Across the fenced-off pens of chickens, goats, and more, Tessa saw Mark step out of a black Cadillac SUV with tinted windows. Excitement fluttered through her.

  “Angus,” she said softly, hovering behind him as he spread chicken feed across the ground. “He’s here.”

  Angus gasped, looking up at her. “He is? He really is?”

  She nodded, tears already blurring her eyes. How was she supposed to survive this day? She looked up, finding Mark heading into the petting zoo with something slung over his shoulder. His broad shoulders stretched the light blue T-shirt he wore, his dark blond hair tucked behind his ears. He sauntered with the easy confidence of a professional football player, someone who quietly knew he was probably stronger and faster than anybody else in a mile radius. He’d always had that effortless confidence and a positivity that could uplift her on even her saddest days. Tessa realized she hadn’t been able to tear her gaze off him after Angus pulled on her arm for the fifth time.

  “Mom, do I look like him?” His little face beamed up at her, the eyes that were Mark’s glowing.

  She swallowed hard, nodding. “Oh yes. You look just like your daddy, honey. So much like him.”

  Angus shielded himself behind her body as Mark came up. Only she could tell the nervousness that danced behind Mark’s smile. Funny how six years apart made him a stranger, but still someone she knew better than anybody else in the world.

  “Hey, guys,” Mark said, giving Tessa a big smile and then peering around her. “Hey, Angus.”

  Angus poked out his head a little bit. Tessa tried to step away so he could reveal himself, but he clung to the back of her legs.

  “You being shy, honey?” she asked.

  Angus didn’t reply. Mark crouched down to put himself at eye level with Angus.

  “It’s okay,” Mark said. “I’m a little nervous too. That’s why I brought you something really cool.” Mark tugged the shirt that had been draped over his shoulder. He held it up, showing it off to Angus. “I got you your very own Coleridge jersey. What do you think?”

  Angus’s eyes went wide, and he immediately stepped out from behind Tessa to accept it. His mouth rounded, and he tilted his head to look up at Mark.

  “Thank you so much, Mark,” Angus whispered.

  “Wow, Angus, that looks so cool,” Tessa encouraged. “Want to try it on?” Angus nodded enthusiastically, and she helped him pull it over his head. An adult small, it was extra big on him, but he looked elated all the same.

  “It’s just like the one I have at home, but this one is better because it’s real, like the professional football players!” Angus gushed.

  “And I’m sure he’ll grow into it in no time,” Tessa told Mark. “He’s growing like a weed these days.”

  Mark cocked a curious smile, looking at her with a glint in his eye that made her insides go hot. “He already has a Coleridge jersey at home?”

  “Oh, uh…” She fumbled to cover up the accidental admission.

  “Yes, it’s the college jersey, right, Mom?” Angus added gleefully, hopping around in his oversized jersey.

  Called out. “Yeah. He has one of your college jerseys. Child-sized, that is.” She hoped he didn’t read too much into it. Even though to her, the intent was plain. She’d been keeping Mark close in her heart throughout the years in plenty of small ways.

  He nodded slowly, grinning down at Angus. “That’s awesome. Wanna go feed some animals?”

  Angus shouted his agreement, and when Tessa offered to store his new jersey, Angus insisted on wearing it, even though it reached his knees.

  “He loves it,” Tessa murmured, looking over at Mark. “Good call.”

  Mark didn’t linger at her side for long. Angus called him over to the goat pen, and she hung back as the two of them received cups of food and instructions from the attendant. Angus giggled as he held out his cup of food, inviting hungry goats. Mark bent at his side, big smiles on their faces, feeding the goats.

  “Mom, you see all these goats?” Angus called out.

  “I do, honey. There are so many.” She leaned against the fence separating her from the animals. She didn’t want to intrude too much in their first moments together. In fact, maybe she should stop hovering, and give them some time to just be together. “Do you guys need anything? Thirsty? I can go get us some drinks.”

  “Orange soda!” Angus cried out.

