CHAPTER 23 LINCOLN

The anniversary party is like a mini-family reunion. My mom has an older sister and an older brother, and they each have a few kids who are married with a few kids of their own, so we all meet at a restaurant in a suburb of New York City. There are a little over twenty of us here, give or take, and the hostess leads us to a private room with two long tables set up and a smaller table at the center of the room in the middle of what will be a dance floor if we're so inclined, and that's where my grandparents sit together. The six Nashes head right for them to issue hugs and many congratulations, but I can't get that thought from the car out of my head.

And as I glance over at my father, whose eyes are on me, I can't help but feel like he's to blame.

The odds of me ever celebrating sixty-five years married to another person are pretty much slim to none.

It's a morbid thought to have, but the chances of me making it to one-oh-one are not great. Especially not considering the life of a football coach. It's a terribly unhealthy lifestyle given the stress, irregular schedule, and eating habits of life on the road.

What would've happened with Jolene if my father hadn't intervened?

I'll never know the answer to that.

But knowing she and I are in the same town…I'm torn between lust and hate.

And if I spend too much time around her, I'm afraid lust will start to win out. And if lust wins, feelings won't be too far behind.

I push her out of my head. I have to. I'm here with my family, and if my father knew what sort of thoughts I was having, I can't imagine his response today if he took out his best friend all those years ago over it.

I hold his gaze for a few beats before Grayson punches me in the arm—right over the bruise he gave me earlier—and drags me over toward the bar.

I have a feeling my dad's going to corner me at some point. I'm frankly shocked he hasn't done it yet and I've been here for a whole twenty-four hours. I've caught up with everyone except him and my mom, but my time is coming.

And I'm not wrong.

It's as I'm heading toward the table, beer in hand, when he stops me in my pursuit of a chair and pulls me aside.

He glances around and sees nobody is in hearing distance. "When were you going to tell me Jolene Bailey is the new team correspondent?"

"I wasn't. It's irrelevant both to this weekend and to me."

He clears his throat. "I'd be remiss not to remind you what that family did to ours."

"I'm well aware, Dad." My tone comes out a little dry.

"Don't get tangled up again with her, son. Don't even think about it."

What would be so bad if I did? I mean…really. So he lost the bar.

It's ancient history at this point, but this man can hold a grudge like no other.

He's in a better place now, working with the Giants as a scout during college season to watch potential draft picks. He makes decent money doing that, and he has four successful kids who still offer to take care of him and his wife.

But he reminds me quickly why getting tangled up with her would be such a mess. "Listen, Lincoln. Getting involved with any reporter would be a huge mistake. It's a distraction for the team, and any scandal that eventually emerges involving you could potentially hurt both your reputation and the team's. You don't want that. It's unprofessional, and it's a conflict of interest, never mind the fact that she's a Bailey."

I hate to admit it…but he's right.

I'm brand new to this team, to this town. Banging a reporter less than a month after I arrive isn't exactly the way to keep my nose clean. "I hear you." I drain the rest of my beer, and he waits for me to finish before he takes his final shot.

"They already took enough from us," he says quietly. "I need your promise that you won't allow them to take more. I risked my entire career for you because of her, son. It doesn't matter how much time has passed. Getting anywhere near her would be a colossal mistake."

I blow out a breath.

He's assuming I'd tell her what he confessed to me all those years ago in the privacy of my bedroom just days after I took her virginity.

And if I told her that he intentionally injured her father so badly that it took him out of the game for good, she'd most certainly tell her father. And if she told her father, he'd run to the press—of which his daughter is a member. And if it got out, even now, my father wouldn't just lose his position as a scout. Joseph could sue him. He'd also lose the respect of his colleagues, his former teammates, his fans—he'd lose his entire reputation that he's worked hard to rebuild.

It's a lot for him to lose, never mind what I would be putting at risk personally by getting involved with her. And the way he sees it, all of it hinges on me staying away from Jolene.

It's been enough years that choosing between my family and her is my choice now. And the way I've bonded with my brothers this weekend, the possibility of bringing Grayson in to coach with me and of bringing Asher to the Aces…it's a lot to fuck up over feelings I had two decades ago.

But they're strong, intense, powerful feelings that have never left, and they resurfaced the moment I saw her in the flesh for the first time.

I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to fight against that.

It was easy when she was out of sight for the last twenty years.

She won't be out of sight anymore.

The tension hovering between my father and me feels unbearable, but I say the words I know he wants to hear anyway. "I promise, Dad. Okay? I'll keep my distance."

"Thanks, son," he says.

I'm proud of you.

Nope. Promising to stay away from the only girl I've ever loved for a second time still isn't enough to force those words to drop from his mouth.

And I'm afraid nothing ever will be.

Maybe it's time to rebel. If he's not going to be proud of me no matter what I do, why am I trying so goddamn hard even in my late thirties?

I just made a promise to him that I'd keep my distance from her…but when push comes to shove, we'll see if I hold onto that promise.

Maybe that old cliché is true and this promise is meant to be broken.