Page 52 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

As much as I admired my sister, she sometimes scared me. Maybe if she weren’t such a wild child I wouldn’t be a control freak. I can’t remember where it started. Were we born this way or did her behavior set the tone for me to compensate for her actions? Or was it her untimely death that threw me into overdrive?

Change is tough, and for me, well, it’s torture.Who likes to change? If it were easy to change the divorce rate would plummet, and there wouldn’t be family feuds.

“Let me know if you find a sitter. Perhaps that hunk you’re banging can help out.” Maggie interjects.

“That makes me sound so…I don’t know. Cheap?” I hate to impose on anyone. Ellie is my responsibility.

“Well, I’m heading out, so text me later.”

“I will.” Maggie leaves and I hear her boots clicking on the tile as she walks across the kitchen floor. I sit, absently staring at my computer screen.

Do I ask Jake? Should I?

I click on my computer, and input orders for next week's deliveries. I’m concentrating and when I hear a soft tap on the doorframe, I all but jump out of my chair.

“Oh!” I exclaim. I look up and there stands Jake. His handsome face brings a smile to my face. “You surprised me!”

“Why do you look like you’re plotting a murder?” Jake says lightheartedly, ignoring the fact he scared the shit out of me.

My annoyance turns into an entertaining chuckle. He has a real talent for disarming me. He has a smooth demeanor that smooths over my perfectionism. He’s the fun Dad. I’m the serious Mom. So, when he pulls me into his corner, I’m disarmed by his creative fun side—mesmerized is more like it. Let’s face facts, it’s a rare occasion when I lower my serious nature enough to have fun.

Jake makes me laugh when I least expect it, and I love his one-liners. I envy him because he makes things, well— fun.

I wish I could be more like him.

I glance at Jake, leaning against the doorway, his arms are crossed, and his eyebrows are raised. His usual cocky smirk is in place. but I know he’s here for a reason.

“I’m not murdering anyone,” I argue. “I’m just… trying to figure out how to be in two places at once. You know, like Hermoine.”

His forehead furrows. Then the reference to Harry Potter hits and he nods.

He pushes his tall, lithe frame off the wall and strolls into my office. “Talk to me.”

His presence disarms me. I love his deep voice and his body is to die for. I can’t forget what it’s like to run my hands over his taut abs and thick muscles—one in particular. Wink, wink. Honestly, I’ve been insatiable because I’m addicted to him. I love his clean-scented cologne and even now, I breathe in his essence.

I hesitate but then my mouth opens and I’m talking a mile a minute, excited about the prospect of going out with Maggie overriding my overprotective nature. “It’s a big event. Like, a huge big that’s important for work. But I don’t have a babysitter.”

His mouth is agape, and he gives me a look of shock for a beat. “I’ll watch her.” He shrugs as if it’s no imposition.

I blink in surprise. I mean, it’s not unthinkable that he would want to watch Ellie. He’s basically living with us. He knows her and her routine. I shouldn’t have any reservations because he has a great track record.

But like the helicopter mother I am, I still question him. “What?”

“I’ll watch Ellie.” His tone is casual—like it’s a walk in the park. Truth be told, there are only a few hours where she will be whirling around before it will be time for her to quiet down before it’s her bedtime. He sits in a bright orange barrel chair; his large frame making it all but disappear beneath him. “You should go. I got you.” He leans forward, his elbowsresting on his legs.

Do I trust him? I have no reason not to, but still. The fear of relinquishing control gnaws at me.

A hundred reasons flood my mind with why this is a bad idea. But, before I can voice any of them, he stands and approaches me. “Sam, seriously. You deserve a night off. Go have fun. I’m sure it’s been years since you had a night to enjoy being an adult.” He pauses. “Besides, Maggie gave me the heads up. I think she’s playing matchmaker. And I know how you just love to work on your night off.” He rolls his eyes.

“Am I that predictable?” I groan.

“Mm. I’m not sure how I should answer that.” His voice drifts off. However, I see a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Even if he weren’t here, I know the answer to my question.

“I’m a pathetic bore.” I drop my head into my hands.

“You’re not. You just like things to be perfect and everyone knows this about you. But back to tonight, it’s not an ask, I’m volunteering.”

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