Page 99 of In The Game

“Raleigh. Talk to me.”

“What?” I tap my foot, thinking of all the stuff I need to figure out this week.I didn’t even tell HR I would be leaving in ten days. I figured it was at least a few weeks out.

His palm lands on my thigh, forcing me to look up at him. I swallow.

“Are you afraid to fly?”

I wrinkle my face. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

“You seem a little anxious.”

“Barrett…” I take a deep inhale and exhale. “You travel a lot, you’re used to up and leaving at the drop of a hat. That’s harder for us. I have a lot of stuff to figure out in a short amount of time. Three weeks is—there’s mail, and lawns, and tiny hiking boots, and booster seats, and rental cars, and swimsuits—”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked you about dates before I got the tickets. I already talked to my landscaping company about swinging by to cut your lawn. Mail can be put on hold. Don’t worry about the car stuff, I’ve got a rental and have already researched how to travel with his car seat. There’s enough beds for all of us. We can order the rest or pick it up when we get there. What else do you need me to do?”

With each solution, the weight on my shoulders lessens. It’s like he could read my mind.

Tears prick at my eyes.Is this what it’s like having somebody else to pick up the slack?

“Really?” My hands press together in a prayer against my lips.

“Yeah. I told you I want to be involved. Give me a to-do list.”

Sex is one thing, but it’s a special kind of pussy throb when he takes care of my errands.

I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him, mumbling, “Thank you” against his warm skin. He smells so good. He puts his arms around me and pulls me into his lap.

“We’ll figure it out together.” His hand travels up my thigh and grips my ass. “It’s going to be okay.”

And I believe him.

THIRTY-FIVE

“Ineed some actual advice here,” I say over the phone. Jill is a sounding board for me when things get stressful. My mind has started spinning again, and I needed somebody to let my anxiety out to—somebody who isn’t Barrett. I pace in my closet with my phone on my shoulder, picking out and moving all the summer wear—that still fits—to one side of the closet to separate it for packing.

“No, you don’t. You just want to feel better about your decision.”

Jill’s right. But she doesn’t know what’s riding on this trip. This isn’t just a vacation, it’s three weeks with my son and Barrett.The three of us.I’ve always dreamed about going to Hawaii, and would love to show Arthur somewhere outside the state lines he’s never crossed. He could swim in the ocean, see volcanoes, hell, he could pick a fresh fucking pineapple!

I dig through the drawer in my closet that has all my swimsuits, and promise myself that after I get off the phone, I’m going to Target to find a new one.

“And I love you, Raleigh, but I swear to God, if you whine one more time about how you’re scared of going on a three-week all-paid vacation to Hawaii with six-feet-seven-inches of sex—Barrett Conway—number thirty-three, star right-winger, and alternate captain for the Minnesota Lakes, I’ll kick you out of the activities carpool.”

I laugh and nod again. “You’re right. I’m overthinking.” She’s always right.

“Besides, if you’re worried about the money, hockey players probably take these vacations all the time during the offseason.”

I sit down on the floor and try on sandals that have been hiding in the back of the closet all winter.

That’s true. A trip to Hawaii is probably nothing to him. But for Raleigh Dunham, trailer trash from North Carolina who’s been trying to rise above her station since she left, Hawaii was always a pipe dream. Arthur has been the center of my universe for so long I may have forgotten about the things I want too.

Like Barrett Conway.

“Thanks for talking me off a ledge.”

“I hear the way you talk about him andgirl… the way he looks at you? Swoon. He’s a good guy, Raleigh. Let yourself have this happiness.”

THIRTY-SIX

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