Page 44 of Poppy Kisses
“It was. Then I was recruited to start a league. Parents were disenchanted with the bigger club in town and the preferential treatment of some kids. I said I’d do it. It wasn’t like I was reinventing the wheel, right?”
He hooked his fingers through mine. “Didn’t go well?”
I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. “It was a dumpster fire. The bigger club dominated the town. They got all the field times, blamed us for any damage to the grass or fence line, and the one weekend I planned a small tournament, the Parks and Rec board rented the fields out for a cornhole tournament. ‘Oops, we double-booked.’” I mimicked the snide voice of the Parks and Rec lady, who I learned later was the wife of the club’s president. Old emotions tumbled back until the utter failure hung like cement blocks off my shoulders. “I was on the hook for it all. The club went broke. Coaches were irate. Refs who thought they had a weekend gig were pissed. A couple of teams traveled, paid for hotels, and no games. I took all the blame.”
“You were sabotaged.”
I shrugged. “The buck stopped at me.”
“You were what? Twenty-three?”
“By then, yes.”
“But they’d been jerking you around earlier. And let me guess—the older adults who recruited you to run everything knew how everyone was, knew the politics, and left you out to dry.”
Feeling moderately better about my role in the ordeal, I nodded. “I moved and started grad school and never played again.” No matter how much I missed the movement and the kids.
“That’s wrong.” He stroked his thumb along the side of my hand. “Is that why you don’t even have a name for your center yet? You’re too afraid the town is going to sabotage you?”
“No one owes me anything.” And no one would look out for me.
“Let’s come up with a name.”
“What? Now?” My pulse jackknifed. It was just a name. Why was worry clawing through my gut? I could come up with something and change it at any time. Yet my mind blanked. “Don’t you have the meeting?”
“We have a half hour before we leave.”
“The website?”
“Can also wait. I just want to add a Coming Soon page where I tease the Perez house remodel.” He pivoted until he was facing me, our knees interconnected, and let go of my hand in the process. “Names.”
Nothing came out of my mouth.
He placed his hands on my thighs, one on each leg, and my pulse sped up for a different reason. His ponderings about my thighs streamed clearly through my head.
“Little Minds?” He winced. “Shit, that will be taken the wrong way.”
“I’m sure something like Duke’s Dyslexia Center will work.” It was just a name, so I hadn’t given it thought. That was all.
“As much as I love the way DDC rolls off the tongue, you didn’t put any thought into it.”
“Hollis Cabinets?” I pointed out.
“Branding. My name’s in the title, so they don’t have to look hard. I’m well known enough in the area, so if someone says, ‘Hey, is there a cabinet guy?’ then Hollis jumps to mind.” He gave me a gotcha grin. “Poppy’s Pupils.”
I laughed. “People will think I’m an eye doctor or something.”
“Poppy’s Field of Dreams Center.” He grinned, rubbing his hands up my thighs. “Poppy’s Dream of Fields Center.”
I let out a scandalized gasp.
He continued stroking my legs, stoking a thrum between my thighs. “No kidding, Poppy, I would pronounce it that way at least once.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I want a title that will inspire kids but also make them feel like they’re not standing out when they say it. DDC does that.”
“You want a title that means something. DDC doesn’t do that.” He looked down at his hands and his fingers tensed over my jeans, but he didn’t lift them off me. “I have no doubt you’ll come up with something perfect.”
“I have all the doubt.”
