Page 22 of I Got You

She laughs through my car speaker as I shift through the never-ending piles of food wrappers, cups, and school papers littered throughout my car. And even though I’ll never admit it to her, Shane wouldn’t be a bad sight to wake up to.

When I saw him at the team party, he was striking. He stood across from me, tall, strong, and broad like a brick wall in a gray t-shirt, pulled taut around his massive biceps and chest. It was my first time seeing him without a hat pulled low on his head. His close-cut, dark brown hair, unshaven face, and hazel-green eyes would make any woman suddenly inhale when they found his eyes on her.

“Ah ha! I found it under an empty Happy Meal box. I should’ve known.” The elation I feel at this recovery tells of how pathetic and mundane my life really is. “Ok. He’s going to be here any minute, and I need to calm myself before I bounce in there high on nerves.” I settle myself back in my seat, needing just a second. “Please tell me I’m not totally and completely insane for even entertaining this.”

“You’re not insane. Maggie, you said he would’ve had a background check before they gave him the coaching job, so at least you know that he doesn’t have a record.”

“Right, no criminal record. We’re setting the bar high.”

“You’ve read every article you can find about him. You know he doesn’t have women making scary claims. It doesn’t even sound like he dated that much. Reality check, chicky. You’ve been taking care of the kids for two years. Even if you didn’t have to worry about your freak of an aunt and uncle coming after them, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else carry just a bit of the load? Someone to talk to. Someone to, I don’t know, yell at when you feel like you can’t take another minute.”

I rest my forehead on the steering wheel. The weight of it all is exhausting and suffocating.

“How in the world could this ever work? He’s a complete stranger. What if he’s terrible with the kids or a bad influence? What if we can’t get along, or we end up hating each other and can’t make it work? Then what? Divorce in this situation isn’t an option. At least until I can be assured the kids won’t be taken away.” I’m scared out of my mind with the endless possibilities of everything that could go wrong, but I’m even more scared of losing the kids.

“Just have dinner with him. It’s like a first date. If it goes well, you can think about marrying him. If it’s horrible and he’s an arrogant, egotistical creep, you aren’t any worse off than you are right now. It’s just dinner, and you can knee him in the balls on the way out.”

“Ok. It’s just dinner and a list. Like an interview. I can do this,” I say, giving myself a little boost of encouragement.

There’s a tap on my window, and I jump. Shane stands there staring at me through the glass, his face emotionless as usual. I smile softly, hoping I can disguise my big ball of nerves.

“Simone, I gotta go.”

“Don’t scare him off with the list.” She rushes. “And Maggie, don’t forget, even if there’s lots of fighting, the making-up part is really great.”

A wave of heat crawls up my neck and floods my face, and I quickly end the call. I climb out of my car, joining the man who may become my husband, really hoping he didn’t just hear that.

∞∞∞

“Table for two.” Shane orders as we enter the machine shed turned upscale brewery.

The hostess gawks at Shane, taking a long perusal before checking the seating map.

He surveys the open space ignoring her obviousness. “Can we have one of the tables toward the back?” It comes out as more of a demand than a request.

“Sure.” She bats her fake eyelashes, and if they move any faster, she might take flight.

After marking the chart and grabbing menus, she leads us to our table with a bit of cachet in her step. I look up at Shane, rolling my eyes, and he pretends to not understand the gesture. I laugh, not failing to notice the whispers as we make our way to the back.

I hadn’t thought about people recognizing Shane. Growing up, my dad autographed shirts and stopped for pictures everywhere we went, but it’s been so long since that happened that I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. Although it’s a little different when it's a giant attractive man towering behind me.

We arrive at our table, and Shane’s large hand lightly brushes the small of my back, waiting for me to sit. Part of me wants to press into it to see what his strong hand feels like, but I resist the urge. That’s not what we are here for.

Our hostess continues to work to get his attention, chomping her gum a little more obscenely. I just hope she doesn’t lose it on our menus. Shane clears his throat in annoyance, and she scurries away like she was caught red-handed.

We are left alone, and I sit on my hands, needing comfort. What in the world am I doing? I think the kids have actually driven me to insanity. I suck in a breath and hold it while Shane acts like a perfectly normal human and surveys the menu.

I investigate while he holds the menu in his large hands. He’s so freaking big. My dad and Cole aren’t small, so you’d think I’d be used to it, but Shane is huge. In jeans and a button-down short sleeve shirt, he looks like a regular guy except, Hulkish. His cut muscles bulge, and veins pop all the way down his arms.

“Are you alright?”

My eyes pop up to his at his concerned tone. Why does he have to look so freaking calm? I haven’t eaten, but I’m pretty sure my stomach is volunteering to make an appearance.

I shove it down with sarcasm. “I was worried your girlfriend would choke on her gum or throw an eyelash trying to get your attention.” He ignores my comment just like he ignored spider lashes. I’m not ready to talk about why we’re here, so I deflect. “Does it ever get old? The attention?” I’m genuinely curious how he feels about it because he hasn’t struck me as the cocky-chatty type.

He weighs his head side to side. “I wanted to play football, and my goal was to be the best, so it came with the territory. I would’ve been fine if it didn’t. Being the center of any kind of attention is not my thing.”

“You don’t say.”

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