Risky Replay (Country Stars Forever #1)

Chapter 8

Eight

EMILY

He’s over an hour late. The kids on the team whine about how hungry they are and how they can’t eat burgers without buns. The mothers scowl as they console their starving children. The fathers, eager to start grilling, glare at me like I’m the destroyer of all their fun.

A text from Derek comes in:

Just parked, got caught up at the restaurant.

When I look up, he’s walking toward the food table carrying a box in his strong arms. The Padres cap and aviators don’t hide how handsome he is.

He brings enough buns from one of San Diego’s most popular bakeries to feed every soldier at Fort Meade. It’s like he’s aiming to be bun dad of the year, and by the way several mothers track him, even if they’re not country music fans, he’s made a memorable impression. And he’s instantly forgiven. One mother waves him over to the food table and busies herself shoving plates aside for Derek’s buns. As he lowers the box, and his muscles flex, she places a hand on his forearm and laughs at something he says.

He’s not a comedian .

After dropping his bun load, he walks to the grill, shaking all the fathers’ hands, and they laugh at whatever he says. They’ve forgiven him, too?

After a few more shared jokes – maybe he is a comedian – Derek points at the tables where the rest of the families gather. As he walks, a mother blocks his path and offers him her hand, which he politely shakes. As they chat, she twirls a finger in her hair. I’m too far to hear the exchange. He’s tall enough to look over her head and scan the picnic tables filled with families chatting, and the grassy area where kids are playing catch or chasing each other, burning off excess energy.

Derek’s head stops moving, and even though his sunglasses cover his eyes, they find us. A beat later, his body stills.

A few feet from me, James sits with his friend Addy under a shade tree while they pull toy horses out of her panda bear backpack. Addy is James’ only friend on the team. The one who talks to him consistently. James’ hands wave all over as he talks and Addy giggles. He’s wearing his unicorn tee shirt over his sweatpants and his hair is in two colorful French braids.

“ Me hubieros puesto atencion y vestir mejor a tu hijo, ” my grandmother whispers next to me.

We argued this morning about what James would wear to meet Derek. I wouldn’t compromise while she pushed for an attire suited for a strapping young boy. She wraps her hands around my bare shoulders from the side, giving me a gentle nudge. “ Anda, saludalo, que los buitres tienen hambre. ”

“Nana, vultures? Really?”

She’s not wrong. The women circle with hunger in their eyes. I won’t march over there to pounce and claim him.

“I’m not interested,” I whisper the reminder to her. “Him or anyone else. My focus is?—”

“ Ya sé .” She lets me go, waving a dismissive hand. “You only have time to be a mom. Qué aburrido ! You’ll be what? Forty-seven when Victoria leaves for college. What are you going to do then? Find yourself a viejo ? His thing isn’t even going to work. If it’s not him, then please, mija , don’t let too much time go by. Because it will.”

She grabs Victoria’s hand and motions for my grandpa to follow them to the play set.

When I first moved back, my nana respectfully kept her thoughts to herself about my dating life. Lately, she’s been hinting at me going out. My focus is on my kids and moving to Maryland.

It’s where I’ve tracked the kids’ growth on a door frame.

It’s where Victoria first walked.

It’s where we set down roots, and that will be the home the kids can count on me being there for them no matter how old they are.

Dating is not part of my plan. Not here. Not there. Not even for the six-foot-plus man staring at us with way too much determination in his jaw.

“Who is that?” Addy’s mother, Benjamina, a very married woman, says way too loudly from another table. Maybe Nana is right, vultures. She looks up at me, and her smile disappears.

A few times, Benjamina has openly expressed her disapproval of James’ hair, his nails, or his lack of a father figure. Lucky for James, Addy doesn’t subscribe to such opinions. Addy looks for James at every practice.

“Probably Carter’s father,” she says, referring to the most obnoxious overly masculine boy on the team. The kid I make sure James stays away from because Carter has made fun of my son’s hair and his soft demeanor.

Nothing would make me happier than to tell her she’s wrong, but I don’t have to. Derek strides in our direction, making it clear who he’s here for.

“Friend of yours?” Benjamina glances back at Addy and James. “What does he think of the hair?”

“Hey,” Derek says when he reaches me.

