Tangled with the Tight End (Evergreen Lake: Under the Mistletoe)

Chapter 11

eleven

GAbrIEL

After laying Gino down for his nap, I ring my agent, Hudson Tate, hoping to catch him before Thanksgiving break, and before my parents arrive in town. I’m excited to see them but also not looking forward to the grilling over Sloane and I’s relationship.

“What’s up?” My agent’s voice greets me warmly and pushes away the thoughts of twenty questions.

“Good. Here in Evergreen Lake visiting my brother and his wife.” And Norah. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back just in time. Norah isn’t part of the equation, and I can’t afford for her to be.

“Sounds like a beautiful place.”

“It is.” I pause.

I’m not speaking in platitudes. Evergreen Lake is beautiful, and the locals are welcoming. I see why my brother visited and decided to stay once his football career was over. The view from the mountain of the town below is breathtaking, and the small-town vibe is like stepping into a painting and living in a place where violence and crime don’t exist.

But I’m not Marco. I’m not giving up my career for a woman. Granted, he never loved football with the same passion I did, but to retire instead of seeking out that last contract? Foolish.

“Great news.” A small doe darts across the road below the lodge. Its brown fur glows in the bright sunshine. Has Norah already delivered goods to the shop? Gino had a fitful sleep, so by the time he was up, and I finished my workout, it was too late to try and catch her.

Maybe I should call her and see what she’s doing today? We could walk to Read Between the Wines again or stroll to the lake. Gino would enjoy that. What’s wrong with me? I’m not her responsibility to entertain.

“The team looked at your last doctor’s visit report and said it’s time for you to come in and visit with the team’s doctors. They didn’t say it, but I think you’ll be back on the field by the middle of December. Maybe even as quickly as next week.”

Before Christmas? Next week? My stomach clenches as I rake my hand through my hair. When did I start envisioning spending Christmas here and not back in Kansas City with the team? My goal from the second my injury occurred was to get back on the field as soon as possible. If not sooner.

“That’s great news.” Shit. What am I going to do with Gino? Mom and Dad are taking a cruise Sunday afternoon, so they can’t follow me back. My gaze lands on my son, who’s peacefully sleeping on the sofa. I was a selfish jackass not to demand Sloane move with me. She probably would’ve still cheated on me, but I’d have been able to watch Gino grow.

“Yes, it is. I need you there on Monday morning at 9 o’clock for the visit. The doctor will look you over, and you’ll receive word on your return date.’

Sweat pops on my back as I pace in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, turn, and march back to the Christmas tree. I have no one to watch Gino when we move back, and he’s been tied up in knots about the Christmas festival that starts on the 6 th . He can’t wait to see Santa, skate on the pond that Norah took us to, and fully expects presents to be piled up under this tree on Christmas morning.

Hell, I don’t have anywhere for him to go on Monday when I fly into Kansas City for the day. Fuck. It’s not that I want Sloane around, but if she lived in the city, it would be easier to co-parent. Remember, she skipped town and hasn’t been in touch. She doesn’t appear all that into co-parenting.

“I’ll be there.” What in the fuck am I supposed to do with a 3-year-old when I’m back with the team. Even during home games, we stay in a hotel the day before to avoid the distractions of friends and family so we can focus solely on our upcoming opponent.

I shove my cell phone into my pocket. Things are about to get complicated.

A knock at the door gives me a momentary reprieve from figuring out what in the hell I’ve gotten myself into. Gino stirs in his sleep, slinging his arm over his face, and my heart skids to a stop.

I’ve woken up in that same position more times than I can count. My son. He’s my son, and I’ll figure it out. There are nanny companies, who only hire professionals and lots of the guys have kids. I’m not one man on an island. I straighten my shoulders and track to the door as the knocks continue. I’ve got this.

When I swing the door open, I’m greeted by my parents, who weren’t due for another couple of hours.

“Hey, Son.” My dad beams and encircles me in a bear hug.

“Hey, Pop.” I clap his back and take in the familiar scent of his aftershave. The same one he’s used for as long as I can remember.

Tears fill my mom’s eyes as she clutches her chest. “It’s so good to see you.”

I let go of my dad and envelope my mom to my chest. She’s right. It’s good to see them. For a moment, I close my eyes and drift back ten years to when I still saw them all the time. I was prepping for college graduation, and Marco was following two years behind.

Then I was drafted to Chicago, and they all stayed in Texas. I was the oldest, and he was the baby. I was supposed to know what I was doing. I had no idea.

