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Authors: M.E. Carter

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BOOK: Change of Hart
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“Hey, Addison,” I said, stopping her before she could climb in. She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. “I really enjoyed talking with you today.”

She smiled that smile again. “Me too, Jason.”

I cleared my throat. “I’d love to take you to dinner some time. Just the two of us. If you’re interested, that is.”

Addison’s back immediately stiffened and the smile fell off her face. Her eyes widened almost like she was in fear. “Um . . . I, uh . . . ,” she stammered before taking a deep breath. “I’m flattered. But no. No, Jason. Just . . . um . . . no.”

She climbed into the car without another word, not even so much as eye contact, and drove away. Leaving me standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering how the hell I had read those signals so wrong.

 

 

“M
mmm . . . ,” I said, raising my head up, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I heard a giggle to the right of me and opened my eyes.

“Mommy, he said, ‘Mmmm . . .’” Emma laughed. I just smiled and winked at her, taking another bite of the roast Lindsay had made and moaning again just to make her laugh again.

“It’s good,” I defended playfully. “Don’t you like your mama’s cooking, Emma?”

At five years old, she was already the spitting image of her mother. From the hair to the eyes. Even her sarcastic personality. She was a cute kid. She and Jaxon would get along really well. That is, if Addison ever let me see Jaxon again. I wasn’t really sure after the way our visit ended over the weekend.

“She loves when I make roast and vegetables,” Lindsay said. “She just eats really, reeeaallly . . . sloooowly . . .”

I finished chewing and reached my fork over to Emma’s plate, getting ready to snag a carrot.

“Well you’d better hurry up, Emma, or I’m gonna eat yours, too!” She squealed and quickly speared the carrot, shoving it into her mouth.

I looked at Lindsay and winked before digging in to my own food again.

“Seriously, Lin, this is really good,” I said again.

Sam, Lindsay’s husband, grabbed the bottle of Merlot off the table and topped our glasses off.

“You do realize you can make it yourself, right?” Sam said playfully. “It’s been sitting in the slow cooker all day. It’s not like she actually cooked for you.”

“Thanks a lot for blowing my secret, babe,” Lindsay said sarcastically, taking a sip.

“I don’t care how it was made,” I said, shoveling another bite in my mouth. “I haven’t had a meal like this in forever.”

“Mommy, I’m done,” Emma said. I looked over and saw that her plate, which had been full just seconds ago, was empty.

“How did she do that?” I asked.

“That’s all you, buddy. Still so charming you can get the ladies to do just about anything,” Lindsay teased. “You gonna try to get her to do your homework next like you used to do to Katie Woodrow? She always fell for it.”

Sam laughed and pushed his chair away from the table. “I’ll take her upstairs and get her ready for bed now that she’s done. Come on, Emma.”

I swallowed my last bite and put my fork down on my plate as Sam and Emma walked up the stairs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lin. I’m not that big of a player.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a large drink.

“Really,” Lindsay said, sitting back and crossing her arms. “Name one girl you’ve shown even the slightest bit of interest in who rejected you.”

“That’s easy. Nina Randolph.”

“That doesn’t count!”

“Why not?”

“That was in the sixth grade! You didn’t even play football yet!”

“So what?” I defended. “I had a big crush on that girl and she turned me down flat! You know that!”

Lindsay snorted. “If it makes you feel better, she spent all of high school pining over you and telling me how you were ‘the one that got away,’” she said, making air quotations.

“What?” I asked. “How come you never told me that before?”

“Because she was an idiot who only cared about her reputation,” Lindsay said, standing up and piling all the plates together. “She was only upset because she missed out on dating the star athlete and all the notoriety that went with it. Besides, she was a whore.”

“Which was exactly the kind of girl I was into back then,” I argued, gathering a couple of serving plates and following Lindsay into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t have minded showing her what she had missed out on.”

Lindsay started making a gagging sound. “Ew. Don’t even talk about that. The thought of you showing anyone anything like that makes me wanna puke.”

I burst out laughing. It was almost too easy to get Lindsay riled up.

“So really, that’s the best you’ve got? Nina Randolph is the only girl who ever turned you down?” she said, turning on the water to rinse the dishes. I leaned against the counter next to her and ran a hand down my face, not sure I wanted to tell her any more.

“Well . . . I was turned down one other time.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It was kind of recent, actually.”

Lindsay looked up at me with surprise on her face. “Are you kidding?”

I shook my head. “I wish I were. Apparently I misread some signals.”

Lindsay stopped what she was doing and turned her whole body to face me. “Who was it?”

I paused. I didn’t really want to tell her, but I knew she would get it out of me anyway. I looked at the floor, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Addison Bryant.”

“Jason!” Lindsay chastised. “Did you ask her out during the playdate you had with her kid?”

I groaned. “Not
during
.”

“Ohmygod, Jason!” she said, throwing a towel at me. “So now she thinks you used her kid to get to her!”

My head whipped up to look at her. “That’s not how it happened! I didn’t even know she was hot until they showed up!”

“You did not just say that,” Lindsay said with a smirk.

I smirked back. “What? So she’s hot. So what?”

Lindsay rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’re a pig. So, fine. Then what happened?”

“I don’t really know,” I said thinking back to the whole day. “We were talking and having a great time. She batted her eyelashes at me,” I said, turning toward Lindsay. “I swear she batted her eyelashes at me!”

Lindsay turned the water off and grabbed a fresh towel to wipe off her hands, turning all her attention on me.

