5. Bailey

Chapter 5

Bailey

“ T he fuck are you doing here?” Jacobs asked him three days later, and Bailey supposed the question was a valid one.

Nevertheless, standing on the man’s front doorstep, he was going to forge ahead with his plan.

Ever since accidentally meeting Ava in his coach’s office, the thought that August Jacobs was having a hard time of life right then would not stop circling in his head. It was pretty obvious the highly strung Brit was a bit of a loner, and Bailey knew from his siblings’ experiences that parenthood was stressful at the best of times. Add to that the likelihood that Jacobs was probably mourning the loss of his career (because Bailey knew he would also be devastated when he had to retire), and being in a foreign country away from his family and the life he was familiar with…

Yeah, Jacobs needed more company than just a five-year-old.

Plus, Christmas was only a month and a bit away, and Bailey would bet his bottom dollar that Jacobs hadn’t given any thought to how having a five-year-old might change any of his original Christmas plans. ( Which , Bailey thought uncharitably , probably involved a lot of booze and loneliness and not much else. )

Bailey held up the large shopping bags he’d been carrying and smiled what he hoped was a charming smile. “Thought the little princess might appreciate some toys and books and stuff.”

Jacobs’ jaw dropped and he seemed genuinely dumbfounded for a moment. “You…bought my kid toys and shit?”

“Actually, I had my sister express mail me some of her daughter’s hand-me-downs.” Bailey fought the urge to facepalm at the admission as he registered his surroundings.

The house Jacobs had bought himself in Burleigh, only minutes’ walk from the beach, was likely worth a few million dollars; probably a drop in the bucket considering the money he’d once been paid to play in the Premier League. What would he think of hand-me-down toys?

Surprisingly, though, his coach’s expression gentled and he stepped backwards, sweeping out an arm to usher Bailey inside. “That’s really thoughtful,” he said as Bailey stepped through, adding a soft, “thank you” before closing the door.

Will wonders never cease? Bailey mused, then looked around the entryway he’d stepped into. The house was open-plan, with bright white walls and grey-toned timber flooring. The furniture was all modern and new, but as much as it looked like a pristine display home, it lacked warmth and personality.

That was until he followed Jacobs through into the combined kitchen-dining-living area and found Ava sprawled out on a brightly coloured rug with dolls and doll-sized clothes scattered around her. It almost looked like a cyclone had come through the house and focused only on that point.

That was where the life and personality could be found.

Bailey grinned. “We meet again, Princess Ava,” he greeted jovially, and she beamed back at him with the effortless enthusiasm of, well, a five-year-old.

“Bailey!” she cried happily, leaping to her feet and racing over, surprising him with a hug around his waist. “Hi!” She turned to look past him to her dad and declared, “See? I’ve already made a friend.”

Jacobs sighed. “We’ve been talking about her starting school here in January. It’s…not going well,” he added, sounding wrung-out and defeated.

Bailey’s heart went out to the little girl and, still surprisingly, to her father.

“School here’s awesome,” he told Ava, really amping up the enthusiasm in his tone. “I had a bunch of fun in” —he paused to do a quick calculation of her age— “grade one.”

Narrowing her little eyes, she looked even more like Jacobs as she regarded him with blatant scepticism. “Really?”

“Yep. I made heaps of friends, and we played soccer at big lunch.”

She scrunched her little nose up. “It’s not called soccer, it’s called football.”

It took every ounce of Bailey’s self-control to not laugh and look in his coach’s direction. He’d heard the ‘it’s the only fucking football in this country actually played with the feet’ rant at least twice a week since the man had started coaching their team.

“I stand corrected,” he replied instead, then held up the bags he’d brought with him. “Anyway, I’ve brought you some presents.”

Her little face lit up in wonder. “Presents? But it’s not Christmas yet.” And then, as though a lightbulb went off over her head, she looked to her dad, horror-stricken. “Will Santa come for me this Christmas? Because I don’t live at my old home anymore and” —she let out a gasp— “it’s so hot here! Christmas is s’posed to be cold, Daddy!”

“Well, no, Christmas is different all over the world…” Jacobs tried.

But Bailey could see the tears welling in her eyes and, fearing that he’d get in trouble for setting off a tantrum, he jumped in with: “Aussie Christmases are even better than cold ones. We have pavlova, and play backyard cricket, and have barbeques, and go swimming and everything. I can totally show you.”

Jacobs inhaled sharply before Bailey could register the offer he’d made. “I don’t think that’s necess—”

“Really?” Ava cut her dad off with wide, wet, imploring eyes. “You’ll have Christmas with me? And Santa will still come?”

“Of course Santa will still come. He goes all over the world in one night.” Bailey answered, feeling his coach’s gaze boring into the side of his face.

Good one, Peters, he thought sarcastically. Just invite yourself to his first Christmas with his kid. Moron.

Thank God it would take more than Jacobs’ word to have his captaincy revoked.

“And you’ll show me and Daddy how to have an Aussie Christmas?” Ava prodded, sounding far too endearing when she said ‘Aussie’.

Bailey’s resolve to backpedal crumbled.

“Yeah, of course,” he repeated, then tried a sideways glance at his coach. “If, uh, if your daddy’s okay with that.”

She flung her little body at her dad, headbutting him in the hip as she begged, “Please, Daddy? Bailey’s my friend an’ you’re my family. Christmas is for friends and family.”

