Page 23 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

Sam rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she kisses Ellie’s forehead and sends her running back to me.

Ellie chatters nonstop on the way to camp, her excitement bubbling over like a pot of water set on high after it boils. She tells me about the crafts she wants to make and explains friendship bracelets to me. She rattles off all the games she will play and how much fun it will be now that she is officially older and going to be a leader this year.

“Leader, huh?” I ask, glancing at her in therearview mirror.

“Uh-huh!” she says, her voice brimming with pride. “I know all the rules and where everything is. I can help the new kids.”

“You’ve done this before?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Yup! Every spring and summer too!” she says. “But this year is gonna be the best ’cause you’re taking me!”

I laugh softly, shaking my head as she goes on about the camp schedule, barely pausing for breath. It’s hard not to smile when she is like this—so full of energy, like the world is hers for the taking.

I feel like a dad, and I love it. I’ve always been partial to kids, but there’s nothing like an injury to make me think long and hard about my next act. I want it to be with Sam and Ellie. It wasn’t until I saw Sam at her parents’ house that she set off a spark—rather a bomb inside me.

She’s come into her own with motherhood. I know she’s the one I want to have my kids because she’s a wonderful mom. Kids were suddenly on my radar after I saw her with Ellie at the coach’s party. I want to have a family. Mothers are a noble career choice, and Sam has figured out how to work and raise Ellie. I know it’s not easy for anyone to juggle both a home and work life.

Besides her mothering abilities, Sam is sexy as hell, and she has curves in all the right places. She doesn’t seem to know how pretty she is. She’s a talented chef, and her inn has great reviews. I know her father is proud of her, and that speaks volumes—he’s a tough man to please.

I can’t imagine growing up with him as he was probably tough due to that he’s a coach and likes structure, and then there is the fact that he was away from home so much. I wonder if Sam is considering me as a fixture in her life.

Not that we have much to go on aside from the kiss, but that’s going to change. I fantasize about what it would be like tobe with her and make love to her. My cock is in a constant state of arousal when she’s in the room. I’d love to come to her after a road trip. I wonder if we’d have lazy days where we’d make breakfast for dinner?

I’d love to show her around the stadium. I could get used to weekend cookouts with my friends. She’d love the guys on the team. I’m sure with her family up there, she would adjust. She could start another inn or perhaps a restaurant.

I grin thinking about her on the porch this morning in her tight jeans, wearing a cropped hoodie, and bare feet. She loves to feel the earth under her toes. I wonder how she’d adjust to my penthouse. I’ll have to look for something more suitable if we further this relationship.

The morning sun peeks over the horizon, casting long shadows across the dewy grass. Kids have so much energy and Ellie is buzzing with excitement, but that doesn’t describe it well enough. It’s more like she’s vibrating as she hops from one foot to the other. I watch her curls bouncing like they have a mind of their own.

“Come on, Jake! We’re gonna be late!” she squeals, tugging on my hand.

I chuckle, as I help her into the truck. I make sure her seatbelt is fastened before I slam the truck’s door shut and ruffle her hair. It’s her first day of camp, and she’s been counting down the days like it’s the 12 Days of Christmas.

“Relax, champ. We’ve got plenty of time.”

I drive down a paved road and I all but miss the dilapidated wooden sign that displays “Mystic River Camp” on it.

“Here Jake!” Ellie exclaims enthusiastically. She points to the right and I turn immediately onto the dirt path that winds through a forest.

I marvel at how quaint this town is because I didn’t know places like this still existed. The air is filled withEllie’s nonstop chatter about the activities she’s excited to try—archery, crafts, and nature hikes. She’s practically bouncing in her seat, and her enthusiasm is contagious. I find myself smiling more than usual, and her energy fills up the truck with enough sunshine to light the world.

When we pull up to the camp, the place looks like it’s been plucked straight out of a postcard from the past. Old wooden buildings, weathered by time and countless summers, stand sturdy against the backdrop of towering pines. Overgrown ferns create a pathway along the pavers that lead to the main building, with its sagging porch and faded sign reading Main Hall.

Ellie grabs my hand, dragging me across the wooden floor toward the check-in table. The scent of pine needles and campfires lingers in the crisp morning air. Kids are running around, their laughter echoing through the trees, mixing with the distant calls of birds and cicadas.

At the check-in table, sits an older woman with a beehive of silver curls and cat eyeglasses perched on the tip of her nose. When we approach, she looks up from her clipboard. Her name tag reads “Mrs. Beatrice Holloway.” She eyes me up and down with an expression that’s somewhere between amusement and intrigue.

“Well, well,” she says, her voice dripping with a syrupy Southern drawl. “If it isn’t the tall, dark, and handsome stranger. I didn’t know the camp came with such a fine view,” and she drawls out the word “fine”.

Ellie giggles, and I clear my throat, trying to keep my cool.

Is she hitting on me?

“Jake Rivers,” I say, offering a polite smile. “I’m here to check in Ellie.”

Mrs. Holloway’s smile widens as she hands Ellie a name tag. “Lucky girl,” she says with a wink. “If you get tired of campfires and crafts, sweetie, your guardian can come find me.I make a mean lemonade… and I’m not talking about the drink.”

I chuckle awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. Ellie, oblivious to the subtext, tugs on my arm and whines, “Come on, Jake!”

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