Chapter 2
TWO
LUCAS
I sit on the bench in the locker room and kick off my cleats, sweat dripping down my back from an intense practice session.
My knee is killing me, but I don’t bother mentioning it.
The last thing I need is someone thinking I’m not qualified to play.
Because I am. I just get sore sometimes.
But people like to make a big deal out of nothing, so it’s usually best to keep it to myself if my knee hurts.
All I want is to get home, relax, and tinker with the remote-control car I’m building.
I’m putting in all the upgrades to make it faster.
“Great playing out there.” Coach nods to me. “You’re improving.”
Yeah. But not quickly enough. I grunt in response, and he moves on.
“How’s the knee?” Jace asks, slamming a locker door shut and turning to me.
“It’s fine,” I lie. “How about you? You holding up okay after having the flu?” I peel off my socks, which smell like a cat sprayed on them. I grimace. It’s time to hit the shower.
“Never better.” But he’s pale, and it’s clear he’s as big of a liar as I am. Must run in the family. “How did soccer practice go with the kids?” Jace asks.
“Just swimmingly,” I growl. Especially if you consider how much I was swimming in coffee.
And in the blue eyes of that gorgeous brunette with the blonde highlights that was awkwardly flirting with me.
But I don’t mention any of that to Jace.
He’d probably try to set me up with her or something.
I may or may not have noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring and didn’t have a man with her.
Not that I plan to do anything with that information.
I’m too messed up for a girlfriend. Even if she does look like relationship material.
Single moms tend to know how to be responsible adults.
It’s that whole “having a kid” thing. I don’t trust people enough to commit.
After showering and getting dressed, I pack up my gym bag with my Roanoke Forge uniform and sling it over my shoulder.
“You want to grab dinner over at Dixie’s Tavern, Lucas?” Jace asks, coming up to me as I’m walking from the locker room.
“I could go for a burger,” I bite out through the pain. Maybe I’ll work on the remote-control car tomorrow night.
We carpooled from Maple Creek since it’s a forty-five-minute drive to Roanoke.
Jace is the reason I moved to Maple Creek.
When he heard I was joining the Roanoke Forge soccer team, he insisted I needed to live near him in Maple Creek.
After living in Atlanta and playing for the Arsenal, it was a bit of a shock. Everything moved slower in Maple Creek.
As we walk through the parking lot, Jace says, “You’re limping.”
“No, I’m not. I’m fine.” I grind out the words. I’m so tired of people feeling sorry for me or trying to protect me.
“Are you still planning to go back to the Arsenal?”
“How is that even a question? Of course, I am.”
“Are you sure that’s feasible? It’s been a year since your injury, and you’re still struggling after practices.”
“I’ll address it in physical therapy this week. I’m getting better. It just takes time.” I hate that I have to defend myself like this, but otherwise, he goes on and on about how worried he is about me. He might as well be an old woman at this point.
By the time we get to the car, my leg is throbbing. It hasn’t been this bad before. I just need to do some stretches and exercises and ice it.
My phone rings. It’s my agent, Tommy Greer.
“Hey, kid. Your coach says you had a rough practice. I don’t want you in Roanoke too long, so we’ll have to step up our game.
There’s an organization called Play It Forward that pairs athletes with service opportunities.
This could be the edge we need to get the Arsenal’s attention or maybe another big team. ”
“What kind of service opportunities?”
“It looks to me like they’re looking for someone to mentor kids like a big brother/big sister kind of thing.”
“I don’t know about that.” The last thing I want is for some kid with daddy issues to give me attitude.
“You’re going to all your physical therapy appointments, right?”
“Of course.”
“And you’re still in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.
I cross my arms over my chest and glare out the window like it’s insulted me. “You don’t know that.”
“Look, kid, your coach wasn’t born yesterday. If the man says you’re in pain, I’m gonna believe him.”
“Whatever.”
“My point is you need this mentorship opportunity. You’re not exactly in a position to argue right now. See if you can’t get them to increase your physical therapy.”
“I’ll do the therapy.”
“And the mentorship?”
I clench my jaw. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Don’t take too long,” he warns. “You don’t want to be stuck in that nowhere place, do you?”
“You already know I don’t,” I growl out.
We end the call, and I turn to Jace. “I wasn’t in pain.”
“I didn’t say anything.” He puts both hands up, off the steering wheel, before replacing them.
“Then why do you have that smug, ‘I told you so’ look on your face?”
“I think you should do the mentorship.”
“Are you nuts?” I scowl at him. “I’m not exactly good with kids.”
“Sure you are. I heard you did great with the soccer practice,” Jace insists.
I bark out a bitter laugh. “I’m not sure I would have worded it that way.”
We take the Maple Creek exit and head toward Dixie’s Tavern. My mouth is watering already, thinking about their juicy hamburgers.
We pull into their parking lot and head inside. Garlic and onions cooked with beef permeate the air, and the bar is packed. “I’ve only been here once, but that was enough for me to understand why everyone loves this place so much.”
“See? I told you Maple Creek wasn’t all bad.”
I grunt in response.
Jace cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’re a man of many words tonight.”
I grunt again.
Jace laughs. “Come on, you cave man. Let’s see if we can find a couple spots at the bar. There are some beautiful women here tonight. You never know, I might do a little dancing.”
