by Amy Andrews
A dull flush spread across Tad’s cheeks. “Oh yeah? And how long is Mr. Wonderful going to be sticking around for? Is this going to be a permanent thing?”
Jane’s brows beetled together. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “He’s from Australia. He’s here on vacation. He’ll be gone in another week or two. We’re not a…thing.”
Saying it out loud put the reality of their situation front and center. Jane had been bobbing along in her own little fantasy world with Cole—this whole house had been one giant loved-up bubble. But she and Cole weren’t anything more than a vacation from both their lives.
They weren’t a thing.
Damn it, was it only ten minutes ago she’d felt so damn light?
“Oh, okay then.” The tension in Tad’s body popped like a balloon, and that old cast-iron self-assurance she was so used to crept back into his demeanor. “Australia?” He smiled. “I didn’t know that.”
Jane rolled her eyes. For the love of… “You know, Tad, I keep praying you’re going to grow up, stop chasing something that’s never going to happen, and get a proper job.”
She knew it sounded harsh, but it was the truth. Even in their heyday, the band had only been average. Sure, they had a local following and were booked for occasional out-of-town gigs. Second-rate gigs at second-rate venues. The band had never gone anywhere because, essentially, they just weren’t good enough.
They weren’t bad—they just didn’t have that X factor.
Tad was a musician, not a performer, and she knew for a fact he’d been offered several jobs teaching music over the years and knocked them back to keep pursuing his music career.
“Be there for Finn,” she continued, “when he needs it, not when it suits your schedule. Just…spend more time with him. You’re a good dad when you’re present, and that’s all kids really need. For their parents to be present. To show up. To put their needs first. Not wander off and forget about them for a while when something shiny comes along.”
“For the tenth time, I didn’t know the gig was going to come up.”
Jane sighed at the petulant undertone to his reply as Tad entirely missed the point. She waited for his familiar refrain about how much Finn loved him and how well they got along. Which was true. But she needed Tad to be a father, not a cool big brother off playing in two-bit rock bands that were long since past their prime.
Tad didn’t, however, go down his usual route. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. You’re right. I do want to spend more time with him. I know I’m not consistent enough, and it’s not fair on you, and Finn deserves to know I take my responsibilities seriously.”
Wow. She hadn’t expected this—not after she’d been so frank about his fathering. Maybe the presence of another man in Finn’s life had given Tad pause. She didn’t think everything would be suddenly fixed, but even Tad having some insight was a giant step forward.
Not that they had time for this sort of discussion at the moment. They had to get to Denver. “Look…we can talk about this later. Right now, we’re going to the rugby. Finn and I and, yes, Cole. You are most welcome to join us if you wish, but”—she shook her head at him—“you’d better lighten up, because I will not have Finn’s afternoon spoiled by you in a snit or trying to goad Cole into a dick-measuring contest.”
Because trust me, buddy, you won’t win.
“Now…how about you reschedule the flights for tomorrow while I go and pack Finn’s stuff so he can fly out of Denver with you in the morning.”
Tad grinned. “Sure thing, Janey.”
Jane’s mouth tightened. Give the man a foot and he took a yard. “You call me that one more time, I’m going to tell your mother you screwed around on me and that’s why we split.”
Tad had begged her not to reveal the true nature of their breakup, and Jane had agreed. Mostly because she loved Tad’s parents and hadn’t wanted to make his mother any sadder than she had been. And also a little bit for the sake of harmony.
But she wasn’t his to Janey anymore.
He held up both his hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
And, for once, he actually sounded genuine.
Chapter Thirteen
“Go Ronan. Go Ronan. Go!”
Finn sprang to his feet and cupped his hands around his mouth as he cheered. He’d plonked himself on his father’s lap at the start of the game, but he’d actually spent more time standing and cheering than sitting, especially after Cole had confided he was here specifically to check Ronan out for Griff King.
Finn had been team Ronan ever since, and he was now yelling himself hoarse as the player in question ran like a bat out of hell down the field, leaving everyone to eat his dust as he ran the ball over the line.
Finn turned to Cole and said, “Try!” and they high-fived.
Cole grinned at Finn’s enthusiasm and correct use of the lingo. Thanks to the clinic he’d run last week—god, was it only last week?—an explanation of the rules and terms had not been required, although Tad had asked some questions, to which Cole had responded.
“He is so good, Cole,” Finn said, excitement shining in his eyes.
Ronan Dempsey was very good. Gifted, in fact, especially considering he’d only started playing officially two years ago, at the age of twenty-three. But he’d come far in that time and was a true pleasure to watch. Griffin King had definitely made the right call.
If they could get him. Because there had to be scouts circling.
But Cole could bring to the table what rugby in the States couldn’t—serious money. Professional rugby players in the U.S. got paid a fraction of what they were paid elsewhere in the world, including Australia, and that was a big deal. Of course, money didn’t matter to some. They didn’t want to make such a dramatic move, and they wanted to play on their home soil. And Cole totally got that.
But there was no denying the career opportunities for rugby players outside of the U.S. were immense—including, probably more importantly than the money, some of the best coaches. Like Griffin King. And it’d be a real coup for the Sydney Smoke and Australian rugby as a whole to have Ronan Dempsey in their ranks.
