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Authors: Cindy Roland Anderson

BOOK: Fair Catch
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Nick peeled his dirty shirt off and tossed it in the laundry room before going into the living room where he’d left his suitcase. The setting sun cast an orange hue on the plush off-white carpet. He moved in front of the large picture window and reached out a hand to close the wood blinds. His heart almost stopped beating as he stared with incredulity at the house across the street. Of all the rotten luck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Laughing
derisively, Nick shook his head in disbelief. The gorgeous blonde from the jogging trail stood by her mailbox across the street, sorting through the contents. The little boy who liked Oreos was standing beside her. Then they walked into the house, which meant she was the kid’s mom.

Perfect.

She was married.

Disappointment twisted his gut as he grabbed his duffel bag and headed upstairs. No wonder she’d run away from him—she was a married woman. To think he’d actually fantasized about running into her again, hoping to get to know her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced such a powerful instant attraction. Sure, he noticed women and appreciated them, but he felt drawn to this woman in a way he couldn’t explain. Why would he feel that way and why now? She was married!

Grumbling to himself, Nick grabbed a towel so he could take a long, hot shower. As the water cascaded over him, he tried to erase the pixie face with blue eyes or had they been green?
Shoot
. He needed to stop thinking about her. Period. Coveting someone else’s wife or committing adultery weren’t on his list of top ten things to do in Colorado.

When the water started to run cold, he shut it off and climbed out into the steamy bathroom. Instead of making him tired, the shower had revived him. Still, he didn’t feel like going downstairs and unpacking. After he quickly made up his bed, he grabbed his laptop and climbed up on the bed.

With his back against the headboard, he checked his email. Both of his sisters had sent him a message, wishing him well in his new home. They both promised to come and see him as soon as they could. With their families and busy lives, he knew it would be a while before he entertained them. His mom also sent him a message, giving him the name of her friend who was an interior designer and lived in Denver. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

His eyes skimmed over the attachment from Alec that had his schedule for the next month, including meetings with local businesses. Now that he was retired, he could put all of his energy into his charity:
Kids Come First
.

During his career as a professional football player, Nick had invested his money wisely. His financial position would allow him to support a family, along with continuing the humanitarian work he loved so much. His MBA—something that had taken four off-seasons to complete—helped to manage his growing charity.

Nick read and answered his email until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Closing the laptop, he put it on the dresser and turned off the lamp. Laying his head on the pillow, he drifted off to sleep and hoped when the morning came, his fascination with his neighbor would be gone.

* * *

Early the next morning, Ellie got up before Cade so she could take a long shower without the fear of him escaping. She’d had a restless night’s sleep. It was stupid, but she kept dreaming about the good-looking guy from the jogging trail. At least dreaming about him was a good replacement of the nightmares her ex-husband usually accompanied—anything would be.

After applying makeup, she worked on her hair. It was probably time for a trim, but she liked having long hair, and thanks to
DevaCurl
, a product she’d discovered a few months ago, her curls were soft and beautiful. Just last week, a couple of girls from church said her hair looked like Taylor Swift’s. Reaching for the bottle, she applied the cream to her hair until she got the desired result.

She walked into the kitchen and opened the blinds, the bright sunshine flooding the room. Reaching up, she pulled the pancake mix from the cupboard and paused when her eyes caught the wall calendar. Seeing the date of Thomas’s arrival circled in red made her stomach tumble. She still hadn’t told Cade.

Letting out a long breath, Ellie realized she would probably have to take Cade to California. Thomas said he was sending her the passes, but she wouldn’t believe it until she saw it. Even if he did, she couldn’t afford to fly and would have to drive all by herself. But what choice did she have?

As she prepared breakfast, Ellie heard her doorbell. She guessed it was Betsy coming over to coerce her into being neighborly. Sure enough, Betsy stood on her porch, holding a pan of unbaked bread.

“Ellie, do you mind baking this for me?”

She eyed Betsy suspiciously. That was not the question she had expected. “Are you sure you trust me?” Ellie was cursed when it came to making bread.

