“Really?” Noah bounces on his tiptoes.
“Absolutely,” I confirm.
Hells bells. What am I doing? I don’t know the first thing about kids. This might even be the first time I’ve ever talked to one. But there’s something about Noah that hits me in the gut, and it’s not just the scar.
“Thanks, Mr. Knox!” He picks up the ball and runs straight to me.
“Just call me Knox. The mister part isn’t necessary.”
“Okay…Knox,” he responds, trying out my name without the title.
I hold my hand out for the football, and he eagerly hands it over. I show him how to hold the football and explain throwing and catching. He moves a few yards away, and we practice throwing the ball back and forth. On Noah’s first throw, the football wobbles and he doesn’t put enough strength behind it, causing the ball to fall short. Then he doesn’t catch it when I throw the football back. I encourage him to keep trying and give him more pointers, and after a few minutes, he’s already showing signs of improvement.
Noah adjusts the ball in his hands, getting ready to throw it again. “How do you know so much about football?” He launches it into the air; this time, the ball actually makes it all the way to me.
I catch it in my hands and only spend a moment readying myself to throw. “You’re in Texas, Bud. If nothing else, we know two things: barbecue and football.” I throw the ball back, and it bounces a couple of times in Noah’s arms before he finally catches it.
When Noah realizes he caught the ball, he holds the ball over his head and jumps up and down. “Did you see that? I did it! I caught it!”
Celebrating with him, I clap my hands. “I saw! Good job, Bud! You’ll give CJ Stroud a run for his money in no time.”
He stops jumping and tilts his head. “Who’s that?”
“He’s a quarterback.”
Noah frowns. “What’s that?”
That same emotion from earlier tries to come back tenfold, but I hold it back. Another swallow and I have myself under control again. I glance at my phone, checking the time. “We can go over all that stuff next time. I have to head to work.”
Noah’s smile is huge. “We’re gonna do this again?”
“Of course,” I promise. Grabbing my helmet off the seat, I swing my leg over my motorcycle. “Keep practicing.” My helmet slides on my head, and I start up the engine.
“I will!” he shouts over the noise.
I give him a salute and set off down the road.
Memories flood my consciousness, sending a pang through my chest. They flash through my mind like the world’s worst movie.
I don’t want to remember. But my desire is just wishful thinking.
CHAPTER SIX
RAVEN
After dropping Noah off at school, I went straight to my job at the library, just like I have for the last few days. Kat was right in that Florence Baker is surly. She walks around with a small scowl on her face. It’s a wonder that anyone comes to the library at all.
The library has large windows all over and a beautiful skylight in the center. Nylon blue carpet covers the floor and comfortable seating is spread throughout the building, tucked amongst the shelves. The circulation desk is right next to the entrance and covers most of the front wall. Behind the circulation desk is Florence’s office.
Searching for Florence, I find her shelving some romance novels that were returned earlier today. Florence has long gray hair that is always tied back in a low bun, and she wears black thick-rimmed glasses. I swear she keeps the air conditioning below sixty degrees so she can wear a cardigan every day. I feel like I need to start wearing a snow coat.
“Hey, Florence! I’m taking my break in five.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mutters to herself.
Always the charmer…
Behind the circulation desk, I finish sorting some returns we just received. When five minutes have come and gone, I grab my purse and head out for lunch at Mystic Beans. My phone vibrates in my pocket.
