On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(23)

“From the first moment I held a football in my hands, something changed in me.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I was maybe five or six years old when my grandfather gave me a football. I just remember coming alive. Waking up every day and wanting to play.”

I remembered that day with my grandfather like it was yesterday.

“Like it was a part of you?”

“Sure. I’d say that’s a fair statement. It was all fun and games back then. I played flag football for years, and then things started changing in high school. It was no longer just a hobby or something I looked forward to doing. It was what I wanted to pursue.”

She nodded.

“So, Lincoln, tell us about the next level of play. About getting recruited to college.”

I held up two fingers to remind her that this counted as question number two.

She glared in response, and I forced back a smile. I liked irritating her.

“I got one offer to play at a small college in Iowa, where I’d grown up. My high school coach knew Jack Hardin, who coached at Iowa State College, and he took a chance on me. He’s also the man who helped me transfer to Alabama from there. I still wasn’t their best guy, so I didn’t get a ton of playing time when I first arrived. But I was training with top-notch coaches and athletes. Learning. Taking it all in. Working my ass off every day to try to get better.”

She paused and studied me for a long minute, as if she was contemplating her next question. I already knew I wasn’t going to like it by the look on her face.

“We’ve all seen your mother out there at every game. Can you tell us about your father and if he played a role in your football journey?”

I could feel my face hardening. My hands fisted, and I made a conscious effort to relax before I spoke. “Next question.”

We sat in silence for a minute. “Tell me about the draft.”

“Not a lot to tell. I was happy to get drafted by San Francisco. I was their second-string QB when I first came on, and Pete McGuire ended up injured, which put me out on the field before anyone thought I was really ready.”

“And you proved everyone wrong, didn’t you?”

“Not sure about that, but I’d say the season went well that year. We didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, but we finished second in our division.”

“That’s where you started playing with Brett Jacobs and Lenny Waters, right?”

“Yep. They’re my brothers, and I miss playing with them.” I knew exactly where she was going to take this.

“That leads us to the question everyone wants to know. There are rumors that you will join them out in New York. I know you haven’t made your decision, but is that the team you are considering?”

“That was three, sweetheart. That’s enough for today.”

She groaned and turned off her phone. “This isn’t usually how this works.”

“Tell me how it works.” I pushed to my feet and held out a hand and pulled her up.

There was a charge when we touched that I couldn’t explain.

I quickly dropped her hand.

“Well, as soon as the conversation starts to flow, you’re calling it done. That’s usually when things start getting good.”

“I guess you’ll have to be creative, then.”

“You’re enjoying making this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Listen, I’m giving you my story. More than I’ve ever given anyone else. You can shop it around. Use this to leverage your dream job. But we go at my pace. We’ve got time.”

“Fine.” She followed me back out to the kitchen, and I guzzled another Gatorade, offering her one, but she held up the one I’d given her earlier to show me she was still working on it.

“So, were those questions okay? You seemed irritated when I asked about your father.”

She didn’t know when to stop, but she’d learn quickly that I wouldn’t suddenly change my mind. She was good, but no one was that good. There were things that were off-limits, and she’d have to respect that.

“I told you that if I didn’t want to talk about something, I would tell you to move on.”

She narrowed her gaze. “So, is talking about your father off-limits?”

“If I say next, you can assume it’s off-limits.”

“You’re so condescending sometimes.”

“You asked. I answered. Deal with it.” I was in a foul mood from the mention of my father, but I wasn’t about to say that.

Everyone was always curious. As if everything I’d accomplished couldn’t have happened without a strong man leading me there.

Well, I was living proof that a strong-ass woman could lead you wherever you wanted to go.

My mother had done that.

She’d believed in me since the first day I’d told her that I was going to be a football player when I grew up. She supported me and showed up for me.

That was what people should be asking about.

“How does this work? We meet once a day? You torture me in a workout and then I get to ask three questions?”

“Correct.”

“Okay. What time tomorrow?” she asked, reaching up to tighten the elastic on her ponytail. Her face was free of makeup, and her skin shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the kitchen windows. Her shirt rose the slightest bit, a sliver of her toned stomach peeked out, and my dick hardened again. I was going to have to figure something out about that situation because my body had a physical reaction to this woman, which was not common for me.