Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
LAW
I step out onto the patio of my suite, drawing in a long breath of ocean air. In the distance I hear music and laughter, probably from the restaurant here at the resort that most of my teammate, Colby, and his new wife, Gabriella’s, guests are using. Between the handful of family and friends they invited and then a good chunk of the football team, we’ve got this whole section of the resort rented out.
Jett McCombs, the Pumas quarterback, waves at me as he and his girlfriend Ava walk past on the beach, heading in the direction of the restaurant. Ava holds a toddler, and Jett is hanging onto the hands of two older boys—his nephews and niece, I assume. I met Jett’s brother and his wife yesterday, since they have a suite just a couple doors down from mine, but we were all so exhausted from flying over there wasn’t much small talk.
“Ready?” Ivy asks, coming out onto the patio with me. I’m new to the Pumas, and I wasn’t about to come on this trip without some backup, so I brought my best friend to make sure I had someone to hang out with. Funny, since I haven’t seen her most of the day.
“Yeah.” I step out onto the sand and let Ivy lead the way to the restaurant. I need to use this trip to make friends with some more guys. I played with Colby in college, so I know him well, but he’s the honeymooner—basically. He and Gabriella keep insisting that this isn’t a honeymoon. They already went to Bali in March. Apparently, this is in place of the beach wedding they didn’t get to have because they got married in the middle of the last season.
The music gets louder as we approach, and plenty of Pumas players and their families dance on a wooden platform lined with lights that juts out from the restaurant. I smile at the sight, and Ivy tugs on my arm, hurrying me inside.
“I’m starving,” she says as an excuse before turning to the hostess to give our room number.
“Must have been busy today.” I raise an eyebrow at her while we follow the hostess to a table.
“I had to snorkel right away,” Ivy says, plopping into the seat of a small table just off the dance floor. I settle into mine across from her as the hostess hands us the menus and tells us a waiter will be by shortly. “The Maui Snorkel Report said it was awesome at Honolua Bay.”
I chuckle in response, looking over the menu. I am not a snorkeler, much to Ivy’s dismay. I’m happy to chill on a beach with a book or something, which she makes fun of me for constantly, always ribbing me for not being a typical jock. She does have me convinced to take surfing lessons later in the week, though.
This restaurant has mostly American food, which is okay with me. I’ll eat authentic Hawaiian somewhere other than the resort. I settle on a steak-and-potatoes meal and lay down my menu, my attention landing on the dance floor again.
A woman I don’t recognize holds Jett’s niece now, twirling around with her, both of them laughing at the way the little girl’s dress spins. I smile as the toddler grabs at the woman’s long skirt, pulling it out, obviously indicating that she wants the woman to spin too. She obliges, and I’m captivated for a moment by the woman’s huge smile and sparkling green eyes. She picks the little girl up, and her waist-length, strawberry blond hair swings out behind her as she and the girl spin. Her skirt doesn’t twirl as much as the little girl’s did, but the toddler is still delighted, pointing at it.
Since I met Jett’s sister-in-law yesterday, I know this woman isn’t the girl’s mother. It just reminds me that the Pumas team is tight-knit, and I note my gratitude for that. They’ll accept me too, I’m sure. Playing for the Pumas was never in my football plans. I’ve had my sights set on the Nashville Blues for so long, grew up believing that was my destination, worked my butt off through high school and college and then on the LA Rays so my dream team would look hard at me—I stop myself. I can’t go down this thought path. I’m more than fortunate to be playing for the Pumas, even though it’s not something I ever planned on. Besides, anytime I speak to the media, I have to put forward the face of a total team player for the Pumas. It’s way easier to do that if I don’t dwell on what I feel like I missed out on.
I watch the woman and the little girl until a waiter comes by, drops off two glasses of water, and then asks for our drink orders.
“What did you do today?” Ivy asks when the waiter has gone.
“Finished that habits book you’ve been on me to read.” I put my elbows on the table and lean over.
“And?” she asks, mirroring my movements.
“It was good. Just as motivating as you said it would be. I’ve already got a list of things to work on.”
“A little at a time,” she reminds me, pointing a stern finger my way. It just makes me laugh. Ivy has wispy, pale blond hair that’s always escaping her ponytail or braid or whatever. Even when she’s wearing it down, like now, there are flyaways that make it look like she hasn’t bothered to comb it in a while. With her bright blue eyes and heart-shaped face, she never comes off as stern as she wishes she did. It’s hilarious to me that she’s a life coach, that anyone actually does what she tells them to. But maybe her cheerfulness is what motivates people to keep trying with her.
