5. Carter

5

CARTER

There used to be a time when football helped me escape the shit going on in my life. Back in college, when Laura and I were dating, I could always count on practice to give me a reprieve from the drama that embodied my relationship. I wouldn’t trade the twins for the world, but man… I still can’t believe I was such an idiot and stayed with her through all that nonsense.

Even now, half a decade after officially ending our relationship, Laura finds ways to make my life miserable. Her latest tactic? Abandoning our kids and leaving me alone to try and explain what’s going on to them.

I blow out a harsh breath and pick up the forty-five-pound weights from the ground. I lean against the incline bench, take a breath, and begin my next set of bicep curls. I monitor my form in the mirror in front of me, trying and failing not to think about how bad I was during practice today.

The running backs smoked me the entire afternoon, and I couldn’t catch up to our receivers to save my life. Add in the fact I dropped an easy interception thrown by the team’s second-string quarterback, and there’s no denying I was an embarrassment today.

I’m better than that—I know I am. My athleticism is far from fading. It’s my mind that’s slowing me down. My personal life is distracting me from my game—something that’s never happened before. And I have no idea what to do about it.

I drop the weights back to the ground with a clatter. No one reacts. The locker room is filled with my teammates getting in their afternoon weightlifting sessions before heading home for the day. And while no one has said anything to my face, I know they’re talking about my shitty performance today. Hell, from the past week. Training camp just resumed for veterans, and I’m already making everyone wonder if I’m up for this upcoming season.

“I’m telling you, socials are where it’s at, man. Women just DM you. You don’t even have to pursue them,” Deon Walters, the young defensive lineman who earned the title as the best pass rusher in the league last year continues rambling on about his recent triumph using whatever popular dating app he downloaded last week.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, barely listening. I like most of my teammates, but I’m not going to lie, I feel myself losing brain cells when I listen to some of the younger guys talk. I’m only twenty-nine, but I swear, the generation gap between us feels as wide as the Grand Canyon sometimes.

“I’m serious, man. Just download the app. I promise you’ll have women throwing themselves at you within an hour.”

“I’m not interested in women throwing themselves at me.” I pick up the weights for my next set.

Rather than be dissuaded by my reply, Deon doubles down. “Come on, man. You need some stress relief or something. I haven’t seen you run so slow like… ever.”

I lower the weights before my final rep and look up at him with a frown. “A woman is hardly going to relieve my stress.” In my experience, they only complicate things. Like all the women I’ve tried to hire as a nanny for my kids only to have them throw themselves at me at the first opportunity.

I know using my personal experiences to paint the female sex with a broad brush isn’t fair. If I were in a better mental state, I wouldn’t do it. But my life’s been a mess for months now, and no matter how many times I try to get help in the form of a reliable nanny, they never work out.

Carlee and my parents say I’m too picky when it comes to choosing a nanny. I disagree. There’s nothing wrong with having standards for the person I will be trusting to care for the two people I love most in this world. And there’s nothing wrong with wishing I could find a nice, late-aged woman who has no romantic designs on me for the job. The only problem is most nannies in that category are either already hired by a big-wig businessman or athlete in the Dallas metro area, or they can’t be as flexible with the schedules as the upcoming NFL season requires.

The urge to bang my head against the wall hits me daily.

Deon huffs. “Well, whatever will relieve your stress, you should do it soon, man. You’re playing like shit.”

I bark a laugh. Trust Deon to not shy away from insulting me to my face. “I’m working on it.”

“Good.” He turns to the wall mirror and resumes his workout, leaving me to do the same.

I get in one set of shoulder presses when Deon, once again, interrupts, “Heads up, Coach is heading this way.”

Through the mirror’s reflection, I follow Deon’s gaze and see Coach Palmer weaving his way through the crowded locker room. The well-liked Defensive Coordinator exchanges words with nearly everyone he passes, but there’s no denying he moves in my direction.

I stand from the exercise bench and re-rack my weights with a sigh. It was only a matter of time before one of the coaches wanted to speak to me about my lackluster performance. I’d just hoped I’d be able to start turning it around before they did.

“Hey, Jones. Got a second?”

