“Tell me I’m not interrupting any shenanigans,” I groan.
Kate and her husband, Jack, are the most disgustingly in-love couple ever. I’d hate her if I didn’t love her so much.
“Pfft, no. Jack’s getting the boys settled into a project, and I was just chasing Hays down, trying to get her into some shoes so we can go run some errands.” Kate groans, followed by a heavy sigh. “The hell with it. I’m too tired to go anywhere now. Tell me about my first favorite kiddo. How’s he adjusting to Southern life?”
Kate was Jake’s kindergarten teacher a million years ago. When Dallas’s best friend knocked her up and married her, she became family. Dallas would have loved to see Jack and Kate together. To finally see the confirmed bachelor with a family of his own. With five-year-old twin boys and a four-year-old daughter, the sound of exhaustion in my friend’s voice is nothing new. But there’s something there, something I can’t quite put my finger on that hints that there’s another one on the way.
Dallas didn’t get to see any of it.
Dallas died too soon.
“Jake’s adjusting, I guess. He’s made a couple of friends.” Bronson walks alongside me, his leash folded across his back. “I just need him to be okay, Kate. I need everything to be settled.”
“Yeah, I know. And what about you, Chloe? Have you made any friends? Found someone to go out with? Have a glass of wine or maybe dinner?” Kate asks softly. “Maybe someone you want to date?”
Done with our walk, I click the button to open the hatch of my SUV and dump some water into a bowl for Bronson. He drinks thirstily and then lies down next to me as I watch the scrimmage happening on the field.
“I’ve had some wine,” I tell her avoiding that last question she snuck in there.
“And the panic attacks? You’ve got those under control?”
Jack’s voice filters through the background, interrupting, “You tell her yet?”
I laugh. “Tell him I’ve already figured it out. When are you due?”
Kate groans. “October. I swear to God, I’m going to cut his dick off. I was on the pill and still made him wrap it. It’s like he’s got super swimmers that’ll stop at nothing.”
Silence thunders through the distance. I will never wish what happened to my husband on anyone else, but that was supposed to be us. Dallas and I were supposed to have the big family. That was our dream. Reality is such a disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean?—”
“Don’t ever apologize for your beautiful life. The sun shining strong on you guys doesn’t mean it’s dimmer on me. Congratulations, really.”
My gaze sweeps over the boys running down the field, tossing the ball like they’ve been doing this for ages instead of just a couple of weeks. I don’t know much about the game, but even Jake looks like he’s caught on to things, though he’s only just started. Miles runs with them, encouraging both sides in the scrimmage at the same time. He claps his hands, shouting out instructions. When he stops the play, he calls all the boys over to him and pulls two out of the group. Crouching low, he shows them how to grab hold and roll to the ground, tackling in the most controlled alligator roll. His small black shorts pull tight across his ass, the muscles of his thighs pushing the cotton to its limits.
“Chloe, did I lose you?” Kate asks.
She didn’t. I heard every word, every encouragement to put myself out there. To allow myself to try. To think about dating. I’m just not sure I’m ready.
“Nope. Sorry, I was watching Jake at rugby practice.”
“Rugby? How’d that happen?”
“Hey, it looks like they’re wrapping up, so I need to let you go.”
“Okay. But you owe me answers. I need to know more about this thing with rugby, and you didn’t answer me about maybe dating.” Kate laughs.
“Give my love to Jack and the kids, okay? I’ll talk to you soon.” Not waiting for a reply, I blow a kiss through the phone and end the call. Quick as I can, I reach over the seat for Jake’s water bottle.
“Good work, men. That’s it for today.” Miles’s voice booms through the crisp spring air. “Make sure to drink your water and do your moms a favor—shower as soon as you get home.”
I will never understand why boys groan the way they do at the thought of taking a shower.
Instead of moping his way back to the car, Jake takes off across the field and gathers up the small orange cones, bringing them to the back of the pretty green truck. Miles lifts a steel bottle to his lips, his throat working as he swallows the water down. My gaze slides over him as I catalog each and every ridge and dip of his well-toned body.
He waves as each kid calls out, “Thanks,” or, “Good-bye.”
And when Jake presents him with the tower of cones, Miles tucks them in a mesh bag along with several balls. He opens the door to the truck, and Bronson leaps from the back of my SUV and bolts across the lot, hopping into the passenger seat, like it’s the only place he belongs.
