Page 34

MERIT

“There’s no way we can have that amount of food delivered in just two hours. I would have to completely shut down the kitchen for every other order.”

I just ordered fifteen-hundred dollars in pizza, pastas, and sandwiches. And that was even after using a coupon. In two hours, the house is going to be overrun with football players, their families, coaches, cheerleaders, and…well, everyone. When Holt kissed me goodbye, he tasked me with getting food. I don’t plan on failing.

“This food is for Holt Hill and his football team. They just won the State Championship today. They’re on the bus, driving back from the game, and they’re starving. Is there anything that can be done?”

I’ve resorted to name dropping.

Of course, it might backfire. What if this guy doesn’t watch football? He could be a fan of synchronized swimming, for all I know.

“Give me two-and-a-half hours,” he says.

I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet. “Thank you so much!”

I confirm the delivery address and slide Holt’s black American Express card in the back pocket of my jeans. I’ll put it back in the top drawer of his desk in just a minute. I need to change my shirt first because I spilled blue slushie on myself at the game.

I soak my shirt in stain remover and search the closet for something perfect. I settle on a bright green, off-the-shoulder sweater and a black tank top—because I refuse to wear strapless bras ever again. They were a staple with the outfits Edward made me wear. They’re not comfortable, and at least one boob always falls out. Staring at myself in the mirror, I drag the ponytail holder from my hair and pile it into a messy bun instead. I could stand to put on some more eye makeup or fresh lipstick. I reach for the eyeliner and then toss it back in the drawer.

I’m in too good of a mood to fiddle with more makeup.

I’m about to head back to the Big House to join the rest of Holt’s family when the reminder alarm on my phone buzzes.

Oh crap. I nearly forgot.

The other day I ran across this amazing woman on a craft website who has phenomenal handcrafted ornaments. They’re designed around kids’ sports and activities, and they have a nameplate where you can add a name personalization if you want. It’s something I could do with a glitter pen. I have no doubt they would sell like hot cakes at the store. It’s December 3 rd , so the Christmas frenzy is in full force. I know if Kyra puts them on the store’s social media pages, we’ll be sold out in no time. I reached out to her, inquiring about buying her whole stock, and she said today was the only day she was free to talk.

Sitting on the couch, I pull up her contact information and call. After five minutes, we reach a price of three-thousand dollars for everything. When I give her my business credit card number, I nearly fall off my seat when she says it’s declined.

“But that’s impossible. Can you try it again?”

Confusion and horror rip through me when she confirms it was declined again. Apologizing, I drag my personal credit card from my purse and nearly collapse in a puddle of tears when she says that card is being declined too.

What the hell is happening? Am I a victim of identity theft? My brain fogs with one terrifying theory after the other. This has to be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what’s happening. Let me call the card company and get this sorted out. Can I call you back Monday?”

She sucks in a breath, holding it. “Listen, you seem really nice, but I’ve had another offer from someone in Texas to buy my whole stock. I was just trying to be fair because you reached out first, but I can’t wait until Monday. I need the money. We’re buying my daughter a car for Christmas.”

Shit.

I can’t let this inventory slip through my fingers. It’ll be a money-maker. And considering I’m stuffing all my extra cash in a manila envelope in the bottom of my panty drawer, I don’t want to lose out. I plan on making a big installment payment to Holt after the first of the new year. He’s never once asked me to pay him back, but I plan to.

I have to.

“Wait. Can you try one more card?” Reaching in my back pocket, I pull out Holt’s credit card and slowly read her the numbers. A sick feeling swirls in my stomach when she tells me it’s approved and she’ll ship everything out on Monday. Burying the guilt deep inside, I promise to tell him what happened as soon as I see him. I can just write him a personal check, I reason. It’s no big deal.

Everything will be fine.

Holt will completely understand.

I call the twenty-four-hour customer service line on the back of my business credit card. Come to find out, a website that I made a purchase on one year ago was compromised with a data breach, and customer card information was stolen. The credit card company shut down my credit card for security reasons. And since my personal card is linked to my business card under the same main account, they shut it down too. They have overnighted new cards to me and instruct me to destroy the old ones. I guess they emailed all this to me today, but I was a little busy watching my boyfriend become a state-winning coach.

By the time I make it back into the Big House, Holt’s family has taken care of almost everything. The men have coolers lined up outside, filled with waters and sodas, and the women have set out paper plates and napkins and store-bought cookies and candy.

“There you are, sweetie. We thought you got lost. Did you get the food ordered?” Teresa asks, wrapping an arm around me.

