7. Ian
7
IAN
“How about you give me a few weeks of volunteering?” Sadie asks like it’s no big deal either way. Could she truly be willing to let Riva off that easy after the terror I saw written all over her pretty face earlier.
“What kind of volunteering?” It’s funny my kid thinks she has any choice in the matter. Whatever Sadie wants, she’ll do it.
“Well, scooping poop for one. It’s summer, so a lot of my clients go on vacation. That means I have more dogs boarding, especially on weekends. I could use help walking, training, and generally keeping them entertained.” She scrunches up her nose and sighs. “That’s assuming Penelope keeps her word and doesn’t spread it around town that I lost her dog.”
“She can’t say that,” Riva counters. “You didn’t lose the dog. I took her, and I really am sorry. Promise.”
My daughter’s voice trembles, but she doesn’t try to hide it. This apology is real and so different from the one so patronizingly offered on the front porch. Sally meets my gaze behind Riva’s back, winks, and then gives me a quick thumbs-up.
How is it that Sadie Hart has managed to reveal Riva’s soft underbelly without yelling or lecturing? Instead, she’s offered my kid a chance to do exactly what will make her happiest in the world while also potentially learning how much work dogs can be.
My daughter looks like an animal about to flip on her back to be loved up just the right way. Sadie has managed to connect with her at a soul-deep level while I’m completely clueless, and I’m not convinced Monika is any more insightful than me.
Why didn’t I think about volunteering with animals to bond with my kid? Because I have no idea what I’m doing. Now I owe my dog-lady neighbor even more than she realizes.
Whether or not Sadie understands the impact she’s making, her friends do. Trina scoops up the dust-mop dog lounging beside her and offers it to my child. “This is Tempest. She arrived this afternoon and happens to like doing her business with an audience. Would you take her out in the backyard?”
You would have thought the woman offered Riva front-row tickets to a Taylor Swift concert. Her eyes light up with a brightness I’ve never witnessed.
“Yeah, of course. I love watching dogs go potty.”
I watch in disbelief as Riva practically skips out of the room toward the back of the house with Tempest in her arms and Max automatically trailing behind. I rub a hand along the back of my neck as I stare after her, feeling the gazes of the three women on me.
“Thank you, Sadie. You’ve been way kinder than my kid deserves, and if there’s anything I can do?—”
“There is.” Sally points toward me with what can only be described as a diabolical smile at the same time Sadie shakes her head.
Sally ignores her. “In fact, Playmaker, I think you might be the perfect person to help with a situation we were just discussing.”
Her wife’s pale green eyes go wide as she offers a vigorous nod, which isn’t any more comforting than the finger-pointing.
“Oh, no.” Sadie steps in front of me as fast as any lineman I’ve ever played with. “I do not need Ian’s help with what we discussed, so…”
The scent of the citrusy perfume—or maybe it’s lotion—she’s wearing hits me as she shakes her head. The ends of her long dark blonde locks are damp and I’m momentarily lost in a vision of Sadie Hart in the shower.
The visceral physical reaction I have to this woman makes no sense, but is absolutely undeniable.
Right now, a beguiling, wholesome, and sexy-as-hell dog lady is voluntarily trying to protect me from something, and I’ll do any favor she wants if it means more time with her.
Which is a mistake because I don’t do wholesome.
Yes, I decorated my home thanks to a farmhouse-decor-inspired shopping binge, determined to make a life in a place that could be the setting for every cheesy Christmas movie ever filmed. But at my core, I’m not the person I want to convince my daughter I am. I’m not a guy who dates nice women who might have expectations of me beyond the bedroom.
Sadie hasn’t given me any indication she’s interested in me that way, but either way, she’s not my type. Despite what my body is intent on convincing the modicum of good sense I possess.
“What’s the favor?” I step closer to Sadie. I want her to feel the heat of my body, which runs at the temperature of an overworked furnace. The little hairs on the back of her arm stand on end, and it makes me weirdly happy.
She might not be a football fan, but at least she’s not immune to me. I don’t know why that matters, yet it sets my mind at ease.
“On second thought, it doesn’t matter the favor. I’ll do it.”
Sadie spins on her heel and stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. She’s not even aware of her power, which makes it even more formidable.
