Heartland Shifters Box Set

by V. Vaughn

  Mandy nods. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “You’re right. You need to tell your ex about Daniel.”

  “Yeah…” She caps the last ketchup bottle and grabs the tray to distribute them. “But first, we’ve got a breakfast rush to get ready for.”

  She disappears into the kitchen to grab the rest of the stuff we need, and I steal a few moments to text to Lexi and let her know I went out with Alec. The truth is I need more reassurance than Mandy was able to give.

  She replies, “You go, girl! Tell me everything!”

  “Working, but we’ll catch up soon.”

  As a parting remark, she texts me a thumbs-up and an eggplant emoji.

  It makes me laugh as I put my phone away, and I’m glad that Lexi gave me the support I wanted. I adore Mandy, but she’s a touch too jaded right now, and I think that girl has to work through her issues before she starts telling me what I should do.

  Alec broke my heart, but I honestly don’t think he meant to. Not that I’m going to let the stupidity of youth be enough of an excuse, but he’s trying. And that’s what matters now. The fact he’s willing to coach high school boys, which is way below his abilities, tells me he’s trying to put down roots and start a life here. With me. And that puts a smile on my face.

  I jump when I hear the door rattle and look to see old Mr. Ruggles trying to open it. I shake my head because it’s still ten minutes until we are supposed to open. I go to unlock it anyway.

  “Good morning, Hillary,” he says as I open the door for him.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ruggles. The usual?”

  “Of course, my dear. What else would I have?”

  Chuckling, I go to get him his mint tea. I may be a bit sleep deprived, but the happiness in my heart makes me feel like dancing. I think today is the beginning of the life I’ve been hoping to have.

  Chapter 28

  ALEC

  After Hillary rushes off to the diner, I drive home. When I get into the house, I find Bruce is sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee. His eyes narrow as he looks at me. I try to ignore him, but he’s an imposing guy who is impossible to overlook.

  I ask, “What? You got something to say?”

  “Yes.” He crinkles his nose indicating he knows we had sex. “Be careful with that girl.”

  “I am being careful!” I throw up my hands. “Why is everyone so worried I’m going to destroy Hillary?”

  He stands, and his coffee cup clatters in the sink where he deposits it. “Because you did six years ago.”

  His words cut deep and piss me off. I march into the bathroom, not wanting to hear any more about the ways in which I hurt the only woman I’ve ever loved. I strip off my clothes and shower. I make the water hot enough that it scalds my skin, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

  After I dry my hair and get dressed, I look in the mirror and think about how much I’ve changed since I left here six years ago. My shoulders and chest are definitely broader now, and I flex an arm to prove my arms are too. But then I take a good look at my face. Sure, there are few fine lines around my eyes from squinting in the sun, and my beard comes in full now, but I still have that cocky grin. And my damn ego. I still look like that hotshot kid who knew he was really good, the best Heartland had ever seen. I threw sixty-yard touchdowns and won games with a cocky attitude that said nobody could touch me. I was the town’s golden boy with the beautiful girl on my arm.

  The girl who I left behind, and as I toss my towel into a hamper, it occurs to me that for all intents and purposes, I tossed Hillary aside the same way. Jesus, no wonder everyone close to us thinks I’m asshole.

  It’s time to change their thinking.

  I decide to ride my motorcycle over to the high school. I haven’t taken her out much since being back. When I park in the parking lot, nostalgia hits me right in the gut. The last time I walked on this football practice field was only six years ago, but it feels so much longer. And I’m looking at it with brand new eyes.

  The grass under my feet is softer than I remember, and as I look out at the field it appears smaller than I recall too.

  I don’t want to disturb the coach while he instructs the kids, so I walk slowly up the stairs of the bleachers, taking care not to stomp loudly enough that the sound will be distracting. I take a seat on one of the lower benches to watch. The coach shouts out a play, and I follow the quarterback in his red jersey as he takes the ball after the snap and drops back, to judge the field while looking for a man to throw to. He throws too long, and the receiver can’t get to it in time.

