Page 22 of Tangled with the Tight End

I’m not sure how long I can keep that promise to myself. But this is where she lives, and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

I take a drink of my wine and study the contents. “When I met Sloane, I was drunk. We’d just won our division championship game, and several of us went to a familiar nightclub in Miami. It’s one the guys went to a lot.” I set the drink down. “I rarely drank at the time and now even less. Sloane set her sights on one of the guys, me, or whoever else she could get.” I lick my lips and pause. Talking about how stupid I was, isn’t high on my list of fun activities but I need her to know.

“You don’t have to tell me.” She reaches over and pats the hand I have resting on my leg. This time, I lace my fingers through hers, and she doesn’t move.

“Yes.” I hold her gaze. “Yes, I do.”

“Okay.” Her eyes grow darker, and I fear I’m on the edge of doing something reckless. But this time, I’ve only drank half of a glass of wine.

“I have no doubt that she intended to get someone drunk and get pregnant. That night, I was the lucky one.” I laugh divisively. “And I did the right thing and married her. We barely knew each other, and that never changed. I was already obsessed with football, and she was enchanted with having and spending money. When I was traded to Kansas City, she said she didn’t want to move and uproot Gino. At least until the house sold. AndI went without a fight. I was glad to be away from her. But I left Gino behind without a backward glance.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You were placed in a bad situation, did the right thing, and you’re great with Gino now.”

“Thank you.” The earnestness in her eyes, paired with her praise, sends me spiraling further down the rabbit hole.

“I mean it.” She smiles and tilts her head, taking us both in. “He adores you.”

Fuck. I’m going to race down the rabbit hole. I stroke my thumb over her hand, causing her breath to quicken. A jolt of electricity goes straight to my dick. “My divorce hearing is in six weeks.” I lean forward almost on instinct, cutting the distance between us. Her eyes bore into mine.

“Daddy.” Gino scrambles to a seated position with wide eyes as he takes in his surroundings. “Where are we?”

Norah jerks her arm back, dislodging my hand, and clears her throat. “Gino, come with me. I want to show you the children’s book’s section.”

Thank you, Gino, for stopping me before I did something stupid. Again.

ten

NORAH

The Next Day

The second Edenopens the door, the scent of pumpkin pie and homemade bread fills my senses with delight. Delicious comfort food is one of the reasons I’ve always loved the holiday season.

Yes, I’m always surrounded by baked goods, breakfast foods, soups and sandwiches, but this is different. This is Thanksgiving food. The food you gorge yourself on once a year. I should’ve tossed on a pair of leggings instead of jeans.

Eden smiles widely with Angelo on her hip. “Come on in.”

“I’d love to.” I shiver as she shuts the door, and I unwind my scarf, quickly disrobing my outer gear.

“Are you ready to impress me with your baking skills?”

“Of course.” I toss my coat, scarf, and gloves onto a nearby chair and clap my hands in front of Angelo. “Right after I see this adorable little guy.” He giggles and lifts his arms toward me.

Once he’s settled against my chest, I sigh. Life isn’t fair. Eden didn’t want kids when we were younger, and it was my perpetual dream to find Mr. Right, get married, and have three kids. MyLeave it to Beavermoment. Okay. I didn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom, and I cuss too much to be June Cleaver. But the idea stays the same.

I wanted a dream relationship with a man who adored me and our children. At one point, I was even going to be a teacher because I loved kids so much–until a student-teacher episode turned me in another direction. I want my own children–not the weird ones that wiped their noses on my sleeves and coughed with their mouths wide open. My 17-year-old self was unprepared for that dive into reality.

I kiss his cheek loudly to a peal of laughter and follow Eden to the kitchen. Where she has his highchair decked out with snacks and toys.

Nothing turned out how we expected. Eden became the elementary school teacher, married a man she met at a charity golfing match, and is living my dream life. But being jealous of her good fortune doesn’t accomplish anything.

She crosses her arms over her chest as I continue to rain kisses on him. Angelo is different. I don’t care if I get his germs.

“Enough.” She rolls her eyes. “You spoil him with attention.”

“And you don’t?” I arch my eyebrows and give her a look.

“Fine.” She laughs and waves her hands in the air. “He’s spoiled with attention. Neither Marco nor I let him be, and his parents are on their way to town, so it’s only going to get worse. He rarely walks unless someone is holding his hand.

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