Thanks to the scooped collar of her tank top, I witness the flush that starts on her chest and travels all the way up the smooth skin of her neck to her cheeks. I wonder if the favor might involve making that flush cover her entire body.
Hell, yes, my dick twitches.
Nope, my brain commands. Dangerous territory.
“I don’t want a favor from you.” Sadie shakes her head. “Riva helping with the dogs is more than enough.”
“She needs a date for her sister’s wedding Fourth of July weekend,” Sally explains.
Sadie’s eyes briefly drift closed, like she’s in physical pain, before she turns to face her friends again.
“Why don’t you have a date?” I ask quietly.
“It’s complicated,” she says over her shoulder, “but I’m handling it.”
“Now Ian Barlowe can handle it,” Sally insists, “and you’ll have way more fun in the process.”
Sadie shakes her hands like they’re filled with pins and needles or she’s nervous as hell. “You don’t know him. How do you know he’s fun?”
“I’m fun,” I say to no one in particular, unsure why I feel the need to convince Sadie or involve myself in something she’s admitted is complicated.
Complicated and me don’t mix. At all.
Trina holds up both hands, one in Sadie’s direction and one in front of Sally’s face, when the two women look like they’re about to start arguing again. “Sadie’s little sister is marrying the man who was Sadie’s secret crush when she and Sally were in high school. A crush that unfortunately intensified in college. But nothing ever happened between the two of them.”
“Not true. They kissed.” Sally looks like she wants to launch off the sofa to make her point.
“Who kissed who?” Riva asks as she returns to the room, cradling Tempest like a baby.
“We are not having this conversation.” Sadie looks horrified, which makes me want to smile. Everything about her makes me want to smile.
“I’m not a baby.” Riva plants her own kiss on the dog’s fuzzy forehead. “I know grown-ups kiss. It gives me the ick, but still…”
I’m not sure what the ick is, but I’m pretty sure I have it at the thought of Sadie’s sister marrying the guy she might still be hung up on.
“Well, Bradley Carlson will definitely give you the ick,” Sally says. “I wish Piper would wise up, but there’s something about that dou—” She clears her throat. “About that doofus the Hart sisters find appealing. It’s never made sense to me.”
“Maybe because you like girls,” Riva suggests.
“Even if I liked boys, that dude would give me the ick,” Sally tells her.
I feel completely out of my element, which is a novel experience given the structure and influence I’m used to wielding. In particular, I do not want to discuss girls, boys, or kissing with my daughter. However…
“You need a date?” I place a hand on Sadie’s shoulder like we’re old friends and ignore the flash of electricity that skitters along my arm. “I happen to look great in a tux. I can be your date.”
My daughter nods, and I appreciate the unexpected show of solidarity. “My dad would be a great date for a wedding. Mom says he’s a terrible boyfriend because he can’t do commitment, but he’s fun at a party.”
Is there any manner in which my daughter’s mother hasn’t disparaged me? Not that I don’t deserve it, but come on.
“Like I said, it’s complicated.” Sadie ducks out of my hold, and I let her go. I may be commitment-phobic, but I’m not a jackhole.
Sally grabs her wife’s hand and kisses Trina’s knuckles. “I’ll take it from here, hon. Sadie not only told her sister she’s bringing a date to the wedding, but that she has a boyfriend. So we need you to be her boyfriend for that weekend.”
“We are no longer friends,” Sadie says to Sally without emotion. “I don’t even know you.”
“Dad isn’t a good boyfriend,” Riva says, and she’s not wrong.
Sally pats the space on the couch between her and Trina. “Come here, little one, and take a load off. This is not a real boyfriend-girlfriend arrangement. Have you ever seen your father play football?”
Now it’s my cheeks that feel hot. Riva hasn’t been to one of my games since she was a toddler, and I doubt she remembers. It’s also unlikely Monika tunes into football during the season. She dated a couple of athletes after me, but quickly moved on to high-profile businessmen and A-list actors. Football was my world, but it kept me from being a real part of my daughter’s life.
“I watch sometimes.” Riva mumbles the words, focused on stroking the dog’s lopsided ears.
My heart seems to skip a beat even though I’m probably reading more into this moment than it deserves. But I want to believe it means something. Maybe she cares about me more than she lets on. Maybe there’s a way for us to rebuild our relationship here in this little town.
