Page 58 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

I shake my head, and my adrenaline acts like lighter fluid that fuels a bonfire. “You shouldn’t have let her near it in the first place,” I huff. My eyes narrow and I should have backed down when I notice his proud shoulders slump apologetically. He feels bad about it and I should take that as a sign that he heard me and that he’s conceded defeat.

But I don’t heed my basic instinct as my motherly instinct to protect Ellie overrides my better judgment.

Jake exhales in frustration and runs a handthrough his hair. “Sam, I get that you’re upset, but you’re acting like she lost a limb. She’s fine.”

Is that a condescending tone in his voice? He’s challenging me to admit defeat, and conveying the fact that I’m overreacting. He has no right to judge me. I’m her mother.

“That’s not the point,” I snap. “You were supposed to watch her.”

His eyes flicker with something I can’t quite place. “I did.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The room is thick with tension, and we’re both uncomfortable. We’re at a standoff over my need to punish him and his need to challenge my standards.

Ellie sniffles. “Don’t be mad at Jake, Aunt Sam. It was my fault.”

Damn it. She knows Jake is in trouble. My chest tightens.

I sit next to Ellie and scoop her into my arms. I kiss her finger. “It’s fine, Ellie,” I reassure her but I send a menacing look to Jake as if it’s his fault she’s upset.

I turn my attention to Ellie and take in her soft teary eyes and immediately feel like the worst person alive. I know Jake feels bad over the accident so why am I so mean to him?

It was an accident. I know that kids are unpredictable but damn, this is my kid and it’s my job to keep her safe. This is why I rarely leave her. I don’t trust Jake, in fact, I don’t trust anyone but my mother and Maggie.

I’m a control freak.

I take a breath, trying to get a grip on my emotions. Then I brushed a hand over her hair and consoled her. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault. I just—” I glance at Jake before looking back at her. “I just worry, that’s all.”

Ellie’s tiny arms tighten around my neck and she hugs me. “I’m sorry.”

I swallow hard. “It’s okay. I love you. It’s past your bedtime.” I stand up, meeting Jake’s gaze. “We need to talk.”

He nods, knowing he’s not off the hook and that I’m on the warpath.

“Sure,” he says but his expression is unreadable as he scoops her into his arms. “I’ll tuck her in,” he says. I nod in agreement and he disappears, carrying her up the steps. He returns a few minutes later.

“She’s tucked in and was asleep before I reached the door,” he says.

18

JAKE

Her eyes are like daggers,and they pierce my heart. I fell badly for Ellie who knows Sam is upset and I know Sam won’t go lightly on me.

But don’t see the evening into a big ordeal—well, maybe I did. Perhaps this is what I feared would happen deep in my heart. I’m not sure. Maybe in the very back of my brain, there was an inkling of doubt that Sam could give up control for one night.

And if I know one thing about Sam, it’s the fact that her little girl got hurt on my watch. And she won’t be quick to forgive me.

I must be crazy to think she could change. What was I thinking? That her over-the-top, overzealous helicoptering would end just because I’m in the picture? I’m kicking myself for being so naive.

And now I’m paying for it because she has very effectively reduced me to being the bubble gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe. What will happen to the man who teaches Ellie to ride a bike? Because every kid crashes the first few times out.

What will her punishment be for that guy? Becauseclearly—it won’t be me. She’s tried me and found me guilty of the most heinous crime on earth. Far be it from me to be human.

But just the thought of another man with Sam makes my heart hurt. I don’t want her to be with anyone else. I’m jealous of the mere inkling of another man taking my place because, in my heart, she’s mine.

The scent of our freshly baked cookies lingers in the air along with the laughs we had while we made them. Ellie and I both love to eat raw cookie dough.

I look into Sam’s eyes and it’s clear we’re in a Mexican standoff. It’s her against me and I’m forced to defend myself. Sam is a Rotty with a bone. She’s the den mother protecting her cub. She’s—well, she’s Sam—the perfectionist has to be in control of every situation.

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