Page 17 of Yes, Coach (Bratton Hollow #1)

Taryn

O ne Year Later

I wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of Murphy humming in the kitchen, and for a moment I just lie here, soaking in how perfect my life has become.

Our house is everything I never knew I wanted.

It's not huge, but it's ours—a cozy two-story just off campus with a wraparound porch and a garden Murphy's been teaching me to tend.

He bought it outright, cash, which had shocked me until he explained about his NFL contract money and the investments he'd been making for years.

"Never had a reason to spend it before," he'd said simply. "Now I have two girls to take care of."

Two girls. Me and Mom.

The assisted living facility he found for her is nothing like the places we'd looked at before, the ones covered by Medicaid with their sterile halls and overworked staff.

Sunset Manor is warm and welcoming, with private apartments and a staff that actually cares about their residents.

Mom has her own space but access to round-the-clock medical care, social activities, and meals she doesn't have to worry about preparing.

She cried when we first toured it. Happy tears, for once.

"You don't have to do this," she whispered to Murphy. "I can't pay you back."

"You're not supposed to pay me back," he replied firmly. "You're family now. This is what family does."

The monthly cost made my head spin, but Murphy didn’t even blink. Just signed the papers and arranged for movers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Daddy takes care of his girls," he'd told me later when I tried to thank him for the hundredth time. "All of them."

She’s getting the best treatment, and is getting better. Nobody can say for sure if things have turned a corner or if they’re just settled, but it’s a world away from what it was.

I stretch and pad downstairs in one of his t-shirts, following the sound of sizzling bacon and his off-key humming. He's standing at the stove in just pajama pants, his hair still messy from sleep, and my heart does that flutter thing it's been doing for over a year now.

"Morning, beautiful," he says without turning around, somehow always knowing when I'm watching him.

"Morning, Daddy." I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my face against his warm back. "You're up early."

"Wanted to make sure my girl has a good breakfast before her big day."

Today I start my sophomore year at State, and I'm nervous in ways I can't quite explain. Not about the classes—Murphy's been helping me plan my schedule, making sure I'm not overloading myself. Not about the social aspects either. I have Chloe, for starters. She’s not in the same classes as me, but I see her every chance I get. As for the secrets she wouldn’t talk about at graduation? Well, those aren’t mine to tell. Suffice to say, I’ve never seen her happier than she is right now.

I've made a few other friends too, though Murphy tends to glower at any guy who looks at me for too long.

"You threatened another boy yesterday," I say, remembering the way he stepped between me and Josh from my statistics class when Josh had gotten a little too friendly during our study group.

"I had a conversation."

"You told him if he touched me again, you'd rearrange his face."

"That's a conversation." He turns in my arms, hands settling on my hips. "Kid needed to understand boundaries."

"He was helping me with a problem."

"He was looking for an excuse to put his hands on you." His voice drops to that possessive growl that makes my stomach flutter. "Only one person gets to touch you, baby girl, and it sure as hell isn't some college boy who thinks he's slick."

The jealousy should probably annoy me, but instead it makes me feel cherished. Protected. Like I'm something precious worth guarding.

"You know I'm only yours, right?" I stand on my toes to kiss his jaw. "You don't have to worry about college boys."

"I don't worry about you. I worry about them. They don't understand what they're dealing with." His hands tighten on my hips. "They see a pretty girl and think they can just... pursue her. They don't realize she belongs to someone who will end them if they try."

The possessive words send heat straight through me. Even after all this time, the way he claims me makes my knees weak.

"Speaking of belonging to someone..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. "I have something for you."

My heart stops. "Murphy..."

"It's not what you think," he says quickly, but he's smiling. "Well, not exactly what you think. Not yet. And not another collar either."

That makes me blush. The collars are my favorite things. Even when I’m otherwise naked, the lettering saying “Good Girl” makes me feel special and loved.

Those aren’t the only gifts he gets me, either.

Two weeks ago he took away my internet time after I got into an argument with some douche on Facebook.

I started throwing a tantrum and… well… it could have led to spankings, but it didn’t.

Instead, he presented me with this sippy cup, complete with the word “brAT” emblazoned on the side.

I couldn’t help myself. I just loved it too much to remember why I was moody.

Daddy put me to bed for naptime, with the cup filled with juice on the side, and when he came to wake me it was all empty.

I haven’t used that cup since, but it’s not going anywhere. Sometime, I might need to be reminded that Daddy knows best.

He opens the box to reveal a delicate gold ring with a small diamond that catches the morning light. It's beautiful, but it's not an engagement ring. It's something else entirely.

"It's a promise ring," he says, taking it from the box. "A promise that you're mine, that I'm yours, and that when you're ready—when we're both ready—I'll make it official."

"Murphy..." Tears blur my vision as he slides it onto my right hand. It fits perfectly, of course. He probably measured my finger while I was sleeping.

