Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

25. Sophie

Chapter 25

Sophie

R ight at six thirty, Jonah knocks on the door. It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen him, and I’m way more nervous than I should be. Did we talk all week? Yes. But only through text messages, and those were more along the lines of, “How was your day?” and “What did you and Vivi do today?” There were no deep and serious discussions. I’m not even sure I really got to know him more than I do.

Smoothing down the skirt to my dress, I open the door, and there he is.

I’m immediately hit with his clean and delicious smell, and I breathe in as his frame fills the doorway. His eyes find mine, and he smiles so big. It’s easy to see that it's genuine, and he’s happy to see me. With that smile, the butterflies in my stomach enthusiastically flap their wings like they’re waving. They’re happy to see him too.

It’s quite possible I’ll be in big trouble when it comes to this guy. Especially since he’s not part of the plan.

“Wow, you look beautiful,” he says, his eyes quickly dragging over the length of me before he steps forward, leans in, and kisses me on the cheek. His lips are warm, his cheek is soft, and my eyes fall shut at the sensation.

His smell intensifies to where I can now recognize notes of fabric softener, vanilla, and coconut. It’s the same smell from the beach and the perfect pheromone concoction to make me want to bury my face against his chest and breathe him in indefinitely.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I tell him, taking in his date attire of dark slacks and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

“I’m kind of having a moment,” he says almost quietly, his cheeks tinting red.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my eyes searching his hazel ones that are so unique and so pretty. There are flecks of gold and patches of green—so many colors I could never pick a favorite.

“This place. Your door.” He shakes his head. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to stop here and knock just to see if you still lived here.”

“I wish you would have,” I whisper, feeling a longing for the time lost that we could have had together.

Regret slips over his features, and I can’t have that, so I run my hand down his arm and take his hand.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” I smile up at him, and his gaze dips to my lips.

Does he want to kiss me?

God, I hope so.

Clearing his throat, he takes a step back and asks, “You all set?”

“Yep,” I tell him, moving out of the front door to lock it.

Slipping my hand into his, I lace our fingers together as we walk toward his SUV. For it being June, the evening is mild and not humid. I almost wonder if we’re going to be sitting outside?

“As far as date nights go, while there are a lot of places that I’d love to take you, there's only one place that means the most to me. You in?” he asks as he opens my door.

“Of course. Now you have me even more excited.”

He winks as he closes the door and makes his way around to the driver’s side. That one little movement takes my butterflies from flapping to somersaulting. He might have had a moment on the doorstep, but I’m kind of having one now. I’m about to go on a date with Jonah Dallmann. In a way, it doesn’t even feel like last weekend happened. This, now, feels foreign and brand new.

Slipping into the car, he turns it on and then shifts to look at me. His gaze is so open and so clear, the line of his jaw is smooth, and his skin is golden from the week in the sun. Add in the blond hair, wide shoulders, and impressive frame; he’s so striking that he could be a Nordic king. How good he looks should be illegal.

“Thank you,” he says, reaching over to again take my hand. His is so much larger than mine, and goose bumps race down my back as his thumb starts rubbing from the inside of my wrist down into my palm.

“For what?”

He blinks. “For saying yes to tonight.”

A smile stretches across my face. As if there’s anywhere else I’d be.

As he pulls away from the curb, a comfortable silence wraps around us as he drives, and we cross the bridge that leads to Davis Islands. We pass the shops and restaurants, make a few turns, and then pull up to a house and park on the street. It’s not a small house, but it’s not a large one either. The two-story white house almost looks Mediterranean with the clay pot roof, and I know instantly it has to be his house.

He lets out a sigh as he turns off the engine and faces me.

“I thought about taking you somewhere trendy or elegant, fun, I don’t know just different, but the thing is, this is my life now. Vivi is my life. We spend a lot of time at home, and I thought I would bring you here so you can see what our life looks like and let me cook you dinner. She’s out with Tyler at the moment, so it’ll be just us, but he’ll bring her back later. Then maybe the three of us can walk a few streets over so she can show you her favorite ice cream place. I know this isn’t the most romantic, but you’ll be able to decide sooner rather than later if this is something that you want. If we are something that you want.”

Instead of answering, I just watch him for a few moments. That comfortable silence from just a few moments ago turns heavy. One of his hands holds the wheel, and I hear the squeak of the leather as he tightens his grip. His lips purse together in a straight line, and he breathes in slowly through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He’s nervous, and I find it endearing because I’m nervous too. It makes sense that he would bring me here, and it also makes sense that he’s stating his intentions or concerns early. I appreciate that he’s not here to play games, but it goes both ways.

“How do you know that I’m what you want?” I ask, feeling a little uneasy.

He hesitates and tilts his head. “I guess I’m trying to figure that out too.”

“Okay. Then I’m glad you brought me here.” I smile at him, and he gives me a small smile back.