  “I’m good, Tessa.” Mark smiled over his shoulder at her, true joy shining in his brown eyes. Her stomach flopped, but for the best possible reason. If only he could look at her like that with any regularity, she could die happy.

  Tessa wound her way through the petting zoo toward the concession stand, checking on Mark and Angus every few minutes over her shoulder as she bought orange sodas for her boys. For her boys. She chided herself as soon as the thought floated through her mind. No matter how much she wanted to lay claim to Mark—to resume the relationship she’d dropped and tried to forget about—she couldn’t. Not yet. And maybe not ever.

  Angus would always be her boy. But only in her wildest fantasies could Mark be her man again.

  Back at the goat pen, she handed off the orange sodas to the two of them so they could take a sip. When Mark tried to protest, she lifted her brow.

  “Just hitting you back for buying my wine the other night,” she said.

  Mark narrowed his eyes at her but took a healthy gulp of the drink. “Thanks.”

  “Mmm. I love orange soda. Do you love orange soda too?” Angus asked, looking up at Mark. Before Mark could respond, a goat nudged Angus in the butt. And then again. Hard. Angus stumbled forward, shrieking, and his soda fell from his hand. The orange liquid sprayed through the air, arcing all over his brand-new Sharks jersey and onto the dirt.

  “Oh noooo,” Mark said, rescuing the cup before the contents could entirely drain. He set it aside, kneeling beside Angus. “That goat got you good.”

  Angus’s bottom lip trembled, and immediately Tessa could sense the impending fuss. Especially when Angus looked down at his brand-new jersey and spotted the neon orange stain slashed across the front.

  He let out a wail of a cry. “My new jerseeeeeey.”

  “Ohhh, hey, buddy, it’s okay.” Mark squeezed his arms, and Tessa fought the urge to immediately step in. After all, this was about Mark getting to know Angus—mishaps and all.

  “It’s ruiiiiined,” Angus cried.

  “No, it’s not ruined. And if it is, I’ll get you a new one. You know?”

  “I don’t want a new one.” Angus stomped his foot. “I want this one, from my new daddy.”

  Tessa rolled her lips in and drifted toward the goat pen gate. She’d give it five more seconds, then she would intervene.

  “Stains aren’t such a big deal,” Mark went on, apparently unfazed by the emotional outburst in front of him. “Look. I’ll even get one too.” He tossed some of his own soda onto his shorts, then looked at Angus expectantly. “See? Just like you.”

  Angus broke down further, and Tessa slipped into the goat pen with them. “Hey, honey. It’s fine.” She crouched down beside Mark, squeezing her son’s arm. “Let’s get away from the goat and go calm down.”

  She led Angus out of the pen and toward a shaded area under some big trees. Mark followed, and Tessa wrapped Angus in her arms, whispering to him about how everything was okay, and she’d use the magic stain eraser to save the shirt. After enough of this, Angus had calmed down, and Mark looked at her as if she’d just performed magic.

  As Angus sniffled and wiped at his cheeks, Mark squeezed his shoulder. “You’re okay, big guy.”

  Angus nodded, looking up at Mark. “Can we go see the turkeys now?”

  The relief written across Mark’s face made Tessa chuckle. “Of course. You lead the way.”

  Angus pranced off as though nothing had ever happened, and the two of them followed behind.

  “I think he’s extra emotional today because, well…” Tessa gestured at the space between Mark and Angus. “You know.”

  “It’s fine. Part of being a kid, right?” He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets, which made his biceps bulge even bigger. “You’ve done a great job raising him. That much is clear.”

  “Well, thanks.” She squinted into the sunlight as Angus hopped ahead, pointing at the turkey pen.

  “We should set a schedule,” Mark said. “Like, when I can come see him and stuff.”

  Tessa was relieved he even wanted to think about future dates. Part of her was worried that he might maintain a distant role in Angus’s life—the once-a-month type of dad that some of her colleagues complained about. “I think that’s great. Maybe you could even stop by for lunch sometime this week at his school. I’m sure his friends would love to see you again, too. We just need to get clearance ahead of time, with the school. So if you’re serious, we can pick the day and I’ll submit it to the principal.”

