23. Carter

23

CARTER

“So… how long have you been sleeping with your nanny?”

The root beer float spews from my lips. That’s what I get for cashing in on my “dad tax” after climbing the long flight of stairs to buy Andy the sugary drink at the Minnesota Loons stadium.

I apologize to the teenage boys in front of me who caught the worst of the soda spray. They look pissed, but when they recognize me, they are quick to tell me it’s all good.

I continue on my way back to the seats where my family sits, preparing to watch Corey and the Texas Lonestars play in the sixth game of the World Series.

I wait until I’m far enough away to not be overheard by the teens currently recording my retreat with their cell phones before I look at Morgan over my shoulder and reply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

My little sister’s best friend snorts. “Please. I know you, Jones. And I know something is going on between you and Valerie.”

I don’t want to deny it. I want to shout that I’m the lucky bastard who convinced a woman as incredible as Valerie Palmer to date me at the top of my lungs.

But I can’t.

Not yet, at least.

I have no idea where this budding relationship will go, but I do know that I don’t want to risk screwing it up before it has the chance to begin. Something tells me that sharing the news after Valerie and I agreed to keep quiet would do just that.

But I wasn’t prepared for how difficult it would be to keep my distance from her.

My entire family has made the trip up to Minnesota to support Corey. He and a few of his teammates chartered a plane to fly their families and friends up to see the potential series-ending game. I spent the entire flight resisting the urge to sit next to the beautiful nanny who came along to look after the twins. Especially when I noticed the brother of a Lonestars player flirting with her.

Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like not having Valerie’s attention.

I didn’t stop Andy and Abby from insisting Valerie switch seats to play cards with them once the pilot turned off the seatbelt light. Not my proudest moment, but I’m not sorry about it. I wasn’t about to endure two hours of watching some idiot pine after my girl.

Other than subtle smiles and fleeting glances, I’ve kept my distance when the only thing I want to do is wrap my arms around Valerie and let the world know she’s mine.

It’s been six weeks since her birthday, and they’ve been the best weeks of my life. I never knew a relationship could be this easy. Once Valerie and I agreed to date, whatever reservations we’d held onto around each other had faded in the wind. I already knew she was funny and kindhearted, but these past few weeks with no barriers between us have let me see just how amazing of a person Valerie Palmer truly is. And our personalities blend together seamlessly.

Whenever I’m too serious from worrying about Laura or my position on the Rough Riders, Valerie’s levity and good humor bring me down to enjoy the moment I’m in. And whenever her mom sends a message that threatens to dim the light she’s shined into my home since the moment she first stepped through the doorway, I remind her just how remarkable she is and not to let one person’s opinion sway her own opinion of herself.

I’ve never had this sort of connection with anyone. The physical aspect of my past relationships always overshadowed any emotional connection. Maybe it’s because Valerie and I haven’t slept together since her birthday, but something tells me even if we were regularly intimate, it wouldn’t change how I feel about her.

Neither of us had said it out loud, but it felt wrong to be intimate with the twins in the house. And with Laura back to traipsing about Europe with her boyfriend, there hasn’t been a night where they aren’t in their beds.

Maybe it’s time for a sleepover at their grandparents…

I’m still a red-blooded man.

I constantly fantasize about the young woman who helps my kids orchestrate pranks to pull on me when I get home from a hard day of practice.

The feelings I’ve harbored for the beauty grow deeper each day. It’s reached the point where I’m eager to no longer keep our relationship a secret. Which is probably why I don’t make another attempt to disagree with Morgan’s remark.

My silence fuels her suspicions.

The meddling brunette snickers. “I knew it.”

“You don’t know anything.” I’m careful not to slip on the narrow concrete steps that lead to our seats just above the visitor’s dugout.

“Sure, Carter.” I can imagine her subsequent eye roll. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Shouldn’t you be worried about more important things? Like finally putting your dietician degree to use?” Morgan recently passed the certification to become a Registered Dietician and she’s been looking for work since the beginning of the summer.