Betsy grinned. “You get the easy part. It’s a small loaf so bake it for fifty-five minutes.” She glanced at the clock. “I just have to run a quick errand. I should be back right as it’s done.”

“Okay.” Ellie took the pan. “But if something happens to it, don’t blame me.”

Betsy waved. “Nothing will happen. I’ll be back soon.”

After closing the door, Ellie went back to the kitchen and preheated the oven. She resisted the temptation to snitch a piece of the dough and finished making the pancakes. A few minutes later, Cade stumbled into the kitchen as she slid the loaf of bread in the oven and set the timer. In his pajamas, he still looked like such a little boy. “Hey, sweetie. Did you have a good sleep?”

Cade yawned. “Uh huh.” He climbed up onto a barstool. “I’m hungry.”

Her mouth curled into a smile as she lovingly placed a plate of hotcakes in front of him. Anticipating his next request, she gave him his SpongeBob cup filled with strawberry milk. This was about the only time of the day Cade was docile. Once the sugar hit his blood stream, he would be off and running.

The aroma of the baking bread permeated the air. If Betsy didn’t return in time, Ellie wouldn’t be able to resist cutting a slice. The tantalizing smell let her know it wasn’t wheat bread, but Betsy’s famous apple-cinnamon bread. It was actually a blessing Ellie couldn’t bake bread—she loved it and would be as big as a barn if she could make the stuff.

But then again, maybe not. She
did
chase after a four-year-old until the sun went down.

* * *

Nick pumped the iron weights, his muscles straining with each rep. After possibly the worst night’s sleep in his life, he got up early to set up his gym. He hoped the workout would get his mind off of the woman with the blonde curls.

It was working…until he thought about her again and how unfair the whole thing was. The sooner he officially met her—and her husband—the better off he would be. If not, he might have to resort to selling his house.

He shook his head and growled as he started another set of reps. What was wrong with him, anyway? This move had completely unsettled him. For one thing, he felt more anxiety than his first live professional football game. He really needed to plan a party before he begged his mother to come visit him.

When his arms felt like they were going to burst, he placed the bar on the bracket and sat up. A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of his face as he grabbed a hand towel and wiped his forehead.

He stood up and drained the last of his water bottle. The liquid did very little to alleviate the hollow feeling in his stomach. Today he needed to figure out a way to get a few groceries. In California, he had them delivered to his house which helped him avoid the long delays from signing autographs. Hopefully he could set up the same kind of thing here.

After showering, Nick dressed and went downstairs. Just as he opened his laptop to search for a local grocery store, the doorbell chimed. Since he didn’t know anyone other than the Stewarts, he hoped it was Betsy bringing him something to eat.

He swung open the door and felt his heart slam against his chest wall. The breathtaking mother of Cade stood on his doorstep, holding her son’s hand. Betsy was next to her grasping a loaf of bread that smelled unbelievably good.

Recognition dawned in the younger woman’s blue-green eyes. Was it from last night or was she a fan?

“Nick, you remember Cade?” Betsy grinned and pulled the woman forward. “This is his mother, Ellie Garrett.”

Ellie stared at him but didn’t say anything. Betsy nudged her in the arm. “Say hello to Nick Coulter.”

Ellie pressed her lips together, studying him through somewhat narrowed eyes. He tried not to smile at her reaction. Usually when people met him, they were either stunned and silent or excited and talkative.

She must be the former. “Nice to meet you, Ellie.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

She didn’t move.

Betsy started to giggle. “I bet you get this all the time, don’t you?”

Nick dropped his hand and pulled his eyes away from the blonde, giving Betsy a crooked grin. “Well, never with homemade bread.”

“Ellie baked you this bread.” Betsy transferred the loaf to Nick.

He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, this smells really good.” He couldn’t help thinking how lucky her husband was.

“You…You’re…” Ellie swallowed hard as her eyes flickered over to Betsy. When her gaze returned to Nick’s, she almost looked angry. “I…Cade, let’s go.” She abruptly grabbed her son’s hand, dragging him away.