  “Absolutely. How does Tuesday sound? It’s my off day.”

  “It’s a date,” she blurted, before she realized how it sounded. She felt her cheeks flush, but luckily they’d arrived at the turkey pen, and Angus had called Mark off to join him.

  Only she had to know how eager she was for anything resembling a date with Mark. One look at the wide, sturdy planes of his chest had her body begging for so much more than a platonic visit to a petting zoo, where she could only wonder how many women he already had in his life. How many women who would throw themselves at him, especially now that he was a new addition to the NFL.

  But for now, the only priority was Mark stepping into his role as father.

  Tessa needed to keep her wants and desires in the back seat.

  Possibly forever.

  5

  The next day, Coach Scooter’s whistle pierced the air so harshly it felt like a smack across the face.

  And during practice, that’s exactly what it was.

  Mark’s chest heaved as Coach charged up to him. “What on God’s green earth was that mess?” he demanded. Mark had fucked up a play in the last run, he could admit that. But he didn’t think it was that bad.

  “Coach—” he started.

  “Don’t give me another goddamn word.” Scooter’s glare counted as maybe the fiftieth Mark had received during practice that day. He held back a groan, propping his palms on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “Drills,” Scooter barked, and then ripped out another whistle. The team parted ways, heading for a different part of the field to break into drill groups. Maxwell jogged up to him, clapping him on the back.

  “Don’t let him get to you,” Maxwell said. “It was just a matter of time before Scooter decided it was your turn.”

  Mark tried to muster a laugh, but he couldn’t. “Yeah? I’m pretty sure he’d fire me on the spot if he could.”

  “Nah,” Maxwell said as the two of them kept pace jogging. “We’ve all been there.”

  Mark tried to take comfort in Maxwell’s words, but so far, nobody had gotten it as bad as Mark had today. And while he knew he hadn’t been on the team even half as long as most of these guys, he could tell that Coach had reserved something special for him in today’s berating.

  It was a new feeling for him, though he knew it had to be coming now that he played at the ultimate level. All through high school and even college, he’d been the golden boy. Now, he was one golden boy among many, much shinier, golden boys. And on days like today, he hoped he could hang for the long haul.

  They completed a brutal and seemingly endless set of sprints. Once practice was over for the day, Mark practically limped back to the locker room. There were two major pluses to the workday ending: no more damn drills, and now, he could finally focus his attention on the only thing that occupied his mind these days…Angus and Tessa.

  Mark was last to the showers, but only because he was moving slower than everyone else. Nobody on that team had run as much as he had that day. It was a strange badge of pride, but at least he knew he was getting the most elite training known to humankind. Casual conversation floated through the locker room as he undressed and then finally hauled himself under the warm water.

  It was just a regular preseason Monday, which meant he’d been busting ass for hours already and now had the rest of the afternoon and evening to himself. And the only thing he wanted to do with the rest of his day was find some way to keep getting to know Angus. And he couldn’t lie to himself; the fact that Tessa was part of the package made it that much sweeter.

  Except she’s not yours. Hasn’t been for a long time.

  They hadn’t talked about many personal things beyond Angus yet, but there wasn’t a part of him that believed she was single. And if she was? She wouldn’t be single for long. There had to be some lucky goon at that fancy school she worked at who would scoop her up in a heartbeat. And dammit if the thought didn’t make his chest go tight, even though it shouldn’t.

  He forced himself not to think too hard about Tessa, because prolonged thoughts about her only went in one direction. And that was not a good idea while he was showering in the locker room.

  Once he’d finished soaping up and rinsing off, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back to his locker. Pete Grant, the kicker for the Sharks, sat on the padded bench, clutching at his right shoulder with a grimace.

  “What’s up, bud?” Mark asked.