“Hi,” I breathe out. He’s got more than half a foot on me, yet it feels like he’s towering over me. He smells clean like pine trees in the summer and cedar with a faint hint of citrus .

Benjamina says something, but I’m caught up in Derek’s solid, masculine presence, and I understand why he’s so easily forgiven.

I step closer to him and flick my eyes to Benjamina. “She was wondering what you think of James’ hair.”

Derek’s entire face lights up as his eyes land on James. “I better brush up on my braiding.”

Oh my god. I love him.

What? No. I mean like oh, I love him for saying that like someone loves someone who brings them coffee when you need it or chocolate when you’re craving it. Not the other kind of love.

A joyous shriek pierces the air, and Addy and James barrel toward us, and weave between us. Addy holds something in her hand as she chases James.

“Adeline Mae,” Addy’s mother runs after the pair. “Put it down.”

Derek’s amused expression follows the kids and the irate adult.

“He hates getting dirty.” I wait for a change in Derek’s demeanor as he takes in James’ appearance, but it doesn’t happen. “Hates bugs, I think that was a worm she was chasing him with.”

“I hate bugs, too.” Derek returns his prideful gaze to me. He closes the space between us. “Still can’t believe we made him.”

A balloon inflates in my chest and pressure builds in my throat. I shut my eyes, blocking him out, and force down the swell of emotion. I inhale and remind myself there is nothing more important than keeping my guard up and my eyes open.

“You okay?” Derek sounds closer than I expect.

“Eww gross,” James’ voice slices through the moment.

My eyes burst open, and yes, Derek stands closer than before. We step back until we’re beyond each other’s reach. My self-control is shot with one look at the buffed out, tattooed, and bun-carrying Derek Anderson.

It’s Addy who James talks to, not us .

Addy’s mother returns, her hair a billow of frizz and her lips a straight line as she shuffles Addy to a table farther away.

“Mom, can Addy come over and play?” James’ hopeful eyes meet mine and quickly dart away to the harried mother.

Benjamina’s answer will be no.

I look to Derek. His eyes are full of questions for a split second until they shift into the familiar intense focus he gets before a show. Like the moment before we walk onto a stage, together.

Together . I whoosh out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. We both walk up to Addy’s mother, “Is there’s any chance?—”

“There’s not.” Benjamina cuts me off as she hooks her daughter’s backpack into one arm.

Derek huffs as we both watch her stomp away. Addy jumps and waves at James. James waves back wearing a wide smile, bug incident forgiven.

“James, I tried,” I say.

I glance over at Derek, who rubs the back of his neck. “They didn’t even try the buns.”

I hold in the laughter as I hold James’ hand and lead us to the picnic bench with our stuff. I sit next to James, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Honey, this is my friend Derek. He and I grew up together and I invited him, so um—” Crap, so what? So he can meet his son. “I invited him, because, well, he’s a very special friend of mine.”

James looks up at Derek, his little brows coming together like his father’s do as he fixates on Derek’s sunglasses. “Hi. Are you a cop?”

Derek sends me an amused grin. He squats down, studying James like he’s inventorying every part of his son. “No, but my dad is a deputy sheriff.”

“Are you a baseball player?” James’ body vibrates with excitement at playing a game.

Derek sits on the bench. “No. And now you’re left with eighteen more questions. ”

“Are you a soldier like my dad?”

Oh no . I brave a glance at Derek’s face, and he gives nothing away. “No.”

“Mommyyyyy,” Victoria wails as she sprints towards me, arms flailing, along with her curls, and a guilty smile on her face. I hold out my hands and stop her before she plows into me.

I steel myself ready for the unpredictable chaos of my three-year-old. When she’s good, she’s great. When she’s in a mood…everyone save themselves.

“Are you okay? Did you fall?” I ask, inspecting her arms, legs, and her dress for dirt. I should have insisted she wear pants today, but the universe decided to teach me a lesson and give me a daughter more stubborn than me. I look around for my grandparents. “Where are your abuelitos ?”

Did they abandon her? Is that why she’s looking for me?

I spot them talking to the coach at the other end of the field, oblivious to my daughter running out of their sight.

“Hi,” Victoria says in her sweet, attention-seeking voice.

She’s set her eyes on Derek. Great, he’s drawn my little girl in, too.

“This is my sister, Victoria,” James announces.

