Chapter nine #2
And even though a part of me knows better, somehow, I find myself driving around town looking for a park where soccer games are being played.
It doesn’t take me long to locate a sports complex that is filled with cars and people, whistles echoing in the background and bursts of cheering grab my attention as I step out of my car and head toward the fields.
I don’t know why I’m here.
Well, that’s not entirely true. It turns out that curiosity is a powerful drug, and after my conversation with Astrid on the beach, I convinced myself that knowledge is power.
If Dallas won’t show me this side of himself, perhaps I just need to discover it on my own.
Plus, I need to thank him for the scarecrow, especially since I can already tell that it’s working.
It stopped the geese in their tracks this morning when they attempted to ambush me as I left.
But I’m still riding the denial train as I walk along the grass.
I’m not here because the man intrigues me.
It’s not because every time we’re near each other my blood hums through my veins with electricity.
And it’s not because the man has been starring in one too many dirty dreams of mine that remind me how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed the touch of a man.
Nope. It has nothing to do with any of that.
“Yes! Go toward the goal!”
Shouting to my right has my head spinning in that direction with recognition. I find Astrid jumping up and down as a young boy dribbles the ball toward the goal.
“Pass, Bentley!” Penn yells just before Astrid’s son sends the ball across the field to the one of his teammates. The other player moves past a defender and then passes it back to Bentley, who perfectly kicks the ball past the goalie and into the net.
“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”
My eyes shift in the direction of that voice, landing on Dallas with a proud smile on his face.
His eyes are covered by aviator sunglasses, his head by a backward ball cap, and his broad chest by a lime green t-shirt that matches the team jerseys.
It’s then that I notice the word COACH on his back and on Penn’s shirt as well.
“That’s right, boys. Let’s do it again!” Penn and Dallas share a small conversation after encouraging their players, and then the game picks back up.
I find a spot right next to Astrid, who’s seated in a folding chair and texting someone on her phone, oblivious to my approach. “That was a beautiful goal.”
Wide eyes peer up at me before her smile goes just as big. “Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?” Launching from her seat, she pulls me into a hug.
“I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by and cheer on Bentley.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Sure,” she drags out. “It has nothing to do with me telling you who else would be here today.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Whatever you say. What’s the score?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Three to one now. It’s been a nail-biter.”
“How much time is left?”
“I’m not sure. Probably ten minutes or so. They just started the fourth quarter.”
“Then I’d better stick around to congratulate them if they win.”
“Yeah. Okay.” She nudges me with her shoulder with a knowing grin on her lips, and then we focus back on the field where the game grows even more intense as the other team scores a goal, making the score three to two.
***
“That was insane.” My hands rest over my racing heart. “How do you do that every week?”
“I feel like each game I watch takes another year off my life,” Astrid jokes, and we share a laugh.
“Mom! We won!” Bentley races over to her, slamming into her side.
“I know, honey. I was watching. Congratulations! You guys did amazing.” She kisses the top of his head.
“They did, didn’t they?” Dallas walks over, pride etched into every line of his face. “If they keep playing like that, they’ll be going to the championship tournament, no doubt.”
“We will. We’re unstoppable,” Bentley states confidently.
“No, you guys work hard and as a team. But no one is unstoppable,” Dallas corrects him. “Come on, bud. We need to shake hands with the other team still.” He casts his eyes to me, offers me a curt nod, and then walks away.
Bentley runs after him as they display sportsmanship that warms my heart. I never played sports growing up, but I can appreciate the fact that Dallas and Penn are teaching these boys to be gracious winners. That speaks very highly of them both.
After one of the parents hands out snacks to the boys and Dallas and Penn talk to the team for a few more minutes, Bentley runs back over to Astrid and me. Lilly jumps from her spot on the grass where she was playing with one of the siblings of another boy and hugs her brother.
“Good job, B.”
“Thanks, Lilly.”
“You did great, Bentley. I was very impressed,” I say, smiling down at him.
He flashes me a genuine smile. “Thanks, Willow. I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
“Neither did I,” a familiar voice interjects.
I look up to see Dallas striding toward us, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a clipboard in his hand.
When he stops in front of me and takes off his sunglasses, I’m immediately captivated by those intense dark eyes.