I straighten my spine then turn around and meet my favorite coach’s eye, doing my best not to let him detect my unease. “Yeah. Sure.”

He nods and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s go into the hall.”

Dozens of eyes follow me as I trail after Coach Palmer. The moment I’m out of earshot, the team will gossip about this situation like a bunch of preteens. I make a point to hide the emotion from my face and brace myself for what’s to come.

We step into the hall. I cross my arms as Coach Palmer closes the weight room door behind us. Movement from the corner of my eye draws my attention. A young woman stands there. Immediately, I look away, thinking she’s one of the guy’s girlfriends or something. But then my eyes snap back to her and my jaw drops as recognition hits me.

Valerie.

All at once, I’m hit with memories of a heated night spent between the sheets of my luxury resort bed.

Breathless moans fill my ears.

I feel her silky smooth skin against my rough fingertips.

Her long hair caresses my naked chest as she rides me from above.

Our night together had been mind-blowing. The ecstasy I experienced felt like a dream. A perfect dream. One I never wanted to end.

But not only did that dream end, it turned into one of the greatest disappointments of my life when I woke up alone.

I’d spent the entire day searching the resort for the woman who rocked my world, but I didn’t find her anywhere.

I felt crazy.

Part of me questioned if I’d imagined everything. I’d wondered if stress had finally broken me, causing me to invent the incredible sexual experience as a reprieve from my life’s worries.

But Dane assured me I didn’t imagine Valerie. The entrancing beauty was real. When he pointed out she might have a reason for sneaking out after our night together, I stopped my search. Even though the thought of never seeing or speaking to her again haunted me.

It still haunts me.

I’ve thought of Valerie too many times these past months, and I’m not just talking about the sex.

After we left dinner that night, we enjoyed drinks and spent hours connecting on a level I’d never experienced. I’ve dated many women, but being with them never felt easy. Or natural. Not in the way it did with her .

The connection has been impossible to forget, as was her unbelievable beauty and charm. Our evening together left a mark on me. I’ve been dreaming of one day having an opportunity to rekindle it even after she disappeared without giving me a way to contact her.

Now, here I am standing in front of her, gaping like an idiot who can’t find the words to say hello.

Get your shit together, man.

“Something wrong, Jones?”

I snap my mouth closed. “No, Coach.”

I fail when I try to pull my eyes away from the gorgeous young woman in front of me. Her face is free of makeup and she is dressed casually in a pair of dark leggings and an oversized white t-shirt. A purse hangs across her body. She doesn’t need fancy clothes or perfectly styled hair or makeup to be considered attractive. More than three months have passed since I last saw her. I’d forgotten how naturally beautiful she is, but it hits me like a freight train now.

From the corner of my eye, I see Coach looking between me and Valerie. “Do you know my daughter?”

My eyes snap to his.

Daughter?

I look at Coach Palmer, and it hits me that his dark hair is the same shade as Valerie’s. His eyes are brown while hers are green, but there’s no denying their shape is a near match.

Valerie is my coach’s daughter...

What the actual fuck...

Coach Palmer lifts a brow.

I clear my throat to speak, but Valerie beats me to it. “We’ve met before.”

His gaze shifts to his daughter. He frowns. “When?”

“Remember the girls' trip I took with Morgan?”

“Yes.”

“That’s when we met.”

Coach’s biceps flex when he crosses his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He looks angry.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not sure I’ll be able to fight off the older man if Valerie decides to tell him about our night together. Coach likes me, but I’m the father of a little girl. His like for me could be quickly forgotten depending on how much his daughter shares about what happened between us.

I brace myself for several different outcomes. Turns out, my unease is unwarranted.

With an air of indifference that is either an impressive acting performance or the truth of how she feels (in which case I’m insulted), Valerie says, “Because he was a stranger and it didn’t matter.”

Ouch.

And here I thought she and I had an explosive connection...

Coach isn’t so easily deterred. “You didn’t think to mention you met one of my players?” He lifts a single brow and levels a pointed look on his daughter.

“I didn’t know he was a player.”

Coach moves his interrogating stare to me. “No?”

I shrug. “I don’t go around bragging about my career while I’m on vacation.”

