Page 31

GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS

Luke

Pulling up to the Redwoods’ practice facility just outside of San Francisco is a surreal experience.

It was only two seasons ago that I was still here as part of the team, still the franchise quarterback—if only in name, since my injury kept me on the sideline—but it feels like a lifetime ago.

I’m a completely different person than I was when I was Luke Cannon, Quarterback of the San Francisco Redwoods.

And while I no longer believe that I am here to be ripped a new asshole for being…

well…an asshole…during my last season, I’m still not sure why James has been so adamant about meeting with me, let alone meeting here.

Nerves flutter in my stomach as the SUV pulls into the underground garage.

I wish Dean was here with me. He’s so good at being the calm to my storm when I’m on the verge of losing my shit.

But part of me is glad he stayed back in the city, because holy fucking hell, that photoshoot was hot.

Spending an hour wrapped around my husband’s naked body, feeling his dick brushing up against mine, watching his grey eyes go wide and dark while hovering my lips just above his was an insane kind of sensory overload that I didn’t know how to handle.

I had to keep reminding myself that it was fake, that Dean is just a good model who knows how to give the camera what it wants.

There’s no guarantee that, if he had agreed to accompany me this afternoon, I wouldn’t have dropped to my knees in the backseat of this SUV and begged him to fuck my throat.

And those are the kinds of thoughts and impulses that I can’t act on, unless I want this whole marriage to blow up in my face.

When the driver pulls up to the tunnel that leads out to the practice field, I try to give her a tip for the service.

She refuses, letting me know she was paid handsomely by James when he arranged the trip, and she’d be here waiting when I was ready to go back to the city.

I thank her, and then head into the tunnel, my head swirling with conflicting emotions .

Nostalgia, dread, curiosity, and that exhilarating feeling I used to get when I’d hear the roar of a crowd on game day all battle for dominance in my mind.

But when I walk out onto the field, I’m immediately jumped by two blonde-pig-tailed tiny humans dressed in Redwoods red and gold, and all those conflicting emotions are replaced with one that’s more overwhelming than the rest—pure, unbridled joy.

“Uncle Lukey!” Lemmie and Mellie squeal as they squeeze my calves, each of them standing on one of my shoes and hugging me tight.

“Chickadees! What are you doing here? Did you steal Miss Kira’s car and drive here all by yourselves?

” I ask, running a hand over each of their heads.

I spot Kira on the sideline, sitting on a bench while Ollie scoots around on the turf in front of her.

Out on the field, the other kids from their group of friends chase each other around the fifty-yard line.

A group of guys that I vaguely recognize as the husbands of some of Kira’s girlfriends toss a football around in a circle with James and the Redwoods’ head coach, Giovanni Mancini.

James spots me at the end of the tunnel and nudges Giovanni, and they both come jogging over.

I give them an awkward wave, then turn my attention back to my girls .

“We came to surprise you! Are you surprised?” Lemmie squeals as she bounces on my sneaker.

“Yes, Lem, I am so surprised! I’m the luckiest uncle in the world to have nieces like you.”

“Mr. James said this is going to be your new job place! It’s so fun here, Uncle Lukey. We get to run around the big field, and there are hot dogs. We want to come to work with you every day!” Mellie says, just as James and Giovanni approach us.

“My…my new job place…” I say, carefully. Like I’m testing the weight of the words on my tongue. James claps me on the back, then crouches down to the girls’ level.

“We hope it’s going to be his new job place. Why don’t you ladies go play with the other kids? I’ll get to work on convincing your Uncle Lukey that this is the best place to work, alright?”

He offers up two fists for knocking, and Lem and Mel bump their tiny fists against his, the too-expensive gold bracelets Dean gifted them dangling from their wrists and catching the light of the sun. Then they sprint off towards the intense game of tag happening out on the field.

“My new job place,” I repeat the ridiculous sentence, trying to wrap my mind around its meaning.

I’m retired. Even if I wanted to come out of retirement, I couldn’t.

My knee is fucked. I can’t play professional ball, so how am I supposed to work here?

Does James want me on staff to repaint the turf and do the player’s laundry as a punishment for being a dick of epic proportions?

