“I’m not going to take her anywhere, Chris. You have my word.”
He nods, but his furrowed brow shows he’s not completely convinced.
“Maggie already loves her, so I hope not.”
“You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Thank you, but I still will. Second, it’s Brad. He’s made a lot of mistakes in his life and he’s still finding his way to where he belongs. To me, it seems he fits in with you and Em, of course.”
My heart swells at hearing that someone outside of us sees the rare connection Brad and I have.
“But if you hurt my son, I worry he’ll never recover. He’s quickly finding out that when you’re a husband and a father, all the needs of your family come before yours. That everything you do is for them, not yourself. That’s a hard thing for Brad. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone as selfish as my son.” He shrugs, like what can he do about it now?
“So, I guess what I’m asking you, Taylor, is to please protect my family because the control of their hearts is slowly turning in your hands. It scared me when you first walked through that door because I don’t know you very well.” I nod, unsure if I should argue back. This man, who has made me nervous every second this weekend, is now being so open with me. “I’d like to change that though.” He smiles and there’s that matching dimple of Brad’s.
My shoulders relax. “I’d like that, too.”
“Roosevelt isn’t that far from us,” he reminds me. “If you and Brad are going to give this an honest try, you’ll need some time without Emerson. Let Maggie and I get to know our granddaughter.”
I look over at Em, going back and forth between two bins to hand Chris and me food. How can I take her away from this family, who has accepted us both with no conditions or qualms?
“Thank you, Chris. I’d like that, too.”
His hands smack his legs. “Good. I’m glad you woke your mommy up so early so I could talk with her.” He lays down on his stomach and Em climbs on his back.
I laugh at her riding him like a pony. “Go, Pa!” she exclaims when a much younger version with just as big of a heart barrels down the stairs, his eyes searching for his family.
Our eyes lock on one another as he stops in the hallway, finding us. A slow and easy smile comes over his face and all my worries fade. He sees his dad on the floor, and his stature tenses.
He closes the distance and comes alongside me, kissing my temple. His jean-clad legs rub along my old pajama pants. “How did you sleep?” I ask him, finding his dad’s eyes glance over a few times.
“The best I’ve had in two years.” He winks.
A scorching warm bolt hits my heart, telling me that my love for this man overflows it.
Brad
TAYLOR KICKED ME OUT OF her house last night. She raised a good point on the fact that Emerson shouldn’t see us sleeping together because it might confuse her, but at the same time, if things go right, it’s exactly where we’ll end up. Shouldn’t my daughter know there will be a day I’ll be there when she wakes up? Not wanting to cause any ruffles, I left after thoroughly kissing her, which hopefully resulted in her regretting her decision the minute my taillights faded into the dark.
Honestly, I was closer to the pool this morning when I woke up, so to me it worked out, but damn did I miss her . . . both of them.
Shivers run up my spine when I enter the aquatic center. The Michigan air only becoming colder every day.
“Hey, Brad.” Amanda waves at me while clicking away on the computer.
“Good morning, Amanda,” I nod, bypassing the desk to a waiting Cayden.
He stands to greet me, his hand extended and a huge smile on his face. Those dark-brown eyes filled with determination remind me of Greg. If I didn’t know any better and it was a few years ago, I would have confused the two.
“Thank you so much, Brad.” He appears eager, unable to wait for me to walk the next five steps before closing the distance.
I shake his hand. “No problem. I just hope I can help.”
I secretly pray my work-outs with Tanner over the years will keep this kid on the team. We made up crazy shit, but something worked since both of us earned scholarships to Michigan and Tanner a spot on the Olympic team.
“I’m sure you can.” He rushes to catch up to me at the locker room doors. “Greg would rave about you and how much you helped him shave time off his laps. I know it was some sign from him when you showed up that day at practice.”
I mindlessly go over to the lockers, Cayden on my heels the entire time. “What does Coach say needs help?” It’s easier to disregard memories of Greg because I’ve never handled my guilt very well. The fact that a good friend of mine died and I had no idea won’t stop eating away at me.