I step back, and she clutches my face. “You’re so freaking handsome. How did you become so beautiful? How are you?”

The couple staying in the next suite steps outside, and gawks at us. “Let’s go inside.”

“Yes. Yes.” She hastily follows my father, who’s carrying their luggage into the main room. Once they’re inside, I snap the door shut.

“Oh….” My mom places a hand over her mouth and sets a familiar white bag with a black and hot pink logo beside her feet. They must have stopped at the shop downstairs. “This place is gorgeous.” Her eyes dance as she surveys the room. “We’ve always stayed at the Evergreen Lake Inn when we were in town to see Marco and the baby.”

“This place is nice.” My dad nods. “Good quality construction to last through the years. And they’ve done a good job of renovations. Keeping the old with the new isn’t easy.” You can take the land developer out of Texas, but you can’t force him to forget everything he knows.

My mom spins on her heel to face me. As usual, she’s well-dressed in pants and a silk top. Not that she dresses for fashion over comfort. She’d rather breathe than be unable to sit down. “What do you think of the town?”

“It’s nice. I can’t complain about the scenery, and everyone is pleasant in town. The shops are good quality.” Lord, I sound like my dad.

My mom arches an eyebrow as she retrieves the bag. “Have you been to Lips & Hips?”

“Yes.” The muscles in my jaw tighten. This was not the twenty questions I expected. I anticipated they’d push for reconciliation between Sloane and me, not that they adored her or anything, but because of Gino and tradition–the Roman Catholic tradition of no divorce.

My parents are still married, and both sets of grandparents stayed true to each other through all sorts of difficulties. Although my grandmother has remarried, that didn’t happen until years after my grandfather passed. Ranch life in Texas isn’t easy. Nor is moving from Italy to the United States.

Gino sets up on the sofa cushions, and his eyes widen. “G-ma?”

“It sounds like you’ve met Norah.” My mom rushes over to hug and kiss Gino, who laughs and latches his arms around her neck.

Once they’ve both done fawning over him, Gino asks to see inside the bag.

“What do you think of Norah?” I glare at my mom as she hands Gino a cookie and gives him the twenty questions I was expecting.

“She great. She took us to a skate pond, a toy store, and books. She nice.”

“Good.” She ruffles Gino’s hair and looks up expectantly.

“Mom, don’t get any ideas.”

She raises her hands in question. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” I stomp to the adjoining kitchen and grab a beer from the refrigerator. When I turn around, my dad is standing on the threshold with a frown.

“You aren’t thinking about getting back with Sloane, are you?” He keeps his voice low as my mom entertains Gino.

“No.” I twist the cap off and take a large swig of the beer.

As it drains down my throat, I groan and set it on the table. Drinking my problems away is what got me into this mess in the first place.

“Good. She was never the right woman for you.” He raises his hands in defense. “Not that we don’t love Gino, we do. He’s an amazing kid. But Sloane was selfish and high maintenance. She wanted the fame of being a football star’s wife and didn’t care which football star it was.”

“Yes, I know.” Even though hearing him say it makes me sick. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so supportive of the divorce.”

“Son, we might be stanch Catholics, but we aren’t so steeped in tradition that we want you to be miserable. It’s not healthy for you or Gino.” He marches into the room and clasps my shoulder. “We’re proud of you for working so hard on your career. For doing what you thought was right by Sloane and for stepping in and raising Gino on your own.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

“But it’s time for you to find a nice girl. A wholesome girl with good morals. A woman who loves children. Someone like Norah.”

I cringe. Norah would hate to hear my parents pushing us to get together. We’ve already explained why it’s impossible to Marco and Eden. “I don’t need to find someone to be Gino’s mom.”

Even if Norah would make a wonderful mom. She instantly took to Gino, and he adores her.

Just because it’s convenient doesn’t make it something we want. She wants Evergreen Lake. I want…. Fuck if I know what I want. Would I say no if she threw herself at me, worshipped me, and begged to fly back to Kansas City with me?

Fuck. Get your head out of the clouds.

“No, Son, you need someone like Norah for you. Someone who wants you for you and not the number on your shirt or the number in your bank account. Someone kind and sweet.”

I bite back a chuckle. Norah is kind and sweet, but it’s underneath a lot of layers of snark, at least around me. But what he’s saying holds more appeal than I dare to admit. Norah would be the perfect wife and mother. Except I’m not in the running for perfect husband material.