Coming Home to Seashell Harbor (Seashell Harbor #1) - Miranda Liasson Page 0,51

under a woodpile, and that cute little black one wasn’t getting along with their family’s cat.” She flicked her gaze up at him. “Are you avoiding me?”

A direct, unexpected shot. That’s how she was, no BS’ing. Plus, she still saw through him clearer than a plate-glass window. “Of course not.”

Her eye roll showed him that she wasn’t buying that. “Oh my gosh, you are avoiding me.”

He crossed his arms, hoping to appear calm and case-closed. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“It’s been two days since…that kiss. And you’ve gone radio silent. And you’re acting funny now.”

“I’m talking to the boys about hard work and persistence. And overseeing their workout. If we can ever get them into the gym.”

“Cardio’s important too.” She smiled, gesturing to the boys running around with the dogs. Suddenly their gazes locked and held in a way he absolutely did not want. His pulse kicked up and that same undeniable feeling hit him like always, regardless of how he tried to steel himself against it.

“Seriously,” she said after a bit, “that’s terrific you’re sharing your expertise. And being an inspiration.”

“Right.” His answer came out less than enthused. Jagger dropped the ball at his feet and Cam picked it up and tossed it far out into the field. The dog loped after it, full speed ahead. For such an odd-looking dog, he ran like a gazelle.

“So, what’s the worry?” she asked.

He shouldn’t have looked at her again. Because one look at her concerned expression and he was spilling the thoughts heavy on his mind. “Truth is, I feel a little like an imposter. Someone who can’t practice what I preach.” He immediately winced. He wasn’t one to talk about weaknesses—ever. Fake it till you make it was basically the mantra he’d lived by his entire life.

“It’s not like that,” she said, her eyes filling with compassion. Or pity. He wasn’t sure which, but he hated both. “You’re the most famous tight end in the country.”

“Was the most famous tight end.”

She frowned in protest. “You have tons of experience and expertise. Plus, you’re inspiring to anybody who dreams of getting out and making something of him- or herself.”

“I appreciate the pep talk but I’m the one who’s supposed to be giving it.” The boys were horsing around, the dogs getting all riled up and loving it. He wished he were out there, too, carefree and young, his whole future ahead of him.

Hadley was looking him over, assessing him. He understood she was trying to help and didn’t deserve his sarcasm. “Sorry.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t mean to sound snarky.”

“I’m not offended,” she said. “Maybe show them with actions, not words. I mean, kids respond better to showing not telling, you know?”

He nodded. “I get it.” But really, he didn’t. If only he could show. But his knee wouldn’t allow it. Ever again. Yet she seemed to actually believe he could be inspiring. But how, when he could barely stand here on this field that he loved without breaking into hives?

Despite his confusion, there was one thing he needed to set straight for her sake. “Listen, Hadley. The truth is, I have been avoiding you. I’m sorry about the other morning.”

“You’re sorry?” She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you better clarify what exactly you’re sorry about—the ceiling disaster or kissing me.”

That kiss was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. But how could he allow himself to get involved with her when he didn’t know who he was anymore? He needed that restaurant. It was the only thing now that would make him feel that he hadn’t failed. And he couldn’t let Hadley stand in the way of that.

He would never take the chance of hurting her again like he had back when he was young and stupid. She had enough on her hands with that snake Cooper, and she deserved better. And better just wasn’t him.

“Oh.” The deadpan quality of her voice showed him she was disappointed in him. And he deserved it. He’d acted no better than the dumb kid who’d broken up with her all those years ago.

“I mean,” he said, “we clearly have the same attraction between us but we’re older and wiser now. We don’t need to act on it.” His words sounded shallow. Like he was making excuses and being an idiot, which he was. But he had no choice. Acting on his desire for her would be a big mistake.

“Right,” she said quietly, frowning.

“It was a weak moment,” he

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