His eyes start to water, and my throat closes at the shocking sight. “I had no clue how I would handle being a father to a girl, and then I held her in my arms for the first time. She made it feel so easy. She needed nothing more than love, and I failed her.”
My own thoughts are running rampant. I tried to block all feelings for Maggie from my heart and mind this week, but now they’re back with a vengeance. “You hurt her pretty badly, Coach.”
His eyes shoot to mine, and he sighs with a shake of his head. “Between you and Zach, I can’t catch a break. I never would have thought to imagine that you two would find my girls and fall head over heels.”
I jump at his suggestion. “No, Coach, not me. Maggie and I aren’t…” I shake my head, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks.
He creases his brow and locks eyes with me. “Are you sure?”
I bark out a laugh. “Positive. Zach asked for a favor. Maggie needed a job, and Monica needed Maggie out of her hair. It all worked out, for me too. Maggie’s filling in at the kitchen until she finds the next best thing.”
I say nothing about the possibility that’s always been in the back of my mind about Maggie moving back to LA. The truth is, I want that less and less as the days go on.
Coach looks thoroughly confused. “Well, you fooled me. It sure sounds like you care about my girl. Looked like it too at the game last weekend.” A few beats of silence pass. “And if along the way, you figure out you do…” His gaze narrows in my direction.
“Yeah, I know, I know. If I hurt her, you’ll bury me beneath the bleachers.”
Coach chuckles and claps a hand on my back. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
26
Through the Trees
Desmond
After Coach left, I decided to stay at the gym and work out more of my frustration on the treadmill. Five miles later and with Maggie still on my mind, I went home, showered, and now I’m ready to face the big day ahead.
It’s a little past ten when I get to the kitchen. Maggie is already there, going over the wedding menu and pulling out the fresh ingredients available while jotting a list down of everything we need to pick up.
“Morning, sunshine,” I say while avoiding eye contact. I got a good look at her as soon as I opened the door, and it’s definitely a horrible idea to look at her again.
Maggie doesn’t have to try hard to look beautiful, and when she puts in the least amount of effort, she seems to look her best to me. Her hair is still wet from a shower, and it’s pinned up at the top of her head. She’s wearing a simple white tank top that cuts off above her belly, and light-blue baggy jeans that are shredded in so many places, I’m shocked the damn thing doesn’t fall apart. She’s wearing just enough makeup to mask whatever natural blemishes might be visible beneath, and my urge to know every single freckle and scar is unbearably strong.
After our heated kiss and the way she stormed home with me trailing her in my car the entire damn way, I wish I could give up the fantasies that take over my mind when it comes to her. But I’ve come to find out that’s simply impossible.
Maggie doesn’t return my greeting, and I don’t expect her to. She’s been ignoring me all week, refusing the meals I cook her as part of our bet, but then I’ll find that they disappear from the kitchen’s refrigerator later on. But communicating is part of the job, and I can’t go another entire day without a single exchange. I’m going crazy, and today is important—to the kitchen, to me, to Chloe and Gavin, and to all the wedding guests we’re about to feed. Besides all that, Maggie’s still my employee and tenant. The silence needs to end.
“I need to run to the market,” I say in an attempt to keep things normal and professional. When she doesn’t look up or say anything, I continue. “I’ve got some pasta dough in the refrigerator if you want to start flattening it and cutting up the fettuccine.”
Maggie sets her pen down, slides a sheet of paper across the island in my direction, and turns toward the refrigerator. For a second, I just stand there as