Scoring with the Coach’s Daughter (Maine Megalodons #3)

11. Jake

11

JAKE

A BBQ Bash! For a small town, the women in my life are keeping me busy! The sound of the town square buzzing with activity fills the air as I step out of the truck. The Cherry Point BBQ Bash is in full swing, and the smoky aroma of grilling meat mingling with the sweetness of fried dough smells wafting from the funnel cake stands and it makes me hungry for something sweet.

Kids dart between booths with faces painted with popular Spiderman characters, Disney characters, and even butterflies while parents stand in clusters, sipping sweet tea and catching up on local gossip. This town might be small, but it sure knows how to throw a shindig.

Bluegrass music fills the air along with townies. I walk along rows of tables with canned cherries, peaches, green beans, and pickles, just to name a few. My mouth waters when I see the strawberry jam. I do love strawberries.

I scan the horizon and walk to the open field where grills are smoking because I’m looking for Sam’s booth. The bold lettering of “Sam’s Table” stands out against the rustic backdrop of the barbecue grill she’s set up. She’s standing behind the table talking to her employees who stand next to Maggie. Sam is overseeing the ribs on the grill. I’m not surprised. She’s a perfectionist and God forbid she hands over the reins to her staff.

Her dark hair is pulled into a loose bun, and her apron is smudged with BBQ sauce as she assembles plates with her usual precision. Even when she’s working, she has this air about her—like she’s completely in control of the world around her. It’s infuriatingly attractive.

I really need to get her to break the habit she has of working all the time. I thought I was a workaholic until I met her. But, like all players, over time, we find balance. I doubt Sam will relinquish control unless she has to, and that’s not the way to go about it. However, she needs to learn moderation and I hope she finds it before she exhausts herself.

I want her to relax more and appreciate the moments every day instead of in the few hours of the day when she’s unwinding. I want us to have the home life we both deserve. During the football season, my life is fast forward due to the fast-paced season. Sam’s career is as demanding as mine and that will leave little time for us and the family I desire. I hope Sam and I are capable of making compromises and sacrifices for each other.

“Looks like you’re missing the fun, Sam,” I call out as I approach. I stop to lean against the counter with an easy grin gracing my face. She works too much, and I’m about to change that.

She doesn’t even glance up when she hears my voice. “I’ll have fun when the rush is over, Jake.” I wish she would cut loose and have some fun. The smiles of our family beach day are in her rearview mirror and she’s back to business.

Her tone is sharp, but there’s a spark in her eyes when she finally looks at me like she’s daring me to keep pushing because she knows I love a challenge.

“Come on, what’s the point of a festival if you’re not enjoying it?” I ask, gesturing to the crowd behind me. “You’re going to be the only person here who doesn’t try the dunk tank.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “If you think I’m climbing into a dunk tank in front of half the town, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Well, then,” I say, tapping the counter, “I guess it’s up to me to bring the fun to you.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “What does that mean?”

Before she can protest, I duck behind the counter, grabbing an apron from the hook and tying it around my waist. “You’re about to see what I’ve got, Sam.”

“Jake, this is not—” She starts, but I’ve already moved to the grill, and I nudge her aside, grabbing a pair of tongs from her and stepping in to flip the burgers with practiced ease.

“I’ve worked fairs, and concession stands to fundraise for my high school football team, This is in my wheelhouse,” I smirk.

The truth is, I’ve spent way more time in a locker room than the kitchen, but I’ve always been decent with a grill. Watching her try to figure out whether to stop me or let me help is worth every risk of ruining her flow. She stands with her hands on her hips and if she thinks she can intimidate me into giving her back the spatula, she’s sorely mistaken.

“You’re going to scare off my customers,” she complains.

“No chance,” I say, flashing her a grin. “If anything, they’re lining up to see me in action.”

The look on her face is priceless when she turns around she sees the high school football team in jerseys standing in the line along with their father’s .

She scoffs when she can’t deny the obvious. But when Mrs. Holloway comes strolling by and gives me a sly smile, Sam’s face falls.

“Jake! Fancy seeing you here. Cooking, no less,” she says, her Southern drawl—warm and teasing. Her eyes sweep me up and down before they land on Sam. “He’s a keeper, isn’t he?”

Sam’s cheeks flush, and I can’t resist shooting her a smug look. “I aim to please,” I say to Miss Holloway plating up ribs and handing it to her. She gives Sam a wink as she hands her a string of tickets to pay for her food and says, “Well, don’t let this one get away, dear.” She then saunters off humming cheerfully to herself.

Sam glares at me, but there’s a hint of amusement behind it. “You’re impossible. And Mrs. Holloway is biased,” she huffs.

“And you love it,” I counter, pulling a burger off the grill, plating it, and adding the crisp bacon to it. I move to the toppings and pile sautéed onions on it before adding a slice of sharp cheddar cheese. When I hand her the plate, she raises an eyebrow.

“What’s this?” she asks eyeing the plate I hand to her.

“Your lunch,” I say, folding my arms. “You can’t survive on coffee and stubbornness, Sam.”

