I need it because all of this feels too good, and even if I like it, I’m still leaving in a matter of weeks. His life is here and mine is in Nashville and on the road.
“Are you gonna kiss her or what, Sheriff?” Kinsley says as she sidles up next to me, pulling me from my thoughts and hammering home just how precarious our situation is.
Jensen’s eyes widen the slightest bit like he’d forgotten we had an audience here. While things had heated up in the privacy of his home, we never talked about what we were doing. Making out in the darkened parking lot of Darling Farms aside, we’d kept things platonic in public.
Glancing around, I shake my head. “Save it for later. There are too many people, and even though they’ve been respectful, you don’t need anyone knocking on your door when I’m gone, looking for a story.”
The lightness that had been in the air evaporates, my stomach bottoming out when the light in Jensen’s blue eyes dims. I don’t want to hurt him, but dammit, I told him this was a bad idea.
“Well then, let me squish my niece while you two make eyes at each other,” Kinsley says as she plucks Remi from my arms and steps away.
“I’m not doing it to be a bitch,” I say quietly so only Jensen can hear me. “I just want to protect you.”
“It’s always been my job,” he replies, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Don’t much care for it in reverse.”
“Well, Sheriff,” I purr as I take a small step forward, “why don’t you think about somethingelseyou’d like in reverse and we candiscussit tomorrow?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miss Hart.” His lips twitch and I like that I was the one to do it. I also know what those lips and that mouth are capable of, so I’m sure that factors in too.
“All right, friends,” Kinsley says with a flourish as she hands Remi back to Jensen, “we have plans and then lava cake.”
Taking my hand, I giggle as she leads me out of the complex and toward the parking lot. The cool air is like a balm, calming my racing heart and letting me see things a little clearer.
Too bad I like the lust-filled Jensen version better.
”Do you want to talk about it?” Kinsley asks as she buckles her seatbelt and turns to look at me.
“About what?” I’m not avoiding the question; I just genuinely need to know whichitshe means.
“Coaching.” Her fingers tap out a rhythm on her thigh as she meets my gaze. “And how it’s the happiest I’ve seen you, second only to the way you looked with Remi and Jensen after the game.”
Looking out the windshield, I don’t answer right away, but when I do, my voice is quiet. “I forgot what it’s like to just want to play the game. They have dreams and aspirations, Kins, and I envy them for that.”
Her expression is sympathetic and I don’t know how I feel about it. “It’s okay to want new things. Soccer has been your personality your entire life, and it’s made you an incredible athlete.” She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “But you’re more than a job, and at the end of the day—that’s really what soccer is for us. And” she adds slowly, “if you wanted to coach you’d still be able to live and breathe it, just in a wayyouwant, not the way we have to.”
Her words resonate deep inside me, but like so much tonight, now is not the time to dwell on thewhat-ifsandmaybes. If I have any chance of making it through tonight, I need to push all of the wondering aside and enjoy what little time I have left here.
Clearing my throat, I start the car, and “Who’s Your Daddy?” by Toby Keith comes on, sending us both into a fit of giggles.
“This seems fitting,” I muse and she snickers. “And since I still know nothing about your repeat bedmate, it’s time to spill.”
She snickers but she’s practically bouncing in her seat. “Well…”
35
JENSEN
The last few days had all blended together and between Nessa’s last game at the university, Kinsley’s surprise visit, and everyone excited for the holiday, I’d barely slept. Remi seemed to be going through a sleep regression which the baby app on my phone said was normal but wildly inconvenient after we’d been lulled into a solid routine.
Somehow, I’d managed to get everything done despite working a double the last two days. After this sixteen-hour shift, I’ll have a couple of days off, and Nessa assured me we’d celebrate Remi’s first Christmas.
Logically, I know she won’t remember that we didn’t celebrateonChristmas, but it still has my shoulders slumping just a little.
“Merry Christmas, Sheriff,” Austin Kidd says as he walks into my office with a stack of presents in his arms. “Where do you want me to put these?”
“Merry Christmas, and uh, what are those for?”
Placing them on one of the open chairs in front of my desk, he chuckles like it should be obvious, but this is a first for me.
