Page 35 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

An hour later, we rumble down the sandy road, the salty breeze wafting through the open windows, tangling Ellie’s curls as she bounces in the back seat. Her excitement is contagious, though I try to keep my expression neutral. Jake glances at me from the driver’s seat, his tanned arm resting casually on the wheel, the other draped over the open window. His grin is lazy and knowing, as if he can sense that beneath my carefully composed exterior, I’m fighting back the thrill of something new.

“It’s been a while, huh?” he says, his voice low enough not to interrupt Ellie’s chatter about finding seashells and chasing seagulls.

“Yeah,” I admit, my gaze fixed on the slivers of blue ocean that peek between the tall grass and palmetto trees. “A long time.”

The South Carolina coast comes into full view as we crest a small dune, and the sight takes my breath away. The waves crash against the shoreline in a steady rhythm, their white crests catch the light of the midday sun. The sand stretches out like a golden blanket, dotted with tufts of sea grass swaying gently in the breeze. It’s the kind of beauty you can’t ignore, no matter how hard you try.

Ellie squeals, pressing her face to the window. “We’re here! We’re here!”

Jake parks the truck near a cluster of dunes, the tires crunching to a stop. Ellie is out of the truck in seconds, kicking off her shoes and running toward the water, herlaughter carried on the wind. I step out more slowly, the warm sand immediately sinking beneath my flip-flops. The sun is high and full, its rays kissing my skin as I adjust the strap of my woven sun hat. The ocean breeze dances across my legs, sending a little shiver up my spine. Is it the wind or the presence of Jake?

Jake pulls a cooler and a bag of supplies from the truck bed, his movements easy and fluid. My eyes flick to him without thinking, drawn to the way his board shorts ride low on his hips, the way his sun-kissed skin glows in the light. His chest and abs are chiseled, and as he turns to face me, catching me mid-stare, I quickly look away, pretending to fuss with the strap of my sundress.

“You okay over there?” His voice carries a teasing note, but there’s something deeper behind it—something warm and reassuring.

“Fine,” I say quickly, picking up the folded beach blanket to busy my hands. “Just… taking it all in.”

Jake smirks but doesn’t push, his focus shifting to Ellie as she comes running back, her feet splashing through the wet sand.

“Aunt Sam! Jake! Come on!” she calls, waving us toward the water. “It’s cold, but it feels so good!”

Jake chuckles, tossing the cooler over one shoulder and the bag over the other. “You go ahead. I’ll set this up.”

I hesitate a second with my gaze lingering on the water. Memories tug at me, bittersweet and vivid—the smell of clams steaming over an open fire, my sister’s laughter as we buried each other in the sand, the way the ocean seemed endless when I was Ellie’s age. My chest tightens, but I force myself to move, to walk toward the shore and meet Ellie’s outstretched hand.

The first rush of the ocean waves against my toes sends a gasp of surprise through me. The water is cold butexhilarating, and Ellie’s giggle is infectious as she splashes me with a spray of saltwater.

“Ellie!” I cry as the cold spray hits me but secretly, I’m laughing despite myself. “You’re going to get me all wet!”

“That’s the point!” she says, she flashes a wide and mischievous grin at me.

Jake joins us and I admire the way his long strides cut through the sand as easily as if he were walking on pavement. He wades into the water beside me, the cold surf swirling around his ankles. His presence is steady and grounding, and when a particularly large wave sends water splashing up my legs, he lets out a low chuckle.

“Cold?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

“A little,” I admit, shivering slightly but unable to stop smiling even though my nipples are peaks that press through my clothes.

Jake tilts his head, his eyes warm and playful. “I know how to warm you up,” he teases. My glance shuts him down. “Come on. Let’s walk,” he says.

He offers his hand, but I hesitate. When Ellie’s excited voice booms, “I’m coming too,” she says. At this point, I figure it’s okay for me to put my hand in Jake’s.

The three of us walk along the shoreline, the wet sand cool and soft beneath our feet. The sky is Easter egg blue and it’s a gorgeous day. It isn’t long before Ellie races ahead, darting in and out of the waves, her laughter echoes hug the shoreline. Jake and I follow at a slower pace, the wind tugging at my hat as we talk quietly.

“Did you come here a lot as a kid?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“All the time,” I say, my gaze fixed on the horizon. “My parents loved the beach. My mom used to pack these big picnic baskets, and my dad would make a fire just like you did. Mysister and I would dig for clams while the adults cooked. It was… perfect.”

Jake studies me with a soft expression in his eyes. “You miss them.”

It’s not a question, and I can’t answer right away. Instead, I watch Ellie crouch down to examine a cluster of shells, her hair wild in the breeze. “I do,” I admit finally. “Sometimes it feels like coming back here is trying to relive something I’ll never get back.”

Jake stops walking, turning to face me fully. His hand brushes mine, a small gesture, but enough to anchor me. “You’re not reliving anything, Sam. You’re making something new. Something just as good, just different.”

His words hit me in a way I didn’t expect, and the sting of tears pricking at my eyes made me look away. But then Ellie calls out, holding up a shell she’s found, the ache in my chest lightens just a little.

“Look at this one!” she says, running toward us. “It’s shiny!”

Jake crouches to examine it, his grin easy. “Looks like you found a treasure.”

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