The Bridge to a Better Life (31 page)

Yes,
she heard.
Yes.

“Oh, God,” he rasped, his fingers digging into her hips now.
“Natalie.”

They started to dance, a dance they hadn’t forgotten. His eyes met hers and wouldn’t let her look away, even when her back arched into him, a ragged moan pouring from her lips.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he whispered.

“I won’t,” she promised and knew it was a kind of vow.

They looked into each other’s depths as they rocked and rocked and rocked until the passion between them shattered and healed all their remaining wounds in its wake.

In the weeks that followed, Blake and Natalie renewed their bond. While they didn’t officially live together, she would text him when she was on her way home, and he and Touchdown were always waiting for her at the garage door to greet her. It was his favorite moment of the day, another piece weaving the fabric of their life together again.

They took runs together, watched TV together, talked about their days. And they made love, exploring each other’s bodies with a renewed joy akin to cherishing.

When her alarm went off, Blake would kiss her good morning so sweetly her eyes sometimes grew moist with unshed tears. Most days she barely made it to the office in time, which they both laughed about. Other times, he would make her coffee and bring it to her while she was putting on her makeup, which was partly an excuse for him to watch as she added to the beauty that took his breath away.

They continued to talk about the last two years and everything that had led to their divorce, but they didn’t yet talk about the future. And Blake was okay with that because she was coming back to herself. Sure, there were some extra lines around her eyes from the crying that continued to force its way up and out of her, like an unstoppable geyser that had no choice but to explode, but he was convinced it was healthy. He would hold her when the tears came, and together, they would stand in the midst of the storm until it passed.

They agreed to give their relationship a little more time before he started to accompany her to the family’s gatherings. When Blake had asked her if she’d be okay with him asking April to volunteer at the camp as “The Camp Mom,” she’d given him her A-OK. April had jumped on his offer with a delighted yes without even asking about his status with her daughter or the high school coaching job she’d mentioned to him weeks ago.

When the week of the camp finally arrived, Blake had mixed feelings. It would be the first week he spent apart from Natalie since their reconciliation. Sure, he could sneak back to see her after lights out, but he would miss spending his evenings with her. He told himself it wouldn’t hurt their burgeoning relationship.

Emmits Merriam’s practice field had been freshly cut the morning Blake arrived to make sure everything was ready. Touchdown barked as he opened the car door. The kids needed a mascot, Natalie had suggested, which was why they’d decided their dog would be on the sidelines during the day and around after practice to play with the kids. He was more than touched. It was like she had become his help-mate all over again.

His guys were flying in soon and would arrive in Dare Valley by early afternoon. The volunteer coaches from other similar flag football programs would join them at three o’clock. His assistant was staying in Dare Valley the whole week and would lead a short meeting with the rest of the volunteers later on. But no press. His assistant would take pictures and send them to his publicist.

Tomorrow the kids would arrive, kicking off the advent of camp. He was more than ready. He was stoked. As he tore off a tuft of turf and lifted it to his nose, inhaling the earthy smell, he could feel Adam with him. If his brother had been standing on the field with him, he would have tossed the grass at him, which would have resulted in a silly grass fight.

“Oh, Adam,” he whispered as his chest squeezed with grief. “I wish you were here.”

He rubbed at the tears in his eyes, and when he removed his hand, his whole body stilled. Natalie was walking across the field toward him, a soft smile on her face. The relief he felt was almost overwhelming.

“Hey,” he called out to her, his voice rough from emotion. “I thought you were going to work.”

Her hair was a mixture of brown, red, and gold in the morning sun. The Celtic knot tattoo on her ankle spoke of secrets, ones he wanted to know, but was still too afraid to ask.

“I was halfway there, and then I turned around and came this way.”

She held out her hands to him, which he took.

“It’s a big day for you. I wanted to be here before it gets crazy. I know how you like your pre-game rituals. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“I was…just missing Adam.”

She took him in her arms. “I thought you might be.”

This time he was the one who cried a bit as she held him tight, bearing his grief. His chest was lighter when he finally settled. “I know he’d be happy I’m doing this. I just miss him, dammit.” He wanted his brother to be here. He didn’t want to be doing something in his memory.

“He
would
be happy,” she said, kissing his jaw. “I brought you something.”

When she pressed away to rummage through her tan leather purse, he took some deep cleansing breaths.

“I’m going to miss spending all my evenings with you,” he told her.

Her mouth curved. “I rather like the idea of you breaking curfew to sneak out of camp to make love to me. Makes it feel more forbidden.”

He laughed. “I didn’t think we needed any help in that department. It’s been ridiculously good for me.”

“Me too,” she said, and then she thrust something into his hands.

Wrapped in burgundy paper with a black string, he knew from the shape it was a picture frame. His heart exploded when he saw what it contained.

The photo, taken by Natalie, was of him and Adam playing catch. She’d shot it in black-and-white, so the green in their Denver backyard didn’t dazzle the eyes. What
did
dazzle was the depiction of him playfully extending the football to Adam and his brother grinning from ear to ear as he reached out a hand to take a hold of it. The ball linked them, the perfect sphere of it centered in the photo, showing the passion they shared for the game.

His eyes burned again, and he knuckled away more tears. “Thank you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, babe. I’ll wait up for you tonight.”

Even though he knew she would, he still said, “You don’t have to. You know the guys.”

Everyone was staying in the dorm. He knew darn well knew they would all end up hanging out in the common room reserved for the coaches. It had a pool table, ping pong, darts, and foosball. They were never going to get any sleep.