She hesitates, weighing her options. It’s a tricky decision because admitting I’m right would be giving me too much credit. She rolls her eyes as she picks up the plate and her hunger wins out as she takes a bite. Her eyes widen and she looks genuinely surprised.

“Not bad,” she says reluctantly.

“Not bad?” I echo, pretending to be offended. “That’s the best burger you’ve ever had, and you know it.”

She doesn’t argue, which I take as a win. I watch as the crowd outside the tent mills about. It feels easy, standing here with her, and the feeling that I have is that I’ m exactly where I’m supposed to be. She’s the woman I want to come to at the end of a road trip. She’s the woman I want to bear my kids.

She’s mine—mine to protect, and mine to love.

She just hasn’t conceded to me—yet.

Sam finishes the burger and wipes the BBQ sauce off her chin with the back of her hand.

I suppress my smirk but I’m enjoying the view.

“Maggie, you’re in charge,” I say. Maggie looks at me, then Sam, and then back to me. Sam nods, and Maggie takes the spatula from me. “Thank you, we have plans.”

Ellie, who was standing next to Maggie, grins and joins us.

I whisk them off to play carny games and funnel cakes.

Later in the afternoon, the games begin. The high school’s field is lined with contestants and the familiar energy of a game day hangs in the air. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a field, and even though my injury still nags at me, I can’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. I miss home and I’m missing spring training with my team.

I have no intention of participating but Sam nudges me.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” Sam teases.

“Guilty,” I admit. “But hey, I’m here for the kids.”

She glances at me, her expression skeptical. “You’re here because Ellie guilted you into playing.”

“Maybe,” I say, grinning. “But I’m not complaining. You’re here too.”

She rolls her eyes, and a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

When the game starts, the sun is beaming on us and the kids are in full force as they race across the open field for a game of tag football. Ellie is in the thick of it, her ponytail bouncing as she runs for the ball, her yellow flag sticking off her hip. I jog along the sidelines, letting her get the pass as I call out, “You’ve got this! ”

She grins, her cheeks flushed with effort as she throws the ball toward the makeshift goal. It’s a mess of arms and legs, but somehow, the kids manage to score. Ellie throws her arms in the air, cheering loudly when the ball goes into the net.

“Nice shot!” I say, holding up my hand for a high-five.

She smacks my hand with enthusiasm as she turns toward where the parents are lined up near the bleachers. “Did you see that, Aunt Sam?” she yells across the field.

Sam claps her hands from the sidelines. “I saw it! Great job!”

For a brief second, I get a taste of what it would be like if Sam sat on the sidelines of my football game cheering me on. The vision warms my heart.

The game ends in a tie, which means the kids and adults are forced into a tiebreaker competition. It’s a relay race involving water balloons and some questionable obstacle courses, and Sam and I end up paired together.

“This is your fault,” she mutters as we line up for our turn.

“How is this my fault?” I ask, feigning innocence.

“You’re the one who signed up,” she says, adjusting her grip on the spoon loaded with a water balloon. “Now, try not to drop it.”

“Same to you,” I shoot back, but there’s no heat behind it. If anything, it feels good to banter with her, to have these little moments that feel like something more.

We don’t win the race—Ellie’s team does, of course—but by the end of it, we’re both laughing, soaked, and out of breath. Sam shakes her head, and the water has soaked through her T-shirt. She looks at me like I blew it.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says, but there’s warmth in her tone.

“Maybe,” I admit, “but you’re smiling, so I must be doing something right.”

She can’t hide the look in her eyes that tells me I’m making points.

As the sun dips it turns various shades of orange and pink against the Easter egg blue sky. The festival winds down. Ellie tugs on my hand, her eyes wide as she points to the ring toss booth.

“Jake, look! I want the cute lion! Can we try to win it?”

The stuffed lion is perched on the top shelf, bright and fluffy. Ellie’s excitement is impossible to resist, so I purchase tickets and hand a couple to the booth operator. He sets rings on the counter.

“I can’t promise we’ll be able to get it,” I tell her, aiming for the pegs.

It takes a few tries—and a little coaching from Ellie—but I finally land the ring on the right peg. The operator hands me the lion, and I bend to give it to Ellie.

“Here you go, champ,” I say, ruffling her hair.

She hugs it tightly, her face lighting up with joy. “I’m naming him Simba!”

“Good choice,” I say, standing. Sam watches from a few feet away, her arms crossed but her expression soft.

“She’ll be sleeping with that thing for weeks,” she chuckles.

“It’s worth every penny,” I reply.

As we walk back toward the truck, Ellie skips ahead, clutching her new toy. Sam falls into step beside me, and the glow of the festival lights fades by the time we reach the truck.

“Thanks for today. Ellie had a blast.”

“So did I,” I admit, my gaze lingering on her. “Did you?”

“Of course, but you’re not always going to be here to save the day for her,” she states. She’s such a killjoy. She needs to lighten up. Does she forget I’m a grown man who is incredibly successful? I’m not playing games. She mentioned Rob to me but hell, she needs to let it go and stop punishing me for his sins.

