For an ex-NFL star, it isn’t the biggest. When Troy came around, I had to ditch the bachelor pad and the lifestyle that came along with it. My old place had too many stairs and sharp corners that he could hurt himself on.
Instead, I left the NFL and moved back to San Diego. I wanted a quiet place in a good neighborhood for Troy to grow up in.
A ranch house with three bedrooms and a backyard with a pool. The living room is small, but the ceilings are high, making it look bigger than it is. Which helps when there are now two tiny humans spread out with their toys and coloring books.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
Sutton is nervous. I can tell that much as she twists her hands together as I pour her a glass of water.
“Thanks.”
She takes the glass, her fingers lingering over mine. It sends a bolt of heat racing through me.
Wow. That is not something I’ve felt in a long time. And based on the way she’s looking at the smallest point of contact, she felt it too.
Sutton
I shouldn’t be as takenwith Derek as I am. Watching him listen to both kids while eating lunch might just be the best thing I’ve ever witnessed.
This man, this big and broody man, is talking to both kids about the latest cartoon they’re watching and discussing their favorite characters.
“Why’s the blue dog your favorite?” Lydia asks, chomping away on her grilled cheese. “I like the green one.”
“Because blue is our favorite color!” Troy yells, a ring of tomato soup lining his mouth.
“The green one has a cool collar. What about you, Sutton?” Derek eyes me, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Who’s your favorite?”
“I like the mom dog. The pink spots make her look cooler.”
“I don’t know. I think she is pretty cool even without the spots.” Derek winks at me.
“But she can’t take her spots off, Daddy. Duh!” Troy chides him.
“I know, buddy. I’m just saying I like her too.”
“Oh.” Troy shoves the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “Can we go play now?”
“Are you done, sweetheart?” I ask, eyeing Lydia’s mostly empty plate.
She nods at me while getting up and chasing after Troy who has bolted into the living room again.
“I guess it doesn’t matter what we say,” Derek says with a laugh.
“At least they’re getting along.”
The two of them have been happily playing all morning, chattering away about their favorite cartoons and books and toys. If only making friends was that easy as an adult.
“Were you worried they wouldn’t?” he asks, clearing the table.
“Lydia can be painfully shy, so I always worry about her.”
“Tagline for parents everywhere.”
“Daddy.” Troy comes running back into the kitchen, Lydia at his side. “Can I show Lydia my soccer ball?”
“One second and we can all go outside.”