“If I doze off, you can always kiss me awake.” She gave him one last hug, like she too was dreading the time they would have to spend apart this week. “I love you. Remember that.”

“I love you too,” he said, pressing his face into her hair. His mind flickered back to her tattoo, to the fact he still hadn’t asked her about it. “Ah…I’ve been meaning to ask you about your tattoo.”

Her body stilled. “I…ah…got it after…a year or so ago.”

He realized she didn’t want to say the word divorce any more than he wanted to hear it.

“You don’t have to tell me what it means.”

She cleared her throat. “Well…I…this is awkward, but the three links were for you, me, and…Kim…and that time in my life.” Her face pressed into his neck, her fingers gripped his back. “I wanted to have something to remember it by.”

That she would do something so sentimental—and admit to having done it—moved something powerful in his chest. “Thanks for telling me. I…miss you already.” He’d always told her that before leaving for a road trip, and the words felt right on his tongue.

“Miss you too,” she whispered back.

She stepped away and gave Touchdown a nice rubdown before walking off the field, taking a piece of his heart like she always did. He sat in the center of the field for some time, the sun hot on his ball cap, staring at the picture in his hands.

Jordan was the first to arrive, in a blue convertible Porsche Boxster, no less. His reflective sunglasses and his swagger made him seem more than unusually badass as he approached Blake on the field.

“You’re early,” he said, rising and giving his buddy a hug.

“Yeah.” His shoulder lifted. “Caught an earlier flight.”

There was something in his tone. “What’s up?”

“Shit.” He kicked at the turf, making Touchdown bark. “Sorry. Grace and I had another fight about me getting swept up in all the hype.
People
called. They want to do a feature on me as one of the hottest guys in the NFL. They asked to interview her as part of the piece. She refused.”

“Her privacy has always been important to her,” Blake said neutrally. Natalie had felt the same way, and he’d respected that.

“I get it, but instead of saying she wouldn’t do it, it turned into me becoming someone she sometimes doesn’t recognize. She told me I was morphing from the small town boy she knew from Deadwood, South Dakota into someone she didn’t even recognize, and it pissed me off.”

Blake had been a small town boy from Ohio, so he understood where Jordan was coming from. “Well, you’re not a small town boy anymore, are you? The question you have to ask yourself is this: what is more important to you, the hype or football?”

Jordan nudged him like a determined linebacker would. “You know I love football more.”

“Then…”

“But I like some of the hype,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Why does that make me a bad person?”

“It doesn’t. It’s just not…what Grace is used to.” Or perhaps it wasn’t what she wanted. He’d watched a lot of guys split with their girlfriends from high school or college as their careers skyrocketed. Things
did
change. Not everyone was made to be the girlfriend or wife of an NFL quarterback, and Grace was more level-headed than most.

“She says she hates it when people refer to her as ‘my piece’ or imply she’s mooching off me. Hell, sometimes she still fights me over who pays for dinner.”

So they were arguing about money too. Not good. “Well, she values her independence.” Like someone else he knew whose name started with N.

Jordan leaned down and stroked the field. Touchdown sniffed the grass by his fingers. Blake wasn’t the only player who liked to get a sense of the turf.

“Would it upset you if I asked if you and Natalie ever had these kinds of arguments?”

If he and Natalie hadn’t been back together, it might have been difficult to discuss it, but now, he could answer his friend without any pain. “We fought about the money more than the hype. She didn’t want me to pay for everything either. I hated that at first, but that’s what she wanted, so I conceded.” He would have conceded pretty much everything to be with her. “She wouldn’t accept any money from me when we…divorced.”

Okay, it did hurt to say that, more than he’d thought it would. Memories poured back in, ones they hadn’t talked about. She hadn’t even shown up to sign the divorce papers. He’d scrolled out his name on the legal document ending their marriage with a Mont Blanc pen as a punishing rain streaked the windows of his lawyer’s office building.

“Are you two…” Jordan trailed off.

“We’re…working through things.” He dug out his sunglasses, no longer liking the glare stinging his eyes.

“I’m glad. I hope it sticks.” Jordan slapped him on the back. “So, let’s do this.”

While they waited for the others to arrive, they threw some passes, and then he called in some takeout from Brasserie Dare. Thankfully, no one mobbed him when he went to pick it up. Brian even came out of the kitchen to say hello. Apparently the Hale clan was inclined to keep the peace as he and Natalie worked things out.

They ate lunch in the center of the field, and it felt good to be back on the green grass dotted with white lines every ten yards. Natalie was his home, but this was too. He’d given his whole life to the pursuit of a mere ten yards over and over again.

When the rest of the guys arrived, they hugged and talked trash. Brody challenged Logan to a forty yard dash, causing Zack and Jordan to groan in tandem. They complained they were going to upchuck their lunches, even though that was total bullshit. They just hated to run that fast if there was no need. After all, they were quarterbacks, not wide receivers.

“Are you and Natalie still doing great since our last call?” Sam asked, coming up beside him to clap him on the back.

He and Sam talked every week, and he’d told him where things stood. “Yes.”
So far
. He couldn’t forget about the things they hadn’t discussed—the details of the future and the past—so he still wasn’t convinced they were totally out of danger. The pressure grew in his chest.

As Brody and Logan crouched down into their sprint stance, he called out “Wait. I’m joining you guys.”

“Your old sack of bones?” Logan taunted. “We are so going to smoke you, Ace.”

Yes, they were, no doubt. But at least it would take his mind off the half a dozen doomsday scenarios it was spinning about him and Natalie. His focus needed to be on the camp right now.