“Did you play football?”
“Yes. And my dad coached.”
“Oh, right. I knew that. What position did you play?”
He turns and smirks at me. “Would you know the difference?”
“Not really,” I reply, making him chuckle.
“I was the backup quarterback, and I alternated at wide receiver and linebacker.”
I frown. “Your dad didn’t make you the starting quarterback?”
He clicks his tongue. “He let me start for one year, until this other guy who was just a little better got to high school.”
The realization hits me, and I cringe. “Let me guess, he had a younger brother who was also good at football?”
“Bingo.”
I stare at his profile as I continue. “Did you love it? Playing ball?”
“Yeah, I did,” he says thoughtfully. “Despite my dad and the Bourgeois brothers nearly ruining it for me, I still loved the game. And I was good at it, even if I wasn’t as good as Blake or JD.”
“I bet you were better. I imagine it was hard being the coach’s son and getting held to a higher standard,” I tell him.
But he shakes his head and smiles wistfully. “Having something to prove only made me work harder. In the end, the competition was good for me. I enjoyed being a part of the team. And as much as it hurts to admit it, I still claim some of the bragging rights I earned from playing alongside a kid who ended up in the pros.”
We laugh together before I start again. “Landry?”
“Hmm?”
He turns to look at me for a second, and my stomach flutters. He really is a handsome man, and I’d be lying if I said he doesn’t make me feel things I’ve never felt before. But I’m not here to throw myself at him, especially when he’s so far out of my league. Not to mention, I’ll never become self-sufficient without his help, as ironic as that seems.
I swallow hard. “Will you take me to a game? You know, at school, and teach me how it all works?”
His smile grows wider. “Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks,” I breathe, looking away when I feel my cheeks flush.
“All right, enough about me,” he says after a second. “Why don’t you just do me a favor and tell me all the rest of the stuff you think I need to know?”
I perk up. Not for the chance to talk about myself, but because I get to coerce Landry into spilling the same details later. “Okay, let’s see … I love plants and gardening. I can’t cook or bake all that well because my mom and sisters thought it wouldn’t be safe to let me near the stove with my epilepsy, so they assigned other chores to me instead, like tending to the animals and some of the smaller gardens, washing the dishes, and folding the laundry. I prefer homemade to store-bought gifts. I enjoy reading, but I’d rather do it outside. My dad always played John Denver around the farm, so his music makes me happy. My faith is very important to me, although you knew that already. And my sisters are great, but Rowan has always been my favorite sibling.”
He hums. “If you enjoy that whole homesteading-Jesus-hippie lifestyle so much, then why are you out here in Camellia all by yourself?”
I try not to let him see how much his question deflates me. “Because it’s a good opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what?”
“To prove I can make it on my own, like I said before,” I tell him, but I can’t bring my eyes up from my lap. “And even though I miss my family, I guess I was tired of being the only one left at home.”
“Do you even want to be a teacher?”
“What?”
He clears his throat. “I like baseball and football, but golf is my favorite sport. It’s relaxing, and I’m good at it. And since I’m not a big drinker, I usually beat the pants off everyone when I play in a group, because I’m the only sober one left by the back nine.”
I turn to stare at him with wide eyes, and he gives me a sad smile. “Even though Lo and I mostly fended for ourselves as kids, I never really learned to cook, either. We ate a lot of sandwiches. I love my Jeep.” He pauses to stroke the dash before he continues, “but besides that, I don’t really care much about material possessions, because efficiency and utility are more important than beauty. Country music annoys me because it’s too sappy; I listen to medical podcasts instead. Your brother is the only real friend I’ve ever had.”