“Hm.” He stares at me for a prolonged moment. A bead of sweat gathers on the back of my neck. I tell myself it’s from my workout and not a sign that I’m scared of a middle-aged man.

After a lengthy stare-down, Coach’s arms fall to his side. He cracks a friendly smile and shakes his head. “Well, I’ll be. It’s a small world, eh?”

“Yeah.” The tension in my shoulders releases. “Small world.”

Valerie nods.

Coach hums under his breath, then shakes his head once more. “Well, let me get straight to the point, Jones. I know you need to finish your workout so you can take the twins home.”

I nod for him to continue.

“Valerie is going to be in town for the summer and just so happens to be looking for a job.”

What happened to her job at the big-shot accounting firm?

“I am not looking for a job,” Valerie corrects him with a frown.

Her dad waves a hand. “Maybe not right now, but you’ll get bored if you don’t have something to do.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, the man who raised you and had to watch you behave like a caged tiger whenever you broke your leg sophomore year and couldn’t leave the house except to go to school for six weeks.”

Valerie presses her lips together, her features tightening in what I can only describe as discomfort, but she doesn’t argue.

I look between the father and daughter as they stare at each other. I clear my throat. “Not to be rude, Coach, but what does this have to do with me?”

Coach’s stare returns to me. “You still need a nanny, right?”

Oh... no.

My eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights.

I know where this is going. I can see the conversation play out in my mind, but there is no way I can have a woman I’ve slept with be my nanny. That’s the exact sort of thing I’ve been trying to avoid.

But how do I say that to Coach Palmer without admitting that I hooked up with his daughter? The same daughter I’ve heard him talk about with so much love and affection that I pictured a young teenager with gangly limbs and braces, not the stunning beauty who’s starred in every single fantasy while I’ve taken care of myself in the months since we slept together. And I do mean Every. Single. Fantasy.

Both Coach and Valerie are looking at me, waiting for a response. I swallow past the lump in my throat and say, “Technically, yes. I’m still looking for a nanny.”

“Perfect. Valerie can do it. She was a nanny in high school for a summer and did a great job. And she just moved back into town, so she doesn’t have any commitments that would hinder her working a flexible schedule to accommodate training and preseason games coming up.”

“Dad,” Valerie says in a low voice. “Stop.”

“What? I’m just saying this is a perfect situation. You need something to do, and Carter needs someone trustworthy to look after his kids. It’s an ideal situation.”

It would be ideal if I didn’t know what Valerie looked like naked.

Valerie shifts her feet, no doubt having a similar thought. “Dad, you can’t force this kind of thing. Carter probably wants to get to know me better before agreeing to trust his kids’ care to me.”

“Yeah.” I bob my head, latching onto her excuse, unable to verbalize one of my own. “We should talk first.”

Coach scowls, ready to protest, but he’s interrupted when our head coach, Garret Owens, sticks his head out of the office down the hall and hollers, “Palmer, got a second to go over practice stats?”

“Yes, sir,” Coach calls back.

Coach Owens ducks into the office.

Palmer looks between me and his daughter. “Fine. I’ll leave you two to discuss the details, but I expect both of you to realize this solves everyone’s problems. Including the team,” he directs the last remark to me with a meaningful look.

He steps past us to join Coach Owens, but not before clapping a firm hand on my shoulder. It’s a normal gesture from him, but one that feels like a bit of a warning.

We both know things can’t continue the way they’ve been going. He hasn’t said it out loud, but if I don’t shape up, I know there are at least two guys on our roster who would love to step into my position and have the chance to make a name for themselves this season. I’m not old, but I’m not young by any means. My time in the league is limited enough. I can’t spend the few good years I have left performing at a subpar level.

Both Valerie and I are silent as we watch him walk down the hall. It isn’t until the head coach’s office door closes that I feel those stunning green eyes land on me.

“Nice to see you again, CJ .”

My lips tilt into a sheepish smile. “Caught that, did you?”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “You mean the fact you gave me a fake name? Yeah, I caught that.”

It takes effort to keep my eyes on her face and not the long leg that she kicks out to pop out her hip.

“It’s not technically a fake name. My initials are Carter Jones.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “You intentionally didn’t give your real name so I wouldn’t know who you are.”

“Well... why would I?”

