“He’s also locked into a very strict confidentiality contract. So yeah, it’s on me to keep my mouth shut and make sure he doesn’t end up in theGazetteagain as ‘The Man of the Cursed Pumpkins.’”
Ivy snorts, trying not to laugh. “Oh my God, you remember that? Last year they talked about it for months.The Man of the Cursed Pumpkins…” She giggles again, and Cam—who only moved to Elm Hollow this year—just gives her a confused look.
Right then, the door to Pumpkin Spice opens and my dad walks in, all beige coat and charm. His eyes find mine instantly; he smiles, and the dimples my mom adores appear.
“Sweetheart!”
I stand, breathe, and pull myself together.
Dad shrugs off his coat, kisses my cheek, and sits down across from me.
Ivy appears with a steaming tray: two cups of tea, a plate of butter cookies, and a conspiratorial smile that clearly saysI’ll leave you to your father–daughter moment.
Dad takes a cookie right away… I had to get my sweet tooth from someone.
“Divine,” he says through a mouthful.
Ivy blushes just a little, and the smile she gives him is pure affection. Elm Hollow adores Julian Heart—and, despite everything, he adores it right back.
He’s got a heart of gold, really.
Not as a coach—that’s his grumpy side—but as a father, husband, and model citizen.
“So, how’s work?” he asks, drizzling a bit of honey into his tea.
“Intense. But good. I think.”
“Has Becker told you about the changes yet?”
I nod, wrapping my hands around the cup to warm my fingers. “Yeah. He told me this afternoon.”
Dad nods, serious but pleased. “I didn’t think he’d take this so seriously. You’re doing a good job with him.”
I try to keep my expression neutral.
I’m not sure whether to laugh or throw myself out of Pumpkin Spice and change my name.
“Yeah, he’s… cooperative.”
Cooperative like a feral cat, but sure.
Why am I covering for him with my father? I have absolutely no idea. I must be missing a few screws.
I take a sip of tea, trying not to picture Cohen Becker “cooperating.”
Time to change the subject.
“Dad… I’m sorry you have to go back to the field already,” I admit, trying not to sound like a little girl.
He sighs, and his smile softens.
“Sweetheart, I stayed longer than planned as it is. We’ve got a game in Lakewood in a couple of weeks. Your mom told me you two are coming to watch.”
My face lights up. “Really? I didn’t know that!”
“It was her idea,” he says, smiling. “You know she loves coming to see us play when we’re nearby.”
I can’t help smiling. I have so many good memories of me and Mom cheering for him in the stands. We go whenever we can, actually. I just didn’t think we’d manage it this time—this season’s been intense for both our jobs.