“Just get a little tipsy first so you can build up your courage,” I growl.
He puffs out his chest. “I don’t need booze to give me courage.”
I lead us to the last two empty barstools, and we climb up.
Dixie, an older woman with long graying hair, comes up to us with a couple of menus. “Good evening, fellas. What can I get you two?” She lays napkins in front of each of us. “You’re Lucas, right?”
I nod.
“You were in here last week getting a burger.”
“That was me.”
“You new in town?” Her voice is low with a soothing quality to it, like she’s part bartender, part therapist.
“Yes, ma’am. My brother convinced me to come out here.”
“Jace is a good one.” She winks at him, and we give her our order.
Right after she turns away to get our drinks, one of the dads from the team Jace coaches heads toward us.
Jace turns to him. “Hey, man.” He claps him on the back.
“You feeling better?” the guy asks.
Jace shrugs. “For the most part.”
“Lucas.” He turns to me. “Did you meet Ben when you substituted?”
I nod. “We didn’t get the chance to talk, but he was there.”
He reaches over and shakes my hand. “Nice to officially meet you.” Ben looks over at Jace.
“Lucas may not have gotten a chance to talk to me at the game, but he sure got acquainted with Nolan’s mom.
The woman’s quite the catch. Owns that boutique my wife loves with the homemade soaps.
” He tosses a playful punch into my arm.
My body gets hot from my head to my toes. I stare at the guy without speaking.
“What’s this about Lucas and Anabelle?” Jace asks as Dixie sets a bottle of Corona in front of him.
So that’s her name. It’s beautiful, just like her.
Jace eyes me curiously, a grin spreading over his face. “Wait a second, were you hitting on one of my kids’ moms?” He tosses the bottle back and takes a long pull.
“No,” I say, louder than I intend.
“It was more like she was hitting on him,” Ben informs Jace with a grin.
Jace brings his bottle back down and hoots and hollers right as my drink arrives, a tall glass of locally made craft beer, and I take a gulp. Maybe I’m the one who needs this booze tonight.
“Ben, you’ll have to tell us more than that,” Jace says with a laugh.
I take another big swallow.
“They were all over each other. She bumped into him, and coffee went everywhere.”
“We were not all over each other.” She might have been all over me, but I barely touched her.
Jace’s eyes are sparkling, and he takes a sip of his drink.
“Pretty sure you were.” Ben laughs. “That’s not all. She ripped her shirt off and used it like a towel to clean him up.”
Jace spits out his drink, and it sprays all over me. “What?”
“Gross, man!” I grab a napkin and wipe down my front. Why am I always the one getting disgusting substances all over me?
“Sorry,” he says to me. “Are you serious, Ben? She ripped her shirt off on the field?”
“She had a tank top on underneath. But still.”
That moment is seared into my memory, and no matter how hard I try to get it to leave, it won’t.
“He was obviously checking her out. There was some on-field chemistry going on, if you know what I mean.” He elbows Jace, who howls in laughter.
“Enough. I don’t know this woman. She means nothing to me.”
Jace’s eyes go wide, and I turn to see what he’s gaping at behind me.
Anabelle is standing right there in a formfitting black tank top, cutoff jean shorts, and cowboy boots, the typical wear for the Dixie’s Tavern ladies who line dance. Her highlighted brown hair is hanging in loose curls around her face, and she looks so good my mouth goes dry.
From the look on her face, it’s obvious she overheard the entire conversation. Our gazes connect, and her expression shifts from mortification to indifference. Then she forces a smile. The shift happens so quickly, I could have imagined it.
“Hi there, laundry soap guy. Good to see you again.”
“Laundry soap guy?” Ben questions. “What in the world is she talking about? Did you whip out some laundry soap to clean up the coffee mess or something?”
“Apparently, you’re not as famous as I thought, big boy.” Anabelle saunters closer to me, and I catch a whiff of her perfume. I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. This woman has “hot mom” down to a perfect science.
I shake off the haze. “Big boy?”
She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a mother. It just rolls off the tongue.”
I swallow. I refuse to be sucked in by this woman.
She’s oozing confidence and cheerfulness, and I can’t let a woman distract me from my goals.
I put my old, comfortable glower back on.
I’d almost forgotten about it in the shock of her appearance.
Why should I care what she thinks anyway?
I was right before. She means nothing to me.
She takes in my darkened expression, and her smile falters for a hair of a second before she turns it up a few notches. Her face is bright like sunlight, and I can hardly bear to watch.
“I’m off to do some line dancing. You gentlemen have yourselves a nice evening.” She turns on a booted heel and saunters over to a group of beautiful women.
I turn, and Jace is focusing on all those ladies.
“Is that a little dribble of drool I see coming from the corner of your mouth?” I grab a spare napkin and make like I’m going to wipe away his spit.
He swats my hand away. “Cut it out, man. You’re being weird.”
I smile.
“Wow, a smile from the grump. Look what Anabelle does to you.”
My smile disappears. I know for a fact she doesn’t do a thing to me. Well. Not that I’ll admit to him anyway.
“The fact that you’re trying to deflect the teasing onto me is proof of it.” He looks at me triumphantly, like he’s just proven some huge point.
“Okay, Dr. Phil.” The truth is, I can’t get this woman out of my mind. Especially seeing her dressed up for an evening out.