She balks. “Because that’s the polite thing to do.”

I shrug. “I don’t like to be taken advantage of.”

“So that means you have to lie about your name?”

“Again, it wasn’t technically a lie. Those are my initials.”

“So people call you CJ?”

“No. Do people call you Val?” I try to turn the tables on her. It doesn’t work.

“Actually, yes, some people do.”

I take in her smug expression and chuckle. She’s trying to look firm, but her freckled nose and stunning green eyes diminish the effect. She’s adorable as well as beautiful. I keep the observation to myself. Something tells me she wouldn’t appreciate it.

When I don’t respond, Valerie sighs. “Look, I agreed to the nanny job before knowing who you were. I can be professional, but if this situation is too weird for you, I get it. I’ll make up an excuse to tell my dad why I can’t take the job.”

Her words feel like an insult and a challenge at the same time.

Too weird for me ?

Shouldn’t this situation feel weird for her too?

It’s my turn to cross my arms, pushing out my biceps to showcase my muscles. “You’re telling me you’d be okay working for me after ... that night.” The southern gentleman my mom worked hard to raise won’t allow me to say the words out loud. Not in this hallway where my teammates could walk by and hear.

Valerie raises her brows. “I would’ve thought you’d be unaffected by one-night stands considering you’re a big-shot football star.”

“You thought wrong.” My quick response wipes the smirk off her face.

Uncertainty flickers in her gaze. It hits me that Valerie might be the one who is used to one-night stands, and the idea puts a sour taste in my mouth.

She clears her throat and averts her gaze. “Well, regardless... I’ll think of something to tell my dad. Don’t worry about it.”

That would work except I don’t think Coach Palmer will accept the decision so easily. I run through different options in my head, and I settle on the only one that seems like it’ll work. At least for the time being.

“How about this, let’s do a trial run. You can meet the kids. If you get along, we can discuss hours and pay and all that.” With any luck, she and the twins won’t be a good fit, and we’ll be able to tell her dad that’s the reason she can’t be my nanny. He never has to know all the ways she used my body for her pleasure and rode my di?—

“Are you sure?” Valerie interrupts my errant thoughts. She eyes me warily. Once again, her words feel like a challenge.

If Valerie can be unaffected by the thought of working for me even after our night together, then why can’t I feel the same?

Maybe I’m the only one who felt the connection...

Maybe I made it all up in my head...

Besides, Coach thinks he’s helping me, and I need to perform this year. I can’t be distracted. If Valerie can be a reliable nanny and take care of the twins, that will take a huge weight off my shoulders.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m sure.”

Her arms fall to her side. “Okay... cool.” She shifts her weight, uncertain. “So...when do you want me to meet your kids?”

“How about tomorrow morning?” It’s one of the few Saturdays I’ll have off for a while.

“Tomorrow works.”

“Great. Do you have your phone on you to take down my number?”

Since you disappeared before I could give it to you after our night together...

“Yup.” She takes her phone from her purse and hands it to me.

I type in my number and hit the call button before immediately ending the call. “There. I’ll text you the address later today.”

“Okay.” She takes her phone and tucks it back in her purse. “What time do you want me there so I can plan my day?”

Does she have plans with a boyfriend or something?

Knock it off, Carter. Don’t be pathetic.

“Does nine work?”

She nods. “Sure.”

“Great.” I turn to leave, then remember something else. “Oh, be sure to bring your own coffee. I don’t touch the stuff.”

“What?” She blinks. “Really? Who doesn’t drink coffee.”

I know she means the words as a joke, but I’m unable to stop myself from saying. “Yeah, really. You’d know I don’t drink coffee if you’d bothered to stick around in the morning.”

Her lips part in surprise.

I bite the inside of my cheek and walk away before I can say anything else.

If this nanny thing is going to work out, I need to put the memories of our night together in the past. I can’t let her know how much it stung to be ghosted in the middle of the night like that. And I can’t let her know how often I think about our time together.

I’m Carter Jones.

I’m known as a good-natured and laid-back guy.

I don’t get hung up on women, and I certainly don’t pine after ones who want nothing to do with me.

Especially not when that woman is my favorite coach’s daughter.

Ah, hell .

This is going to be a shit show.