Page 71 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

“They’re making dinner.”

“Dinner, huh? Well, as long as it’s not covered in glitter you should be fine.”

I chuckle. “We’ll see. I just hope my kitchen is still standing when they’re done. Jake’s great with breakfast but limited after that. Not that I’m complaining. He’s quite the vision in the morning,” I smirk.

“I bet. I can only imagine. I’m glad you two have managed to patch things up.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I’m fine here so don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” We talk shop for awhile and when I get a text from Jake, I walk home and wonder what the two of them have done to my kitchen.

When I walk into the house, I hear Jake and Ellie laughing. The clatter of pots, and the sound of Ellie’s giggles mixing with Jake’s deep, easy voice warms my heart. The house feels alive with the synergy between Jake and Ellie.

The living room has been transformed into a safari tent—blankets are draped over chairs, and pillows are scattered on the floor. Ellie’s stuffed animals—lions, giraffes, elephants—are arranged in a circle.

And in the middle of it all, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is Jake. Candles burn and the lights are dimly glowing.

Ellie plops down beside him, her lion tucked under one arm. “We’re having our safari feast! Come sit.”

I hesitate, my gaze flicking to Jake. This is the kind of thing families do together. Are we a family?

Jake meets my gaze, something soft, and unreadable is in his expression. Then he pats the pillow next to him.

I duck to enter the ‘tent’ and sit.

Ellie passes out plates, her face glowing with excitement as she sets down our “safari food.” Chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, and apple slices. Simple, messy, and perfect.

The night fills with laughter, stories, and silly voices.

We eat off of paper plates and use plastic forks. and I’m sure it’s the ambiance that makes the food taste better than usual.

Ellie wants to act out the safari so Jake goes first and he roars like a lion. Ellie howls with laughter. I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. Ellie uses her arm to make a trunk and makes an elephant sound and I pretend I’m an owl flying over the Serengeti.

I’m having a great time that I’m not obsessing about work. I’m living in the moment and it feels—normal. And amid laughter and telling stories, it’s as if Jake and I never disagreed. It’s as if it’s in the past where it should be.

Later, Jake helps Ellie get ready for bed. I watch from the doorway as he tucks her in, smoothing her hair back gently.

“Goodnight, kiddo,” he murmurs.

Ellie yawns, stretching her arms toward him.

Jake freezes for a split second—like he wasn’t expecting the hug—but then he leans in, holding her close.

Something tightens in my chest.

This is real. He’s real.

He presses a light kiss to her forehead before stepping away. When he turns to me, I don’t move.

We stare at each other for a long moment, the weight of everything unsaid settling between us.

We pick up the living room and fold the blankets. I move the candles to the coffee table and Jake disappears into the kitchen and returns with chocolate-covered strawberries.

We sit on the couch with Serengeti Juice, which is the red wine, andhe feeds it to me.

One thing leads to another and then, we’re peeling each other’s clothes off as we make our way to my room.

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