Page 36 of Scoring with the Coach's Daughter

Ellie beams, and I can’t help but smile as my heart fills with a warmth I didn’t know I needed.

By late afternoon, we’re sitting on the blanket, Jake gets the campfire going. The smell of smoke and salt fills the air as he places corn on the cob in the coals. When they’ve been cooking, he puts a pot of clams over the flames. The shells clattering softly against each other as the water sloshes. Ellie sits cross-legged nearby, her fingers busy weaving a crown of sea grass she insists will make me “queen of the beach.”

“Aunt Sam, you’re gonna look so pretty,” she says, her tongue poking out in concentration. “Jake, don’t you think shelooks like a queen?”

Jake glances up from tending the fire, his eyes meeting mine. “Definitely.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no hiding the flush that creeps into my cheeks. “You’re both ridiculous,” I mutter, though my smile betrays me.

Once the corn is on the fire, Jake grabs a frisbee from the bag. “Who’s up for a game?”

Ellie is on her feet in an instant. “Me! And Aunt Sam, you have to play too!”

The three of us run up and down the beach, the frisbee flying between us. Ellie’s giggles are constant, and Jake’s competitive streak makes an appearance, though he lets her win more often than not. Jake cooks the clams and serves us dinner and it turns out the sea air has made us all ravenous.

Dinner is simple but perfect. We sit on the blanket, plates balanced on our laps as we eat clams dripping with butter and sweet, smoky corn on the cob. The fire crackles softly, and the ocean hums its eternal song in the background.

The sun begins to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we’re all breathless, happy, and satiated.

“This is the best day ever,” Ellie declares, her mouth full of corn.

Jake chuckles, his arm resting casually on the blanket behind me. “We’ll have to do it again sometime soon.”

“And we need to get our rest tonight, Peanut,” I say to Ellie. “We have theBBQ Bash tomorrow. We have a busy weekend,”I remind her.

“Yeah! Are you coming, Jake?” She sends him an inquisitive look but her angelic face makes her impossible to resist. I nod my approval to Jake.

“Sure.” He’s wearing his megawatt smile and my ovaries explode.

The memories of my parents and my sister are still there, but they don’t hurt as much now. Instead, they blend with the present, with Ellie’s laughter and Jake’s steady presence, creating something new and beautiful.

As the last rays of sunlight fade into twilight, the three of us huddle together on the blanket. Ellie leans against my side, as we watch the sun dip into the ocean like a bowl of cherry Jell-O. Ellie’s head is heavy with sleep and is resting in my lap. Jake’s arm brushes mine, protective, warm, and solid. I love him taking charge, cooking dinner, and being such an attentive companion. The fire burns low, its embers glowing softly in the dark, as does my heart.

“I’m glad we came,” I say quietly, the words surprising even me.

Jake looks at me, his expression unreadable in the fading light. “Me too.”

We sit in silence, the three of us lost in our thoughts. It’s as if my sister sent Jake to us and that we’re all meant to be here creating new.

11

JAKE

A BBQ Bash!For a small town, the women in my life are keeping me busy! The sound of the town square buzzing with activity fills the air as I step out of the truck. The Cherry Point BBQ Bash is in full swing, and the smoky aroma of grilling meat mingling with the sweetness of fried dough smells wafting from the funnel cake stands and it makes me hungry for something sweet.

Kids dart between booths with faces painted with popular Spiderman characters, Disney characters, and even butterflies while parents stand in clusters, sipping sweet tea and catching up on local gossip. This town might be small, but it sure knows how to throw a shindig.

Bluegrass music fills the air along with townies. I walk along rows of tables with canned cherries, peaches, green beans, and pickles, just to name a few. My mouth waters when I see the strawberry jam. I do love strawberries.

I scan the horizon and walk to the open field where grills are smoking because I’m looking for Sam’s booth. The bold lettering of “Sam’s Table” stands out against the rustic backdropof the barbecue grill she’s set up. She’s standing behind the table talking to her employees who stand next to Maggie. Sam is overseeing the ribs on the grill. I’m not surprised. She’s a perfectionist and God forbid she hands over the reins to her staff.

Her dark hair is pulled into a loose bun, and her apron is smudged with BBQ sauce as she assembles plates with her usual precision. Even when she’s working, she has this air about her—like she’s completely in control of the world around her. It’s infuriatingly attractive.

I really need to get her to break the habit she has of working all the time. I thought I was a workaholic until I met her. But, like all players, over time, we find balance. I doubt Sam will relinquish control unless she has to, and that’s not the way to go about it. However, she needs to learn moderation and I hope she finds it before she exhausts herself.

I want her to relax more and appreciate the moments every day instead of in the few hours of the day when she’s unwinding. I want us to have the home life we both deserve. During the football season, my life is fast forward due to the fast-paced season. Sam’s career is as demanding as mine and that will leave little time for us and the family I desire. I hope Sam and I are capable of making compromises and sacrifices for each other.

“Looks like you’re missing the fun, Sam,” I call out as I approach. I stop to lean against the counter with an easy grin gracing my face. She works too much, and I’m about to change that.

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