Completing the Pass (21 page)

Not offended, she shrugged and continued washing the lettuce. “Your mom needed help setting up a buffet for a bunch of hungry men.”

“Huh.” He stood a ways off for another few moments, and she had the sense he was letting that sink in. Then he walked over and kissed his mother's cheek, whispering something in her ear that had her grinning. Then, to Carri's shock, he came over and wrapped is arms around her stomach and hugged her back against him.

“What—” she began, but he cut her off with a quick kiss on the mouth. “Okay, then?”

“Thanks for helping,” he said simply, then stepped away as if that were a completely natural thing for them to do in front of his mother. Then he began rolling up the cuffs of his button-down shirt. “Guys will be here in an hour. What do you need from me?”

***

An hour and a half later, Josh sat at a table laden with food and surrounded by bodies. His mother looked happy enough to burst. Carri sat beside him, quietly soaking it all in. The guys were an intimidating bunch, she had to admit, thanks to their sheer size and general job descriptions. But they were all pretty good guys, and she'd relaxed as she met each one individually. Trey, she already knew, and he'd greeted her with a hug. Matt, too, though the hug he'd bestowed upon Carri had been a little too long in Josh's estimation. Cassie had come with Trey, and the two girls had disappeared for a while to chat before the table had been officially set.

Josh loved that she was getting to know his teammate's wife. It was just the sort of thing he would want his girlfriend to do. One step closer.

“Could someone pass down the potatoes?” Matt asked from the end of the table. Josh looked down and snorted.

“Sure thing.” He picked up the bowl and handed it to Carri, who continued passing them on. “Send those down to the kid's table.”

The guys cracked up, and Matt scowled at him. Gail didn't have a dining-room table long enough to accommodate the group, so she'd had Josh drag in the kitchen table. It was about five inches shorter than the dining-room table, though, giving the illusion of being demoted to the kid's table at a wedding.

“You
would
sit me at the tiny table,” Matt grumbled, but smiled as he scooped a healthy serving of roasted red potatoes onto his plate. “But I'm not even gonna complain, because your mother's cooking makes me miss home.”

Several of the other guys around the table nodded, as did the few women who had attended with their men.

“Yes, it's delicious, Ms. Leeman, thank you so much for hosting us.” Anya, Josiah Walker's fiancée, spoke around his shoulder toward the head of the table.

“I love it,” Gail said warmly. “Love having the company. Josh is an only child . . .” She paused, and Josh knew her well enough to know she was composing herself to keep the tears out of her eyes. “I would have loved for him to have a dozen brothers and sisters. Wasn't in the cards. So this, here, makes my heart smile.”

He reached down below the table for Carri's hand. She squeezed it back and let him rest his palm on her knee for the remainder of the meal.

After his team had left, he helped his mother and Carri clean up the dishes. But Gail shooed them out, saying she just needed the tables returned to their rightful positions and she would take care of the rest. After replacing the kitchen table, Josh grabbed Carri's hand and pulled her back toward his bedroom. Or rather, his childhood bedroom.

“Wow.” Carri walked in behind him, looking all over. “It looks the same as the last time I saw it.”

“When was that?” He sat on the bed and pulled her down beside him.

“Uh, I don't know. Middle school? Early high school? After that, I wasn't allowed in boys' bedrooms.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “Don't get any ideas, mister. Your mom's in the kitchen.”

“No promises.” He cupped her chin, kissed her softly, then rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

“I washed lettuce,” she joked.

“Thank you for coming over. Thanks for just . . . being what I need. What I want.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

After another minute of silence, she sighed. “I should probably get back. Mom needs help still, and I've been absent a lot lately.” Her face turned red, and she covered it with her hands. “How bad is it that I still regret having to do this? That I still hate that my life is being dictated by something totally out of my control? That I didn't actually choose to come back? That I'll have to make that heartbreaking choice of getting rid of my life in Utah because I can't stand to see my dad suffer?”

He stroked her back, and the wheels began to turn. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know it's hard.”

“It's impossible,” she growled, scrubbing fiercely at her face to dry the tears he knew she'd shed. “I hate this whole
life being decided for you
crap. It's the moms and their destiny talk all over again. Matchmaking from the cradle. How pathetic is this that I even care?”