She’s like a little sister to me, and while I enjoy messing with her, I do care about her wellbeing. I’ve been trying to convince her to let me introduce her to the Rough Riders’ nutrition team, but she refuses.

“I’ve got things under control,” she retorts. “Can you say the same?”

I scowl over my shoulder and nearly slip when the end of my tennis shoe lands on the edge of the next step. I quickly correct my footing and ask, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re playing better now than at the start of the season, but you’re hardly at your best. Maybe you should worry about important things. It may be time to revisit your nutritionist and training regimens to help reach your peak performance.”

“Damn, Morgan. Low blow.”

She pats my shoulder. “You need to hear it, Carter. It’s called tough love.”

“Well thank God I have you,” I deadpan.

She nods seriously. “I agree.”

Before I can come up with a retort to take her down a peg or two, Morgan shuffles past me and slides down the front row, past Dad and the twins, settling between my mom and sister. Carlee’s knees bounce up and down with nervous energy as she waits to see if her boyfriend’s team will have what it takes to win the game this evening and become world champions.

I’m shaking my head at the ball-buster brunette’s remarks and my sister’s anxious display when I feel someone’s gaze on me. My eyes shift and see Valerie’s deep green eyes locked on me from where she sits in the second row. For the tenth time today, I silently admire how pretty she looks in the Lonestars’ royal blue t-shirt. Not as pretty as when she wears Rough Rider red, but it’s still an attractive color. I smile softly at her.

Instead of returning my smile, Valerie’s eyes dart away. Her lips are pressed in a firm line.

Weird.

I school my features and retake my seat beside her, shivering as a crisp breeze blows by.

“Here you go, Andy.” I lean forward and hand my son his drink.

“Thanks, Dad!” He beams. He slurps the drink aggressively, earning an eye roll from his sister who delicately sips from her water bottle.

Abby and Andy wear matching baseball jerseys gifted to them by Corey. My childhood best friend has always been a sort of uncle figure to them, at least in stories, but since he’s moved back to Texas, he become a consistent figure in their lives.

And while Corey isn’t one to openly share his emotions, it’s obvious he loves my kids. I’m glad they have their Uncle Corey around. And I strongly suspect he’ll be a legit uncle soon enough.

“Excited for the game?” I ask Valerie innocuously, all too aware that though a chattering crowd surrounds us, our conversation will be easily overheard by those seated nearby.

“Yes.”

I wait for her to say more—or to at least look at me—but Valerie keeps her attention on the players warming up on the baseball field without saying another word.

I frown. She seems upset, but I can’t think of a reason why. I’ve hardly spoken to her since we left Dallas.

In my experience, giving a woman space is the safest course of action when you don’t know why she is upset. It was certainly the best way to avoid being on the receiving end of my sister’s anger whenever she wasn’t in a good mood when we were kids.

Abby’s laughter draws my attention to the row in front of me. She and Andy are sandwiched between Mom and Dad, babbling excitedly about school. They have a science fair coming up, and Abby is sharing different ideas for her project.

I’m not sure where Abby got her love for learning. I wasn’t the worst student in school, but I cared about athletics more than my classes. And from what I witnessed of Laura’s collegiate career, academics weren’t her specialty, either. It’s fun to see my daughter so excited about a school event at her age. I didn’t even know science fairs were a thing in elementary school, let alone that a kid of mine would be interested in participating.

“Those ideas all sound cool, Abby,” Carlee leans over and joins in the kids’ conversation with their grandparents. “Which one is your favorite?”

Abby pinches her lips together, looking serious as she mulls over her aunt’s question. “I saw a potato power a flashlight on a cartoon the other morning. I think I’d want to do that.”

Is that even real? I thought it was a joke.

I make a note to search the internet to see if potato electricity is possible. If Abby asks me to help with her project, I want to be prepared.

“You go girl,” Morgan jumps into the conversation too, holding out her fist to my daughter. “Show those Rose Hill teachers that a Jones kid can excel in school when they put their mind to it.”

“Hey!”

“Yeah, hey!” I second Carlee’s protest.