Trying to shake off the drama of the past few minutes, I nod. “It should be here right after everyone else, assuming the busses are still getting back to the school on time.”

“They are.” She looks down, searching my hands. “Do you want me to put his credit card back in the office? I’ll probably lock that door since so many people will be here.”

“Oh sure.” I give her the card and busy myself in the kitchen, trying to forget the regret of using Holt’s money.

Borrowing.

I mean, borrowing Holt’s money.

***

Holt traces the line of my spine. “Tell me again.”

Kissing his bare chest, I lift my head, giving myself a chance to stare at his handsome face in the moonlight of the bedroom. “You are a state-winning coach.”

He licks his lips. “Not that. The other thing.”

I don’t think Holt will ever know just how sexy he is. Every movement his body makes is like an aphrodisiac. He moves with ease and grace, power and strength. Like a predator. He’s so comfortable in his body. And the rest of us mere mortals aren’t even worthy to look upon him.

I pout, pretending to think. “Hmmm. What other thing?”

Grabbing my hair, he yanks my head back, exposing my neck. Burying his teeth against my soft skin, he tickles the sensitive area with his tongue, making me squirm. “Fine. Fine.” Wriggling away, I lean over him. My hair falls forward, framing us like a weeping willow. “I love you.”

Reaching up, he grabs my face. Lovingly pulling me to him, he kisses me.

And I love it when Holt kisses me.

Eventually, I settle back down, nuzzling against his chest and wrapping my leg over his. “Everyone seemed to have a good time tonight.”

“I think we could’ve sat around and stared at each other all night long, and it still would’ve been fun. It’s called a winner’s high.”

“I’m just glad the food lasted as long as it did,” I say.

Holt laughs. “Yeah, those teenage boys act like wolves when they’re hungry.” He kisses the top of my head. “Thanks for ordering the food, by the way. I gotta say, I was surprised they could deliver so much food on such short notice.”

I giggle. And snort, of course.

He jiggles me. “What?”

“Well, at first, it wasn’t gonna be here in time.”

“What changed?” he asks.

“I sort of name-dropped your name. Fortunately, the guy’s a football fan.”

He chuckles. “So, my fame got us pizzas?”

“Don’t forget the pasta. That alfredo was on point.” It really was. I stole some when no one was watching and hid it in the fridge for tomorrow.

“I was too busy talking to everyone. I never really got a chance to eat.”

“Ohhh. It’s so hard being the number one high school football coach in the state of Alabama,” I tease.

“Haha,” he enunciates with sarcasm. Grabbing a strand of my hair, he twirls it around his finger. “At least we didn’t have too many crashers.”

There were a couple of people who showed up uninvited—some of the fans who think they’re actually part of the coaching staff. But they left immediately when Holt told the guys about them. Granted, most people would leave when you see four men who look like Crutch, Ridge, Cullen, and Will coming at you, with scowls on their faces.

“Speaking of,” he adds, “it was nice that you invited Heidi to come over.”

“Yeah, I mean, she was a cheerleader up until this year. I thought it would be nice for her to celebrate such a big accomplishment with the team.”

I could tell she was super excited and grateful to be included. She gave Holt the biggest hug ever and monopolized his conversation until I asked her to help me clean up where someone accidentally spilled a bowl of spaghetti on the big Christmas tree in the living room. Holt and I decorated it last Sunday, so I nearly had a heart attack when a meatball rolled between the branches and got lost in the artificial foliage.

“It was funny to see how excited the kids were. Did you see Anna asking the boys for their autographs in case they become famous?” Holt asks.

I laugh. “How could I? I was preoccupied watching Laura. She did not like the attention that Nate was getting from some of the freshman cheerleaders.”

He laughs. “No, she did not.” I feel him shake his head. “I can’t believe he’ll be in high school next year. I wish he was zoned for my high school. He’s gonna be a phenomenal ball player.”

We spend the next few minutes in silence. My fingertips draw circles across the sharp lines of his stomach, including the deep V-shaped muscle of his hip. I smirk to myself when his cock jumps underneath the sheets.

He rubs my shoulder, getting closer and closer to my naked breast. Interrupting his obvious plans, I ask him a serious question. “Why teaching and coaching? Why did you wanna do that after your injury?”

“Well, my degree is in physical education and kinesiology. After graduation, Mom made me apply for my state teaching certificate, here in Alabama. I had never really thought about being a teacher, but Mom visited once when I was helping out with a football camp. She said I had a gift.”