Getting out of the car, he meets me as I slide out. While we only live a few miles away from each other, the air here somehow feels and smells different. Yes, we’re surrounded by water, and maybe that’s it, but as we walk up the sidewalk and I glance around at the other houses of his neighbors, it’s the smell of grass, salt, the oak trees, and summer that makes this feel like home.

A home.

I don’t know what I expected about where Jonah lived. Maybe part of me still occupies the mindset of guys his age having bachelor pads, but this is anything but.

With his hand on my lower back, we walk inside together, and internally, I stutter as I need to take a moment. Jonah is years younger than me, yet standing here in his foyer, it feels the other way around. This is adulting. This is at a whole different level than I am, and I feel a mixture of pride for him and, in a way, inadequacy. At the present, my life is far from ever looking like this. I’m the walking stereotype of medical school loans and secondhand furniture. This house is straight out of a Restoration Hardware magazine.

“Jonah, your home is beautiful,” I tell him, as I basically do a three-sixty to take it all in.

He swallows, looks around to maybe see what I see, and then looks over at me. “Thank you. I can’t take all of the credit, though. I had some help.”

He might have had some help, but this isn’t a showroom. It’s a home. There are shoe baskets by the door, dog toys on the floor, and a small table I can see in the living room next to the kitchen for artwork. Yes, the furniture, lighting, and decor are stunning, but it’s more than that.

“Camille does have an amazing eye, doesn’t she?” I say to him, trying not to make him feel uncomfortable.

He tosses his keys into a bowl on the console by the door. “I basically gave her an unlimited budget, and this is what she came up with.”

The home is made up of warm tones. Beiges, different shades of green and wood, black wrought-iron accents for the light fixtures and the stair railing, and light. The home is bright and airy.

“Well, she also knows you well enough to know what you like and what you don’t like. So although she may have pulled it all together, it’s still you. Where did you live when we first met?”

“In a condo downtown. There’s one building where a lot of the team lives. Makes it easy for commuting to the facility.”

“I think that is more of what I expected even though I knew you lived on Davis Islands from what Camille told me. This is just so much more.”

“I needed to give Vivi a home. This house was available and move-in ready, so I bought it. I didn’t want Vivi to have to go from her house, to the condo, and then another house. She was already dealing with so much.”

I turn to face him. “You’re a good man. I hope you know that.”

He shrugs but looks relieved at my quick assessment.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” he asks, changing the subject and moving toward the kitchen. In this house, the kitchen, dining, and living room is one great room. The furniture is laid out in a way that it all feels separate, yet the whole space is open.

“Yes, I’d love one,” I tell him as I walk around the living room and look at the pictures. There are a lot of his brother, his sister-in-law, and Vivi together. My heart aches at the thoughtfulness of him keeping them out so she can see them and remember her parents. I know firsthand how memories fade, except for the ones in the photos.

It’s then my gaze travels over the wall of windows leading to a back porch and the backyard.

“You have a pool.” I’m surprised, but I don’t know why. It seems like most people in Florida have a pool.

“Yes, and I’m glad,” he says as he pops a cork and pours us each a glass. “Vivi loves to swim. The only thing it’s missing is a hot tub. I’ve contemplated buying one and building a small deck for it.”

He also has a large wooden playground.

So . . . domestic.

So . . . perfect.

He then surprises me even more by pulling a small charcuterie board out of the refrigerator he’s wrapped in plastic to keep fresh. He places it on the large island, and I move to join him.

“So fancy.” I smile, and he blushes a little, sliding my glass over to me.

“Vivi wanted to help. She picked out these flowers for you too, so you’ll have to take them home with you tonight.”

“She’s so sweet. She could have been here tonight with us. I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t want her around.”

“I don’t think that. I just wanted to spend time with you. Alone. I want to get to know you better, and sometimes kids can be a truth buffer. The conversation stays light because of the little ears.”

“I understand completely. We actually get sensitivity training on how to talk to the parents and how to talk to our tiny patients.”

“I should say that surprises me, but after the past two years, it doesn’t.”

Picking up the glass of wine, I take a sip and am met with a burst of flavors.

“Mmm, this is good.”

“Thanks. Camden on the team recommended it. He’s more savvy when it comes to things like wine.” Jonah picks up his glass, and his brows rise as he swallows, agreeing with me.

“Well, tell him he has good taste.”

He smiles. “Nah, that will just make his head bigger than it already is. You should have seen the look on his face when I asked for a suggestion in the first place.” He loves talking about his friends. To be in the situation he found himself in and to be surrounded by so much support. I’m happy he has his teammates. He’s lucky. “So tell me, what have you been up to for say . . . ever?” he asks, grabbing a piece of cheese and tossing it into his mouth.

I laugh. “Well, the past twenty-seven years of it, I have been in school.”

He grimaces, and this makes me laugh even more.

“Did you always know that you wanted to be a doctor?”

“Yes.” I then tell him the story that sealed my fate. “What about you? Have you always wanted to play football?”

