Page 54 of The Way We Touch
We’re back at Jack’s place doing post-mortem. His brother walks out onto the back porch, Corona in hand, and leans against the railing. “What do you think about that Austin Sinclair kid for QB-2?”
Garrett’s eyebrows rise, and he puckers his lips. “Allie’s son? He’s a natural talent.”
“He makes good, snap decisions, and the other guys seem to like him,” I add, remembering my days as a quarterback in high school. “He’s not nervous or indecisive.”
“He’s got the makings of a star.” Jack nods, taking a long sip.
“Hell, you ought to know!” Garrett laughs.
“We’ll train him.” Jack nods. “I think he’s mature enough to handle it.”
“Allie’s going to cry.” Garrett leans back, and his older brother’s jaw flexes.
It’s the first hint we’ve gotten that he’s not as oblivious to Allie’s feelings for him as he lets on. “In that case, I’ll let you break the news.”
“Don’t tell me Coach Jack is afraid of a few tears.” Garrett’s voice turns teasing. “Afraid she might put her arms around your neck and try to kiss you?”
I rub my hand over my mouth to hide my laugh.
His brother exhales a growl as he goes through the screen door into the house, leaving us alone on the back porch.
“Why don’t you go home. It’s late.” He calls to us. “Quit drinking all my beer.”
Garrett laughs louder, tilting his head back before standing. I grin watching them, wondering what it would’ve been like to have siblings. Wondering how I’d feel if Dylan were my little sister, and someone like me came calling.
If he knew what I wanted to do to her—what we’ve already done—he’d probably want to kick my ass. But I know how I feel about that beautiful woman, and there’s nothing I won’t do to make her happy and make her mine.
“Come on.” He grips my shoulder, and I follow him down the back steps to the path leading along the bay.
We’re close enough to walk to his family’s home, and I figure now is as good a time as any to rip off the Band-Aid. We stroll past a group of kids playing frisbee in a small, grassy park, and we pause a moment to watch them.
“You seemed distracted today,” Garrett says as we start walking again. “Preseason’s about to start. Thinking about next year?”
“Some.” I have been thinking about next year, but not for the reasons he assumes.
“Ricky’s got it in for you, but I’ve got a good feeling about it. We’re going to get you that MVP trophy.” He grins, shaking my shoulder, and I nod. “What? Has your dad been busting your balls again?”
“No more than usual.” I clear my throat as we take a few more steps.
I’d planned out a few different ways to bring up the subject, but none of them feel particularly subtle.
So I just go for it. “Dylan’s really nice. I’ve been talking to her, and I really like her.”
“Yeah, she’s a great kid. She’s an even better cook. I’ve been encouraging her to go to culinary school, but she’s so stubborn.”
“You have?” I feel a little miffed this is the first I’m hearing about it, but I don’t let it distract me. “I was just wondering why she’s not dating anybody.”
“Oh, she was. Some dickhead golfer who cheated on her. That asshole better not show his face around here while we’re in town.”
I second that emotion. Why didn’t I know about this either? He’d better not have made her cry. The thought of Dylan crying has my temperature rising. My fists clench, and I’m ready to find that fucker and kick his ass.
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, Davis Kent. Doesn’t he just sound like a douche?” Garrett shakes his head. “She needs a man who’ll treat her like a queen.”
“I think so, too.” We take a few steps, and my throat is dry. “Speaking of, I was thinking about asking her out, maybe taking her somewhere nice for dinner.”
“Really?” He squints at me. “That’s really thoughtful of you, LL. Need a recommendation? Want me to go with you?”