The longer I look into them, the more hypnotized I become—and no matter how hard I try, I can’t look away.
God, he looks more mouthwatering each time I see him.
And a backward hat? Why is that so freaking hot?
“Well, it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. I was in the neighborhood.” I shrug, trying to act aloof.
“Out exploring the town?” Dallas asks, continuing to hold my gaze.
“Something like that.”
Astrid grins as she looks between us, but then ushers her kids to the side. “We’re going to get going, but thanks for coming, Willow. See you soon?”
“Yeah. I’ll text you.”
Astrid walks away, leaving me and Dallas alone.
“You two seem to be getting awfully friendly,” he says, shifting in his stance while he shoves the clipboard under his arm.
“Is that a problem?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. Astrid is exactly the type of person you want in your corner.”
“Well, I happen to think so too.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear that’s escaped my ponytail. “She’s been extremely kind and welcoming, something I’m not used to around here,” I say in a teasing tone.
“Well, maybe some people didn’t give you the best first impression, but they’re trying to correct their mistakes.”
I squint up at him. “Are you speaking about yourself in the third person right now?”
He smirks. “Maybe.”
“Well then, I guess this would be a good time to say thank you for the scarecrow, especially if that was your attempt at apologizing. Although, I think it would have been even scarier if you had put your face on it instead of mine.”
His grin is infectious. “I don’t know. Those geese were after me just as much as they were after you. I think my face would only attract them more.”
“Are you saying I’m attractive?”
“No. I’m saying I am.” He’s teasing me, I know it. But part of me really is curious if he’s attracted to me or not.
God, I hate that I really want to know the answer to that question.
I roll my eyes at him instead. “Lord, you’re so full of yourself.”
“I’m full of a lot of things…”
“What do we have here?” Penn comes by, gripping the shoulders of a young boy in front of him and side-stepping him to move closer to us.
“Willow was in the neighborhood and just happened to show up at our game,” Dallas replies before I can.
“Huh. That’s convenient.” Penn plays dumb, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of us. “Well, I’m going to go home and grab my tools, and then I’ll be by your house in little while, right, Willow?”
I shift my gaze over to him. “Yes. Thank you. I think I might try to paint today while you’re working downstairs.”
“Sounds good.” Penn walks away with the boy, leaving us alone once more.
I clear my throat, intent on following through with why I came here in the first place. “As I was saying, thank you for the scarecrow. I think it’s helping.”
“How so?”
“Well, they wouldn’t walk past it this morning when I was leaving. It was like it put off an invisible forcefield, blocking their path.”
“It actually is covered in a repellent that helps deter them, although I think it’s the sign that really does the trick.” He taps his temple and winks. “I told you, Willow. Manners go a long way.”
I shake my head at him, fighting my smile. “Gosh, that must be it. But seriously,” I pause, drawing a deep breath before uttering, “thank you. It was a…pleasant surprise. And I’m sorry too, for how I acted before.”
Leaning forward slightly, his hands shoved in his pockets now, our eyes lock as I catch a whiff of his scent—sandalwood mixed with sweat.
“You’re welcome, and I accept.” I bite my lip, not sure of where to go from here, but luckily Dallas speaks next.
“We should probably get going. Where are you parked?”
“Over there.” I point to the lot adjacent to the field.
“Me too. Come on”—he nods in that direction—“I’ll walk with you.”
We walk toward the parking lot side by side, stealing glances at each other as we go.
“So painting today, huh?” he asks, replacing his sunglasses on his face again.
“Yeah. Big plans. Although I actually have some experience with that, so at least I’m not afraid of messing it up too badly.”
“What room?”
“The master.”
Dallas grumbles. “I hate painting. My hand always ends up looking like The Claw.”
“From Liar, Liar?”
He nods. “Yup. I bet Jim Carrey painted for hours so he could make his hand look like that.”
Laughing, I say, “It definitely takes a toll on your body if you do it for too long.”
He nods again but keeps his eyes forward. “What color are you thinking?”
“Bright yellow,” I answer without hesitation, curious to see what his reaction will be. Honestly, I’m not opposed to the color, but I have a feeling Dallas might have an opinion about the choice.