  I cringe a little for the kid as I remember how much missing my mark used to bother me. It was a hard lesson for me to learn. Nobody gets it right every time. It’s not that you can’t get the ball where you want it to go, or that you can’t know your players so well you have an innate sense as to how quickly they can get somewhere, it’s that you can’t predict what the other player might encounter while trying to catch your throw.

  I flex my hand as I recall the feel of leather in my palm, and my legs flex as if I’m about to crouch down to make a call. As if to remind me why I can’t, a twinge of pain radiates through my knee. It makes me scowl, hating my new reality.

  As Coach Weaver talks to the kids, he glances over my way and breaks into a smile. He says something to one of the other coaches and then jogs over to where I am. I get up to greet him on the field.

  “Alec Thompson.” He chuckles as we shake hands. “I was wondering when I was going to see you, son.”

  I nod toward the boys on the field. “Looking good, Coach. How’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain. The weather’s decent, my wife is happy, and the team is out to win a few this year.”

  I smile. “Your quarterback has a good arm.”

  “Eh, it’s not bad.” I imagine he used to say the same about me. Coach Weaver isn’t one to brag. His expression sobers. “Heard about your injury.” He shakes his head.

  “Yeah, it sucks.”

  “I imagine it does.” He scowls as he rubs his chin, looking down at my leg. “Could be worse, Thompson. At least you can still walk.”

  I believe he’s thinking about his own son, Matt, who joined the army ten years ago. He came back in a wheelchair after stepping on a land mine in Iraq and lost both of his legs. I say, “In the big picture, Coach, I’m damn lucky to have had as long a run as I did.”

  He’s silent for a moment and then asks, “You back for good?”

  “I’d like to be. Just need to find a job.”

  “Thinking about coaching?”

  “I am.”

  “It’s not a bad gig when you can get it.” He chuckles. “You don’t have to run around much, and you won’t get hit by a huge linebacker. If you play your cards right.”

  We both laugh, and I think he’s recalling the same game I am when the other team’s linebacker took out his own coach.

  It feels odd to ask Coach Weaver for a job, especially since he hasn’t offered one yet. But my pride can take a hit for Hillary.

  “Coach, that’s why I’m here. I wanted to know if you had room on your coaching staff.”

  He eyes me for a moment in consideration, probably wondering why I want to be on a high school staff when I could easily slide into a job for a pro team. He says, “I’d be thrilled to have you, Alec. But since there aren’t any openings right now, I’d have to dig into the budget to see if we have wiggle room for another coach.”

  “I don’t need much. It’s more about having a purpose each day, you know?”

  Coach sets his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I do. Hell, son, I’d be proud to have you on the coaching staff. Just give me a little bit of time to see if I can swing it.”

  “I appreciate it, Coach.”

  He tilts his head at me. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with wanting to stick around for Hillary Raz, would it?”

  My lips curve into a smile as I think about the woman I love. “It could.�
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  “Are you back together?”

  “I hope we’re heading that way.”

  He shakes his head wistfully. “Probably don’t have to tell you that you should have never left that girl behind.”

  I scratch at the stubble on my chin and sigh. “I’m aware of how much I screwed that up, believe me.”

  “Ah, son, don’t get too down on yourself. You were just a kid faced with huge decisions about your future.” He shakes his head. “If there’s any time to be making mistakes, it’s when you’re young.”

  “Well, I don’t plan on making the same mistake twice.”

  Coach nods. “Then I’ll see if I can help you with that. Call me in a couple of days, and I’ll see what I can work out for you.”

  “Thanks, Coach. I really appreciate it.” I glance over his shoulder where his team has continued making plays. “They’re looking good, Coach. Definitely a winning team.”

  We shake hands again, and he gives me a big smile. “Thank you too, son. You’ve just given me some magic I can use on this team for next Friday’s game. They’re going to be pumped to know that one of the greatest quarterbacks in the history of football thinks they look like winners.”