She
was
angry. At him?

Betsy’s forehead furrowed as she watched Ellie leave. She looked as stunned as Nick felt. Watching her walk away, Nick shook his head. That had never happened to him. Ever.

Betsy offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t think she’d react that way.”

“I guess she isn’t a Defenders fan.” He tried to sound as if it didn’t bother him.

“It’s not that…and it isn’t you.” Betsy blew out her breath. “Her ex-husband was a complete idiot.”

Ex-husband?
His chest expanded with relief as he fought back the urge to smile. She wasn’t married?

Betsy looked once again at their neighbor’s house and sighed. “She really is a nice person.”

Nick winced when Ellie slammed her door shut. “I’m sure she is. Really, don’t worry about it. I’m not offended.” He was just a little confused. Most people, especially women, liked him.

As Betsy walked away, Nick stepped back inside his house and closed the door. Good news: He didn’t have to sell his house after all.

* * *

Racing home as fast as her little boy would allow, Ellie shook her head in disbelief. A laugh escaped, and she covered her mouth, hoping nobody heard.

Nick Coulter?
Her new neighbor was Nick Coulter? Mr. Most Beautiful Person and most eligible bachelor. Mr. Most Valuable Player—oh yeah, he was a player all right. It was more like most valuable playboy. How could Betsy even think she’d be remotely interested or impressed?

Images of the incredibly handsome stranger flitted through her mind as she slammed the door shut. It was him. The man on the jogging trail was Nick Coulter.

After getting Cade a snack, she went in the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She grabbed a soft towel and buried her face in it, wishing she could hide.

The sound of the doorbell made her rush out of the bathroom before Cade decided to answer it. Ellie opened the door and found Betsy standing on her porch. She waited for the tongue-lashing she probably deserved.

Hey, wait a minute. I’m the one who should be mad.
Betsy had tricked her into baking the bread for the quarterback.

“Do you mind telling me why you told that man I baked him the bread?” Her voice sounded high-pitched and abnormally irritated.

Betsy looked at her with wary eyes. “Well, technically you did.”

“Yeah, but not for him.”

“Ellie,” Betsy sighed. “What is going on?”

Ellie’s chin rose. She didn’t want to explain, mainly because she didn’t understand it herself. But what
was
going on? How could she have just treated someone she didn’t even know so rudely? She dropped her head and captured her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

Betsy guided her to the couch. “Why don’t you try?”

Ellie twisted her hands together and let out a big breath. “Thomas idolized Nick Coulter. You don’t know how many times I heard him complain how unfair life was just because the guy could throw a football.” One of her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Every time he saw the famous football icon with a beautiful woman hanging on his arm, he’d comment on how lucky he was.”

The excuse sounded lame. But how could she explain that whenever she saw Nick on the cover of some newspaper or magazine, it reminded her of Thomas’s aspirations to live like the famous bachelor appeared to be living?

“Ellie, you’re judging someone based on Thomas’s behavior.” Betsy gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Nick’s a good guy. Not at all like what the tabloids portray. I’m one of his biggest fans and I know the rumors are all garbage.”

Whether or not the rumors were true, Ellie had still been judgmental about someone because of Thomas. Was she really that screwed up? “Do you think I need counseling?” Her wry comment was supposed to lighten the mood.

Betsy didn’t laugh, but she did smile. “No, you just need to let go and forgive Thomas for what he did.”

It sounded so easy. But how do you forgive someone who continually caused you pain? “I know—I just don’t know how to do it.” Maybe she did need psychotherapy.

“Honey, try to remember that forgiving someone doesn’t mean you forget or condone what they’ve done. What Thomas did will always be a part of your life, but if you let go of the animosity toward him, you can focus on the more positive parts of your life.” Betsy didn’t say it, but Ellie knew she also meant moving on with her life—like finding another man to love.

“I’ll try to do better.”

“That’s my girl.” Betsy’s impish smile returned to her face. “I’ll stay here with Cade while you go over and apologize.”

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