by Ava Miles
“She’s not overjoyed, but she didn’t lambast me like she probably would have done if I weren’t grieving. I connected our properties with a bridge. We can share Touchdown now.”
And other things, he hoped.
He was convinced the bridge was the key to a better life—just like he’d told her.
“Jordan said he wanted all of us to drop everything and fly out to see you when you resurfaced. Zack said he’d order us a case of bourbon. No one mentioned strippers, thank God.”
No, their group of guys wasn’t into that part of the life. When they got together, they acted like boys again, pulling more practical jokes than should be legal.
“Bourbon sounds good,” he said. “I guess I don’t need to worry about my alcohol consumption anymore.”
“Like you’d ever get drunk.”
He’d learned to stick to his limit the hard way—by puking on the high school football field the morning after a night of carousing. But losing Natalie had made him take leave of his senses for a time. He’d fought the divorce like crazy before admitting to himself that she wasn’t coming back. Then he’d chosen to numb himself with alcohol on a few desperate nights, even if it meant being sick later.
“Beyond getting Natalie back, what else are you planning to do?” Sam asked. “You always have a plan. You’ll go bonkers if you don’t have something to do.”
Most of them thought about what life would look like after football. Sure age was a factor, but every player knew injury could come out of nowhere and end a promising career. Frank Garretty had drilled that into their heads each summer. Blake could still hear his gravelly voice shouting across the freshly mowed football field in his annual speech, the one they referred to as Once Upon A Dare.
Playing professional football is not some fairy tale, boys. It’s hard, exhausting work. You’ll be tested in every way a man can be. There are no daisies and buttercups in this game. If you want everything handed to you like some princess, get off my field right now. If you’re going to play football for me or any coach worth his salt, you’re going to have to dare it all. So, here’s my challenge to you punks. I dare you to be more than you ever imagined…
If one of the campers wimped out during speed drills and made the other kids run an extra five miles after practice, that person had been dubbed Cinderella for the whole week. Jordan had even fashioned a crown once out of shoelaces and paperclips, which Coach hadn’t liked—not one bit.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually,” Blake said, “and I’m going to start a football camp for kids with intellectual disabilities. Boys only at first. I figure with what I’ve learned from your dad and my brother…” He broke off, choking on his grief for Adam.
“Adam would be proud of you. My dad too. I know I am. How can I help?”
That was Sam—always practical, always willing to lend a hand. “I don’t want to take you away from your dad’s camp.”
“Who says I can’t be involved with more than one camp?” his friend fired back. “Assuming you’re going to limit it to a week like Coach does.”
He was, but even so, he’d been reluctant to ask the guys for help. First, it was flag football. And second, working with healthy kids at football camp was challenging enough, what with the punk attitudes, horsing around, and off-the-field issues. But they hadn’t spent much time around kids with intellectual disabilities, except, of course, for Adam. And they certainly hadn’t coached them. Even he wasn’t sure how it would go.
“Thanks, man,” he said and coughed to cover the emotion clogging his throat. “Yes, it’s going to be a week. I’ve already rented a dorm at the local university here after they agreed to let me use their field.”
Okay, so it wasn’t just a vague plan. He’d drafted the whole thing while he was in Vail and then made a handful of calls with the strict understanding the discussions were confidential. The athletic director of Emmits Merriam University, Tom Hudson, was a big Raiders fan, and the prospect of helping Blake host his first football camp had thrilled him. From there, it had been relatively easy.
He and Kelly were working their way through the list of things they would need, anything from a call for volunteers to supplies. And he had a lead on some medical staff that could help out whenever a physical issue came up for one of the kids. Now that the bridge had been built, the announcement would go out today. He had made his personal plans known to Natalie. Now, he would make his next steps known to the world.
“Sounds like you’re moving forward, all right,” Sam mused. “Not that I’m surprised. You never were one to sit around. What’s your end game, Blake?”
Nothing got past Sam Garretty. “I want to get more involved with the Special Olympics.” But it wouldn’t take up all his time, and that terrified him. Natalie had a full-time job. He would need something else. “Beyond that, I don’t know yet.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Sam said. “And you know all of us will do whatever we can to help out with the camp and anything else you need.”
While Blake had played with many different guys and teams in his career, his football camp family had been a constant in his life. “Thanks, man.”
“Now, when can we come visit? I promised to call the others as soon as I heard from you.”
It didn’t surprise him to hear the other guys had guessed he’d call Sam first. Everyone knew he was the best listener of the group. “Whenever your schedule allows. I’m free.”
“Fine. We’ll come this weekend. Hope you have enough room for all of us. I am not bunking with Jordan again. That guy has more hair products than the last woman I dated.”
Jordan’s impeccable grooming was an ongoing joke in their group.
“Fine. So long as you understand that I’m going to abandon you all in a heartbeat—for a few hours at least—if Natalie agrees to go out with me this weekend.”
A rude snort echoed over the line. “She won’t. One thing I love about that woman is that she won’t let anyone rush her. She always takes her sweet time to make a decision.”
