with that little factoid. Finn didn’t look like he’d go anywhere near a railing ever again. Score one for him. “C’mon.” He tipped his head in the direction they were heading. “Let’s catch some crickets for Carl.”
Possible tongue contamination with bird poop forgotten, Finn dropped his shirt, and they continued on. Crossing the road to the park was an unusual experience. Normally, if he wanted to cross a road, Cole would look to the left and right and just cross the damn road. Oftentimes not even at a designated crossing.
But today was different.
Today, he was in charge of a four-year-old kid who did not belong to him, and he felt the weight of responsibility and Jane’s expectations heavily on his shoulders. And the thought Finn might take it upon himself to just randomly bolt across the road brought him out in a cold sweat, so he insisted that Finn take his hand as they crossed at Credence’s only set of traffic lights.
They spent a good hour chasing around the park after grasshoppers and other live bugs Finn thought Carl might find desirable. The kid was in his element. Cole was obviously slower, but he could tell the exercise was good for his leg. It ached a little, but then, this was the first exercise he’d done in over a week, so that was to be expected.
After stopping under a shady tree for a bite to eat and a drink of water, they left the bug catcher and the backpack and kicked the ball around for another hour. It wasn’t a rugby ball, but there wasn’t that much difference between an American football and a rugby ball, and it wasn’t like Cole was kicking to his usual standard, anyway.
But Cole was enjoying himself too much to dwell on how far his game had deteriorated. Finn was impressed in the way only a small child could be every time Cole kicked the ball, no matter the comparatively paltry distance. He was just happy to chase after it and kick it back with all his four-year-old enthusiasm.
Frankly, being able to have a kick around with no pressure, with no cameras poking through fences, no one assessing his ability or fitness or judging him on his performance, was liberating. A professional athlete was always under scrutiny, an injured one even more so. Cole just hadn’t realized the kind of mental toll that had taken.
But playing with Finn was none of those things. It was just…fun. What Finn lacked in sporting finesse, he made up for in enthusiasm, and that was infectious. Watching a kid getting so much out of a simple game of kick made Cole happier than he’d been in a long time.
“You’re a natural.”
Cole turned to find the cop from the bar that first night approaching. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could detect a slight limp. “I’ve been playing professionally for twelve years. I should be.”
Arlo tipped his chin at Finn, who was tearing after a ball Cole had just kicked. “I mean with the boy.”
Laughing, Cole wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. “I don’t know about that. Kids and balls just go together, don’t they?”
“Yeah,” Arlo agreed.
“You ever play?” Cole asked.
“In high school. Wasn’t up to Wade’s standard, though.”
Cole laughed again. “Neither was I.” He’d enjoyed his time at the Broncos, and he’d learned a lot, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out he was never going to make the cut for gridiron.
They watched as Finn raced up to them, sweaty and red-faced but with a grin a mile wide. “Hey, Officer Pike,” he said, pulling to a halt in front of them, puffing a little. “You want to kick the ball?”
“How about I throw it to you?” Arlo suggested. Finn nodded enthusiastically, and Arlo shooed him backwards. “Run back a bit, over near that tree.” The police officer pointed to a tree, and Finn ran his little legs off to get there, his hat, which was secured by an elastic strap under his chin, blowing off and hanging off the back of his neck.
“You ready?”
Finn, obviously well-trained in hat wearing, pulled it back on his head and yelled, “Throw it, throw it!” He shifted excitedly from foot to foot.
Arlo grinned, stepping back onto his left foot and launching the ball in the air to Finn, who kept his eye on it, his arms held far too wide to catch anything.
“You still got it, I see,” Cole murmured. The man hadn’t even tried, and it