Touching Down(37)

With a long exhale, he acted like he had to make himself look away. “Before you make your final decision, let me add a few things that might help sway your vote.”

“In your favor, no doubt.”

His dark brow lifted. “No doubt.” He let that punctuate the air before continuing. “I’ve already moved into the pool house, so you don’t have to feel strange about ‘sharing’ a house with me. You know, in case that, and how you were going to explain that to Charlie, was one of your concerns. I thought it would be easier to just live in totally separate structures.”

He’d moved into his pool house? Wait. Grant Turner had a pool house?

“What? No way. We are not kicking you out of your house, Grant—”

Before I could continue, he cut me off. “Already done. This behemoth is too damn big for one person anyway. I get lost, so the pool house is a better set-up for me anyway.”

“Grant, no—”

“And let me just throw in that Mrs. Kent prepares nutritious, well-balanced meals every day, there’s a library inside that’s a perfect place for Charlie to do her schoolwork in, and the city’s best neurologist specializing in Huntington’s office is a ten-minute drive away.” When he was done listing things off on his fingers, he gave me a victorious smile, like he already knew my answer but was just dying to hear me say it.

I sighed, knowing my answer already too. I just wasn’t quite ready to give in. “Anything else?”

Grant motioned at the fountain Charlie had moved on to playing a mermaid in. “I’ve got a swimming fountain.”

My smile came naturally, which was a nice change. Most of them had been the forced kind lately. “Sold.”

Beside me, he visibly relaxed. Almost like a weight had been lifted that had been capable of crushing him. “Good,” he exhaled.

“And you’re wrong about us being the only family you’ll ever have. One day that will change. One day you’ll meet someone amazing, and you’ll have more amazing children with her.” My throat bobbed as I swallowed, my eyes getting blurry as I watched the child he’d created with me. Grant had always been special to me. It might have taken the world a while to see it, but now the rest of the planet knew how wonderful he was too.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He sniffed, shaking his head.

My head leaned back into his broad shoulder as we watched Charlie. At the same time the motion was familiar, it was foreign. Time had blurred the sensation, making it sharper. “Why not?”

His chin tucked over my head at the same time I felt his arm come around behind me. I felt his throat move against my head when he swallowed. “Because how do you go and fall in love with someone new when you left your heart with someone else?”





“WHY DID YOU used to dress like that?” Charlie’s voice echoed from the massive living room into the equally massive kitchen. Grant had given us the grand tour a few hours ago, but I still couldn’t remember where the elevator was that would take us to the second and third floor. You know, if the stairs were too big of an inconvenience.

“Because I had to look tough, that’s why,” Grant answered as I counted down the timer on the microwave.

“Why did you have to look tough?”

“So I wouldn’t get my as . . .”—a quick clearing of his throat—“so I wouldn’t get my butt kicked. That’s why I had to look tough.”

“You don’t dress like that anymore.”

“That’s because I don’t have to worry about getting my butt kicked anymore.”

“Why not?” Charlie asked as the microwave timer went off.

“Because now I’m the one who does the butt-kicking. Every Sunday on the field.”

Her laugh chimed through the house. “But instead of clothes that look ten sizes too big, you wear spandex that look ten sizes too small.”

Halfway back into the living room, I choked on my laugh. Both from Charlie’s words and the wounded look on Grant’s face. “Hey, the spandex came as a package deal with the contract. I don’t have a choice.”

“Sure, you don’t.” I winked at Charlie as I moved into the room. “That’s why you’re wearing spandex right here as we speak.”

Grant’s wounded expression turned on me. Then he pinched the tights in question. “These are compression tights. My trainer makes me wear these after an intense practice. Again, no choice in the matter. Package deal with the contract.”

This time, Charlie winked at me. “Sure, it is,” she said in a sarcastic tone that made her mama proud.