And wasn’t that ever true? Natalie hadn’t agreed to date him right away, though he’d wanted to—badly—ever since he first caught sight of her talking with one of the Raiders’ admin staff at an event she’d catered. It was the way she laughed—with such gusto that her entire body shook and her glossy dark curls bobbed up and down—that had drawn him to her. He had wanted to make her laugh that way. It had taken a while for him to win her over and convince her he wasn’t some bad boy QB who would break her heart. But even then, she’d kept part of herself closed off, distant. She’d poured so much love into him and their relationship, he’d learned to be okay with that…until Kim had died and Natalie had locked herself inside that guarded place and thrown away the key.
He’d given up for a time, but after Adam got really sick, he realized something: while all the bargaining and begging in the world wouldn’t keep Adam on this earth, he still had a chance to be with the woman he loved. And that tear at the Raiders’ dinner… Well, it had been enough to tell him what he already knew—she missed him too, and she was close to relenting.
“She’s pretty upset, huh?” his friend asked.
“Not as much as she will be when she stops mollycoddling me because of Adam.” As much as she might want to be sweet, she had plenty of piss and vinegar in her. It was something he loved about her.
Sam paused. “You know we’re here for you, right? All the way. Not just for the whole retirement thing and Adam, but for your Natalie campaign too.”
“I know.”
“I’ll call the guys then. We’ll see you this weekend. And promise me you won’t put me in a room with Jordan just because I bitched about it.”
He laughed, and it felt good. Having a guys’ weekend was just what he needed. “What did Coach always say? Never show your Achilles.”
“If you do it, there will be retribution.”
How many practical jokes had they played on each other over the years? Everything from pouring ho
ney into cleats when they were kids to driving off with someone’s new ride at a party they were all attending. But they drew the line at tampering with a man’s jock strap. Some things were sacrosanct.
“You’re on my turf, Garretty.”
“Oh, I’m shaking, man.”
He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends’ banter after his self-imposed seclusion. “Thanks for not trying to talk me out of any of this or telling me I’m crazy.”
“I hope you know I never would. Put on your dancing shoes, Ace. You’re going to be boogying to Natalie’s tune for the foreseeable.”
He couldn’t wait to match her moves.
Chapter 3
Natalie had one mission in her head when she walked back into her house. Find the salted chocolate caramels she’d hidden from herself in the laundry room. Stat.
“Your daddy…has simply lost his mind,” she told Touchdown, who trotted joyfully beside her.
Then she realized she was falling back into old patterns. Talking to their dog when she was upset with Blake, referring to him as Touchdown’s daddy. Of course, Blake had called her Mommy. This had to stop.
“Touchdown.” The dog only wagged his tail. “Get used to me calling him Blake.” She moved the liquid detergent aside and rose onto her tippy tiptoes to grab the box.
Hiding food from herself had been pathetic enough. Shoving three chocolates into her mouth at one time was a whole new level. But the chocolate tickled the back of her throat and the caramel coated her tongue, and for those few precious moments, she was lost in the thrall of the chocolate O. Blake didn’t exist. Her past with him didn’t exist.
And then it was over, and her stomach turned queasy. He was back. He was living right next door. He’d built a freaking bridge to connect them and bared his soul. Again. And he was sharing Touchdown with her.
This had to be some kneejerk reaction to grief, right?
The dog nuzzled her calf. Sliding onto the floor, the candy box still clutched in her hand, she pulled the beagle’s little body onto her lap. She petted him with one hand while using the other to deliver more chocolates into her mouth.
“What in the world am I supposed to do with him, Touchdown?” she asked, her stomach growing queasier with each chocolate.
Disgusted, she set the box aside. He was not getting to her—even though he already had. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the washing machine. Then she started chuckling to herself. What a greeting card she was: woman slumped on the floor of the laundry room with a dog, her mouth and hands stained with chocolate.
Over Your Ex Yet? It Doesn’t Get Any Better Than This.
And the girls were falling out of her robe! Again. She wondered if Blake had noticed her accidental peek-show. Then her chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. He was a guy. Of course, he’d noticed.
Pushing off the floor, she headed into the kitchen. She needed to talk this out with her two sisters. Moira and Caroline were driving up from Denver today for their standard Saturday lunch with her mom, her Hale cousins, and some additions by marriage.
Drive faster and come to my house first. I need to talk.
Moira responded.
Caroline is pressing the metal.
Pressing the metal? Colloquialisms had never been Moira’s thing.
Well, she needed to get dressed. But first she could at least get Touchdown some water. And give him a tour of the house. By the time her sisters arrived, her features were more composed. Sure, her stomach was still churning from her unplanned chocolate splurge, but she was dressed. Presentable.
The minute they walked through the door Touchdown scurried over to them, yipping with joy, and she knew the cat was out of the bag.
“Oh, you sweet boy,” Moira cooed, falling to her knees on the floor to receive kisses.
Caroline glanced around the room. “Blake’s here?”
“He paid the family next door to leave. We’re neighbors now.”
“Holy shit,” Caroline said, giving her a brief hug. “That poor guy. When I think about him losing Adam… What did he say?”