  Pete cast him a dark look. “Shoulder’s been bothering me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Mark sat down on the bench next to him. “Maybe you should take it easy. A lot of people treat pain with heat, because it’s comforting, but you know cold will do a lot more for those muscles. It’ll just knock out the inflammation.”

  Pete stopped rotating his shoulder and pinned him with a blank stare. “No shit.”

  Mark scratched at the back of his neck as a few of their teammates snickered around them. So maybe he was still used to being the team captain and guiding the younger teammates.

  “Pretty sure Pete has a few other options for helping his shoulder out than you, rookie,” said a teammate Mark couldn’t see from across the room.

  “Though I’d love to hear more about this cold treatment,” Pete went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please, go on.”

  Mark steeled his jaw, letting the ribbing wash over him. In a way, he deserved it. And after the day he’d had, why not add this on top?

  James tugged on a T-shirt as he headed over from the other side of the locker room. “Guys. Go easy on him. He was just trying to help.”

  “Big help there,” Pete muttered, coming to his feet. “You’re not my coach, Coleridge, and you’re not my trainer. Stay in your lane, bro.”

  Mark made a mock salute as Pete walked past. “Noted. Good talk, Pete.”

  James clapped him on the shoulder as he sat on the bench beside him. “You’re still in college team captain mode, I see.”

  Mark grimaced. “Old habits, man.”

  “You know, it’s fun when young players like you come around,” James said, propping his elbows on his knees. “Reminds us all of what we were like when we first went pro.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” Mark grumbled.

  “It is.” James winked. “We’ve all been where you are, trust me.”

  A buzzing from Mark’s locker interrupted them. Mark sighed, coming to his feet. “Thanks, man. I just hope I get the hang of it.”

  “You will,” James promised. Mark grabbed his phone, seeing Granddad flashing across the screen.

  He swiped the phone on, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he rummaged for clothes. “Hey there.”

  “How’s my football star doing?” His granddad’s rough voice was an unexpected balm. The old man had believed in him since day one, which meant it had been a no-brainer when Mark needed to drop his college course load to help his granddad when he was fighting cancer. The nickname football star hadn’t started with his being drafted, either. No, it had started back in sixth grade. And his grandfather called after every game, from high school through now, and occasionally after practice. Though for today’s call, he suspected his grandfather had more on his mind than football.

  “Pretty good,” Mark said, pulling out a T-shirt and workout shorts. “Just got my ass kicked, that’s for sure.”

  “I wouldn’t expect any less from that hothead Scooter you’ve got as your coach,” his granddad replied. As maybe the biggest professional football expert in Mark’s life, his grandfather had helped mold Mark’s appreciation for the sport from day one.

  “Hothead is right,” Mark muttered, careful not to let any of his teammates catch wind of the conversation. He didn’t want to inadvertently create more ripples.

  “So, I had a little chat with your mama…”

  Mark smirked. Here it was. The real reason he’d called. “So she told you about Angus?” Mark had shared the news with his parents the day after he met Tessa at the wine bar. Their response had been a similar roller coaster of reactions, starting with shock, transitioning through anger and confusion, and ending with sheer joy.

  “Damn straight she did!” He whooped. “You meanin’ to tell me I’m a great-granddaddy?”

  “Yep.” His grin strained at his cheeks. “You’re a great-granddaddy. And my boy is…the best. He looks just like me when I was his age.”

  “He act just like you too? Football fan and everything?”

  “Hardcore,” Mark said. “I gave him his first pro jersey yesterday. He was over the moon.”

  “When do we get to meet the little guy?”

  Mark set the phone down for a moment so he could tug his shirt on, then he said, “Soon. Promise.”

  “And Miss Tessa, how is she doing?”

  “Great,” Mark admitted.

  “And when do we get to see your long-lost girlfriend?”

  Mark hesitated before pulling on his gym shorts. “I’m not so sure about that. She hasn’t been my girlfriend since senior year, and I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon.”

  “No? She got herself another, better-looking football star who’s making his family proud?” When Mark tried to respond, his granddad barreled on. “Didn’t think so. Nobody’s better than you, Mark.”