Page 26 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“My ex.” I hold up the phone by way of explanation. “I have to sign some stuff for our daughter’s school.”

“You have a daughter?” I can’t tell if that’s hurt or confusion in her voice, but either way this news has made her more leery of me, not less. Dammit.

“Sawyer.” I nod. “She’s fifteen. I thought you knew.”

“How would I know that? You never mentioned her.” Hurt. Definitely hurt. Shit.

“I’m sorry, Samantha.” She pulls her hand back when I reach for it, so I collapse into the chair across from her instead. “I’m so used to people knowing everything about me without having to say anything, I just assumed you did too. I forgot that you don’t pay attention to football or any of the gossip that surrounds it.” As soon as the words are out, I chuckle at the irony.

“What’s so funny?” She demands.

I wipe my hand over my mouth to cover my laughter. “Not funny. Ironic. It just occurred to me that you are exactly like my daughter.”

She frowns, unsure of whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, and that gets me wondering the same thing. Sawyer’s incredible, but she and I are two very different people who haven’t always seen eye-to-eye. Most of that comes down to me not doing a good job of trying to understand her, or being available, but the end result is there’s a lot we don’t have in common.

I don’t think that’s driven a wedge between us, but it’s maybe kept us from being as close as we could be, and that makes me wonder if the differences between Samantha and I are too great.

“How are we alike?” Samantha crosses her slender arms.

“Well.” I rub the bridge of my nose as I search for the right words. “For one, Sawyer doesn’t pay attention to football either. As a matter of fact, she hates it. Doesn’t want anything to do with it. And she doesn’t understand the fascination with celebrity gossip. Thinks it’s stupid. Plus, she’s a stunningly beautiful girl who has no idea that’s how people see her.”

Samantha’s terrible at masking her thoughts, so that furrowed brow tells me she’s got about a dozen questions. But just like the woman herself, they’re unconventional, phrased as more of a statement than a question.

“I never said I hated football.” She picks at her skirt, avoiding my eyes.

“You didn’t have to. You never ask me anything about it, and that’s okay.” I hold my hand up and smile, “It’s something you have in common with my daughter. Although, I’m hoping one day I can change your mind.”

“She finds the games too long and boring also?” Samantha bites her lip, waiting for my response.

This one is gonna be tough to admit to a woman I’d like to impress, but I want to win her trust. I take a deep breath. “No, she hates that I was more devoted to the game than to her and her mother.”

“You were?” Her big gray eyes are wide when they meet mine.

“It’s a long story, but yes. I haven’t always been the best parent.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I repeat. “I don’t know. Being too young and stupid to know better, thinking that my role was to provide financially while her mom did the other stuff, thinking the game was the only way to do that and focusing more on it than her…” I trail off.

“I guess I can see how she’d hate the game for that,” Samantha says quietly.

“Me too. Although it’s such a big part of my life that I could share it with her.”

“Can’t you?”

“Probably a little late for that. Don’t let your food get cold.” I push a plate toward her to change the subject. I’m still coming to terms with the mistakes I made and how to do better when it comes to Sawyer, and I’m not quite ready to dissect that any more tonight. Fortunately, Samantha lets it go.

“Fifteen, that puts her in high school?” She takes a bite of chicken.

I take my own bite and wait for her to continue, but instead of the typical ‘you must have had her young’ remark she surprises me with an even scarier comment. “You should talk to the students at her school. I bet they’d love to have you, and the administration would love to see a celebrity athlete promote education. Especially a local one.”

I cough on the bite in my mouth, causing Samantha’s gray eyes to grow wide in shock. It takes half a glass of water before I feel like I can speak. “No. Bad idea.” I choke.

“Why?”

“It would embarrass Sawyer.”

“She’s embarrassed by you?” A small crease forms between her brows. It’s not a frown exactly, more like, concern. That’s promising, I think.

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