Page 128 of The Way We Touch

“It’s not corny.” My voice is warm. “It’s what I want to be.”

She blinks a few times, her soft brow furrowing. “I hope you didn’t retire just for me, although I’m glad you did.”

Tightening my arm around her shoulder, I hug her closer. “I did it for us. I’ve achieved everything I wanted. I set records that will stand for a while, and I was recognized for it.” I glance at the trophy lying on the seat. “I didn’t want to take the risk of another bad tackle, and I didn’t want to go another season separated from you like we did last year. I chose you, but I also chose us.”

By May, Dylan wraps up her first year of teaching. Mia got invitations from her top three ballet programs, including the American Ballet Theatre in New York. At her graduation, she made a special speech, where she thanked my girl for helping her get there, for being an inspiration, and for showing her what it means to be strong.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Walking through the house before heading to the restaurant, where everyone’s preparing for another wild Dare night, I take a minute to call my dad.

“This is unexpected.” His low voice is surprised, and I hear his hesitation.

By contrast, I’m fully confident in what I’m about to say.

“I’d like to start by apologizing for not being ready to forgive you at the hospital last year. Thank you for being worried about me and for making the effort to extend an olive branch.”

“Okay…” He takes a breath. “Apology accepted. And congratulations on winning player of the year.”

“Thanks.” This is feeling better already, and with a smile, I say a silent thank-you to Miss Gina for insisting it’s never too late to forgive.

“I’d like to work with you, Dad—just not in the way you described. There’s an old radio station here, and I just closed on the paperwork to purchase it.”

“You did?” More surprise.

“It’s a good station with a strong AM signal. I’d like to affiliate with your network and use it to broadcast interviews with local sports heroes and celebrities in the region. We could do some sports talk and basically see where it goes.”

He doesn’t answer, so I finish. “I think it’s a good idea. Don’t you?”

“You’re certainly qualified.” Hearing him say that, after how long he dismissed my degree, goes a long way to erase the bitterness in my chest.

“I’ll write up my proposal and send it to you.”

“I look forward to reading it.”

We disconnect, and I nod. It’s the first step in our next great adventure, but first, I have to get down to the restaurant and see what my girl is cooking up for her masochistic, fire-eating fans.

A cheer rises from the group the closer I get, and I hustle the rest of the way. When I open the door, I’m confused to see Craig standing in the center of the room holding the mic like he was caught mid-announcement.

His cheeks are bright pink, and an embarrassed smile is on his face. He covers his eyes with his hand, and a guy I don’t recognize pulls him into a big hug before planting a big, sloppy kiss right on his mouth.

“Whoa!” I shout, laughing and clapping along with the entire room.

Allie grabs the mic from Craig’s hand. “I’m not sure if tonight’s recipe will top that on the Scoville scale, but we’ll see!”

Dylan stands in the doorway to the kitchen with her hands on her cheeks, and she’s smiling as well, her eyes misty.

I hustle over to her, pulling her close. “What the heck did I miss?”

“Closeted Clint just professed his love for Craig in front of God and everybody! Isn’t it wonderful?” She throws her arms around my neck, and I lift her off her feet.

“Absolutely, and you’re going to have to catch me up. Who’s Closeted Clint?”

“He’s going to be the florist for our wedding!” She kisses my lips. “Now help me bring out the rest of these fried habanero poppers.”

Allie announces the usual warning, and as soon as she’s done, the PA system starts blasting “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer.

It’s an oldie but a goodie, and as the girls dance on the bar, my beautiful fiancée kicks off her flip-flops and hops up there with them.

Her eyes are on mine as she rotates her hips, and her long hair dances in waves around her shoulders. Her red toenails taunt me, and my fingers curl when she shakes her cute little round ass in those cutoff blue jeans.

I’m the luckiest guy in the world getting to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s barefoot and beautiful, a little piece of spicy-pepper heaven. She’s dangerous and everything I’ll ever need, and together, we’re the family I’ve been searching for my whole life.

---