A Devoted Heart (The Heart's Temptation Series Book 2)

by Genevieve Matthews

  “So how long do you think you’ll be staying? Training camp starts in July? You’re taking a break before things get crazy again?”

  “You could say that. A really long break.”

  “What do you mean a really long break? What happened?”

  “I’m done, Catey. I’m done with football.”

  Chapter Five

  Brogan

  It’s the first time I’ve spoken those words out loud.

  I’m sure I’ve been in denial about it. Part of me has been hoping that the doctor will call me and apologize profusely, admitting that he was looking at the wrong set of X-rays all along.

  But I felt the truth inside. I knew it from the moment I felt my knee go when I was hit across the legs during a tackle.

  The game was on the line, we had to stop the other team from getting the first down. There’s no one to blame. And hell, we stopped them. They ended up having to punt.

  “How long ago did it happen?” Cate’s question brings me back to the here and now. She locked up the shop and now we’re walking back to her place. It’s late in the day and the sun setting behind the buildings downtown paints everything in a soft golden light.

  The air is thick with moisture, however, and it makes it hard to take a breath. There isn’t as much as a faint breeze to stir a single leaf on a tree. I can already feel the beads of sweat rolling down my back. Hopefully it isn’t too far of a hike or I’m going to be in need of a cold shower.

  “It was about seven months ago. Luckily it was the second-to-last game of the season.” I stuff my hands in my pockets as we continue our walk. Our pace is slow and I’m thankful for it. Even after the surgery and recovery time, my knee still aches after I’ve been on it for too long.

  I find myself studying the cracks in the sidewalk and noticing the green weeds that have begun to grow through them. “I figured they’d fix me up like they did the other times and I’d be good to go by pre-season games. But the surgeon said I’d never be back to functioning like I did pre-injury and I don’t know a professional team out there that’ll take a million-dollar chance on you when you aren’t guaranteed to perform.”

  After a pause, maybe waiting to make sure I was finished, Cate says, “I’m so sorry, Brogan. I know how much football meant to you. How much it still means to you, I imagine.”

  At this point I feel uncomfortable when people give me their sympathy for the situation in which I find myself. It still feels too soon, though I don’t think it’ll ever feel right. But coming from Catey, someone who has been one of my closest friends for most of my life, it feels sincere. Still, all I can manage is a simple, “Thank you.”

  We walk the last few blocks in a comfortable silence and then we’re standing in front of an old, two-story brick building. It’s only about a ten-minute walk from the coffee shop.

  “Here it is,” she says as she pulls her keys out of her purse and starts up the steep concrete steps to the front door. I’m instantly struck by how unsafe the building is. The windows are old, probably the same windows that were put in when it was built one hundred years ago. I imagine how easy it would be for someone to jimmy with the lock and be inside before anyone noticed a thing.

  Cate has her key in her hand to unlock the front door but when she reaches it she mumbles, “Damn it, it’s open again.”

  “How many people live here?” I ask as I join her at the door. There are four buzzers next to the door, but I only see two names. Mercer and Platsky.

  “Just me and Mrs. Platsky.”

  “Not down here, I hope.” I point to the door of the first-floor unit on the left. “Please tell me you don’t live in that one.”

  “No, I’m upstairs actually. Why?”

  “Why? Because your landlord might as well hang an invitation on the window. ‘Please rob me, security in this building is a joke.’” I hold up both of my hands like I’m reading the words on a banner. Cate laughs but I don’t mean for it to be funny.

  “Stop it. I can’t imagine anything like that happening here in Winterhaven. Back in the city, sure. But not here.”

  I’m following her up the stairs on our way to her unit. The wooden steps creak under the weight of our steps as we wind our way up. There’s a bit of a smell that I can’t quite place. It isn’t bad necessarily, although it seems out of place. It’s a damp smell like we’re walking into a basement.

  “So you and Mrs. Platsky both have a second-floor unit.” Cate has stopped in front of her door and is wiggling the key in the lock. Mrs. Platsky has a fake wreath of flowers hanging from a plastic hook at the top of her door.

  “Yes. If I’m going to rent, I need a second-floor unit.” The key has finally turned in the lock and the cool blast of air that hits me from inside is like taking a dip in an ice bath after a hard game.

  “One of the apartments that I lived in when I was in college had paper-thin walls. I could hear the phone ring upstairs like it was in the room with me. She had a treadmill that she’d run on and I honest to God thought one day it was going to fall right through the floor into my living room.”

  “Yeah, college housing is a joke.”

  “I’m sure they hooked you up somewhere pretty nice, Mr. Full-ride, football-scholarship hot-shot.” She tosses her keys and purse on the table and walks into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Wow, ‘football-scholarship hot-shot,’ I never knew you had such a high opinion of me. And yes, I’d love something to drink. I can’t handle this heat; I’m about to pass out on the floor over here.”

  She pulls out two cold bottles of beer, kicks the refrigerator door closed and opens the drawer to pull out the bottle opener. There’s a picture of a skinny chef with a long, thin, black mustache and a huge pot of soup hanging on the wall above the stove.