“Come on up to my office, Cannon. We want to talk to you about joining the offensive coaching staff,” Giovanni says, patting my shoulder. My eyes go wide, and I feel myself go slack-jawed.

“Join the coaching staff…” I mumble, because apparently I’ve lost the ability to form full sentences.

“Bet you wish you’d answered my calls a little sooner, huh?” James says with a patronizing smile and tilt of his head that I completely deserve.

An hour later, I leave the executive suites of the Redwoods’ facility with a job offer and the promise of a contract to be delivered via email, and there’s only one person I want to tell.

Luke

Dean! Holy shit. Dean. What are you doing? I’m all finished up here, your sister brought the kids down. Let’s meet up for dinner, I have so much to tell you.

Dean

Can it wait? I have a headache. Don’t really feel like putting on a happy face for the girls if that’s alright with you.

Luke

Damn, I’m sorry. It must’ve been all those essential oils in the tub earlier… ;)

Dean

Ha. Maybe.

Luke

No big deal. I’m still going to take the kids out to eat, though. Want me to bring you back something?

Dean

I’m good. See you later.

I pop open the basket on the air fryer and pull out the chicken tenders and french fries that I asked our server at the diner to toss into a doggie bag before we left.

Dean isn’t big on leftovers, but I know he’ll never turn down chicken and fries with honey mustard.

And even though he said he didn’t want any food, what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t bring his favorite meal back with me?

After Lemmie, Mellie, Ollie and I got back to the city, I took them to their favorite diner in Hayes Valley for dinner.

When we got home, Dean’s car was in the garage but the house was quiet.

I figured he was trying to sleep off his headache, so I handled bath and bedtime on my own.

The twins were bummed that Dean wasn’t around to play nail salon with them before bed, but I did my best to fill in, and I have the hot pink and lime green toenails to show for it.

I grab a grapefruit flavored sparkling water out of the refrigerator and take the plate of food I’ve reheated up the stairs. I hope Dean is awake so he can eat and I can tell him all about my meeting with James and Giovanni, and how surprisingly good it felt to be back in the facility.

If I’m being completely honest, I wouldn’t mind revisiting the whole bathtub scenario, either.

I was too busy driving and talking and watching the girls this afternoon to dwell, but I’d be lying if the image of Dean naked and wet beneath me didn’t have my dick twitching every time it crossed my mind.

It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing to address the sexual tension in the room.

But when I bump the door to our bedroom open with my hip, the room is empty.

The light is on, the blankets are untouched, and the door to the ensuite bathroom is wide open, showing off a dark and empty room.

My stomach drops, a tornado of worst-case scenarios storms through my brain, and I’m about two seconds away from panicking when I remember that this is a big house and there are a hundred other places Dean could be.

I already know he’s not in the kitchen or the living room.

He’s not in the backyard or the garage or either of the girl’s rooms. He could be in the basement, though I don’t know why he’d want to hang out with the random crap we keep stored down there.

I head back into the hallway in pursuit of finding him, and that’s when I see the crack of light underneath his bedroom door.

That’s…weird. Dean hasn’t spent a night in that room since he insisted that we share the night of the wedding. I don’t think he’s been in there much at all in the last few weeks. He has all but migrated his entire life into our bedroom, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be there now.

I lightly knock on the bedroom door, not wanting to startle him.

There’s no response, so I knock again. When he still doesn’t answer, I decide he must be asleep and that I should go in and check on him.

I crack the door, and Dean is lying there on the mattress in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.

He’s turned away from the door, head propped up in his hand while he reads something on the Kindle he has propped up on the nightstand.

His tan skin has an almost ethereal glow in the low light of the room.

I have to take a second to enjoy the view of all the muscles of his back that look like they were carved from marble and the way they dip below the waistband of his sweats.

Fuck, he is mouthwatering. I want to yank at the waistband of those sweatpants. I want to trace my tongue over his hips and work my way down…down…down…

Oh my god. I have to stop this. I can’t keep having these horny thoughts all the time. Maybe I’m just backed up. I can’t even remember the last time I got off, but I know it was well before we got married.