Abby chuckles as she fist-bumps Morgan. My parents, also, laugh.

“Sorry guys,” Morgan replies, not sounding apologetic at all. “I love you both, but neither of you were in the running for valedictorian.”

“I was a great student,” Carlee clips.

“And I was adequate,” I add with a rueful grin.

My family laughs again. Next to me, Valerie is oddly silent.

“The potato project sounds lovely, honey,” my mom tells Abby, gently nudging her shoulder in encouragement. “You should do it.”

Abby beams, but her smile falters the next moment. “I’m not sure,” she mumbles, looking down at her lap. “Mom said it sounded boring.”

Blood roars in my ears.

The noise in the stadium dulls in the background as I digest the absolute bullshit my ex said to our daughter. The only sounds that penetrate my anger are my pulse thumping in my ear and my rapid heartbeat pumping adrenaline into my bloodstream.

Mom clears her throat. “Oh, I see.” Her eyes dart to mine before focusing on her granddaughter once more. “Well, some people might think something is boring when other people like it.”

“Yeah, like baseball,” Morgan quips, doing a hell of a job appearing unaffected by my daughter’s reveal. But I see the way her hands are clenched into fists. She’s never liked Laura. Neither has Carlee.

“It’s like… super boring,” Morgan adds in a dramatic, valley-girl accent.

Abby’s lips twitch. “Yeah… baseball is kinda boring.”

“Totally,” Morgan says then waves a hand at the crowd. “But look at all these people here. They love baseball. They don’t think it’s boring at all.”

Abby purses her lips as she takes in Morgan’s words.

Andy lifts his hand in the air as if asking for permission to speak then promptly declares, “I think the science fair is cool, and it would be awesome if you could use a potato as a flashlight.”

Abby rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling when she says, “The potato won’t be a flashlight. It will power one.”

“Oh. How?”

“Science,” Abby says in such an obvious tone that we all can’t help but laugh again.

Andy grins bashfully but takes our amusement in stride.

My heart swells with love for my gentle-souled son, and his support of his sister penetrates through the worst of my angry haze.

The twins can fight like cats and dogs at times, but there’s no denying the love they share for one another. They’re constantly looking out for each other, and I am grateful they’re so close.

Mom wraps an arm around Abby and encourages her to explain the details of her project. She begins discussing things I had no idea she knew about.

Heck, I barely know anything about electrical current in wires. I might have a little genius on my hands.

I look over to catch Morgan’s gaze and give her an appreciative smile.

She dips her head in a subtle nod.

I’m not sure what Carlee’s told her about my recent issues with Laura, but I appreciate her help in showing Abby not everyone thinks the way her mother does.

Laura’s not a terrible mom. She loves the twins, but I wouldn’t say she was meant to be a mom.

Sometimes, I’m not certain I was meant to be a dad. It’s the most demanding job I’ve ever had—and it requires a level of selflessness I wasn’t sure I was capable of. But when your kids’ tiny hands wrap around yours and they look up at you with adorable grins—when they tell you how much they love you—all the struggles are worth it. Your life’s purpose becomes making sure they are taken care of and supported.

You certainly don’t abandon them or criticize their hobbies and interests just because it’s not something you like or understand.

“Excuse me.” Valerie stands, jolting me out of my thoughts. Her legs brush against my knees as she shuffles past me. I will her to look at me, but she keeps her eyes trained on the ground under her feet.

I watch, confused as hell, as Valerie climbs up the narrow steps toward the first-level concourse.

Something is wrong.

I debate going after her, but just as I go to stand, Andy asks, “Is Valerie okay, Dad?”

Shit.

I turn back around. My parents and sister look at me, as do the twins and Morgan. The latter’s brows are raised with meaning.

I exhale a short breath and settle back into my seat. “I’m not sure, buddy,” I tell my son. I bite the inside of my cheek to refrain from saying anything else.

My gut tells me I’m to blame for Valerie’s abrupt departure, but I’m at a loss for what I did to upset her.

Or how the hell I’m going to make it right… if I even can.