  “Here you go,” she says as she hands me the beer. I bring the bottle to my lips and take a long draw, letting it cool me from the inside out. The last light of day slips from the kitchen window and I’m struck with this feeling that I’m falling out of control when her blue eyes catch mine.

  “Thank you. This hits the spot.”

  Her apartment is small but cozy. I feel confident stating that this place represents her perfectly, even though it has been years since I was drafted into the NFL and we lost touch.

  “So…are you sure you about this? Me staying with you, I mean. I don’t want to impose. And you know I can afford to stay in a hotel.”

  “Of course I’m sure. I’m happy to have you here. It’ll give us a chance to catch up. Besides, the next closest hotel would still be quite a drive for you. This will be much more convenient.”

  “Thanks. It’ll be fun.”

  She moves to the couch while we’re talking and I watch her before I follow. I can’t help thinking that not everything is like old times. Her curves are soft and they catch my eye when she moves with such confidence around her home.

  For a moment I’m overwhelmed with a sense of regret at how many years I’ve gone without having this woman in my life. Wasted time. Memories from the most important time in my life, but she isn’t in them. And I only have myself to blame.

  Chapter Six

  Cate

  The night passed uneventfully. After I brought out a pillow and extra blanket for Brogan, he settled in on the couch and I retired back to my bedroom. I could’ve stayed out and hung out with him, but I needed time to process everything that happened.

  The day has been quite the whirlwind. I started the morning in a funk, trying to convince myself that this forever crush I have had on Brogan needs to end. And then the next thing I know he’s standing in my coffee shop and I have somehow invited him to stay with me.

  The bedroom door is closed tightly behind me and I’m finally able to take a deep breath and relax. I change into my pajamas and then walk into the tiny bathroom connected to my room to wash my face and brush my teeth. I can’t help thinking that I might be a bit crazy.

  What would Bree think if I to
ld her that Brogan showed up in town after all of these years and now he’s staying on my couch? The bottom line is that I may have grown up with Brogan, but I haven’t seen him in years. Is it possible that he’s still the guy I know? Because every time I look at him, I know he’s still the guy that I love.

  Sleep will be impossible if I keep debating my actions in my head, so I stretch out in bed and grab the cozy mystery that I’m reading off of my nightstand. I get lost in the story and when I can hardly keep my eyes open, I turn off the light and go to sleep.

  Downtown Winterhaven is already bustling with people when we get to Main Street around eleven o’clock the next morning. It felt sticky as soon as we walked outside so I’m dreading how hot it’ll be in a few hours in direct sunlight.

  I knew I was trying too hard when I went through three different outfits this morning before deciding on the navy-blue sundress with small, yellow flowers that I’m wearing. It was all worth it when I walked out of my bedroom and caught the glimpse of desire in Brogan’s eyes.

  I thought it would make me feel better knowing that he must have feelings for me, but actually I’m feeling more confused about the whole situation.

  “Wow, there’s a band set up already jamming out over there,” Brogan says as we stop at the end of Main Street to see where we’d like to go first. I find myself admiring how handsome he looks in his cargo khaki shorts, white polo and black flip-flops.

  “That’s right. The live music is what takes the whole experience to the next level.”

  “This isn’t what I expected. It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

  “Yeah, it gets bigger every year. Winterhaven is really growing.” We start walking up the street. The white booths with the craft items and art are set up on both sides while the food vendors are all in the middle. I stop when silver catches my eye from the jewelry all set out in one of the booths.

  I lean down and look closer at all of the pieces of handmade earrings, bracelets and necklaces. There are some beautiful pieces made with different colored stones and silver wiring. For now I look and move on. I need to see all of my options before I commit to a sale.

  “Are you hungry yet, or do you want to look around for a while?” I ask.

  “I’m up for anything. The food smells amazing so I’m ready to sample it whenever you are.”

  “Well let’s start there,” I say. We walk over to look at the menus to see what each booth is featuring for today. “They’re sample-sized so you can try as many different foods as you want.”

  “I want to try a lobster roll first. You want one?”

  “Oh yeah, that sounds delicious.”

  We get in line, standing next to each other. When we get to the front, Brogan orders two lobster rolls while taking out his wallet.

  “Here,” I say, nudging him and handing him a ten-dollar bill from my purse.

  “Stop it,” he says, pushing the money away. “No arguing. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay.” I reluctantly put the money back in my purse. “Thank you,” I say as he hands me the lobster roll.

  “Now we need to decide what to get to drink to wash this down,” he says.

  “This way.” I lead the way toward the beer tent.

  As soon as we walk inside, Brogan hands me his lobster roll. “If you’ll hold this, I’ll go get us some beers.”

  “I can handle that,” I say, taking his lobster roll and waiting at the back of the tent while he disappears into the crowd.

  I’ve only been standing here for a minute when I hear my name. I look up to see Jake Ballard walking toward me with a beer in his hand.

  “Jake! What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I thought I should come to Winterhaven to see what all the fuss is about. You and Bree seem to love it so much. I can see why today,” he says, holding up his beer and taking a drink.

