At least you know it’s public knowledge that this one’s fully divorced,a not-helpful voice in my head offers.
And are you going to marry her?Tony’s voice adds.
Jesus.
Fuck.
Neither one of us wants to get married.
That’s why blowing off steam is good. Friends with benefits. Clear rules. Boundaries. We can do this.
We can blow off steam. Privately. Won’t hurt anyone.
That’s what I’m telling myself while I follow the sound of nails being hammered somewhere on the ranch early Saturday morning.
Our next playoff game is this afternoon, and I know Maisey never sits still, so this isn’t a surprise.
The barn comes into view, along with Maisey’s rear end.
June’s dribbling a ball around cones on the far side of Maisey’s truck. That helps my body’s instant reaction to Maisey’s ass.
As does the reminder that June’s really good.
She’s had solid coaching. More, she puts in the work to improve her natural talent. If they’d been here two weeks earlier, she’d be on the team.
I’d tell her that if I didn’t think it would get me an eviscerating eye roll.
Also probably won’t tell her how much of her mom I see in her on the field. She’s been the first person to trot over and talk up a player who has fucked up. The loudest cheerleader. The quickest to jump in with a quip that clears the tension when things are rough.
Coaching a coed team is no joke.
She’s made it easier without realizing it and probably without intending to.
She spots me, frowns, and finishes her run with a solid kick to the ball that sends it sailing into the side of the barn, where it connects with a hard thwack, then continues right on through the wood.
Maisey drops her hammer and leaps to her feet, her head swiveling first to the barn, then to her daughter.“Juniper.”
“Sorry, Mom. Guess I forgot my own strength. I’ll go—”
Get it.
I assume she’s about to say she’ll goget it, but an ominous creak from the barn cuts her off.
Her eyes go wide.
Maisey takes two steps back, then darts toward June.
The building sways.
Oh,fuck.
It’s swaying.
The barn’s swaying.
“Get back!” Maisey yells at June. “Back!Back!”
“I’m sorry,” June gasps.
