Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
The seven-on-seven play allowed for more participants…or chaos, depending on whose team you were on. This game was Wood Hollow versus Fallbrook. We didn’t stand a chance.
Wood Hollow had a considerable advantage in every aspect of the game. Not only were they faster, they knew each other well enough to assign positions based on ability instead of winging it. Chad Holbrook had been the quarterback his senior year at Fallbrook High, and sure, that had been thirty years ago, but Chad was convinced he hadn’t lost his mojo yet. Maybe the interception he threw that led to a pick-six was a fluke.
On his second fumbled pass, Lynn O’Grady called for a lineup change. She was a fortysomething former college badminton champion who volunteered to coach her kids’ games on the weekends.
“Give the ball to Coop, Chad. He was a QB for the Hornets and I know it grinds your gears, but they were always better than us,” she said.
“Nah, it’s okay.” I braced my hands on my knees, eying my cocky lover high-fiving his teammates after gaining another significant set of downs.
“C’mon. It’s worth a shot,” Lynn cajoled, adding a grumpy, “They may win, but let’s not roll out the red carpet, for Pete’s sake.”
Because this was low-stakes fun, no one cared about the quarterback change. Except…my kids yelling, “Go, Dad!” and “You can do it, Dad!” from the sideline, and Silas, who flashed a radiant smile and whispered, “Just when I didn’t think you could get any hotter” as he sidled by me to join his teammates.
Sidenote: Once upon a time, I’d been a promising quarterback who’d led Wood Hollow to the Four Forest league championship two years in a row. We’d even been invited to the state championships my senior year. Those were rusty credentials, but I was certainly as qualified as Chad to salvage a little pride for Fallbrook.
And you know, I did okay. Not great, but my long pass connected and we scored a goal.
You’d have thought it was a Super-Bowl-winning Hail Mary. Chase and Ivy and their friends danced and hooted in the end zone, Reg used a police megaphone to announce the touchdown while a veritable who’s-who from my youth cheered uproariously, including my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Flack, and the mailman, Mr. Scott, who told everyone he’d been delivering mail since Kennedy was president…probably a lie, but no one called him on it.
Bottom line, it was fun. And Silas’s pantomimed incredulity was comedy gold. He flopped onto his knees in faux defeat, then collapsed onto his back.
I laughed and offered him a hand. “C’mon, Anderson. There’s no crying in football, and you’re still kicking my ass.”
He jumped up, waved to the audience, and made a show of shaking my hand. “True. And I already won my prize, so…it’s all good.”
“What is this hypothetical prize supposed to be?” I asked.
“Can’t tell you here. I might get arrested.” With that, he winked and jogged away.
My cock twitched in my joggers as I gazed after him.
Me. Single dad, respected boss, community member.
But I couldn’t help it.
Silas Anderson was in my system and under my skin. He’d invaded my hometown, charmed my children, my coworkers, and the whole damn town, and somehow, I was going to have to make sure no one knew it.
I didn’t plan to say good-bye to Silas after the festivities. I knew where to find him, and I didn’t want to give myself away. But Ivy and Chase waved him down in the parking lot and begged him to wait. They each took their backpacks from my truck and hustled to the Jeep in the next row while I trailed behind.
“We have to go to our mom’s house,” Chase announced. “We won’t be back for a whole week.”
“Oh, man.” Silas blew a raspberry, crossing his arms as he leaned on his vehicle.
“Maybe you could hang out with Dad,” Ivy said in a low voice I didn’t think I was meant to hear.
Silas glanced over at me. “I’m going to Boston this week, but I’ll see what I can do.”
He high-fived each of them, fist-bumped me, and it was time to move on.
Sarah was waiting for us at my truck. She held her arms open for the kids and that was it—the signal that my time was up. I hated this part. I truly hated it.
I’d always thought it would get easier, but it never did. If there was an upside, it was that I’d have a night alone with Silas before he left.
That was definitely something to look forward to.
Silas opened his door and pulled me inside, pushing me against the nearest wall and shoving his tongue down my throat like a man possessed. Or starving.
“Holy shit. I’m fucking dying. Are you dying? It’s been days,” he moaned in between feverish kisses.
I unzipped my jacket and straightened, biting his lower lip and his chin. “Upstairs.”