If he wanted to jump ship.
Which was all a very good distraction for Cole, giving him something to think about other than how this day had not panned out the way he’d imagined. He’d been looking forward to showing Jane and Finn the sport that was as much a part of him as the air he breathed.
Looking forward to it—not dreading it.
Not dreading his first rugby game since the accident. That in itself was a revelation.
But now there was this third party ruining his vision, and it totally blew. He’d imagined Finn would be sitting on his lap, or Jane’s, at least. And he’d be sitting next to them, the woman and little boy who had come to mean so much in such a short space of time. Now he was sitting on one side of Tad, and Jane was on the other, and he had no idea if she was having a good time or even paying attention.
She seemed to be clapping at the right moments and appropriately excited when Finn looked to her for encouragement, but he itched to be closer. He wanted to put his arm around her, smile at her, and explain the play as it unfolded. Hold her hand. Stroke her nape. Buy her a beer and a hot dog. Lick ketchup off her mouth. Lean in and tell her how sexy she looked with her hair down and in that navy V-neck T-shirt with tough as nails emblazoned across the front.
Not that he could do those things without Tad here, either, because of Finn, but he wanted to, because she was—sexy and tough as nails—juggling everything the way she did and prioritizing her kid over everything else. Cole could tell Tad turning up unannounced had royally pissed her off. They may have only known each other for two weeks, but he knew every single nuance of her body, and she had not been happy.
Not that Finn or anyone else looking in from the outside—possibly even Tad himself, had she not t
aken him aside for a word—would be able to tell. She laughed and joked around with Tad and encouraged interaction and conversation between Finn and his father with apparent ease.
The woman was wasted in the renovation industry when she could have been a star player in the diplomatic corp.
It was obvious she wanted Finn and his father to have a good relationship. And he admired the hell out of her for that. Too many people couldn’t, wouldn’t, and didn’t put aside their differences for the sake of their kids in these situations, and it was refreshing to see that both she and Tad made the effort to put Finn and his feelings first.
Whatever Jane had said to Tad behind that closed door had obviously stayed there.
Suddenly Finn, along with most of the other people around them, gasped. “Oh no!” he said as he stood.
Cole realized he’d zoned out for a while and refocused. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but Ronan was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, and for a moment Cole’s heart almost beat its way out of his mouth. An opponent in a number-ten jersey stood over him, and from the body language alone, Cole could tell there’d been some kind of—probably not accidental—contact.
But within seconds, Ronan had stirred and sprung to his feet, shaking himself off, giving his opponent a quick I’m-okay-mate nod of his head, and grabbed the ball, ready to play on.
“See, he’s okay, bud,” Tad said, giving Finn’s shoulder a squeeze as the crowd cheered.
Finn sat back on his father’s lap, satisfied that his hero was okay, but not before he shook his head sadly at Cole and said, “Reckon Coach King would have that man’s guts for garters if he’d hurt our Ronan.”
Jane blinked at her son. So did Tad. Then they both looked at Cole.
Pressing his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh, Cole nodded at Finn and said, “Reckon you’re right, mate,” then shrugged at Jane and mouthed “Sorry” over Finn’s head.
No more was said, but Cole knew he was going to chuckle about it later. Hell, he was going to be chuckling about it for a long time to come. And the way he’d said our Ronan, like Finn was part of this fact-finding mission, too, like they were a partnership…
Well, he’d remember that for a long time to come as well.
Another roar from the crowd dragged everyone’s attention to the play, and the last ten minutes of the game went quickly, with the Barbarians storming home winners, much to Finn’s utter delight. Tad pumped his fist in the air, and Cole realized that’s where Finn got it from as the kid followed suit, his fist smaller but no less enthusiastic.
But it was Cole, not Tad, who got the full force of Finn’s beaming smile. “That was so awesome, Cole. Can we go to another game sometime?”
A chink opened up in Cole’s heart. “Sure.” He smiled even though it felt like his face was going to crack. “Sometime.” He couldn’t bring himself to an outright no despite knowing it was highly unlikely. He had a new career to forge on the opposite side of the world.
If he wanted it.
As if Finn sensed his hesitation, he said, “Maybe after you’ve finished your job in Sydney?”
Jane, who’d been staring at her hands during the conversation, suddenly snapped her head up. “You got the job?”
Her attention was like a bolt of lightning to his chest. Cole’s gaze locked with hers. “Yeah.”
“Oh…that’s great,” she said, nodding and smiling. If she was annoyed that he hadn’t told her already, she didn’t show it, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she was hugging herself as she absently rubbed her arms. “Congratulations. You must be thrilled.”
“Hey, congrats, man,” Tad chimed in.
Cole barely acknowledged Jane’s ex or the undisguised glee in his voice. “Yeah…it’s great news.” Because he wasn’t about to admit his prevarication in front of Tad.
She nodded again but didn’t say anything as some spectators from farther down the bleachers wanted to pass, and they all stood. “We should go, too,” she said, gathering her bag. “Beat the traffic.”