“I have. My dad left us when we were fairly young, so John kind of filled that role. He was older, and I always thought he was the coolest. He loved football, so of course I did too, and this was a way for me to spend time with him. He would have been happy for me no matter what I ended up doing in life, but once football became my dream, it became his too. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.”

“I feel that way about my dad too.”

“You mentioned he’s in Minnesota?”

“Yep, Minneapolis.”

“You never wanted to move back there to be with him?”

This would be the time to tell him about the interview, to let him know that it is a real possibility, but I can’t find the words for some reason. As the expression goes, “Don’t borrow tomorrow’s troubles today,” and that’s what this is. All I know for sure is that I have an interview. Nothing more. I guess when I have something to discuss with him, we’ll do it then, but for now, I just want to be here with him.

“That was always the plan.”

“And it’s not now?” he asks, tilting his head a little to study me.

I think about how to best answer this.

“I certainly haven’t closed that door. My dad, he’s my family. But for now, I’m working here and living here.”

His eyes drop down to the food as he thinks about this, and then he nods his head at whatever conclusion he comes to.

“I understand that. Football isn’t forever. My plan was always to find my way back to Boston to be with John and Ashley.”

Which makes me wonder, if I did end up back in Minneapolis, and we became a more permanent thing, would he eventually come with me?

“Boston is cold.” I frown at him, just thinking about how many times we’d watch the news and hear about those frigid nor’easters.

He laughs. “As if Minnesota isn’t.”

“True, but I don’t think it’s the same. Our Midwestern snow is different from your violent windy snow.” I pick up a grape and plop it into my mouth.

“Living in the South, I can say I’ve gotten used to not being in snow.”

“That makes two of us. Speaking of, I know it’s last minute, but I’m flying home next weekend to visit with my dad,” I tell him, feeling really nervous for no reason. Well, maybe I have a reason. As much as I’m trying to convince myself that I’m living in the moment, a tiny part of me feels guilty. I firmly stand in the camp that lying by omission is still lying. I just can’t think about that right now.

“Oh, really?” he asks, looking at me in a way that makes me feel like he’s looking through me.

“A flight opportunity popped up, so I’m going. It’s just an overnight trip, but I haven’t seen him since Christmas.” And it did just pop up, all of this is true.

“Well, that’s good. Are you excited?”

My stomach dips. I should be excited, but instead, I’m feeling kind of numb toward it. “I am.” After all, that is the correct answer to give him.

“Do you want a ride to the airport? I can take you,” he offers because he’s a thoughtful guy like that.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind driving, but thank you.”

“If you change your mind, just let me know.”

Time passes as we talk, snack, and laugh. We’ve found ourselves sitting on the barstools at the island, with the platter between us, and he’s right—a night for just the two of us was needed. At least for a few hours. Eventually, he pulls a casserole dish covered in foil from the refrigerator and places it in the oven. It’s nice to watch him move around his kitchen and be in his space. How many meals has he cooked here? How many meals has he burned?

“What are we having?” I ask, smiling, dropping my shoes to the floor to get more comfortable.

“Lasagna,” he says, proud of himself.

“And you made it yourself?”

He shrugs. “I mean, I didn’t make the noodles or anything, but I did the rest. I’ve gotten pretty good at making one-pot dishes and casseroles. Easy to heat after school and easy to clean.”

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it. I’m one person, so food is simple. If I make anything like this, I just portion it out for multiple meals. How often do you eat dinner together?”

“Pretty much every night unless I’m on the road. Tyler is usually here too. He eats more food than I do, so we never have any leftovers.”

I met Tyler briefly at the recital, but other than that, I don’t know him.

“What does Vivi do when you’re on the road?”

“One of the coaches has a daughter in college here. During the season, she picks her up after school, takes her to dance, that kind of stuff, and then she sleeps over or she takes her to Camille’s.”

“She’s worked for you for two years now?”

“Yeah. I pay her well. But I only have one more year with her, then she’ll graduate and move on to something else.”

“Do you ever worry about being let go or traded to another team?”

“Every day. I’ve already been traded once, so I know what it feels like, but my contract has a few restrictions. Vivi and I have talked about it several times. If it does happen, I don’t want it to be a shock to her. But we’ll see where I’m at in my career at that point. Who knows, maybe I’ll just retire.”

“Where do you see yourself living after you retire?”

“Honestly, we haven’t gotten that far. We were in survival mode the first year, and then this past year, it’s been about settling in and healing.” He looks away from me and toward the living room. “It’s been hard for Vivi.”

“That makes me sad,” I tell him, feeling the lingering grief on him that sometimes accompanies conversations about his brother.

He runs his hand through his hair, lets out a deep sigh, then looks at me again. He’s so handsome.

“It’s okay. She’s had a lot more good days than bad, and slowly, I’ve been seeing her old self peek out, so we’re getting there.”

“Anything I can do?” I lean over and place my hand on his thigh.

“Nope. Just be you.” He gives me a lopsided smile and then covers my hand with his.