He stayed quiet and just continued to rub her back.

“I want to make the choice. If it's not my choice, does it really count? Am I really living? Or am I just existing here, biding my time?”

He didn't want that at all. Didn't want her staying only because she thought she lacked options. Knowing Carri, it would drive her so crazy she would eventually do something rash and stupid. “Maybe there's another solution.”

“There's not.” She said it with such finality that Josh's heart clenched. “This is it. I've been avoiding the idea, but this is all there is. I should just have Jess start looking at putting my houses on the market. I can't leave Mom alone with Dad forever, and so . . .” She let her hands rise and fall again in a gesture of hopelessness.

He kissed her temple, then grabbed her hand. “Let me walk you home, okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low. “Sure.”

Two weeks—and two games where Josh played all four quarters—later, Carri sat, sketching in the same pad she'd been taking with her to the vacant house. Anytime she'd needed some alone time, and Josh had been unavailable, she'd found herself here, at the foreclosed home. This time, she sketched the interior, or what she guessed it would look like, since there was no way to get in. Stupid. She should have been making plans for putting the Utah houses on the market.

Jess had called to ask for an extension on employment. As it turned out, watching her boss flip homes hadn't meant she knew what she was doing. Unexpected expenses were cropping up, and she needed more time with a steady paycheck before she could step out on her own. Carri had been only too happy to accept the extension, as it gave her more time to delay the inevitable. She had only a few weeks before Jess was no longer working for her. A few weeks to get her shit together and make the final choice.

Her phone rang, and she reached for it, half hoping it was Jess making her job easier. Half hoping it wasn't.

It was Cassie, as it turned out. “Hey, girl. Come have lunch with me.”

“Lunch?” She checked her watch. She'd lost over an hour sketching and thinking. “I've got my dad with me. Sorry.”

“Bring him, if you can. Can you?”

Carri sighed. It had been a good morning. There probably wasn't any reason why not. And Cassie was a sweetie. If she needed help with her father, the other woman would assist without question. “Yeah, sure. Where are we meeting you?”

They met her at a deli that was, according to Carri, close to the headquarters of the Bobcats organization. They ordered food to go—Cassie's insistence—and then got in Cassie's car for a quick field trip. “Humor me,” was all the other woman had said.

And then they were at a stadium. The one, Carri knew, where the Bobcats held practice. “Should, uh . . . should we be here?” she asked Cassie as the woman parked in staff parking and got out of the Escape.

“Hell yeah.” Cassie grinned. “If I can't check in on my man at work, what kind of world is this?”

“Let's go!” Herb was out of the car and walking with Cassie before Carri could even check if he was okay with it.

“Clearly, you are,” she muttered to herself, then got out and followed the other two into the stadium. Cassie led them up a few bleacher steps to sit, then told them they could eat their lunches here while they watched. She pointed out where the quarterbacks were working, and then a few other special teams or groups.

But Carri had eyes only for Josh. Even without numbers, she easily picked him out. She watched as he practiced with handoffs, with low pitches . . . Did that even sound like she knew what she was talking about? Because she didn't. Football was still, largely, a mystery to her.

But when she looked at her father, saw the joy he was getting by being there, she knew she wouldn't have traded it for anything.

Reaching over, she squeezed Cassie's forearm in silent thanks. Cassie squeezed her hand back, then leaned close and whispered, “The guys are about to wrap up practice. Let's go throw the trash away. I wanna talk for a minute before we're surrounded by testosterone.”

“Sure. Dad, we'll be back in a minute. We'll just be down there, throwing away the trash, okay?” She pointed, and Herb nodded distractedly, still watching.

“There's nowhere for him to go,” Cassie assured her. “He'd have to walk right by us to leave.” As they hit the pavement, they wandered over to the trash can and tossed their leftovers and wrappers away. “So, how are things with you and Josh?”

“Ha.” Carri dug her thumbs into the corners of her eyes for a moment of simple relief. “They're . . . great. Which is awful.”

