“Sure,” I said, feeling the weight of Cameron’s gaze on the side of my head.
“That’s perfect,” María answered. “That way we can exchange surprises today. It’ll be like… Christmas. But in fall. Oh, by the way, are you coming to the fall fest? Will your foot be okay? We can go apple picking, or pumpkin bowling, or even sign up for the haunted corn maze race.” María was beaming, vibrating with so much excitement that it was impossible for me to do anything but nod. “Awesome!” She returned her attention to the box. “Let’s exchange surprises now then.”
“María,” Cameron warned. “What did we talk about earlier today?”
But María had never been intimidated by this stoic and secretly gentle man, so she went ahead and said, “I know you said it wasn’t ready, but I think Miss Adalyn deserves her surprise now. She’s been in pain, and surprises always cheer me up when I’m sick or sad. Plus, she brought gifts for the team, and we don’t have a welcome party for her like you promised we would when she returned.” The nine-year-old shot Cameron a hard look. “You’re being a grumpy grump again, Coach Cam.”
Cameron sighed.
I gaped at the kid. “Hey, you called him Coach Cam.” María rolled her eyes. “Although you also called him a grumpy grump,” I teased, looking at Cameron. He rolled his eyes. “Which I’m not against.”
“Yeah, because Coach was being a total grump at practice all of last week, even on Saturday, when we won. And he worked so hard at the surprise, too. Even when Dad told him about a hundred times that he didn’t need to help.” She shook her head, and I shook mine in confusion, too. “Maybe it’s the curmudgeons on his b—”
“María,” Tony blurted out. “Not that again, Jesus. Just tell Miss Adalyn about the shed already.”
Cameron grunted.
I frowned. “The shed?”
“Fiiiiiine,” María stretched out the word. “Coach Cam had my dad and brother redo the shed into an office. For you. It’s tiny but Coach helped and he was very proud before you got here. It will look super cute, I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Adalyn
The Green Warriors won a second time.
Cameron said it was because of the new uniforms. The girls had absolutely loved them, because, as María had pointed out, they slayed. They really did slay. The shirts were charcoal black and mint green, with every player’s name and number printed in pastel pink on the back, and the Miami Flames logo on the front. I’d ordered shorts and socks in green and black, so the girls could pick. And I’d gone as far as getting a skort that resembled a tutu for Chelsea. It hadn’t been easy to find but she’d been so excited and shocked that I thought she’d stopped breathing for a second. Even Diane had been touched. But I wasn’t responsible for the win. The girls were. They’d played a good game. And that wasn’t on me.
It was all because of Cameron.
Cameron, who at yesterday’s game had worn the matching tracksuit I’d ordered for him. And Cameron, who I was currently avoiding.
He’d built me an office. So I wouldn’t need to sit on the bleachers. He’d paid for it out of his own pocket, and worked on it with Robbie, in secret. So while I was on his couch, plopped there like some kind of… wounded damsel, he’d been sweating building shelves. María had spat out all the details.
So, for the last few days, ever since the office reveal, I’d been a little angry. At myself, not him, because that had been the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone had done for me. Ever. The reason I was avoiding Cameron was because I couldn’t, for the life of me, think clearly when he came close. I melted away and all I could think of was that office. The scones he’d brought me this morning. The way his hand fell on my thigh. The beard he was so keen on keeping neat and trimmed. The urge to touch it, and him, again.
Ugh.
With a sigh, I scanned the stands before me, hoping—needing—to distract myself with the fall fest. There was an empty stage—which I hoped didn’t imply another boogie night—a few food stands, a crafts and arts booth… Josie’s Joint.
I walked up to Josie’s coffee stand and blinked at the colorful display in front of me. There were pumpkins at the foot of the booth, red apples hanging from strings, tiny bales of hay decorating the bottom and the roof. There was even what looked like a… scarecrow. Female, judging by the braids, thick lashes, rosy cheeks, and the sign hanging from her neck: CARVE THE PATRIARCHY, ONE PUMPKIN AT A TIME.