The Bridge to a Better Life (26 page)

They were dating again, and even though they’d been married, there was a newness to spending time with her. Some of her likes and dislikes had changed. She wasn’t eating as much ice cream, and she was over her reality TV craze. And she was quieter, sometimes so quiet he had to force himself to inhabit her silence with her. At those times, he knew she was floundering, not knowing what to say, not knowing where they were going. Often, he would simply hold her hand until the moment passed.

They didn’t go out in public together, sensing it would put too much pressure on their new bond. And he didn’t amp up the romance by bringing her flowers or other gifts—at least not yet.

Touchdown journeyed back and forth between their separate kingdoms. The bridge was the connection point between them, and more often than not, he and Natalie met in the middle. When he knew she was coming over, he would wait for her in the center of the bridge, listening to the burbling water of the creek underneath. If she’d invited him, he would find her tracing one of the infinity symbols carved onto the rail of the bridge, staring off into the sky, Touchdown at her side. She never mentioned the symbol they’d had engraved on their wedding bands, so he didn’t either.

They spoke less, but connected more. And Blake told himself he was satisfied. Sure, he wanted more, but the simple joy of being with her again was enough.

Or it was enough until they returned to their separate kingdoms.

She was sharing the details of her days with him, and he was keeping her abreast of the preparations for the camp. But that was it.

They didn’t talk about her family, and he made himself be all right with that. He went out for a beer with Andy, who’d done the big brother thing and checked with Natalie before asking him. The crowd had bothered him a bit. Some people had asked for autographs while others had given him the what-for over retiring. They’d finally retreated to a corner and talked about safe topics: the girl Andy had met at Hairy’s with him, Blake’s upcoming camp, and Danny, whose antics were always good for a laugh. The only thing Blake had told him about Natalie was that they were hanging out. He hadn’t used the word dating, even though that’s what they were doing.

When Cormack Daly contacted him on a hazy Wednesday, pushing way too hard for his answer about the high school coaching job, Blake took a deep breath, remembering what Sam had said about not reacting to life. He told Cormack that he wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment yet and suggested they find someone else. At first, Cormack turned on the charm even more.

This job would launch your new career as a coach,
the man had said.
Think of all the experience you could pick up. This is the type of position that could take you to the next level. I’m here to work with you every step of the way, Blake.

This was the kind of guy who’d try to insinuate himself into a position of power within the team. Blake had to bite his tongue to refrain from mentioning the offers he’d received from the next level. He’d simply told him he wasn’t interested once again. It had only made the man press harder.

When Cormack finally realized Blake was unmovable, he started sputtering like a prima donna rookie who’d just realized the NFL was a whole heck of a lot harder than college ball. Apparently, the high school’s other finalist—the one they’d put on hold for Blake—had taken another job. They didn’t have anyone else, the man moaned pitifully. The attempted guilt trip didn’t sway Blake. He simply wished the man luck and hung up.

Though he’d essentially just closed the door to a full-time job in Dare Valley, he didn’t feel panicked or worried. Sam was right. He had to go with his gut.

He wasn’t going to take a full-time position until he was sure his relationship with Natalie was on solid ground…and he wasn’t going to accept a coaching gig until he knew he liked coaching. Right now, he was happy with his preparations for camp and the consulting he was doing for Special Olympics. Once camp was over, he could reassess.

Ultimately, he needed to see if Natalie would allow him to venture further into the complicated labyrinth of her heart and the beautiful curves of her body down south. He knew he needed to be patient, though it was getting harder and harder to remind himself of that.

After another solid week of kissing marathons, the kind that left him hard and aching, he invited her over for dinner. It was time to introduce a little more romance to see how she reacted. Since she used to drape their backyard with special party lights—just for them—he ran an extension cord from his house and decorated the bridge with white lights to guide her way to him. If she smiled when she saw them, he’d know it was okay to give her the bouquet he’d bought for her—sunflowers, her favorite.

That night, pink, red, and orange fingers reached across the valley as he waited for her on the edge of the bridge, the better to see her reaction. The first star appeared in the sky, and he made a wish even though it made him feel a bit foolish.

Let her be mine again. All of her.

She emerged from the twilight like a goddess, her curly, brown hair bouncing down her back, her red sleeveless sundress skimming down to her ankles, which were wrapped in gold gladiator sandals. Touchdown, who’d been with her the past few days, reached him first, but for once, he didn’t bend to greet him. He zeroed in on her face to see what it would tell him.

Her smile wasn’t full as she approached, but the corners of her mouth were curved. “Looks like you had some extra time on your hands.”

Even though he wasn’t breathing, he made himself smile and gesture to the lights. “I thought you might like it.” He gulped.

“I do. It’s beautiful.”

Fresh mountain air filled his lungs, and this time, it was easier to smile and step forward to kiss her cheek. “Hi.”

Okay, her smile seemed fuller now. “Hi.”

He held out his hand, and she took it. As he laced their fingers together, he experienced the same euphoric burst he’d always felt after a touchdown.
She’s going to allow more romance.

They started walking down the bridge together. Her skin glowed in the white light, and he wanted so badly to take her in his arms and kiss her. But it was too early in the night for that.

“Come. We’ll see if I can impress you with my ribs.”

“You cooked ribs?” she asked.

