Page 26

Wild

The neighborhood suits her. The second we step out, there are kids and grandmas eager to take Jackie off her hands. Mrs. Izaacs waves from her front porch, and the joyous laughter from the kids follows us as we start our walk.

Evie points out the 'important' landmarks: a tiny diner, a pastry shop, and a pizza parlor. "The only thing missing is a daycare center."

I stop to take in the street on both sides. "I can see it. Thinking of opening yours?"

"The thought just struck me, that's all."

We talk about the mundane. She tells me about the problems of having your own daycare center versus working for a good one. She likes her job because she gets to work with kids. Owners don't get that because they sacrifice time with kids for more administrative duties. We play a 'guess the name'of our godchild. I tell her about my fears for this contract and coming retirement. I don't want to hang around the league as an analyst like some former players.

You would think former players would make great analysts. Not so. Most of us never took school seriously, so we find it hard to express basketball talk in a language the average fan will understand.

I've given the sport most of me. When I hang it up, then I've hung it up. But what do you do with all that time?

"You work well with your hands,"she says.

"I love it."I slant a look at her. "I'm thinking carpentry, but I fear you won't look at me the same."

"Me?"

"Going from basketball superstar to small carpenter doesn't sound attractive."

I'm playing it off as a joke, but Evie doesn't even crack a smile. She takes my hand and squeezes. "I have complete confidence you will do great at it."

There's a basketball-sized lump in my throat. I return her squeeze with caution when I notice the shine of mischief in the depth of her eyes. "And?"

"And if you fail—and I'm not saying you will—I can always hire you as a gardener."And she takes off.

I miss this. I miss hanging out with Evie. No wonder she's been adamant about not crossing the line. We have something good. Like this. Right now. But I still want her kisses and more. Do I have to sacrifice one for the other, or is there a possibility of having both?

Closing the distance between us and loving the shine in her eyes, the soft, sweet bow of her lips only increases the echo of more, more and more in my head.

I grab her hand and point to a house and the porch steps. Itdoesn'tlook like anyone is home.

"I need to tell you something."

Evie shakes her head. I see the panic in her eyes. "Maybe you don't. You don't owe me anything."

"Idon't,"I agree. "But it's something you need to know."

She gives an exaggerated shudder.

Unable to resist, I thumb her cheek. "You can take it."

"And how would you know that?"

"It was a big deal once, but no longer."

With a murmured okay, Evie pulls her knees to her chest and gives me her complete attention. I grin, loving her eyes on me.

She rolls her eyes. "Talk unless you need a microphone."

I don't lose my smile when I say, "My father was physically abusive to my mother."

Evie's face goes white. I take her hand, so she knows I'm better than okay.

"The incident that sent her running away from home. I was there. And I couldn't protect her."

I keep my eyes on her horrified ones, not giving my mind a chance to go there. To the past. My father is gone. My mother is gone. I miss her sometimes, but I respect her decision to leave and never return. We all do.

"You couldn't protect her?"

My hands go wet with nervous sweat. I nod. "I just stood there and did nothing."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve."

Now, as I watch this woman who means so much to me process all that I am, all that I have done, and the essence of me, I feel vulnerable, naked. But I want her to see me. I need her to get all the facts and make her decision.

Hopefully, it's a positive one, but yeah.

What I don't expect is Evie throwing her arms around me. My breath stutters at the strength of her hold. She doesn't say a word. She just holds on tight.

I want to rub her back, to return a little of the comfort she's giving me, but I'm determined to wait, to have her come to me.

"That's why I'm not comfortable with commitment. I will always wonder if I deserve it, or if I can protect it."

Her hold tightens.

"Not because I'm not the marrying kind,"I tease past the boulder lodged in my throat.

Her hands fall away. My heart aches when I see the tears trailing down her cheeks like diamonds. It wasn't my intention to make her cry.

Evie makes a face. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's—"

"I was wrong,"she says firmly. "I'm sorry."

"The fans blaming you for the championship loss and the stalking incident after, must have been so hard,"she whispers.

"I felt like I failed them,"I admit.

It's not unusual to hear angry, disappointed fans hurl insults at players. But mine weren't just insults. I got a stalker sending threatening messages about a lost bet following our loss.

And I was just nineteen.

She chews her lower lip so hard I'm thinking of ways to mount a rescue effort. Then, her eyes cut to me. "You're the most loving, protective man I know. You've protected me all my life. If I'm hesitating about...it has nothing to do with your ability to protect—not that I need protection. I'm twenty plus six years old."

"I know,"I say pointedly. Then, "Twenty plus six?"

"Twenty plus six."

“ It ’ s from teaching how to count together.” She cocks her head, smiling impishly.

I quirk an eyebrow. "What?"

"You gave me Jackie,"she says softly. "I see you when you hold her. I've seen you travel daily to be there for your siblings. And Charlie. And..."

"And what?"

She lowers her lashes. How are they so long?

"You'vebeen somewhat committed to me for eighteen years? I guess?"

There's a question in her eyes. Is she overreaching? Do I agree with what she just said? "Yes."

Oh, yes.

When we return to the house, Jackie is on Mrs. Izaacs lap. But she comes running and barking when she hears Evie's voice. Mrs. Izaacs comes down her porch stairs, smiling like a proud parent.

Evie scoops Jackie into her arms and starts making 'you miss me'noises. And my brain goes blank. "Can you let her use her legs for like two seconds?"

"So jealous." She teases. And sticks her tongue out at me.

I'm watching her walk away when Mrs. Izaacs comes close. "You look happy."

I grin. "I am happy."

She laughs. "Good, good. Don't let that one get away."

"I won't."

"Or I will convince my grandson to move back in with us."

"And I will sic Jackie on you."

As far as threats go, I've just gone zero for five on the scoreboard, and Mrs. Izaacs knows it. "That dog likes everyone."

"Then let your grandson know she's taken. Big time."

She pats my arm. "I will be sure to let him know. Big time."