Page 22 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

He has a point. Everyone talks at me or around me. Only Maggie is close enough to notice my moods—and Ellie, who is too observant.

I focus on the ground beneath my feet. “I’m fine.” And I realize this is what I always say, regardlessof how I feel.

“I have a feeling you say that to everyone and that you never stop long enough to take an inventory,” he says, stopping to face me. “I think you hold everything together and hide behind your tough exterior. I know there’s lots of love inside you. It wouldn’t kill you to let someone in.”

His gaze is steady, and he manages to cut through my defenses.

“I don’t have that luxury, Jake,” I snap, my frustration bubbles over. “I have Ellie. I have responsibilities. I have so much to do?—”

“That you have lost yourself? Or do you use it as an excuse to not give someone a chance?” he interrupts, his tone soft but insistent.

His words hang in the air between us. The fireflies blink lazily around us, the moonlight catching on his face as he watches me, waiting.

I am speechless.

And then I do something unpredictable. I let myself feel the warmth of his presence and the quiet intimacy that suggests we’re a couple. And for a second, I wonder what it would be like to be with him. He has a way of pulling me into his world where feelings are worn on their sleeve and not repressed. I’m lost in him—his smell, his deep voice, and his tantalizing blue eyes.

I panic. I’m not ready and I take a step back. “I have to get Ellie to bed.” I turn to leave.

“For the record,” he says. “life is like an everything bagel. You know upfront what you’re getting. From the nutty flavor of sesame seed to the sprinkles of flavorful spices, it has it all. It’s a reflection of life’s emotions and one’s experiences—a journey of flavor and texture.”

I pause, listening to him as he continues.

“First, you get past the plain bagel and then you get a burstof taste sensations that are behind every seed and then, one has the complete picture as they all meld together, preferably with the silkiness of cream cheese melting on my tongue. It’s symbolic of life, Sam—new experiences, you know? I just want a chance to show you what it could be like with us to give this a chance. You can add more to your life, more seeds, and more flavors. You’re special, Ellie’s special. That kiss we had was special and I can’t ignore it or my feelings for you. I’ve thought about it for days.”

“And it brought you here?”

“Yes, that and your father’s implied consent. Although I wouldn’t let that stop me if he did disapprove of us. Somethings in life are worth fighting for,” he adds, with a determined look in his eyes that makes me believe I can have more.

I glance over my shoulder, catching his playful grin, and despite myself, I feel the tiniest smile tug at my lips.

Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to like the seeds on the bagel too.

7

JAKE

The morning isbright and clear. A light layer of fog surrounds me, but I find it comforting, and serene. It adds the allure of mystery to my new environment as I stare into the horizon that surrounds the small inn which already has a charming vibe.

I felt it when I stepped on Sam’s porch. The cooler air whisps by and the dampness adds a crisp, briskness to the morning. The ambiance is fleeting because by noon it will be sunny and hot, typical of the southern sun this time of year.

Ellie skips ahead of me, and she practically drags her little backpack along the gravel path leading to the car. She hums something—probably the theme song to a cartoon she likes—completely oblivious to the little tug of unease in her mother’s expression.

Sam stands on the porch, one hand clutching a coffee mug with the word,UPand the cute dog from the movie on it, and her other hand rests on her hip. She looks at Ellie, then at me, back at Ellie, and her brows knit together as she thinks.

“I can take her, you know,” she says, her voice tight withthat nervous energy she gets whenever she isn’t in complete control.

“I know,” I reply easily, leaning against the truck and crossing my arms. “But you’ve got a busy morning, right? Prep for the lunch rush at the restaurant, invoicing, or whatever it is you do to keep this place going. I’ve got this.” I wink at her.

Funny how I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and I can see myself with them indefinitely. Sam’s lips on the coffee mug feed my salacious thoughts in my head and what I’d like for her lips to be caressing—and it’s not a ceramic cup.

Her lips press into a thin line, and for a second, I think she’ll argue. But then Ellie spins around and runs back to the porch, flinging her arms around Sam’s waist.

“Aunt Sam, please let Jake take me!” Ellie says, her voice high and insistent. “You said I could go to camp without you walking me to registration this year! Besides, I want to ride in the truck.”

Sam hesitates, her fingers brushing through Ellie’s curls as she looks down at her daughter. Finally, she sighs, her shoulders dropping just a fraction. “Fine,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “But don’t let her talk you into anything crazy.”

“Me?” I grin, holding up my hands. “Never.”

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