Derek stands and rubs his hands on his jeans and straightens like he’s about to shake the hand of the President. Then he catches on and squats in front of my not yet three-foot-tall daughter.

“Hi, I’m Derek.” He extends his hand, and Victoria giggles, but like a polite mini human, she slaps his palm.

The difference in size is about the cutest thing I’ve seen in ages. I pinch my lips to hold back the smile.

“Tell Derek how old you are,” I prompt.

She holds up her fingers and announces. “Thwee.” She’s still struggling with those R’s. Something my grandmother is determined to fix before we leave. Mi bisnieta will be able to roll her R’s better than you, mija.

Speaking of, there she comes with my grandpa, strolling over like my daughter traversing the field by herself was planned.

“Wow. You look like your mother,” Derek says to Victoria.

“I’m not old!” Victoria shrieks.

Ouch.

Derek and I exchange a look of mutually restrained laughter.

“Derek!” Nana says with her accent coming through, and her wrinkled hands in the air ready to engulf him in a hug. “ Mijo, tanto tiempo .”

Derek stands as she reaches him and wraps her arms around him, squeezing his arms to his sides so he’s unable to return the hug.

My grandfather shoves his hands in his pockets and greets him with a nod and a “ Cómo has estado ?”

My grandmother slaps my grandpa’s shoulder. “How has he been? Don’t you know he’s famous?” She says it loud enough to attract the attention of the other families. No one seems to recognize him, and no one takes out a phone.

“What happened?” I ask, picking up my daughter, and shifting the attention from the clandestine famous star among us. “She’s been here a while. You were supposed to be watching her.”

Nana’s lips purse. “We were right there. We could see her.”

Papa steps forward. “There was an accident.”

“An accident?” I run my free hand over Victoria smoothing her hair and her dress making sure she’s okay. She doesn’t like the attention and presses her palms on my chest to push away from me. When it doesn’t work, she wiggles until I set her on her feet. I hold on to her hand which she tries to free.

“She’s fine.” Nana’s hands land on her hips. “If it was serious, we’d be at the hospital. You and your brother survived. We know how to watch kids.”

“Things have changed. The world is more dangerous,” I remind them.

“No big deal.” Nana looks at Victoria, then me. “We didn’t make it to the bathroom on time. ”

Victoria hasn't had issues recently, and I’d hoped she was past accidents.

My grandmother leans forward. “Had to wash her chonies and dry them. It’s why we took so long.”

I look at Victoria. “Remember to let us know when you have to go potty.”

“I’m not wearing underwear,” Victoria announces and lifts her dress to flash everyone in the vicinity.

I scramble and shove her dress down. Derek’s laughter booms near me. He puts his hand on his stomach and bends forward as he’s letting the joy roll through him.

Victoria giggles. James steps closer to Derek like he approves of his new friend’s reaction. The pressure in my cheeks is too much, and I huff out a laugh.

When our moment dies down, Nana says, “We can take her home. Get her properly dressed.”

I nod. And turn to Derek. “I’ll walk them to the car.”

Will Derek and James be okay by themselves? My heart rate speeds up.

I look at James who’s staring in awe at Derek. “You’re famous?”

Derek’s proud smile returns.

“James, you’ll be okay staying with Derek while I say bye to nana and papa?” I don’t know who I’m asking more, him, Derek, or me, but I keep my eyes on James.

My son nods, sits on the bench, and asks Derek another question, his feet swinging in the air.

Their voices fade as I try to catch my breath while Victoria relays her story about how she wet herself. Before my grandfather drives away with them, I remind them not to leave my daughter alone until I return. Yet another reason to return to Maryland. My grandparents should have been enjoying a house free of kids decades ago. But they ended up raising my little brother and me because my father couldn’t keep his promises. And now, here I am, asking them to watch my kids. At least I’ll always come back for my children.

As I walk back to the picnic tables, I slow my steps, taking in James and Derek’s interactions. They sit engrossed in a conversation. James laughs, and my chest fills with warmth.

Like a crazed fan, I snap a few pictures of Derek and James sitting next to each other, their backs to the table, and hands gripping the edge of the bench. James’ legs swing out as Derek watches James like he’s a gold-plated gramophone statuette. I zoom in on the picture. James’ smile captivates me. I don’t know how long Derek will stick around, but I sure hope he doesn’t break James’ heart.