"There's an inscription," he says softly.

I look closer and see tiny script on the inside of the band: Daddy's Girl.

"I love it," I whisper. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl. More than you'll ever know." He cups my face in his hands. "You know what this means, though, right? Wearing my ring?"

"What does it mean?"

"It means you're officially claimed. Marked as mine. Any boy who gets ideas about my girl will see that ring and know she's taken."

The thought makes me glow with satisfaction. Being marked as his, claimed in a way everyone can see.

"Good," I say firmly. "I want everyone to know I'm yours."

"That's my girl." He kisses me softly. "Now, about breakfast. I made your favorite."

He plates bacon, eggs, and pancakes, setting it in front of me with a glass of orange juice and my vitamins. The vitamins were his idea—making sure I'm getting proper nutrition since I have a tendency to forget to eat when I'm stressed about school.

"Eat," he says, settling across from me with his own plate. "All of it this time, baby girl. You need fuel for your brain."

“Yes, Daddy.” I dig in obediently, still admiring the way the ring catches the light. "Are you nervous about today?"

"About you starting classes? No. You're brilliant, you'll do fine." He pauses. "Are you nervous?"

"A little. It's just..." I struggle to find the words. "What if things change? What if I change? What if college makes me different, and you don't like who I become?"

The fear has been nagging at me for weeks. What if becoming more of a brat? More of a bad girl?

What if Daddy stops looking at me like I’m the most important thing in his world?

"Hey." His voice is firm but gentle. "Look at me, sweetheart."

I meet his eyes, seeing understanding and patience there.

"You think I fell in love with you because you were helpless?

Because you needed rescuing?" He reaches across the table to take my free hand.

"I fell in love with you because you're brilliant and strong and beautiful. Because you have opinions and dreams and a mind that amazes me every day. Because you’re my perfect girl. "

"But what if—"

"What if nothing. You think learning and growing is going to change the fact that you're mine?" He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "Baby girl, I want you to become everything you're capable of being. I want you to challenge me, surprise me, grow into the incredible woman I know you are. But that doesn’t change anything between the two of us. You’re still my baby girl, and I’m still Daddy, and we always will be. You think you’ll stop needing me just because you learn to take care of yourself? "

"And you'll still want to take care of me?"

"Always. Because taking care of you isn't about you being weak or incapable.

It's about you being precious to me. It's about me loving you so much that making your life easier, better, happier is what makes me happy.

" His thumb strokes over my knuckles. "You could have ten degrees and run a Fortune 500 company, and I'd still want to make sure you eat breakfast and tuck you in at night. "

The words ease something tight in my chest. "Promise?"

"I promise. You're stuck with me, baby girl. Through college, through whatever comes after, through all of it." He grins. "Besides, someone has to keep the college boys in line."

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. "You're going to be a menace on campus, aren't you?"

"Me? I'm the picture of professionalism. Assistant Strength and Conditioning Coach Murphy Reynolds, here to help student athletes reach their potential." His grin turns wicked. "If some of those student athletes happen to be boys who look at my girl wrong, well, that's just coincidence."

"You're terrible."

"I'm protective. There's a difference."

I finish my breakfast while he tells me about his plans for the day—meetings with the athletic department, setting up training schedules, making sure he knows exactly where I'll be and when.

It should feel suffocating, but instead it feels like being wrapped in the warmest, safest blanket imaginable.

"Ready for your first day of sophomore year?" he asks as I gather my backpack.

"With you watching over me? I'm ready for anything."

He walks me to the door, straightening my cardigan and making sure I have my lunch money, my schedule, my phone charger. Taking care of me in a dozen small ways that make me feel cherished.

"Have a good day, baby girl. Learn something amazing and tell me all about it tonight."

"What if some boy tries to talk to me?"

"Then you show him your ring and tell him your Daddy doesn't like to share."

The possessive words make me grin. "And if that doesn't work?"

"Then you text me, and I'll come have another conversation ."

I stand on my toes to kiss him goodbye, tasting coffee and promises on his lips.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too. Now go learn something so you can come home and impress me with how smart my girl is."

As I walk toward campus, the ring catching the morning sun and my heart is full of certainty.

I know exactly what I'll say when people ask about the beautiful man who drops me off and picks me up every day, who watches my classes from across the quad, who makes sure I never have to face the world alone.

I'll tell them he's mine. My protector, my provider, my Daddy in every way that matters.

And when the day is over, when I've learned new things and talked to new people and maybe even impressed a professor or two, I'll come home to him. To our house, our life, our perfect little world where I get to be his cherished girl, and he gets to be my everything.

"You come back to me, baby girl," he calls from the porch, and the words wrap around my heart like a promise.

"Always, Daddy," I call back. "Always."

THE END