I grab the back of my shirt and pull it off my body as I toe out of my shoes.
Cayden starts stripping off the layers of warmth the Michigan weather warrants. “He said I need to shave time off all strokes if I have a chance to make the cut. He moved it up to right after Thanksgiving weekend, so that only gives me a week now.”
“Fuck.” I grab my cap and goggles from my bag and sit on the bench until he’s finished. “That’s not a lot of time, Cayden.” My last intention is to make this endeavor seem hopeless, but since I haven’t seen him swim yet, I truly don’t know what we’re up against. Greg was a good swimmer though, so I’m hoping the skill is in the genes.
He bites his lip, looking at me as though he’s already been cut. “Is this whole thing useless?” He locks up his locker and stands there in front of me like he’s staring at his dog that just got run over. Shit, who am I to doubt his dream?
“Hell no.” I jump up and slap him on the back. “You have to believe that you have this up until that last touch of the wall. Half the battle is in here.” I press my finger into his chest. “You have to believe in yourself because you’re the only one who can set the drive that leads you to success.”
He stands there like a lump on a stick. No enthusiasm. I guess he isn’t Greg’s double, because that man led our pep talks before meets. “Come on, get psyched up.” My shoulders rise and fall fast as the buzz of excitement fills my body. I shake out my arms and legs.
Cayden tries to mimic me, but I’m not sure he’s feeling it, so I stop looking like a moron in front of him.
“Do you want this?” I ask the question I’m not sure he’s asked himself. He’s acting like a six-year-old on the t-ball field because his parents signed him up. At some point, you have to find your own love of the game to keep going.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” I mimic his meager answer. “I didn’t ask you if you’d like beer. Do you want to make the team?”
No answer. Instead, he sits down on the bench and his head falls into his hands. “I do, but I’m scared.”
My excitement falters. I sit down on the opposite bench and wait for him to give me more information. When I don’t ask any more questions, his eyes peer up at me. “I’m scared I’ll be a failure. That I won’t be what Greg was and I’ll disappoint my whole family.”
I nod, understanding the pressure of other’s expectations. That pressure might be the reason I’ve fucked up the majority of decisions in my life. “Let’s say Greg was with us, would you want to make the team?”
His eyes widen and he nods as frantically as a bobblehead. “Yeah.”
“Then that’s it. I hate to say this, but Greg has to be an afterthought. Believe me, he’s watching and he wants you to succeed in whatever you want to do. You aren’t going to disappoint him if you lose your spot on the team, but you will if you don’t try and be honest with yourself.”
Shit, I’m surprised by myself. I’m usually not the one spouting advice, but rather I’m on Cayden’s side of this conversation.
He nods, but his eyes are shifting everywhere but at me.
“So, let’s get out there before we lose our lane time.” I stand, positioning my cap and goggles on my head.
“Okay.�
��
“All right, I’m going to need more excitement. Maybe you need some music to pump you up. I’m going to send over a playlist for you that is mandatory for you to play on your drive here. Got it?” I eye him and he nods. He’ll agree to anything right now. I’m familiar with the desperate shoes he’s in.
We enter the pool area and the chlorine smell generates a fast pulse in my veins.
Wes is sitting at the table, his foot bouncing a mile a minute while he jots something down on the paper. “Hey, Wes,” I say and he startles.
“Shit, you scared the crap out of me.”
“It’s quiet in the morning.” I inspect the pool area, noticing not one person in the lanes. I thought for sure it’d be packed. “Where the hell is everyone?”
He shakes his head, his eyes closing briefly. “Not here.” He glances at Cayden. “You’re from Michigan, right?”
“Yeah, Cayden Mendes.” The polite kid holds out his hand.
“Brad told me about you. Good luck, man. Coach Kass is hell.”
