Page 34 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“You’re welcome,” Jake says, his grin softening into something more genuine as he looks at both of us. “Dig in.”

We eat together, the kind of breakfast that’s simple but perfect—crispy bacon, fluffy eggs, and pancakes Ellie insists on overdosing with syrup.

She chatters the entire time, telling us about her plans for the day, her friends at school, and how she wants to learn to cook “like a pro” so she can open a restaurant when she grows up.

“You’re already halfway there,” Jake says, ruffling her hair. “Just remember to invite me to the grand opening.”

Ellie beams. “You’ll be my official taste tester!”

“And what about me?” I ask, pretending to be offended.

Ellie tilts her head, considering. “You can be the manager.”

“Manager?” I laugh. “What, I don’t get to cook or bake anything?”

“Nope,” she says with a cheeky grin. “You’re not as good as Jake.”

Jake laughs, and I shake my head, pretending to be exasperated. But inside, I’m enjoying every minute of the banter. The two of them act like they’ve known each other forever, and it solidifies Jake as a member of our family.

After breakfast, Jake and Ellie clear the table while I begin to rinse the dishes. The sound of their voices fills the kitchen—Ellie teasing Jake about his “terrible” singing as he hums a tune, and he’s pretending to be offended, then he threatens to withhold her bacon privileges tomorrow.

As I watch them, a smile tugs at my lips. This is what I’ve always wanted for Ellie—for us. A home filled with laughter, warmth, and love. And I’m oddly comfortable. Jake fits in our home, our lives and he’s made himself a fixture in our lives in record-breaking time.

After the cleanup is done, Jake returns to his room at the inn to dress for the beach and he mentions he’ll run into town to pick up supplies for the day.

By the time I pick up the house, make beds, and dress for the beach, I hear a horn honk. I look out my bedroom window and Jake is standing over a cooler in the bed of his truck. It looks like he found my cooler and beach supplies in the shed. I’m impressed he’s taken it upon himself to prepare for our outing. I’m excited he’s a self-starter who doesn’t need to be micromanaged.

“You ladies ready for the beach or what? Daylight is burning,” he hollers. I hear the porch door slam as Ellie runs out. Jake scoops her into his arms giving her a bear hug.

“I’m ready, Jake!”

“Sam!”

“Coming,” I yell out the window. “Give me a minute!”

I apply sunscreen and throw a knitted sundress over my bikini-clad body. I feel naked and self-conscious.

I join them by the truck. “Do you have drinks, water?”

“Yes,” he drawls out the “Y”.

“Food, umbrella?”

“Yes, yes,” he grins as he gives me a side-eye that is challenging me to discover what he might have forgotten.

“What are we forgetting?” I ask.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sam.” He opens the passenger door and Ellie climbs in.

My face is blank and I’m speechless trying to come up with something he forgot, and hechuckles. “Right.”

I can’t change being a perfectionist overnight.

“I got it covered. You wanted help,” he raises his hands at his side. “I’m helping.”

I nod in defeat. I relinquish control and decide to enjoy the day as a spectator.

We climb into the truck and head to the coast.

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