While We Waited (Smuggler’s Hideaway #3)

Chapter 33

Realization – Can sometimes hit you harder than a defensive lineman

Hudson

“G ood. The women are gone. We can talk shop,” Seth says as soon as Naomi and Nova are out of hearing range.

My brow wrinkles. “Talk shop? You mean reminisce.”

“Nope. I mean talk shop.”

“There is no shop. My Achilles and ankle are fucked. I can’t play anymore.”

What I wouldn’t give for my words to be a lie. I had at least five more years of playing in the NFL until a defensive player plowed into me with an illegal tackle.

“I saw you running this morning.”

“I can run, but I don’t have the speed to be a wide receiver anymore.”

“You were running pretty fast to me.”

I snort. “Everyone appears to run fast to you, slowpoke.”

“I’m not a slowpoke.”

I cock my brow. “Did you or did you not win the slowest offensive tackle award two years in a row?”

“It’s not a real award.”

“I remember buying you a damn trophy.”

“Because you made up the award to piss me off.”

“I was trying to motivate your ass to go to the gym.”

“I went to every practice.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You did the bare minimum. Imagine what you could have done if you had pushed yourself harder with extra workouts.”

“Extra workouts didn’t help you much.”

I flinch.

“Fuck. I’m an asshole,” Seth says. “Forget I said anything.”

How can I forget how my career was ruined? How I had everything I ever wanted and it was stolen from me in one extremely painful moment.

Seth sighs. “I didn’t come here to give you a hard time.”

“Nonetheless, you’re doing a damn good job.”

“I came here to offer you a job.”

I shake my head. “I can’t play. The doctor said one more bad tackle and I’d never walk again.”

“Fuck, man. I don’t want to handicap you. I want to use your mind.”

I frown. “My mind?”

No one on the football field cares about my mind. They want me to catch the ball and run as fast as possible to outrun the defensive team.

“Coach wants you to be the offensive coordinator.”

“Jerry wants me?”

That’s difficult to believe. Jerry hasn’t contacted me once since I left the team after my injury. Not a call, not a card. Nothing.

“Okay, fine. I want you.”

“I’m not interviewing for the offensive coordinator position.”

I remember the last time Jerry hired an offensive coordinator. He made those candidates go through five rounds of interviews.

“You don’t have to interview.”

“Coach never let the offensive coordinator call offensive plays during the game anyway. He insisted on calling all the plays himself.”

“Coach has changed.”

“Really?” I cock my eyebrow. “You literally said he hasn’t changed a bit five minutes ago.”

He blows out a breath. “He’s still a hard ass, but he recognizes he can’t do it all anymore.”

“Which is why he’s here instead of you.”

“He thought you wouldn’t want to speak to him.”

“Why not?”

“He was kind of a dick to you when you got injured.”

Yeah, he was. He pushed me to come back to the team despite what the doctors said. He only let up after the team doctor told him he’d never sign off on my return to the field.

“Anyway.” Seth pulls a piece of paper out of his coat jacket and hands it to me. “This is the offer.”

“The offer?”

“I told you there’s no need for you to interview.”

“Jerry signed off on this?”

He nods to the paper I haven’t opened. “Yep. And, before you ask, so have the lawyers.”

My insides vibrate as excitement rushes through me. This isn’t some hare-brained scheme Seth thought up. This is an actual possibility.

I could be back on the field. I miss the smell of the grass, the sound of the gridiron, the roaring of the crowds.

I thought I’d never have it again. I thought I’d ruined the best thing in my life. I thought my time as an athlete was over.

But maybe it’s not.

“I’ll have Naomi introduce Nova to the other wives. Assuming you want her with you. If not, I’m certain we can figure out visitations. You wouldn’t be the first coach to be in this situation.”

I growl. ‘This situation?’ What the hell does he mean? Does he think I knocked Nova up and I’ll leave her and our baby behind?

I would never leave Nova or our baby behind. Wherever I go, she’s going.

Except Nova would never leave Smuggler’s Hideaway. This is her home. Her friends are here. Her business is her. She can’t up and move.

And I can’t leave Nova. I won’t.

I frown. Am I seriously giving up returning to football to stay with Nova? I love her and our baby, but football is my life.

Yet the idea of leaving her – leaving our baby – makes me sick to my stomach. Shit. I can’t leave the island. Not even for football.

If I can’t leave for the game, maybe football isn’t my life after all. Maybe there are other people in my life who are more important than the game.

As exciting as a job as offensive coordinator sounds, it’s not for me.

My heart clenches as realization hits me. I’m more than an athlete. I’m not a has-been. I’m a business owner. I’m a father-to-be.

And I’m a Smuggler. Smuggler’s Hideaway is home. This is where I belong. Not on the road several months a year with a football team.

Seth holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by my comment. I didn’t want to assume. After all, you haven’t put a ring on it yet.”

“I’m waiting.”

“For what? She’s already knocked up.”

“I don’t want her to think I’m proposing because of the baby.”

His brow wrinkles. “Aren’t you?”

“Hell no.”

He grins. “Awesome. Happy for you man.”

I pass the offer back to him. “I can’t accept this.”

“You haven’t even looked at it.”

“I don’t need to. My mind’s made up.” With Nova is where I belong. I choose her. I’m not ruining the best thing I’ve ever had.

“You could discuss it with Nova. Ask her what she thinks.”

I snort. If Nova thinks I want to accept the offer, she’ll push me to accept without any regard to her own situation. She’d do anything for me. She’s amazing. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to admit it to myself. I thought I might love her before but now, I’m sure. She’s it. She’s the one.

“Promise you’ll at least think about it.”

I fold the piece of paper and shove it into my back pocket.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.” I notice Nova making her way to our table. “Let’s discuss this later.”

When she arrives, I notice her face is pinched. “Are you okay? Are you feeling queasy? Do you want to leave and I’ll make you some of my chicken noodle soup?”

She smiles at me but it doesn’t light up her face. “I’m okay. I want to stay and get to know your friend better.”

I scan her face for any sign she’s in distress. “Fine. But if you start feeling nauseous, you have to let me know.”

She rolls her eyes. “I promise, Grumpalotoulos.”

“Still not Greek,” I mutter as I pull out her chair for her and help to situate her.

“Still a grump,” she sings back to me.

I chuckle as I sit next to her.

This is why I won’t accept the job. I don’t want to miss these moments. And I know how these moments can stack up.

When I returned to the island three years ago, my brothers weren’t snotty-nosed kids anymore. They were young men. I missed those years with them.

I’m not missing any moments with Nova. Or Sprog. I will be there for every milestone Sprog experiences. Side by side with the woman I love.