“Yeah. What did he say?” Moira said, standing with the beagle curled up in her arms.
She threw her hands out. “What do you think? He left football to win me back, and he’s sharing Touchdown with me until that happens.”
“It’s kinda romantic,” Moira murmured. “And sad. He must miss his brother terribly.”
“I know that…but even so, he can’t just move in next door. We’re divorced!” she said, hating the way her voice was rising in spite of her. Panic laced with a healthy dose of confusion.
Caroline walked over to Moira to pet Touchdown, and her sisters shared a look. Uh-oh.
“Natalie,” Moira said, putting Touchdown on the ground, “I’m sorry you’re so upset, and I wish I could say something to change that. But maybe you being upset is what this is all about. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. You need some kind of closure with him, and he obviously needs the same from you if you’re not going to be together anymore. Losing his brother probably made that clear to him.”
Her sister might as well have struck her with a baseball bat. “Look, I left Blake because he wouldn’t give me a baby. End of story. What happened with Adam doesn’t change that.”
Caroline worried her lip. “Blake came and talked to Mo and me a while ago…after you left him. He told us about the baby discussion.”
She put her hand back, felt empty space, and stepped back until she found something to hold onto. Anything. Her heart pounded in her chest, her ears. So, the ugliest lie she’d ever told had been revealed.
After Kim’s death, it had hurt too much to be around Blake, so she’d invented a plausible excuse to leave him—one she’d thought he would never be able to forgive, not in a million years. Otherwise he never would have let her leave to stew in her numbness alone. She’d picked a stupid fight about wanting a baby immediately, which he’d dismissed—as expected. As far as her family knew, it was the reason she’d left.
His words still echoed in her mind:
You’re damn right I won’t give you a baby right now. Not when you’re hurting over Kim and barely functioning. When we make a baby, it will be because we’re so excited we can’t see straight. Not out of grief.
She’d walked out on him the very next day, the horror of what she’d done burning in her belly. And it had all back-fired on her. Blake was able to forgive her anything, it seemed. It only made her feel more like the pond scum she was.
“You never said a word to me,” she choked out, her cheeks red with shame.
“You weren’t in much of a listening mood,” Moira said softly. “You were hurting. We all were. We didn’t…know how to help you and Blake.”
But she remembered her sisters asking if she was sure she wanted to divorce Blake. They’d even suggested marital counseling, which she’d refused out of hand.
“You’re on his side,” she said with a gasp of shock.
Caroline gently took Natalie’s hands. “No, we’re on yours. Always. But if we’re being honest, we both like Blake. He loves you, and deep down, we know you still love him too.”
“Don’t tell me what I feel,” she said, her hackles rising, almost like her skin had popped out barbed wire to protect herself.
“Maybe you should listen to what he has to say,” Moira said, coming to stand beside Caroline. “He left football for you, after all.”
She shoved away from them, feeling ganged up on, and almost stepped on Touchdown in the process. “I cannot believe this! Tell me the truth. Have you been in touch with Blake since I left him, or did you just talk to him that once?”
When they both looked down rather than meeting her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping to ward off the pain spreading through her gut.
“He was worried about you after Kim,” Caroline said. “We all were. So, yes, he would touch base every now and then to make sure you were okay.”
“You betra
yed me.”
“No,” Moira said in an even voice. “We never once tried to interfere with you two.”
“But you just told me this is a blessing in disguise,” she said, acid coating the words. “Was anyone else in touch with Blake?”
Her sisters shared a glance.
“Tell me.”
“I know he talked to Mom and Dad and Matt after you left,” Caroline said. “It hurt him to learn what you’d told us about your split…that it was over him not wanting a baby.”
What was wrong with him? How could he still want her back? He had to be off kilter somehow. This…couldn’t be love. “Great. So everyone knows I’m in the wrong.”
“Natalie,” Moira said, taking a deep breath. “No one’s saying that. But Blake was a part of our family for a long time, and we all lost him when you left him. You never understood that.”
“Because he was my husband, and it was my right to leave.” Why couldn’t they understand that she’d had to?
“But he was my friend, and I had a right to talk to him after you dropped him,” Moira said. “He was grieving over Kim too.”
Her cheeks burned now. She knew he had been devastated over losing Kim. But she hadn’t been able to deal with her own feelings, let alone his. “Dropped him? Is that what you think I did?”
Caroline bustled in between them like a referee between two boxing opponents who’d just crossed the line.
“Yes!” Moira answered. “He’s a wonderful guy, and as far as he’s concerned, you hang the moon. Look at everything he’s done to get you back! Look at everything he’s done for you. There aren’t many guys like that. Tell me you’re happier without him, Nat, because I sure as hell haven’t seen evidence of it.”
“Enough!” Caroline shouted, causing Touchdown to whine in the corner. “That’s enough. Everyone obviously has strong feelings about this, so I suggest we take a time-out.”
Her skin felt raw and uncomfortable, as if it had been stripped bare by the ugliness of the past. Inside she was shaking, as much from seeing Blake as from hearing her sisters tell her what they really thought of the situation. “Tell Mom and the others I’m not feeling well today.”