Sally gives her an approving smile. “Well, one of the plays that made The Playmaker famous is the flea flicker.”
“Like how dogs have fleas?” Riva grimaces. “Ewww.”
“It’s a trick play,” Sally explains. “Your dad takes the snap and pretends to hand it off to a running back like a standard rushing play.” She leans forward and whispers, “Then the magic happens.”
“It wasn’t magic,” I mutter, feeling the back of my neck warm.
Sally shoots me a quelling glance that clearly says ‘dude, I got this.’
“The running back pitches it to your dad again,” she tells Riva. “The defense is fooled into thinking it’s a run, so there are receivers open down field. Your dad uses the arm that made him famous to throw a deep pass and the crowd goes wild. It’s a high-risk, high-reward play that produces spectacular results when executed correctly. That’s what this weekend would be.”
“This is not football, and he’s not going to flea flick me,” Sadie argues.
“I could flea flick the shit out of you,” I mutter.
“Dad, language. And all the ick.”
“I don’t want to be flea flicked.” Sadie looks horrified. Damn if even that pruny face she’s making isn’t adorable.
“Do it for Piper,” Sally says, and the weighted silence that follows affirms those words are some sort of mic drop.
Sadie shakes her head. “We don’t need a trick play. It will be easier if my imaginary boyfriend and I break up right before the wedding. She’ll understand.”
It’s a good thing Sadie has a career as a dog trainer, because she would never be hired anywhere for her acting ability.
“She won’t and you know it,” Sally counters.
“The wedding is being held at a fancy-schmancy resort in Vail, so it’s not like anyone around here needs to know the truth,” Trina says.
“Did you and your sister grow up in Skylark?” I ask Sadie.
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter.”
“If she has friends from here going to the wedding, it matters,” Riva says.
“My thoughts exactly, my girl.” I offer her a slow grin that she returns almost shyly.
It’s a strange way to bond with my daughter, but I’ll take it.
“You can’t be serious about this.” Sadie takes several steps away, as if done with all of us, and then turns. “We can’t lie about being in a relationship in front of your daughter.”
Riva shrugs. “It can be part of my punishment.”
“Volunteering isn’t punishment,” Sadie argues.
“Neither is dating you,” I point out.
Sally and Trina applaud.
“I think it’s funny.” Riva makes kissy lips at Tempest. “Do you think Sadie and my dad in loooove is funny, Tempy?”
“At least consider it,” Trina implores Sadie.
“For Piper,” Sally adds with a knowing smile.
This little sister must be something special. Maybe the two of them weren’t close to their parents. I can relate, although I make a mental note to text Felix when we're back at the house.
Sadie seems to want to argue as her gaze settles on me, but she slowly nods. “Fine,” she whispers. “I guess I’ll do it.”
Spoken with about as much enthusiasm as a dental patient agreeing to a root canal.
Trina squeals with delight, earning an eye roll from Sadie. She looks irritated as hell. And still adorable. I need to get a grip.
She waves a hand at the group in general. “You all need to leave now so I can go to bed.”
“It’s seven-thirty,” Riva says with a giggle.
“This is going to be awesome, Sads.” Sally high-fives her wife over my daughter’s head. “Brad- ley is going to shit a brick when The Playmaker shows up. Poop a brick,” she amends as Riva elbows her.
I can’t believe how comfortable my girl is with this quirky trio of women, and how grateful I am to see her smiling so easily. At the same time, a twinge of jealousy tugs at my heart. Why can’t I have this kind of connection with Riva when I’ve changed almost everything about my life in order to facilitate it? Shit. I’m the problem.
“This isn’t about him,” Sadie answers, and it takes me a moment to realize she didn’t just read my mind. “I’m only agreeing so I don’t stress out Piper any more than she already is.”
Falling on the sword of fake dating me for her sister? So much for my irresistible charm. Immune to me—another thing she and my daughter have in common.
I can tell her friends are trying to tamp down their glee. They aren’t the only ones. I haven’t done much right in my life lately, but I’m going to rock this arrangement. Sadie deserves a hell of a fake boyfriend, and I plan to deliver.
“I totally ship the two of you,” Sally says as she stands, not too subtly pumping one fist in the air.
“Leave now,” Sadie answers.