Cassie didn't question that confusing statement, which just meant she was either very familiar with the sentiment, or she was an expert in empathy.

“So I have to start making choices. It sucks. It really does.”

“I know.” Cassie started to say something else, but her eyes caught on something over Carri's shoulder, and she pulled back. “Okay,” she said in a low voice. “This is a little odd, but there's a guy standing at the fence, and he's been staring at us for several minutes now.”

“Newsperson?” she whispered in question. Cassie shook her head. Carri stretched, as if working a kink out of her neck, then froze. “That's . . . Oh, hell no.”

“Who? Carri? Who is it?”

But Carri was already on a mission. She marched over to the fence, fists clenched, ready to do battle.

***

Josh jogged off the field, ready to hit the showers and call Carri to set up dinner. Not that she knew those were his plans, but he could always hope. When he caught sight of a man in the bleachers waving, he took a second look, and realized it was Herb. “What the . . .” He sprinted over, mind racing a mile a minute. Had he made his way over by himself? Was Carri here? Did Herb need help?

As he reached the stadium steps, he heard some shouting by the fence. A few guys ran that way, but he kept heading for Herb.

“Joshua.” With a wide grin, Herb reached out an arm to wrap around him. “Good to see you, good to see you.”

“Hey, Herb.” As carefully as possible, he hugged the older man. “Did Carri come with you?”

The man who had been as much a father to him as friend grinned. “She did. She, well, huh.” He glanced around him, as if surprised Carri wasn't sitting beside him. “Oh, that's right. She went to throw away the trash with that other one. The Owens girl.”

The Owens girl. Josh grinned. Trey would get a massive kick out of that title . . . and he had a feeling Cassie would not. “Where'd they head?”

Just then, he heard a few deep voices raised down below.

Herb shrugged, then pointed. “Down there.”

Josh held up a hand. “I'll be back, okay? Just . . . hang here.” Then he took off at a jog. Something just told him Carri was involved in whatever the guys were watching. He came to a halt at the small crowd, including a few security guys who had joined the fray. Bumping into another teammate, he asked, “What's going on?”

“Some chick's giving a peeping Tom the riot act,” was all he said, craning his neck to see better himself.

Just then, someone grabbed his arm and hauled him through the crowd. He noticed Trey just as he broke free of the crowd. “Your little Carri is ripping into some guy over there. Might wanna break that up before the security kicks her out. Cassie can only keep them from intervening for so long.”

He finally turned and found the visual proof of the problem. Carri stood on their side of the chain-link fence, giving hell to his father, Jim, on the other side.

“Just let me in, damn it,” Jim growled. “He's my son, and I need to talk to him.”

“You'll never get near him again if I can help it,” she hissed. “You're a sad sack of an excuse for a man.”

His father's tone turned whiny. “I just need a chance—”

“You had
twenty years
of chances!” she shouted. “What kind of real father needs that many opportunities? You're not his family. He has a family, and you're not it. He has his team, and his mom, and me, and my parents, and—”

“Okay, baby, okay.” Seeing she was walking the edge of angry tears, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against him.

“Josh,” Jim said sharply. “Just open the damn gate and let me in. You're letting your woman cause a scene.”

Carri vibrated under his grip, and he knew it was time to shut this down, not just for the sake of those watching, but because if he didn't get her out of there, Carri's head might pop off. “Hey, guys?” he said, motioning to the nearest security guy. “He has no business here. Can you just send him on his way?”

The closest security guard nodded sharply. “Got it.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jim shouted, but Josh was already walking away with Carri still wrapped in his arms. The team parted, then collectively turned their backs on the raving man standing at the fence, yelling about ungrateful assholes who couldn't remember where they came from.

“Let's head to the locker room, y'all,” Josiah called, starting to push the team in that direction. Josh shot him a look of gratitude, and Josiah nodded in acknowledgement. A few players lingered, but Stephen rounded them up with a
don't fuck with me
glare, and they scurried off, duly chastised.

Carri still shook with anger, or nerves—maybe both—as he guided her toward the stadium where he'd left Herb. “Let's get Herb, and I can take you home.”