We laugh, all well aware of Coach Kass’s intolerance to anything that jeopardizes his team’s standings.
“Hey, Cayden, why don’t you go dip in and warm up a little. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure.” He moves to walk away, but turns back. “It’s nice to meet you, Wes.”
Wes glances up from his papers, and from what I can see, there’s a bunch of numbers scribbled on a spreadsheet. I’ve seen the look of panic on many faces during my internship at Lincoln, and Wes is baring a similar expression right now. Something is wrong with Creadle’s Aquatic’s future.
“You too, Cayden.” He smiles and most would believe everything to be all right. Hell, I would have, if he didn’t appear so stressed out with the piece of paper in front of his face.
I watch Cayden move to the pool, and once he’s out of earshot, I sit on the chair next to the table, pretending to reposition my goggles.
“What’s going on?” My eyes gaze down and then back to him.
He flips over the sheet, leans back in the chair, and crosses his arms over his chest. Should have known he wouldn’t make this easy. He has pride, and I get that.
“Nothing. Just going over some stuff. So, you think this kid’s got a chance to make the team?” Wes had been recruited with a scholarship just like me, so we’re not completely familiar with the ‘your position is on the line’ crap like Cayden’s facing, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any pressure to hold our spot.
“I’ve never seen him swim.”
Wes’s eyebrows scrunch together.
“You’re kidding me?”
“No, he asked me for help and I agreed. His brother was one of my teammates. He passed away.”
“I gotcha. Maybe I’ll head over and look in on you guys in a little bit. See how you’re doing.”
I stand to leave him to his secret paperwork. “That would be great. I’m kind of helping him with shit Tanner and I did all our life.”
“It worked for both of you, so I’m sure it will for him.”
“Yeah. I better get going.” I walk away, but back step to him. “Wes.” He flips the paper back over and practically throws himself on top of it. “If you ever want help with the business paperwork, just ask.”
He shakes his head vehemently. “No, no. Everything’s fine, Brad. But thank you.”
“Okay, just thought I’d mention it. You’ve done so much for me.” I try to spin it so he doesn’t feel bad or embarrassed. They taught us at Lincoln that was half the battle in fixing people’s business.
“Thanks,” he says and stares at me until I leave.
I walk on the dry tiled floor, bare of any puddles due to the fact that no one has been here since last night. Not a good sign. It’s a rarity to not have your feet get sloshed on your way to the lane. I only remember experiencing it in the early dark mornings Coach Kass would make me come in before everyone else to penalize me because I made a bonehead decision. I didn’t mind though because there’s something serene about knowing your body is the first one to break through the water, though.
Cayden is moving back and forth across the pool with little wake from his feet, his arms gliding well, but there’s something odd with his form. Continuing to watch him, I analyze each stroke until I discover his hiccup. It’s so minor I see how it’s been missed all these years.
I blow the whistle and slide into the water in the lane next to him. The warm water swarms my body and I’m quickly back in my element. Cayden stops at the wall and lifts his goggles. His chest heaves, his lungs fighting for a breath, and I’m worried that, if he’s this winded from a few laps, he’ll never make the butterfly.
“Endurance is your friend,” I remind him of a phrase he’s heard before. If you aren’t in the pool, you should be at the gym or out on a run. Your lungs have to get the work-out they deserve to keep you going in the pool.
“I’ve been working on that.”
“If you don’t, you’ll be out for sure. You just have to beat the other guys.” Cayden nods, and I’m not sure this kid will ever argue back with me. “I think I see something you need to adjust. So, we’re going to perfect that today.”
“Okay.”
I move into his lane, helping him get into form to show him exactly where his issue lies. Cayden is very responsive, which is nice and makes the training easier for both of us.
For the next hour, we repeat his freestyle. Each time, he’s shaving a little more off his time. The only problem is I don’t know who the slowest and fastest guys currently are on his team, which is information I’ll need to know in order to figure out if he’ll be ready by next week. Wes never comes over, and it’s probably for the best. Cayden appears to get intimidated quickly, which isn’t going to benefit him.