“You just got drafted with one of the biggest packages ever offered by the NFL, and Teresa still made you get a teaching certificate?”

“Yep…and I renewed it every five years to keep it active.”

“And now, look at you.” I smell his skin, soaking up the scent of his soap. “I’m so proud of you, Holt.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want for your future? Your professional future, I mean.”

My brow furrows. “Uhhh, sir , I have this little thing called Run and Jump and Twirl. ”

He scoffs, “I know that. I wanna know if you want more than that. Are you happy? With the store?”

“I love the store.” My words come out a little more slowly than anticipated.

He holds me closer. “Mer, I don’t have to see your face to be able to read it.”

When I don’t say anything, he pushes. “Tell me the truth.”

I’m about to tell him something I’ve never told anyone. Well, except for Kyra one night when we were drinking. “You know how Kyra is getting her master’s degree in graphic design?” I wait for him to answer. “Well, she has all these great ideas. She shows me all this amazing stuff that’s she’s designed, and it just blows my mind. I’d love to expand and have a stationery store. You know—letterhead, notepads, invitations, greeting cards. Even fridge magnets and chip clips and cups. Kyra is so talented; she can do anything. If I could have it next door, that would be awesome. We could just cut out the middle wall and have one huge store.” I sigh, thinking about the possibilities. “We could do it together, you know? Be partners. Then, I wouldn’t have to worry about her moving home and leaving me after she graduates this coming spring.”

“So do it.” His comment makes everything seem so simple.

It’s anything but simple.

I turn my head, resting my chin in the crook of his shoulder. “You’re damn crazy.”

He chuckles. “Why?”

“Uhhh… it cost money for something like that. Like a lot of money. I’d have to sell both kidneys just to afford half of a printing machine.” I shrug, “Not to mention, it’s irresponsible for me to even think about stuff like that. I mean, I might not even have my store forever. I have the farm to think about.”

“You wanna work the farm?” His confusion is obvious.

He’s so cute. I kiss the freckles on his nose.

“It’s called a family farm, Holt. That means family has to run it. Daddy still has a lot of good years left, but there will come a time when he wants to retire. He’s worked hard and he deserves that.”

“I know you love the farm, but I thought the store was your dream.”

“The store is my dream, but my family has worked too hard for the farm. I’ll never let it die. I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.”

“So, that’s always been the plan? For you to take over for Deke?”

I shake my head. “Not always, no. It’s supposed to pass from father to son. When Daire was born, we all knew the legacy would survive for another generation.” Even after all these years, emotion strangles me when I talk about my infant baby brother. “Then, he was gone.” Holt kisses the top of my head again, giving me time to compose myself. “When I got married, we just assumed that I would have a son, and Daddy would be able to teach him everything about the farm. It could pass from grandfather to grandson. But of course, that didn’t happen. It’s just the reality of the situation. I’m divorced, and there’s no little boy spending his summers at the sod farm learning how to shovel fertilizer and run tractors. So, it’s on my shoulders. I have to think about that legacy and put it above my own wants and dreams.”

It’s so long before he says something, for a second, I think he’s fallen asleep.

“So, you need a son?” The teasing taunt in his voice can’t hide the desire now bubbling underneath. “I think I know how we can make that happen. I might’ve read about it in a book once.” He reaches around and cups my breast, fondling my nipple.

Giggling, I push his arm away. “I don’t think so. My parents—my granny—would kill me if I got pregnant out of wedlock.”

All of a sudden, he rolls out from under me. Turning the tables, he pins me against the bed. He slides my arms above my head and stretches me. The bedsheet falls down, exposing me to the waist. Even in the darkness, I can see the blue in his eyes. The moonlight reflects in them, and they mimic the rise and fall of the ocean’s waves. “Really? Something to keep in mind, then.”

He shouldn’t say things like that.

Make unspoken promises in the night.

I search his face for the truth, wondering if he’s lying to me. He says he doesn’t lie to me. Is this when it starts? The lies? The broken vows? The shattered gospel?

But I don’t see anything but honesty. Honesty and love and adoration.

Is this really my life?

Is this wordless commitment true?

Is it real?

Is Holt Hill real?

Shifting over me, he slides down my body, grazing his tongue between my breasts and down my stomach.

My heart pounds, and my thighs rub against him searching for friction. “What are you doing?” My whisper is husky and breathless.

He looks up at me, underneath heavy, sex-lusted eyes. And once again, he reads my mind. “I’m making sure you’re real, of course.”

Leaving me with his signature wink, he disappears under the covers and buries his head between my legs.