  “Tell your quarterback to keep working on long, too. He’s got potential.” I take a moment to watch as Coach Weaver returns to his team. The quarterback runs over to him, and after a brief conversation he looks in my direction. I give him a nod, and the grin on the kid’s face stretches from ear to ear.

  It makes me smile, and I walk back to the parking lot with hope this will all work out for the best.

  Chapter 29

  HILLARY

  I want to glare at my last table to make them leave. They’ve been ignoring their check for what feels like hours, although, it’s not true. It’s just that my shift seems unusually long today because I can’t wait to get out of work to see Alec again. I can’t stop thinking about the sex we had, and more than one customer has noticed the silly smile I have when I’m replaying it. Someone even told me I was glowing and asked if I was pregnant.

  Mandy has kept to herself day, too, and I realize work isn’t nearly as much fun when we’re not joking around. She apologized again for the comments she made, which I assured her were okay, especially since I poked my nose into her business too. But she’s still kept her distance, and I wonder if she’s worrying about Daniel’s father. I’m sure it’s a lot to process.

  “Miss!” A woman calls out to me in an annoyed tone, and I look over at my table. Figures. She’s acting as if I’m the one that’s kept them too long because I didn’t notice the second she set her credit card down. I take care of her bill with a big smile anyway, and fortunately get a decent tip out of it before I clock out to leave.

  I brought clothes to change into in the bathroom, and when I get outside the diner, I find Alec leaning up against his motorcycle, waiting for me. My heart beats faster at the sight of him smiling at me. He greets me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “I have some good news,” he says. “Well, potentially good news.”

  “What is it?”

  “I might have a coaching job at the high school.”

  My smile nearly cracks my face.

  “Coach Weaver told me he’d try to find the money to make a position for me.”

  I step in close and place a hand on his chest as I gaze into his eyes. “This is fantastic news, Alec. I’m so happy for you. They’d be so lucky to have you.”

  He smiles down at me and pushes a stray strand of hair out of my face. “We should go out and celebrate. I can take you dancing.” He grabs my hand and twirls me around. “You used to love to two-step.”

  I wince as the steps I take remind me of how much my feet ache. “I would love that, but honestly, I’m beat, and my feet are killing me after my long, busy shift.”

  “Okay.” His eyes light up. “How about dinner and a foot rub?”

  “Oh,” I let out a sigh as I think about how good a foot rub would feel. Especially one of Alec’s. Those strong hands…

  “Hill?”

  “Sorry, I was having a moment imagining your hands”—I pause to give him an evil grin—"on my feet.”

  He laughs. “How about I make you something carbtastic for dinner at my place first.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

  “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.” He sweeps his arm toward his motorcycle.

  I climb on, and he hands me a helmet to put on before we’re off.

  Riding on his bike is sexy as hell. The rumble of the engine beneath my thighs, the feel of Alec’s body pressed against mine, and the exhilaration of the wind around us as we fly down the road ignites my senses, and I’m burning with desire. But first I’m going to need food and his strong capable hands on my sore feet after my long day.

  When we get to his place and off the bike, he gives me a concerned look. “Those feet of yours really hurt, huh?”

  “It’s the worst.”

  In a flash, Alec dips his shoulder down and tosses me over it in a fireman’s carry.

  “Put me down!” I squeal and flail about, but I’m laughing as he takes me into the house.

  Once inside, he sets me down on the sofa. “Don’t you dare move.” He gives me a devilish grin that sets my body aflame. “I’m going to fill up a basin that you can soak your feet in while I make dinner.”

  He rushes off, and I work on taking off my shoes as I glance around at the house he and Bruce share. I wonder if his brother will be joining us for dinner. I got used to his gruff ways when Alec and I dated in high school, so his company doesn’t bother me, but I’d really like to have Alec to myself. I’ve got plans for that sexy body of his later.