We’re walking back to the locker room when I spot my swim lesson coming in. Damn, Quinn the nanny. She eyes me and Cayden in our spandex shorts, her eyes zooming in on the crotches.
“Brad.” She stops us at the sign-in table. “Ava, has been begging for you all day.”
“That’s great.” I ruffle Ava’s hair and she beams up at me. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
“I’m Quinn.” She holds her hand out to Cayden, twirling a strand of her fire-engine red hair around her finger.
“Oh, uh . . . I’m Cayden.” He eyes me, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. He likes what he sees, and if I was nineteen, I would too.
“Are you an instructor, too?” Her eyes light up, and I fear if he said yes, I’d be replaced. Which wouldn’t be bad, except it doesn’t bode well to have an open spot on your schedule.
“No, I’m a student at Michigan.” Cayden’s honesty amazes me. I’m not sure the kid has any game.
“Cayden’s on the swim team up at Michigan. I’m just training him, but he doesn’t need much help because he’s so exceptional. You know those natural athletes.” I shrug and her eyes drink him up like he’s her breakfast latte.
“Oh.” She steps closer and fear strikes Cayden’s eyes. I push my hands down in the air to signal him behind her back to calm down. “So, Cayden, do you have a girlfriend at Michigan?” Her nipples have to be touching his wet chest right now, and I’m half tempted to cover Ava’s eyes from seeing an NC-17 rated ‘Nanny Goes After Super–stud’ episode.
He swallows hard, his eyes fixated on her tits. “Um . . . no.”
“Oh.” She steps back and her tongue snakes across her lips. “Maybe I’ll see you around here sometime.” She grabs Ava’s hand and moves across the floor to the bench. “We’ll wait over here, Brad,” she calls over her shoulder, giving Cayden one last examination.
I clasp him on the shoulder. “Looks like you have an admirer.” I toss my head in Quinn’s parting direction.
“Man, I’ve never had a girl come on to me like that before.” He shakes his head while his eyes keep trying to sneak peeks at her.
“Not all are as forward as Quinn.” I change the conversation to what matters in Cayd
en’s life. “So, I need you to get me the times for your competition. Does Coach still post it as an incentive?”
“Yeah, I’m usually at the bottom.”
“Not for long. I promise. Bring that in tomorrow. Same time. If you can squeeze some time in after practice today, try to get into the groove with the position of your arm. The faster your body figures out the new movement, the better off we’ll be.”
He smiles, but still has that panicked look splashed across his face. “Okay.”
“Hey, relax. We’ll get you there,” I assure him, and I think by me saying it, he’s starting to believe it.
“Thanks, Brad.”
I wave off his gratitude.
“I’m happy to do it.” Truth is, it feels good to help someone. Reminds me of when Tanner and I would beat our records practicing and how much we’d celebrate. Usually by moving over to the diving boards and doing some crazy dive that could have seriously injured us. “Now, go and don’t think too much about it. Just get done whatever you need to.”
“Okay.” He shoots one more look at Quinn, his eyes studying her up and down, and then nods his head her way. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the kid does have game.
Cayden leaves and Cami barrels though the side door, skipping to something streaming through her beats. She waves enthusiastically.
“Hey, I need to talk to you.” Her finger jabs my shoulder and intrigue sets in me. She spots Quinn on the bench. “Later, after lessons. But did you really think you could hide it from me?”
I hold up my hands while slowly backing away from her toward the lesson pool. “I’ve never hidden anything.”
“Omitting is lying, Brad.” She shakes her head and rushes into the office.
I turn on my heels to start my lessons for the day.
Four hours later, my body is a prune, not that I care much. I’ve grown used to the wrinkles on my fingers and the bottom of my feet. Cami’s in the office reading on her e-reader with her feet kicked up on the table.
Love Rekindled (Love Surfaced) Page 17
