Page 75 of A Whole New Play

I continue on my way back to the seats where my family sits, preparing to watch Corey and the Texas Lonestars play in the sixth game of the World Series.

I wait until I’m far enough away to not be overheard by the teens currently recording my retreat with their cell phones before I look at Morgan over my shoulder and reply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My little sister’s best friend snorts. “Please. I know you, Jones. And I know something is going on between you and Valerie.”

I don’t want to deny it. I want to shout that I’m the lucky bastard who convinced a woman as incredible as Valerie Palmer to date me at the top of my lungs.

But I can’t.

Not yet, at least.

I have no idea where this budding relationship will go, but I do know that I don’t want to risk screwing it up before it has the chance to begin. Something tells me that sharing the news after Valerie and I agreed to keep quiet would do just that.

But I wasn’t prepared for how difficult it would be to keep my distance from her.

My entire family has made the trip up to Minnesota to support Corey. He and a few of his teammates chartered a plane to fly their families and friends up to see the potential series-ending game. I spent the entire flight resisting the urge to sit next to the beautiful nanny who came along to look after the twins. Especially when I noticed the brother of a Lonestars player flirting with her.

Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like not having Valerie’s attention.

I didn’t stop Andy and Abby from insisting Valerie switch seats to play cards with them once the pilot turned off the seatbelt light. Not my proudest moment, but I’m not sorry about it. I wasn’t about to endure two hours of watching some idiot pine after my girl.

Other than subtle smiles and fleeting glances, I’ve kept my distance when the only thing I want to do is wrap my arms around Valerie and let the world know she’s mine.

It’s been six weeks since her birthday, and they’ve been the best weeks of my life. I never knew a relationship could be this easy. Once Valerie and I agreed to date, whatever reservations we’d held onto around each other had faded in the wind. I already knew she was funny and kindhearted, but these past few weeks with no barriers between us have let me see just how amazing of a person Valerie Palmer truly is. And our personalities blend together seamlessly.

Whenever I’m too serious from worrying about Laura or my position on the Rough Riders, Valerie’s levity and good humor bring me down to enjoy the moment I’m in. And whenever her mom sends a message that threatens to dim the light she’s shined into my home since the moment she first stepped through the doorway, I remind her just how remarkable she is and not to let one person’s opinion sway her own opinion of herself.

I’ve never had this sort of connection with anyone. The physical aspect of my past relationships always overshadowed any emotional connection. Maybe it’s because Valerie and I haven’t slept together since her birthday, but something tells me even if we were regularly intimate, it wouldn’t change how I feel about her.

Neither of us had said it out loud, but it felt wrong to be intimate with the twins in the house. And with Laura back to traipsing about Europe with her boyfriend, there hasn’t been a night where they aren’t in their beds.

Maybe it’s time for a sleepover at their grandparents…

I’m still a red-blooded man.

I constantly fantasize about the young woman who helps my kids orchestrate pranks to pull on me when I get home from a hard day of practice.

The feelings I’ve harbored for the beauty grow deeper each day. It’s reached the point where I’m eager to no longer keep our relationship a secret. Which is probably why I don’t make another attempt to disagree with Morgan’s remark.

My silence fuels her suspicions.

The meddling brunette snickers. “I knew it.”

“You don’t know anything.” I’m careful not to slip on the narrow concrete steps that lead to our seats just above the visitor’s dugout.

“Sure, Carter.” I can imagine her subsequent eye roll. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about more important things? Like finally putting your dietician degree to use?” Morgan recently passed the certification to become a Registered Dietician and she’s been looking for work since the beginning of the summer.

She’s like a little sister to me, and while I enjoy messing with her, I do care about her wellbeing. I’ve been trying to convince her to let me introduce her to the Rough Riders’ nutrition team, but she refuses.

“I’ve got things under control,” she retorts. “Can you say the same?”

I scowl over my shoulder and nearly slip when the end of my tennis shoe lands on the edge of the next step. I quickly correct my footing and ask, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re playing better now than at the start of the season, but you’re hardly at your best. Maybe you should worry about important things. It may be time to revisit your nutritionist and training regimens to help reach your peak performance.”

“Damn, Morgan. Low blow.”

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