“I know. But I want the time I have with her to count. This isn’t a one-off, Sam. This isn't a fling to me.”

“We’ll see,” she murmurs under her breath before she joins Ellie in the truck.

The smile on my face melts like ice cream on the equator. I’m disappointed in her comment. What the hell does “we’ll see” even mean? Does she think I’m faking my affection for her and Ellie?

What do I have to do to prove myself? Will she ever let me in? We have a great time, incredible sex and then I find myself back in the hamster wheel. It’s one step forward and two steps back. Her moods are as volatile as the stock market.

Am I heading for a crash?

I’m still reeling over her comment, and it was an abnormally quiet drive to her house. One, Ellie is exhausted and not chatting away like usual and two, I’m miffed. After we walk into the house, I hug Ellie good night. I decide it is time to give Sam space to think about us.

I kiss her on the cheek, and it's hell breaking away from her. But dammit, she has to wake up. Her eyes give me a look of longing and I’d love to stay but I murmur good night and walk to my room at the Dragonfly Inn. It’s been days since I checked in with my friends and it’s time for me to call Travis. The team is in Arizona for training camp. I need to hear what’s going on and I miss everyone. For the first time since I’ve arrived in Cherry Point, I feel alone.

When I reach the door, I turn to blow Sam a kiss and her face drops like a rock. I’m sure she’ll figure it out—won’t she?

Once I settle in my room, I find it’s too quiet. I put the TV on for background noise, hoping it would fill the silence that blends in with idle time, reminding me of lonely nights on the road. I dial my phone and our quarterback picks up.

“Yo, Travis! How’s the desert treating you guys? I hear it’s hotter than an oven out there.”

“Jake! Man, you have no idea. I think my cleats melted a little yesterday. How’s South Carolina? You holding up all right?”

“Yeah, I’m hanging in there. Rehab’s going well, but it’s killing me not being out there with you guys. So, give me the lowdown—what’s camp like this year?”

“Same grind, different year. Early mornings, full days of drills, and Coach Davis barking louder than ever. But the energy’s good. Everyone’s fired up after how last season ended.”

“No kidding. What’s Coach got you working on this week?”

“We’re heavy on fundamentals right now. He’s all about cleaning up the little things before we ramp up. You know how he is—precision over flash. So, lots of footwork drills for the O-line, timing routes for us, and tackling angles for the defense.”

“Sounds like Coach. How’s the chemistry shaping up? Any of the new guys standing out?”

“A few, yeah. But honestly, it’s not the same without you here. Your energy’s missed, man. We’ve got guys stepping up, though. That rookie tight end, McAllister? Dude’s a beast in the red zone.”

“McAllister, huh? I’ll make sure to give him a run for his money when I’m back. How about you? Getting in sync with the receivers?”

“Yeah, but it’s a work in progress. Timing’s everything in this heat. Guys are giving it their all, though. What about you? You staying sharp over there?”

“I’m trying. I’ve been running routes with my little brother when I can. He’s no Travis, though—kid can’t throw a spiral to save his life.”

“Hey, a receiver who can adapt to bad passes? That’s a skill in itself! Keep at it, man. Rehab first, though. We need you 100% when you’re back.” Travis chuckles.

“ I hear you. Any advice for staying in the mix while I’m stuck here?”

“ Yeah, stay on top of the playbook. Even if you’re not on the field, you can prepare mentally. Watch the films, take notes, and keep texting us. We’ll fill you in on anything new Coach throws at us.”

I shift on the armchair in my room. “Good call. I’m already breaking down film—gotta stay sharp. Do you think Coach Davis remembers that I exist?”

“ Oh, he remembers. He was asking about you the other day. Said something like, ‘Tell Jake he better come back ready to work.’ You’re on his radar, man.”

“ Good to know. Thanks, Travis. This helps a lot—makes me feel like I’m still part of the team.”

“ You are, Jake. We’re all looking forward to having you back. What have you been up to? You’ve been too quiet. Anything to share?"

“I might be seeing someone.”

“Do tell. I saw you chatting up Samantha at the party. Come to think of it, she’s in South Carolina. Is that a coincidence?”

“I’m not sure but, yeah, my doctor is a few towns from where she has the Dragonfly Inn.”

“Dragonfly Inn? Don’t tell me you’re banging the coach’s daughter!”

“That’s rude. She’s sweet and smart. And she’s raising Ellen’s daughter.”

“So it’s like that is it? How is it going? Is it serious?”

“I’ll let you know when I know,” I reply to keep it vague. I’m not sure if my coach sent me here knowing I’d look Sam up—or not. It’s a gray area however we’ve always gotten along well. Keep killing it out there, all right?” I say deflecting the talk off of my current situation. “And send me a video of my temporary replacement in action—I need to see what I’m up against.”

“For sure, later, man. Later.”

My room is too quiet. The eerie void hangs over me. I’m not ready to return to how my life was before Sam and Ellie. By ten o’clock, I’m surfing the sports channels looking for player updates. I miss being with the team but when I leave, I know I’ll miss the stubborn woman who owns this inn even more.