Chapter 36
EBBA
Two days later, after an intimate and cozy Christmas day and a delicious dinner I walk down the street with Fisher.
His hands hang at his sides, and I contemplate reaching out and taking one.
I can tell he’s backed off some, trying to keep the ball in my court.
I’m almost positive he doesn’t want me to feel pressured in any way, and I appreciate that, but it’s so much easier when he’s the one to take the lead.
“What are you thinking about over there?” he asks in a teasing tone. “I can hear the gears in your mind turning.”
“I was thinking about holding your hand.”
He arches a brow as we carry on down the street. “It takes that much brain power to decide if you want to hold my hand or not? I’m not sure whether to be flattered or horrified.”
“No, I just…” I shake my head.
“Are confused and don’t want to give me the wrong idea?” he supplies.
“Well, yeah.”
“Holding my hand isn’t going to make me think you’re committing to forever with me. We still have a few months Ebba.”
“I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
He straightens his baseball cap—the one he put on backwards before we left the house and has my ovaries jumping in delight. “A little.” He says it in a teasing way and winks, no doubt trying to make me feel better about my pathetic freak out. Fisher’s warm palm envelops mine. “This good?”
“Yes.” Looking around, all we’ve passed so far is farms. “There’s a lot of land around here, huh?”
“Yeah, there are a few big ranches right beside each other. My mom mentioned there’s a bit of a rivalry between two of them.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” I ask, spotting a man in the distance atop a massive horse. His cowboy hat shields his eyes from the sun. He appears to whistle and some sort of cattle dog comes running over to him.
“No. Have you?”
I shake my head. “No, and I don’t think with my leg I would feel comfortable now.”
“I bet we could make it work. If that’s something you’d like to do.”
I think it over for a moment and shake my head. “Nah. I think I’m good.”
His laughter has my stomach swooping. “All right. I won’t push it.”
We continue to walk along the country road that seems to stretch endlessly. My skin feels warm from the sun shining down on us, it’s almost seventy degrees today, but since I’m used to some sweltering heat at my brother’s matches this feels downright chilly in comparison.
Thoughts of my brother have me saying, “Do you really think Noah is going to retire soon?”
“Yes,” he answers without a hint of hesitation.
“He wants to enjoy his personal life. Be a more present dad. I can’t begrudge him that.
Some of these guys—they eat, sleep, and breathe this sport.
I’m not saying Noah isn’t driven, because he is or he wouldn’t have come back after Annie passed.
” Annie, Noah’s wife who passed from cancer years ago, and someone I knew well from attending tournaments.
“But I think her passing, and then later meeting Sabrina, made him realize what matters most to him is family. He’s made excellent money and he’s in a good position to retire with minimal serious injuries. ”
“And do you think you’d coach my brother?”
He twists his lips side to side, contemplating my question. “I would love to coach Elias if he wants me, but I wouldn’t coach him if you didn’t want me to.”
“Really?” I blurt out in surprise.
“Really,” he replies with a chuckle. “Is that so unbelievable?”
“Well, I mean it’s a job for you with an excellent player.”
He stops walking and tugs gently on my hand, bringing me to a stop beside him. “And you’re his twin sister. You’re around him all the time. If you decide you don’t want to be with me, I won’t force my presence on you even for a job. You deserve peace, not to still have me in your space.”
I frown. I hadn’t thought of that.
Looking up at him, I say, “I would never want to keep you from a job even if we weren’t together.”
He releases a deep breath. “Let me put it this way, Ebba, I don’t think I could handle seeing you that often and you not being mine.”
My breath catches. “Oh.”
He gives me a small, almost sad smile. I’m not sure I comprehend the depths of his man’s feelings for me.
As if he can’t help himself, he reaches out and tucks a curl behind my ear. “You have no idea what you mean to me.” I swear he must’ve read my thoughts. “But I don’t hate myself enough to be that close to you and not have you.”
“Oh,” I say again dumbly.
“I hate telling you this stuff—” his thumb grazes my cheek— “because I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pressure or guilt you.”
“No.” I drop my gaze to our feet. His sneaker is scuffed on the end, and I wonder if he stubbed his toe or it’s just worn from tennis. I don’t exactly study my brother’s shoes, so I can’t say for certain. “I don’t feel pressured. I’d rather know where your thoughts are at.”
Fisher drops his hands, this time tucking them into the pockets of his pants. “We better head back. The sun will be setting soon.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agree. We’ve only gone about a mile, but at our casual pace it might take twenty minutes to get back. It’s felt good to stretch my leg, though, and I’m glad to have a reprieve from any pain today.
When we make it back to the small neighborhood, the sun is beginning its descent.
“Let’s sit and watch the sunset.” I point to a bench in the small playground area near the entrance.
Fisher follows me to the bench and settles beside me.
I inhale his familiar scent. It reminds me of a rainforest, or at least what I imagine one would smell like—earthy, with a hint of citrus, and something stronger. The scent seems to be stitched into the fabric of his soft looking hoodie.
Fisher leans back, resting his elbows on the back of the bench.
“Would you ever move out here to be closer to your parents?”
He thinks about it for a long moment as the sun sinks lower.
“I don’t know. It wouldn’t be a bad place to raise kids one day, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for the smalltown life.
Something closer to the city would interest me more and I’m not set on staying in Texas either.
I guess it’s because I’ve traveled so much, but it doesn’t seem like a huge deal to hop on a plane to come visit them whenever I want. ”
His mention of kids has my throat closing up, and shockingly it’s not because my thoughts go to Grace, but instead I can’t help but feel terror grip me at the thought of him having kids with someone that’s not me one day. It’s enough to have my stomach feeling a little queasy.
“What about you?” he asks. “Do you want to settle down in Miami?”
I shrug, stretching my leg out in front of me. “I don’t know. I’ve loved living in Miami but I’m not there a lot of the time so I guess I’m not sure how I would feel if I were there year-round. I guess I have the same thought as you—to move some place just outside of a major city.”
“How’s your social media going?” he asks, knocking his knee into mine as he adjusts. “I haven’t asked you in a while.”
I smirk at him. “You mean you haven’t been obsessively stalking all my posts?”
Teasing him comes so naturally.
“No.” He gives me a serious look. “I never wanted to torture myself with what I knew I couldn’t have. Besides, I’m not on social media much.”
I dip my head in acknowledgment, my throat tight over what he’s said. I think Fisher Grant might be the king of yearning. I don’t know how to feel about that, to know this man has never stopped caring about me. I never stopped caring about him either, though.
“To answer your original question, it’s going well. I’ve been working with a lot of brands I love and I’m so close to a million followers.” I try not to let my excitement show too much at that information, but his grin has me answering it with a smile of my own.
“A million? That’s incredible, Ebba.”
“Not quite, but almost. Maybe another month or two until I’m there.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
Five simple words, but they send my heart soaring. I didn’t know it would make me this elated for him to tell me he’s proud of me.
“Thanks.” I duck my head shyly, but he grips my chin loosely and urges me to look at him again.
“Don’t shy away from your accomplishments. You should be proud of yourself, too.”
When the sun is almost gone, we get up to finish the short trek back to his parents.
I reach for his hand this time and curl my fingers around his. His do the same with mine. Leaning my head against his arm, I let myself wonder what it might be like if all my evenings were like this one.