  “That’s so great,” I say. “You chose a really good weekend to come. Are you here by yourself or did you come with someone?”

  “It’s just me. How about you? Can I get you a beer and walk you around for a while?”

  Before I can answer, Brogan walks back through the crowd with a beer in each hand. With some finagling I manage to hand him back his lobster roll and take one of the beers.

  Once we’re situated I say, “Brogan, this is Jake Ballard. He went to Highland High School with us.”

  “Oh, cool,” he says. He holds the plastic cup in his mouth with his teeth in order to free a hand so he can shake Jake’s hand.

  They shake hands and then Jake says, “Well I’ll leave you guys to it. Enjoy the day.”

  “Thanks, you, too,” I say.

  He walks away and a moment later disappears into the crowd of people moving through the street.

  “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” he says. I can tell he’s teasing by the wink he gives me.

  We walk to an area in the grass where people are sitting down to eat their food and enjoy the sights. We both sit down and set our beers in the grass so we can finish the delicious, buttery lobster roll.

  Even with all of the people around us, there’s an intimacy to our situation. I have nervous butterflies in my stomach as if I’m on a first date. I’m not used to having these feelings around Brogan. It must be the time that has passed since we’ve hung out together like this.

  “Have you thought about what you’re going to do now that you won’t be able to play football again?” I’m hesitant to ask him any questions about football. I’m not sure how fresh of a wound this is for him.

  “I’m keeping my options open right now and following some leads. I don’t have to work right away, but I’d like to. Hopefully something to keep me involved with football and keep me busy in general. It’s good for me.”

  “I can always hire you at the coffee shop,” I say.

  He laughs and I’m glad bringing up football hasn’t soured his mood. “I appreciate that. I don’t know that I’m the best guy for that job, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  I wash the last bite of my lobster roll down with a cold sip of beer. “So how have things been for you over the last how many years since we’ve seen each other?”

  “Things have been good. A lot different from life in Highland when we were growing up. I mean, everything moves a lot faster. The lifestyle is really different. I think that’s why I lost touch with a lot of friends from high school. Everything became about football. If I wasn’t at football practice or traveling for a game, I was hanging out with my teammates. It was all-encompassing.”

  He takes a drink from his beer and then looks right into my eyes. “I regret losing touch with you. The good memories I have from growing up all include you.”

  He reaches over and squeezes my hand. His charming words and handsome features are pulling me back in. I need to remind myself that he’s here for the weekend and then he’ll be out of my life again. Brogan has never been the type of guy to commit to anything other than football.

  “We had some good times, didn’t we?” I say. I squeeze his hand back and then stand up. Pulling up on his hand to help him up I say, “Come on, lets go see what else we can sample.”

  Instead of letting go of my hand, he holds onto it as we walk back onto the sidewalk. My heart does a flip in my chest and I can’t keep the smile off of my face.

  I turn to throw my napkin into a garbage can and catch another glimpse of Jake behind one of the tents. I go to wave, but he has already disappeared by the time I raise my hand.

  Chapter Seven

  Cate

  September 1999

  So far sixth grade has felt like any other year. I thought it would be different now that we’re the big kids of the school, but it isn’t. The only thing that seems different is the amount of homework I’m bringing home each night.

  I’ve already finished my math homework and need to read the book I chose from my book bag. Then I’m going to head next door to see what Brogan’s up to.

  Now that
it’s the end of September, the nights are starting to cool down. I have my window open tonight and there’s a breeze coming through my window, carrying the promise of fall.

  I’ve pulled out my book, Matilda by Roald Dahl, when I hear the smack of hands catching a ball in the backyard. A few seconds later, I hear it again. My thoughts are confirmed when I see a football land in our backyard and Brogan runs to get it.

  “Looks like you’re a little rusty, Dad,” I hear him yell.

  Dad?

  There’s no fighting the need I have right now to check out what’s going on. I could care less if I’m being nosy. I grab my book, pull a sweatshirt over my head and crawl through my bedroom window into the backyard.

  “Hey, Brogan!” I yell and wave, noticing that it is indeed his dad playing catch with him right now. It looks like hell has frozen over. “Hi, Mr. Lockwood!” I walk past them into the lot behind our houses that remains empty after all these years.

  What was once our secret fort has now become the best tree for climbing and leaning against when I need an escape. Tonight I sit down and lean against the indent in the trunk that curves around my body and pull out my book to start reading. I try to concentrate, but I can’t stop sneaking peeks at the scene in front of me.

  Brogan’s eyes are bright and his smile never leaves his face. It breaks my heart. I know all too well how this is going to end. I imagine he knows, too, but he’s alive in this reality right now.

  They play for about fifteen more minutes. I don’t get very much done in regards to my reading assignment, but I want to enjoy this time with Brogan, too, even if it is from a distance.

  At one point during their game he looks over and gives me a small wave, his hand down by his hip. I fan my fingers back with a smile and pretend to get back to my work.

  The last rays of soft light from the setting sun are splattered through the trees, making shadows that dance with the breeze. There is a distinct smell of smoke in the air tonight, as well. The smell of something burning, most likely a pile of leaves.