Sally envelops her in a tight hug before leaving, and even though Sadie tries to act irritated, I see her sink into the embrace.
Before moving to Skylark, I didn’t give much thought to having friends. I had teammates, and that seemed like the same thing. Now that my football career is over, it’s become glaringly obvious it isn’t.
The two women head for the door like they’re determined to beat my daughter and me out. Sally turns at the last minute and nods her head in my direction. “I’m glad you agreed to this, Ian.”
The use of my given name rather than Playmaker tells me that whatever she’s about to say is serious.
“I hope you’re as good a fake boyfriend as you claim to be. Because if you hurt my friend, the best offensive line in the league won’t be enough to protect you.”
Sadie groans, but I nod. “Got it.”
“Nobody is getting hurt because none of this is real.” Sadie shoos her friends out the door.
“Let’s go, Riva.”
“Can we stay longer?” She crouches down next to Max, the canine mop still in her arms. “Your house is boring compared to this one. A dog would help.” She flashes a smile so sweet it makes my teeth ache.
“You know the answer to that.” I try to sound patient. “Your mom?—”
“Isn’t here,” she points out. “I could?—”
Sadie holds up a hand. “Oh, right. That’s another stipulation of you making amends by volunteering with me. You’re going to be around a lot of different dogs, and you’ll definitely bond with some of them. No borrowing.” She uses air quotes for the last word. “And no begging your dad. Your parents have set rules, and you need to follow them.”
The no-dog policy isn’t my rule. Monika tells people she’s deathly allergic, but I’m one of the few people who knows that’s not true. She simply doesn’t like animals, which her agent told her feels harsh in a world of celebrities who at least give lip service to being dedicated to their pets.
I’ve seen both sides. I had some teammates loyal to their furry companions and others just as happy to let the animals be raised by an assistant or housekeeper or random family member until they needed a dog for a photo op.
“But I really want—” Riva begins.
“It’s a non-negotiable part of the deal,” Sadie interrupts. “Take it or leave it.”
“Take it,” my daughter agrees, and I want to throw my arms around the woman smiling at her.
I’d like an excuse to get close to Sadie for a number of reasons, not the least of which is how good she is with my daughter. And she smells like a fucking dream come true. Like oranges and lemon and the secret to happiness all mixed into one heavenly scent.
She raises her gaze to me and that blush colors her cheeks again. “Now that they’re gone and nobody is around to pressure you, you can admit?—”
My turn to hold up a hand. “It’s all good. I’m happy to help. We can talk about the parameters and expectations once you decide on them. I’m game for anything.” Even without trying, my voice drops on the last word, sounding gravelly to my ears.
Sadie pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I nearly groan. “Okay, thank you. Just so you know, I don’t expect much.”
Why do I have the urge to change that?
“What time do you want me here in the morning?” Riva asks, unaware of the strange tension that’s crowding the air between Sadie and me. It’s probably for the best, at least for the moment.
“How about eight? Four dogs are coming for daycare tomorrow, and one six-month-old puppy will also be training. I want to introduce you to the owners as they drop off.”
I wait for my daughter to complain that eight is too early for summer break, but she nods. “See you then.” She glances at me. “Can we make brownies tonight?”
“Sure.” I try to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. She wants to hang out with me. I haven’t turned on the oven since I moved in, but I did buy a box of brownie mix at the grocery store before Riva arrived because she likes chocolate.
At least I did something right, although not nearly as much as Sadie Hart. Still, I’m grateful for any opportunity to spend time with Riva, even though her favor is fickle.
“Bye, Tempest.” Riva kisses the dog again, then sets her on the sofa and heads for the front door. “See you tomorrow, Sadie.”
When the screen slams shut, I turn to my neighbor. “Thanks again for being cool about Princess,” I tell her, trying to sound casual. Could she possibly understand how much I mean it? A simple thank you is inadequate to communicate everything I need to.
“You’re welcome.” She glances out the screen door instead of making eye contact. Riva is already halfway across the driveway. “You’re doing a good job, Ian.”
That isn’t true, but I appreciate her confidence in a man who has more confidence than sense and is relying on a woman I barely know to bolster my courage.
Whether she believes it or not, I owe Sadie Hart big time. The biggest. And I’m damn sure going to be the best fake dater the world—and more specifically the town of Skylark—has ever seen.