Page 18 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“Ellie, wait—” I call after her, but she’s gone, the screen door slamming behind her. I feel like a monster for barking at her. Sometimes, it’s a fine line–consequences.

The vase has no sentimental value. Ellie is excited to have Jake around. I suppose it’s normal for her to forge a bond with him. I know he’ll eventually be returning to his career, and I’m afraid Ellie will be devastated when he leaves.

I might be too. He’s sweet, his body was built for sin and he’s easy on the eye. I haven’t had a crush on a man in years. It’s a small town, so my options are limited. There’s no sense in dating someone from the city. I love it here–it’s our home.

I sigh, turning back to the mess at our feet. I duck into the hall closet and grab a broom and dustpan. Jake stands when I return and steps closer, his expression shifting to something gentler.

“Let me,” he says, grabbing both. His voice is low but insistent.

“I’ve got it,” I reply quickly.

“Sam,” he says, his tone calm but firm, “just... let me help. If you can take care of the water, we’ll have it cleaned up in a minute.”

The tattoos on Jake’s arm catch the soft lightof the morning sun. Reluctantly, I release the objects to him and duck behind the counter for a towel.

I kneel beside him and most of the water as he sweeps the glass and dumps it behind the registration desk.

“I told her not to play in here,” I mutter.

“I figured,” Jake replies, glancing up at me with a small smile. “But she’s a kid, Sam. They don’t always follow the playbook.”

“That’s not an excuse for breaking things,” I snap, the words coming out harsher than I mean them to.

Jake doesn’t flinch. Instead, he finishes cleaning up the water and stands, holding out a hand to help me up. I take it reluctantly, the warmth of his palm against mine making my heart skip in a way that only adds to my frustration.

“She didn’t mean to break it,” he says, his voice softer now. “She just got excited. It happens to the best of us.”

I cross my arms, staring at the now-empty spot where the vase used to sit. “She needs to learn to be more careful.”

Jake leans against the counter, his gaze steady and unyielding. “What was so terrible?” His eyes challenge me.

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “Something could get ruined, or... someone could get hurt.”

“But no one got hurt,” he points out. “It’s just a vase, Sam. You can replace it. You can’t replace her excitement, or her.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. I flinch. Damn, that’s deep. It’s unexpected. And he knocks me off my game.

“I know that. I just... don’t like chaos,” I admit quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “I need things to be... well, not chaotic.”

Jake steps closer. “Life isn’t always about the expected, Sam. Parenting isn’t. You’re raising an incredible kid, but she’s not gonna grow up to be who you want her to be if she’s in a bubble. She’s going break things, make messes, and basicallydrive you crazy. But in the end, she’ll be as independent as you.”

“I can’t just let her run wild, Jake. That’s not how I was raised,” I protest. “My sister was wild and look where it got her.”

“Maybe it’s not about letting her run wild. Maybe it’s about letting her be a kid. What happened to Ellen was an accident. A terrible accident. She loved driving fast. I don’t think you have to worry about a five-year-old driving,” he smirks, and with it, tension fades.

The foyer falls silent, save for the faint sound of Ellie laughing outside.

“Sam,” he says, his voice low and steady, “you’re doing a great job. You don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

I look up at him, and my heart is pounding for reasons I can’t quite explain. The sincerity in his eyes makes it impossible to look away, and for the first time in a long time, I feel seen. His focus is on me and I blush. I’m not used to a man being around. But it feels–nice.

“Thank you,” I say softly, my words barely above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze holding mine for a moment longer before he steps back, giving me space.

“Now,” he says, a playful edge returning to his tone. “Let’s make sure Ellie hasn’t recruited half the neighborhood for a football game.”

Despite myself, I smile. “She probably has,” I sing-song.

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