorrow and we could work on it. I've already accepted a pitching position overseas and I’d really like to have the curve down before I graduate and go over."
"Let's do it Monday next week. I don't want to get your arm too sore before the game on Saturday."
"Oh, okay," Claire responded.
I slipped through the locker door so I couldn't hear what her next excuse would be to get more one-on-one Trip time. She had been trying every practice to get him to meet her for help.
"Just stay where I put you," I muttered, smacking the ice back on my shoulder.
"I've always found when I yell at my ice it responds better when I yell at it in its native language, Eskimo." Trip emerged out of his office just as I walked past it, a smirk on his face.
"I didn't realize you were fluent in Aleut."
Trip let out a loud belly laugh, causing my insides to flip around. "Only you, Raine."
"I'm positive I'm not the only person in this world who knows what Eskimos speak. It's probably even been an answer on Jeopardy."
"You're right. My apologies. Are you headed to work?"
"I am. I have a patient who’s in desperate need of torture."
Trip laughed again and this time I couldn't stop the smile forming on my face.
"Coach Butler, Raine. How are you tonight?" Coach Mae walked out. Her arms crossed over her chest as she surveyed the two of us.
"I'm good. We were discussing the native tongue of the Eskimos."
Trip nudged me with his shoulder before I could continue babbling.
My face flamed red and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from rambling. Guilt and embarrassment surged through me, feeling like a swarm of angry bees. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Coach Mae was aware of my crush on Trip. When she mentioned she used to be his coach I bombarded her with questions about what he was like when he was younger. My obsession was well-known on the team, and I was grateful they hadn't revealed it to Trip. Yet.
"Ahh, yes, the native tongue of Eskimos." Coach Mae rolled her eyes and faced Trip. "I told you she’s full of facts."
"You sure did. But you didn't tell me what a good pitcher she was, though." Trip's voice was full of amusement.
"Okay, well, I have to get to work. I’ll see you tomorrow at practice."
I waved over my shoulder with my good arm then quickly slapped my hand down on the ice to keep it from sliding off, booking it to my car.
"Trip's in room three for you."
I jumped at Jessica's hostile voice. She must’ve been waiting for me to walk out of my last patient’s room just so she could talk about him. Jessica lingered and I knew she wanted me to ask her to assist.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." she huffed off, throwing her blonde hair behind her shoulder, knowing it wasn’t going to happen.
"So it's your turn to be the victim." I rubbed my hands together with glee as I stepped into the room.
My heart raced at the thought of being alone with Trip again. Stupid heart.
"What are we working on today?" Trip asked in a clipped tone.
My steps faltered at his tone. "I wanted to do the same treatment we did yesterday, add more reps in the we
ight room."
Trip nodded and took off his shirt without a word. My hands had a slight tremor to them when I placed the electro-stem pads on his shoulder. I waited for a smart-ass remark and was disappointed when Trip kept his mouth in a firm line.
"All righty then."
“So how do you feel about the scrimage game on Saturday?” I asked, wondering if I was imagining his cold attitude.
“Fine. I feel like we have a shot at winning. It will help gauge how the team will do during the real games.”
I nodded, waiting to see if he was going to add more or at least interject some personality. His answer reminded me of how he’d talk to the press after a bad win.
“Are you ready to do weights?”
Trip nodded and pulled his shirt back on, stalking toward the workout room.
“Do you think you’ll be able to drive your car home, or do we need to switch again?”
“I have a ride.”
I rolled my eyes and concentrated on putting his shoulder through its therapy. If he didn’t want to talk then I wasn’t going to force him.
I blew out a short breath when I climbed into my car, happy the session was over. As soon as I dismissed Trip from his appointment he put away the weights and flew out of the room. The whole PT session was emotionally draining and I was ready to go home.
The back of my head slammed against the headrest. As I watched Trip climb in a car with a beautiful blonde woman I wanted to scream and cry at the same time.
Was she his girlfriend? Was that why he was so distant during his session? Why was I overanalyzing this so much? We had one session before today. He owed me nothing.
"Aunt Kenna, I think Mommy is crazy."
I snorted and patted the couch where oddly enough I was trying not to act as crazy as Renee was. Since Norah had come to me and not Renee I guessed I was doing a somewhat more convincing job.
"She's not crazy. She's nervous because Brian will be here soon."
My heartbeat picked up. I paid close attention to make sure there wasn't a flutter.
Heart palpitations could be serious.
"Do you think he will be my daddy?"
Her innocent little squishy face gazed at me and I faltered on my answer. Renee and I begged my parents for advice and validation in the beginning of Norah's life. We were getting better at the everyday mundane things, but every once in a while Norah would stump one of us and we’d wish for my parents.