“Oh my God.” She froze, dead in her tracks, and he nearly trampled her as he had to brake fast himself. “I left Dad. Oh my God.”

“He's fine. I saw him a minute ago.” They rounded the corner and caught sight of Cassie sitting with Herb, talking easily. “See?”

“I could marry her if she weren't already married,” Carri murmured. “And if she were into women. Which we both aren't. So that's a nonstarter.”

“How about we give them a few more minutes to chat, and you relax,” he suggested, smoothing back a piece of hair that curled around the edge of her eyelashes. “You're going to scare small children and confused fathers with this look in your eye.”

“Nagging banshee?”

“I prefer to see it more like sexy warrior princess.” He looked around the corner again, and Cassie caught his eye.

“Hey, Herb,” she said loudly enough they could both hear her. “Have you met my dad yet? Coach Jordan? Yeah, the head coach. He'd love to say hi. I see him down there on the turf. Let's take a quick walk and say hello. Oh, that's okay. Josh and Carri won't get lost. They'll come find us when they're ready.”

He watched as Cassie walked with Herb down the few stadium steps, her arm hooked around his, pausing when he had trouble. God, Trey had a good woman.

“There. See?” Josh pointed. “Your dad's about to meet the entire coaching staff. He'll be in heaven. You don't want to tear him away from that experience, do you?”

“No,” she said in a small voice, and they watched as Herb walked with Cassie across the short infield to the grassy sidelines where the small cluster of coaches talked. “He won't be bothering them, will he?”

“Cassie wouldn't bring him over there if he was. Trust her,” he asked, then pulled her up to the top step. When she was settled, he asked, “What possessed you to go head-to-head with my father like that?”

“Because you shouldn't have to do it alone.” She sniffled, and he could tell the adrenaline of the confrontation was catching up with her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. “You told me the other day about how he used to corner you, catch you when you were vulnerable, keep you from telling your mom. How you kept it secret all these years because you were embarrassed about it. And I hated it. Hated thinking of you dealing with that—with him—alone. Because you're not alone,” she said, voice breaking. Then the tears came, and she let her head fall onto his shoulder and cried.

“No,” he murmured into her hair, rubbing her back. “I'm not alone. I know that. You reminded me.”

She shuddered in a breath.

There were times to be quiet, and times to act. And Josh felt, with every fiber of his being, it was time to act.

“You know,” he began in a mild tone, “we've known each other since before we could talk.”

She let out a watery groan.

“I know, but listen.” He ran a hand down her hair, over her back. “Since before we could walk. Before we knew the difference between boys and girls.”

“Which you were happy to show me when you were three,” she reminded him in a stuffed-up voice. “You were incredibly pleased with your tiny penis back then.”

“A guy has his pride. Hush.” He kissed her temple, and she wiped a few tears off her cheek. “You were like a part of the fabric of my world. My house, my mom, my bedroom furniture, you, my backyard . . . You're knit in there so tight, there's no
Josh's past
without Carrington Gray in there. And I think that's how it always would have been, even if you'd never come back home. If we'd never seen each other again. You would have been this little footnote in my life.”

She went very still, and he wanted so badly to know what was going on in her mind.

“But,” he continued, when it was clear she wasn't going to give him a hint, “you did come back. And you showed up in my life again. This version of you could have been footnote number two.” His lips brushed against her forehead. “But I don't just want another footnote. I want so much more now. I want you to stay. I want you to stay with me, here. I love you. Please don't just be a footnote. Be the whole book with me.”

She breathed heavily. “Wow,” she said after a moment. “Wow.”

So . . .
Wow
wasn't quite the reaction he was looking for. Maybe more like,
That's good because I love you too, Josh. I want to be with you, too. I'm moving back here forever and ever.

Wow
seemed a bit . . . like,
Thanks, but no thanks
.

Over her head, he caught sight of Cassie walking slowly back with Herb, arm in arm.

“We'll table it for now. Here comes your dad. Think you can manage on the way home?”

She sat up straighter and knuckled away the last of the moisture. “Yeah, I can.”

“Good.” He kissed her cheek, and stood, holding out a hand. “Give me ten minutes to change and I'll drive you two back to your car.”