  Country music carries to me from the kitchen as Alec returns with a basin full of steaming hot water and something that has a light lavender scent. “Epsom salt soak,” Alec says as he lifts my feet to gently put them in the water. “This should work wonders.”

  I sigh as he submerges my feet in the warmth, and I lean back on the couch to relax. A few moments later, Alec returns with a bottle of beer in his hand. He opens it with a flourish and displays it like it’s a bottle of wine in a fancy restaurant. “This was a very good year for beer.”

  “Really? What year was that?”

  He lifts the bottle and frowns at it. “Last month, I think.”

  I chuckle. “Very good month, indeed. Thank you. Just for this, I’m going to give you a really big tip later.”

  He pumps his eyebrows at me. “Can’t wait.”

  I laugh and he two steps back into the kitchen, making sure to stick his butt out a little for me. I give him a wolf whistle and call out. “Now that’s the view I’m talking about!”

  I enjoy my beer and inhale the delicious scents coming from the kitchen. When it’s time to eat, Alec serves me spicy parmesan shrimp pasta and a spinach salad. The first bite melts in my mouth and my eyes nearly roll back into my head it’s so good.

  “This is amazing,” I say. “When did you learn to cook?”

  “My first year away.” He chuckles. “Had to because I needed to eat healthy to stay in top condition.”

  “I always pictured wealthy bachelors eating out a lot.”

  Alec swallows down a mouthful of food before he says, “I did at first, but it got annoying have to wait for a meal all the time, and expensive.”

  “I can imagine.” I lift up another forkful of pasta.

  “I keep thinking about your blanket business,” he says. “How many orders do you get?”

  “About five or so blankets a month.”

  His eyes widen. “That’s a lot.”

  “I like to knit.” I shrug. What I don’t say is my social life consists of movies and knitting on the couch. But I have been struggling a bit to fulfill the demand. There are only so many hours in a day.

  “Are you making enough to quit your job at the diner?”

  “I wouldn’t ever want to quit. It’s how I socialize. And you know how I
like to be around people.”

  “I remember.”

  “But it is interesting that you ask, because I’ve been thinking about cutting back on my hours to have more time that I can devote to knitting.”

  The discussion reinforces my resolve to do just that. I like knitting blankets, and I love seeing how much new moms love them. Sometimes my customers will send me pictures of their babies wrapped in one of my blankets. It never fails to fill me with joy. Knitting is a whole lot easier on my body too.

  When Alec gets up and starts to take plates into the kitchen, I get up to help him.

  “Nope. You go sit in the living room.”

  “But you cooked. The least I can do is clean.”

  “Go.” He points to the living room with a teasing grin.

  I go back into the living room and settle on the sofa to relax while he cleans. When he joins me a few minutes later, he sits at the other end of the couch and pulls my legs up so they stretch across his lap. He grabs both of my feet, and the moment he presses his thumbs into my soles I groan and let my head drop back against the sofa cushions.

  He works for a while before he asks, “Do you want to watch a movie?”

  “Sure.”

  He takes a break from my feet and picks up the remote to the TV to turn on Netflix. “What do you want to watch?”

  I give him a look. “What kind of question is that?”

  He chuckles. “You’re right. Stupid question.” He scrolls through the movies, finds one, and pushes play. The soaring music of one epic tale about a hobbit fills the room. Alec and I have watched this movie at least twenty times, and we’ve acted out scenes in unison with the movie at least a dozen.

  Alec continues to massage my feet as we butcher the movie. When I realize that all the pain is gone, I say, “You’re magic. You could get a job as a masseuse.”

  “No way, baby,” he says, “these hands are only for you.”

  I’m pretty sure the smile I give him could crack my face.

  About an hour into the movie, Alec’s hands move up to my ankles then to my calves, massaging and caressing along the way. When he reaches my knees, I can’t control myself any longer. It’s not like we don’t know how the movie ends, and I wrap a hand around his neck to kiss him long and hard, letting him know exactly what I have on my mind.