Bailey watched as Jacobs took a deep, visibly calming breath and then looked to the ceiling, muttering, “Give me fucking strength,” before he smiled lovingly back down at his daughter.

That expression set off a whole different set of butterflies in Bailey’s belly, which he promptly ignored.

He was an out and proud bisexual player with a thing for older men, but crushing on that particular arsehole was a step too far. Besides, as far as he knew, Jacobs was straighter than an arrow.

And he was his coach.

Jacobs, meanwhile, was begrudgingly agreeing to allow Bailey to crash their first Christmas as father and daughter, and he tacked on a mildly hopeful, “Unless Pete— Bailey should be spending it with his family?”

The familiar pang of homesickness hit Bailey as he thought about his large family back in Adelaide. His siblings, parents, and his multiple nephews and nieces. They were one of those sickeningly close families, with a group chat and in-jokes. This would be the first Christmas he spent away from them, and he had looked into flying to Adelaide and back, but when he’d seen the cost of the tickets to do so, he had baulked.

Yes, he was the team captain, but it was a new team to the A-League, and they weren’t paying enough for him to justify that kind of cost. Plus, with the season’s training schedule being what it was, it would have only been a short trip, which made it even harder to justify going.

Pasting on a bright smile, which felt false as fuck, he shook his head. “Yeah, nah. They’re all back in Adelaide. I was planning on crashing Whitmore’s Chrissy, but I think he only invited me out of pity.”

Jacobs smirked one of those infuriatingly smug smirks at him, and probably would have said something to get his hackles up if Ava hadn’t pointed at the bags he was still holding and asked, “Do I still get presents now?”

Finally, an easy question to answer.

Bailey grinned at her, handing over the first of the bags. “You sure do.”

She squealed and tore into the gift with glee, pulling out a selection of Barbie dolls, My Little Pony toys, books about unicorns and princesses, and more.

She thanked him effusively for each and every one, and when he held out the second bag, he said, “I pro’lly shoulda’ started with this one. It’s got some clothes and stuff in it. More boring than the first bag.”

Ava surprised him, though, by getting even more excited with the prospect of new clothes. She ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed over the outfits his sister had sent, getting particularly excited over a frilly pink swimming costume.

“Daddy, I can wear this to the beach,” she told him. “It’s got long sleeves so I don’t get burned.”

That was true, though it was a one piece which would still leave her legs exposed. Bailey wondered how long it might take her to adapt to the blistering hot rays of the Australian summer sun, or whether he shouldn’t also bring a vat of SPF 50 sunscreen over for Christmas, too.

“Poppet, Bailey and I are just going to have a grown-up talk, alright? Can you sit and play with your new things on your own for a bit?” Jacobs’ question caught Bailey’s attention, and he almost wanted to make a grab for Ava and use her as a human shield before she collected her new things and scampered off in the direction of the hallway, presumably to her bedroom.

Bailey watched her go with a mounting sense of dread before he turned and aimed his most apologetic smile at his coach. “I’m really sorry if I overstepped,” he started, holding up his hands in surrender before he could get reamed out by the older man, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d feel being thrown into parenthood so unexpectedly, and then when I was talking to my sister I remembered that she had a bunch of stuff which Sophie’s outgrown, and she was more than happy to send it over to help out a friend and—”

“Peters,” Jacobs interrupted, sounding on the cusp of amusement. “Shut up. I’m not going to bite your head off. It was a nice thing you did for her. I appreciate it.” He moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Water? Juice?”

“What, no beer?” Bailey teased, earning himself a raised eyebrow. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding. I know it’s mid-season. I’m not an idiot.” The eyebrow seemed to get higher. “Well, not always.”

Jacobs actually let out a short chuckle at that. Bailey’s stomach flip-flopped. Had he mentioned that he loved his coach’s smile?

Clearing his throat, he answered, “Water’s fine. Thanks.”

Jacobs handed him an ice-cold bottle and then led him over to the dining table. It felt strange to be sitting at his coach’s table, like an invited guest and not the weirdo who had taken it upon himself to bring a pile of gifts to his five-year-old.

“I’m actually glad you brought that stuff,” Jacobs admitted when the silence stretched into awkwardness. “She brought a single suitcase over with her and I had no idea where to start with buying her things. Ordered some shit off Amazon, but…well, you seem to have a better idea of what she needs than I do.”

“I’ve got a bunch of nieces,” Bailey shrugged. “Like…four of ’em. I’m only thirteen years older than the eldest one, but the youngest is eight, so it wasn’t that long ago that she was Ava’s age. And I’m a big kid myself, so I spend a lot of time with them.” His smile faded as the pang of missing his family hit him all over again. “I mean, I did. Not so much now that I’m living so far away.”

“I guess I’ve spent more time with my nephews than nieces,” Jacobs mused. “And most of ’em are in their teens now, too…and the oldest one is actually almost thirty.” He hung his head and carded his hand through his thick, dark hair. Bailey thought there was a hint of a curl there now that the cut had grown out. He had to blink and redirect his focus as Jacobs quietly admitted, “I’m lost here. Didn’t even think of Christmas bein’ around the fucking corner, did I? And I don’t give two shits what you reckon: Christmas shouldn’t be held on the surface of the bloody sun.”

Despite his best efforts to remain sympathetic, Bailey couldn’t contain his laughter.