“Right. One percent better.” I nod at her obediently, and she beams.
The woman and the little girl come off the dance floor, and Ivy waves at them. They stop at our table, although the little girl tugs away and runs over to Jett, who’s at a bigger table more toward the middle of the restaurant. The woman watches her run over and get Jett’s attention before turning back to me and Ivy.
I stand automatically, something my Southern grandmother drilled into me from the time I was little.
“Hi, Ivy,” the woman says, smiling. She turns to me, nodding and smiling as well.
“Carlie.” Ivy waves in my direction. “Have you met Law yet?”
Carlie shakes her head and puts out a hand, which I take, and I notice a streak of red paint down one side. “Carlie Gallagher,” she says. “I’m Jenna’s sister, you know. Jett’s sister-in-law.”
“Right. Yeah. Lawson Card.” I’m still holding her hand, and her smile grows. I should let it go, but I don’t.
“Yeah. The new guy.”
Up close, I see pale freckles across her nose and cheeks. I can’t look away from her eyes, which are such a striking color. My answering laugh to her calling me the new guy comes several seconds too late, and when I glance at Ivy, she smirks knowingly.
“That’s me.” I finally let go of Carlie’s hand. A shiver of awareness runs through me, as though my body wants me to take note of what just happened here. I’m not a love-at-first-sight kind of guy, but there was definitely a spark.
“Jett says you’re one of the best tight ends in the league, and he can’t wait to really start making plays with you.” She tucks her hands into the pockets of her skirt, glances sideways at Ivy, and then backs up a step.
I have suspicions right away about what that means. It happens a lot. Ivy and I are close, and I did bring her on a vacation. We’re sitting at a table for two. Of course, anyone would assume that there’s something going on between us. Most of my team has already. But our relationship isn’t romantic in the least. I have no idea how to convey that to Carlie right now.
“He’s a great quarterback,” I finally say. “I’m eager to see what we can do together.”
She smiles. “I’m sure it will be awesome.” She casts a glance over her shoulder and turns to Ivy. “I’d better go help with the kids. I’ll see you guys around.” She gives me one more look and then strides away. I watch as she leans over the younger of the two boys at the table and then crouches next to him, nodding at whatever he’s telling her.
“Let me guess,” Ivy says as I sink back into my seat. “Make sure she knows I have no territorial claim on you.”
I was so obvious about my attraction to Carlie that I’m not offended by Ivy’s guess. “If you don’t mind.”
“I’m used to it by now. Especially the looks—like, why in the world would you not be dating that gorgeous football player?” She gives a faux long-suffering sigh. “I cannot get through to these women that your inexplicable love for historical fiction is the biggest turnoff,” she teases.
I snort. “You’re just annoyed that it’s not something macho like battlefields and wars.”
“Look at you!” She shakes her head in exasperation. “You have a stereotype to live up to, Law, and you’re failing miserably.”
I laugh, and then scoot back as the waiter arrives with our food. By the time he’s served both me and Ivy, her attention has wandered around the room. She’s genuinely interested in every person that crosses her path, so it doesn’t surprise me that she’s already met Carlie, and probably half the team and their families. That’s the other reason I brought Ivy. She’s outgoing and loves to talk to people. She’ll help me make friends on my new team, and although I’m not shy, I always welcome her nudges and extrovert expertise.
“How do you know Carlie?” I ask, bringing her attention back to me.
“She was playing with Jett’s nephews on the beach this morning when I went for my run. I stopped to chat,” she says. Of course she did. “Jett paid for her and the kids to come, but he still wants Devin and Jenna to get the vacation they need?—”
“Devin and Jenna?” Carlie mentioned that name earlier—Jett’s sister-in-law. So Devin must be her husband.
“Jett’s brother and his wife, Carlie’s sister,” Ivy confirms.
“Ah.”
“I think she’s had the kids most of today—she’s a former preschool teacher—but I guess they’re doing some activities tomorrow, and then Jett has them, so she’ll have some free time too. It sounds like Jett is big on everyone in his family getting R&R except for him.” She pauses only to take a bite of the enormous salad the waiter brought for her.
I’m not shocked Ivy gleaned this much information from what was probably a five-minute conversation. “Jett does seem like the busy type.”
“You should ask Carlie if she wants to go hiking with you tomorrow.”
I was going to ask a couple of the receivers I had lunch with today, but Carlie does sound like a more attractive option. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Ivy wiggles her eyebrows and takes another bite and then she goes back to surveying the restaurant. She’ll know something about all of my teammates and their families before the end of this week, and that’s what I’m counting on to help me fit in.