He didn’t have to look at her to imagine the shocked expression on her face. “You love them, so I called Jordan’s girlfriend and asked her to help me.”

You love them, so I made them.

“We Facetimed, and Grace walked me through everything. Hopefully it will be okay.” God, he hoped it would be okay. Who knew cooking could be so terrifying?

“Huh. I’m impressed. I never thought about calling up a professional chef like that.”

“Probably because you cook like a professional chef. We mere mortals in the kitchen need help from experts like Grace.”

The wind rustled the trees, kicking up fallen leaves on the ground as they left the bridge and walked across his backyard.

“How is she? I was so glad Jordan brought me that recipe from her. I’ve been wanting it forever.”

Grace and Jordan had been close friends since childhood, but they’d only started dating after he moved to Atlanta, where she was a sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Buckhead. They were a good match, but Jordan had confided in him that Grace was finding his fame more and more difficult to deal with. Now he was worried about their future together, but that wasn’t something he wanted to mention to Natalie right now.

“She’s great. Working hard at the restaurant, but still loving it. You know Grace. No one is better named.”

“True. Is she planning on coming out here with Jordan for the camp?”

“I doubt it,” he replied. “I’m going to keep him busy. I’ve asked the guys to hang out with the kids in the evening. We have some fun things planned.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Sounds like a great time. I’m so happy you’re doing this, Blake.”

Because he couldn’t suppress the urge, he raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. “Me too.”

His backyard was surrounded with torches that spilled light around them as he led her to the patio table.

“What would you like to drink tonight? I have champagne.” Another one of her favorites.

She settled into the chair and pulled Touchdown onto her lap. “Why not?”

“Good. I’ll go get it.” Another cue. His head was buzzing as he went inside. The sunflowers were tucked away in the one place he didn’t think she’d venture into—his office. He brought them out, feeling his palms sweat. He’d already made at least three romantic gestures. Was this too much? Oh, screw it.

He popped the champagne and poured two glasses. Drinking champagne was rare for him, so she’d recognize the gesture. Tucking the flowers into the crook of his arm, he headed back to the patio. She was stroking Touchdown’s fur, and the dog was so contented he looked asleep. Blake hung back for a moment to watch her, and then he set the glasses down and gently arranged the flowers by the plate he’d set for her.

“Thought you might like a little sunshine,” he said. God, he was a total cornball. His cheeks flushed, and he hoped it was too dark for her to see.

She bit her lip, and his whole world stopped. He waited, fighting the urge to snatch them back. What the heck good would that do? He couldn’t very well run back into the house with them and pretend he’d never presented them to her.

Her fingers touched the petals. “These are lovely. Thank you, Blake.”

His stomach gurgled, and he pressed a hand to it, his cheeks turning even warmer.

“You must be hungry.”

No, he thought, I’m stressed out from trying to romance my ex-wife. “I’ll…ah…go get the appetizers.”

“Appetizers too?” she asked with some surprise in her tone.

“Nothing fancy. Just a simple antipasti tray Grace suggested. Any moron can buy cheese, crackers, and olives.”

She was still tracing the sunflowers. “Any moron, huh?”

Rather than answer, he whipped around and headed into the house. Grace had put up with his little freak-out earlier after he realized he’d bought the wrong cheese. She’d suggested blue, so he’d picked up one that
looked
blue to him, only to discover it was called Roquefort. Grace had just laughed and told him it was totally all right. Roquefort
was
a blue cheese.

When he brought out the tray—one he’d bought at the local cheese shop—she made a humming sound in her throat that drove him wild. Her love of food had always been its own aphrodisiac. Watching her enjoy her meal was like watching porn, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that.

“I can see Grace’s influence here,” she said as she dipped one of the walnuts into the slice of honeycomb he’d arranged next to the blue cheese. “You’re expanding your horizons.”

You expand my horizons.

“Lucky me,” he forced out instead and sat down across from her, feeling sweat gather under his armpits. Great. He’d need to change shirts before the evening was over at this rate.

Grabbing his glass of champagne, he raised it for a toast. “To the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said before he could stop himself.

She flinched, a simple ripple moving across her face. His gut burned in despair.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No…it’s…okay.”

They missed each other’s glasses and had to try again. They were totally out of sync now. He could feel their newfound ease drifting away like smoke in the wind.

“I wanted tonight to be special for you,” he decided to admit. “I might have overdone things. How about we start again? I can take these flowers inside, and if you want to take them home later, you can. And I’ll put on some music. How about Imagine Dragons?”

He’d caught her dancing to their music in the kitchen on their last
Outlander
date. He stood and reached for the flowers, but before he could pick them up, she put her hand over his.

“Don’t even think about touching my flowers.”

His heart drummed under his ribs as their eyes met. He dropped his hand and went inside. Once the music was on, the ease came back in stages. He told her his story about the blue cheese freak-out because he knew it would make her laugh. And it did. But she also studied him intently, and he knew it was because she could hear the things he
hadn’t
said.

A Super Bowl MVP had freaked out because he was worried about buying the wrong cheese for a date.

When he went to check on the ribs, she came up behind him at the grill. For a man who was known for being good with his hands, he was all thumbs with her beside him. Her perfume tickled his nose. Her body heat was fiercer than the red-hot coals. He dropped the tongs twice before she laid her hand over his and helped.

“Squeeze here,” she instructed.