Page 60 of A Wild Card Kiss
And even though this time four months ago, four weeks ago, heck, four nights ago, I wasn’t ready, I am now.
I won’t make the same mistakes.
I’ll take my time.
Get to know him truly.
Take baby steps rather than run full speed ahead.
As long as I do that, I won’t be played for a fool again. I’ll stay one step ahead of my emotions.
I’ve got this.
Chapter 19
Harlan
On Tuesday morning, Abby crunches into her peanut butter toast, kicking her purple Converse-sneakered foot back and forth. “What are you doing today, Daddy?” she singsongs around the food in her mouth.
After I take the last gulp of coffee, I set down the mug. Give her a stern stare. “Making sure my little bear doesn’t talk with her mouth full.”
She casts her gaze down, covers her mouth, chews.
Chews some more.
A little more still.
Finally, she swallows. She gulps loudly. Smiles weakly. “Sorry.”
I stifle a laugh. She’s too cute when she’s contrite. I walk around the counter, ruffle her hair. “Thank you for saying so.” I park myself on a stool. “To answer your question, it’s a Tuesday, so I’m working out with some of the usual crew after I take you to school.”
She lifts her hand, counts off on one hand. “Cooper, Chance, Jones, Jason, and Shane?” She screws up the corner of her lips, relieved. “I think I got them all.”
I whistle in approval. “They’re not all coming today, but well done. You just named a future Hall-of-Famer QB, a World Series-winning pitcher for the Cougars, my receiver buddy, the quarterback for the city’s other team, and the All-Star British closing pitcher. You are fire, and your brain is sharp.”
She points at me, a challenging look in her hazel eyes. “But can you name all my friends who are coming to your game next weekend?” My girl pops the rest of her toast in her mouth, waiting for me to rattle off the names of her peeps.
“Ye of little faith. Gabriella, Caroline, and Audrey. Booyah. The Fab Four. Do not doubt me.”
Abby giggles, then finishes her toast and smiles. “But I don’t want to watch a boring game. Sometimes football is kind of dull and if it is, we might want to watch something else instead. On Mommy’s iPad,” she says, since her mom brings her to the games when the owner invites them. “Like maybeGirl Power, that new show about ten-year-olds who have superpowers.”
I scoff. “You might want tonotcome to the game andnothang out in the owner’s booth if you plan to watch your mom’s iPad. Sheesh.”
“Or we could do cartwheels in the hall, since my new gymnastics class is awesome,” she says, and that makes me smile. The fact that she loves the class, not her suggestion of doing acrobatics at the stadium. “And I love that you love Gym Buddies. But you can’t do cartwheels in the hallway at the stadium. Got it?”
“Got it. But maybe we’ll watch gymnastics instead. I could watch Simone Biles all day long.”
“Understandable. She’s the bomb.”
Abby’s all earnest as she hops off her stool and asks, “But once you’ve seen Simone, don’t you think football is boring?”
She brings her plate to the sink, rinses it, then sets it in the dishwasher as I answer. “Football is fascinating, fast-paced, fantastic, and fabulous. And that’s alliteration. So, not only do you get sports knowledge with me, but I’m practically an English teacher too. Now, the first bell rings in twenty-five minutes, Miss I Made My Dad Cry by Calling His Job Boring.” I frown, like I’m going to sob.
She runs the few feet to me, grabs my legs, and hugs me hard. “Don’t cry, Daddy. Football is fun. Just be careful.”
I scoop her up, drop a kiss on her cheek. “I promise. And I’ll see if I can get over it…if you brush your teeth.”
“I’ll do it.”
