Page 69 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“So what’s up with your rehab?”

“I’ll be released soon. We can talk about it later.”

“Okay.” When the eggs are cooked, I share the contents between our plates. Jake adds fluffy pancakes and by the time we sit to eat, Ellie has wolfed down her food and runs off to get ready for school.

“These are really good. I love that you can cook.” I dig into the fluffy goodness first. I don’t eat much flourso I’ll eat the eggs, otherwise, I’ll be in a carb coma by the time I’ve finished eating.

“Don’t get carried away, I have limited skills in the kitchen. But breakfast is easy.” He finishes his eggs and takes a bite of the carbs. “What’s the plan today?”

“I have deliveries coming, but Maggie will handle that. I thought maybe we could do something.”

“Like what? It’s not like I can take you to dinner or lunch because nothing will be as great as Maggie’s food.”

I give him an evil eye.

“And your food is superb, too!”

“Mm. Well, there is a strawberry farm not far from here. We could pick them and share a strawberry shortcake. They have a food truck with desserts.”

“Let’s do it,” he replies.

Jake drives us to Ellie’s school and we let her out before we make our way to the strawberry patch. It’s early and there aren’t many people here. We both grab a cardboard container and walk into the field.

“Wow, I’ve never done this before,” Jake says as he observes the massive field in front of us.

“I love the smell. And I love strawberry jam,” I say, moving to plants that haven’t been picked.

I bend, pick a strawberry, and eat it.

“You’re shoplifting,” he accuses me.

“It’s only one! I can’t resist!” I enjoy the succulent fruit and smack my lips together when it’s gone. Then, I begin to fill the cardboard container.

“So do people still make preserves from this?”

“Here they do. It seems like it’s a lost art. I just love country stores with walls of canned goods in the Mason jars.”

“I’ve only seen them in commercialized eateries,” Jake confesses.

“Well, I’ll chop these up and make a jam.”

“Or you can make a dessert for tonight.”

“Dessert?” I stand and poise a strawberry suggestively at my lips.

“Hm.” He drops his container, and takes two steps, closing the gap between us. His arms snake around me. “I’m jealous of that strawberry. Your lips are mine. And mine only but I’m not opposed to licking the taste of ripe strawberries from them.”

He kisses me and he sucks my lips. Then, he rewards me with a tender and sweet kiss, like our first kiss, and it turns me on. Damn it he’s not the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. I snake my hands around his neck and breathe his cologne. He’s irresistible.

We are like two horny teenagers and his hard cock presses into me. We’ve stood together for over a minute and I break away for air just as the sun begins to heat my skin.

“It’s getting hot,” I comment.

“Tell me about it,” he groans.

“Mm.” I lean against him.

“We’re never going to get to jam if we don’t pick some of these,” he states.

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