Traffic was hardly going to be a problem when there’d been less than a thousand people in the crowd, but sitting around here was awkward as fuck, so…
“I’ve just gotta go and talk to Ronan for a minute,” Cole said as he dragged his wandering attention back to his purpose for being here in the first place.
“Oh.” Finn clapped his hands. “Can I come?”
“No, Finn,” Jane interjected, grabbing his arm as he made to follow, halting his trajectory. “Cole is discussing business with Ronan.”
“Oh, but Mom,” Finn said, entreaty in his voice as he folded his arms and begged her with his eyes and a little chin wobble.
It was so damn cute it almost sucked Cole’s breath away. He was going to miss this little guy like crazy. Taking pity on him, he squatted down to Finn’s level. “How about you let me have a chat with Ronan first, then I’ll wave you over when I’m done and you can meet him. Whaddya reckon? That sound okay?”
The chin wobble stopped as Finn gave a solemn nod. “Okay.”
“I bet Mommy and Daddy”—Cole was proud of the way it came out without so much of a hint of what he was feeling toward Tad and his untimely appearance—“could go and meet some other players with you in the meantime?”
The game was hardly a huge stadium event where players went straight to their locker rooms and the ground was off-limits to everyone. The players here were mingling on the field with members of the public, chatting, signing autographs, and posing for selfies with fans.
Finn looked up at his father. “Could we do that, Daddy?”
Tad smiled and held out his hand. “Of course, bud. Let’s go.”
Cole knew it was wrong to resent the other man. He was Finn’s father, and, apart from some initial wariness, he’d been fine with Cole. But in this moment, for reasons he didn’t want to explore too closely, he resented the hell out of him…
It took a few moments to get Ronan alone. He was popular with the crowd and really popular with the ladies. They wanted endless selfies, and, clearly not being a stupid guy, he obliged them all. Objectively, Cole supposed, he was a good-looking dude. He was tall and built, as were most professional footballers, his hair shaved all over to a number one, giving him a lean, kinda hungry energy. His little band of groupies had seemed to appreciate it, as they’d all asked to rub his head.
“My lucky charm,” he joked as he’d let them.
“Hey, Ronan,” Cole said, holding out his hand when it was finally his turn, resting his cane against his leg. “I’m—”
“You want to rub my head, too?” he said with a laugh, clearly cracking himself up, then stopping suddenly as realization dawned. “Oh my god. Cole Hauser?” Ronan’s face registered surprise, then creased into joy as he shook Cole’s hand vigorously. “I know who you are, man. I’ve followed your career since I was a kid.”
Cole gave a half laugh at the backhanded compliment. He could tell Ronan hadn’t meant anything by it, but hell if he didn’t feel fucking ancient all of a sudden.
“I was so bummed about the accident.” Ronan’s gaze flicked briefly to the cane, then back again. “Please tell me we’re going to be seeing you back on the pitch ASAP. I’m super stoked to see you playing for the Smoke.”
“Unfortunately not. I think my surgeon would kill me with his bare hands if I undid all his good work the first time I got tackled again.”
That’s what it had boiled down to in the end. The surgeon flat-out telling him he could walk or he could play football until his next big hit, but he couldn’t do both.
“Oh, man.” Ronan’s face fell. He was obviously devastated on Cole’s behalf, myriad emotions flitting across the younger guy’s features. Cole recognized each one, but, surprisingly, he didn’t feel them as acutely as he had. “That sucks.”
“Yeah.” It did suck. But it didn
’t feel so bad anymore.
Ronan looked uncomfortable at the calm admission. Like he didn’t understand why Cole was so accepting of this terrible rugby-less fate. It probably seemed like a fate worse than death to a guy with the world at his feet, so Ronan changed the subject. “Man…what are you doing all the way over in the U.S. of A?”
“I’m here on…vacation.”
“Yeah? Well, hey.” He clapped a hand on Cole’s shoulder and urged him forward with him. “You should come and meet the guys. They’ll go nuts knowing you’re here.”
Cole halted after a couple of paces and steadied himself, causing Ronan to also put on the brakes. “In a minute,” he said. “I was hoping to talk to you privately for a moment.”
“You want to talk to me?” Ronan’s brow crinkled. “What about?”
“About your career.”
“My…career?” he said, his expression still puzzled.
“Yeah…you know. Where do you see yourself going?”
Cole saw the moment Ronan Dempsey registered that this wasn’t just two rugby players shooting the breeze. He stood a little taller. “Is this…a hypothetical?”
He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Sure.”
Ronan narrowed his eyes. “And in this hypothetical, is this you asking, or…?”
“It’s me.” Cole nodded. “For the moment.”
“I see.”
Cole wasn’t sure if Ronan did, but he was getting there. A group of women approached, all keen for selfies and a rub of Ronan’s head, and he obliged. Cole waited patiently. It was going well, he thought. He was actually…enjoying it. Ronan finished with his fans and turned his attention back to Cole. “Where were we?” he asked.
Like he didn’t know… “Ever thought about playing internationally?”
Ronan nodded slowly, obviously considering each question now, examining it for the true meaning. “Of course. If the right opportunity came along.”
“I imagine that’s a good possibility. You thinking anywhere in particular?”