“Go on.”

“I don’t know. I just . . . when I told her I’d like to take her to dinner, she just got stiff and couldn’t look at me and just kept saying, ‘no . . . just . . . no’ and took off in her car without any explanation.”

She threw the towel on the counter and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Jay, I love you. But you are an idiot.”

I snorted as she continued.

“Her husband died six months ago. Six
months
. That’s not a whole lot of time to grieve over someone you spent several years building a life and family with. Think about how long it took your mom to get over your dad.”

“I thought about that while we were taking the tour,” I said, shifting my feet. “But I swear I was getting this vibe that she was as interested in me as I was in her.” I ran my hand down my face again. “I don’t know. Now I’m worried about exactly what you said . . . that she’ll think I’m using Jaxon to get to her. And that’s not true. I really like the kid.”

Lindsay’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “He’s a really special kid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“So call her and ask if Jaxon can come over and play.”

I threw my head back and roared with laughter at her use of words.

“I’m serious. Show her that even though you are interested in her, you wanna be Jaxon’s buddy, too.”

I looked up at her. “We have another home game in a couple weeks. He had such a good time on the tour, I was thinking of inviting them to come to the game. Meet all my teammates and see what I do.”

“And not ask his mom out again.”

I wish I could say that didn’t disappoint me, because it did. I liked Addison and wanted to get to know her better. She was nice and funny and really cute when she got nervous. I was secretly hoping Lindsay could give me some advice on how to get her to go out with me, not just tell me to back off. But she was right. It had only been six months since her husband died. I guess she just wasn’t ready yet.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said reluctantly.

“What’s she right about this time?” Sam asked, walking in and grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

“Pfftt, what am I
not
right about?” Lindsay asked, putting her arms around Sam and pulling him in for a hug. As I watched them interact, for the first time I started wondering what that would be like. Not to just hang out with someone, but to build a life with someone. I knew I wanted that someday, but I wasn’t gonna go looking for the woman of my dreams in the middle of my career.

But I couldn’t stop wondering if that perfect woman had just fallen into my lap. From a distance, there wasn’t really anything that different or unique about Addison. But our connection felt different. The comfortable way we could interact felt different. If she was my perfect woman, what do I do now?

I hung out for another hour once the kitchen was all cleaned up. Sam and I sat around watching a movie and talking about yesterday’s game while Emma played. And by
played
, I mean ran circles around the room singing the entire soundtrack from some children’s movie. When Lindsay saw that the high-pitched screeching was starting to irritate me, she did what she does best. She encouraged Emma to sing louder and even sang along.

Yeah. That Lindsay’s a funny one, isn’t she?

I got her back by sneaking Emma a few drinks of my coke and tossing her around a bit. By the time I left, that kid was so wound up she probably wouldn’t hit the sack for hours. I had no idea how Sam does it.

On my way home, I thought about what Lindsay said. As much as I thought Addison was interested in me, I knew in my mind that six months wasn’t enough time to grieve over someone you loved like that. It wasn’t fair for me to put her in that position. So I resolved to let that part slide and concentrate on hanging out with Jaxon. I just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward between Addison and me. I pressed the hands-free button on my steering wheel.

“Jason’s phone,” the computerized voice said.

“Call Addison.”

“Calling Addison.” Yes, I had already programmed Addison’s number into my hands-free set. But driving was the most uninterrupted time I had to talk and if I was gonna be Jaxon’s friend, it would come in handy.

“Hello,” she answered softly after two rings.

“Hey, Addison,” I said nervously. “It’s uh, Jason Hart. How are ya?”

“Hi Jason. I’m doing well. You?”

“I’m good, thanks. Just got done with dinner at Lindsay’s. I’m not calling too late, am I?”

“No,” she said. “It’s only 9, so . . . who is Lindsay?”

If occurred to me that most parents call teachers by their last names, just like their kids. My own mom still calls my former teachers by their last names when she runs into them at the grocery store.

“Lindsay Miller . . . Jaxon’s music teacher?”

“Oh. I thought she was married. Are you dating or something?”

I laughed out loud at that one. For a split second I thought I heard some jealousy in her voice. I quickly brushed that thought aside. Surely I was hearing things and that wasn’t why I was calling her anyway. “No! No way! Her husband wouldn’t go for that at all! No, Lindsay and I go way back. I think we were three when we became next-door neighbors.”

“Really?” Addison asked. “I didn’t realize you knew each other so well.”

“Oh yeah. You can thank me for how good her music programs are,” I teased. “She got a lot of practice directing when she used to make me sing show tunes in the backyard for our parents.”

Addison giggled. “I can’t even picture it.”

“Picture it,” I said, amused at the memory. “Then she made me sign up for choir all through middle school. Thank god football practice got in the way by high school. I bet my mom still has one of my old glittery choir costumes in the back of a closet somewhere.”

Addison laughed louder this time. “I’m gonna start calling you Jazz Hands,” she joked.

“HA! Only when you aren’t in the stadium, ok? And never in front of Lindsay,” I said with a smile. “I don’t know who is more relentless . . . my teammates or her.”

“Deal,” she giggled. And then paused. “Listen, Jason, I’m actually glad you called. I want to apologize for the way I left the other day.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said, stopping her. “I should be apologizing to you.”

“Why?” she asked.

I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “I don’t want you to think my interest in you has anything to do with Jaxon. Because it doesn’t. Those are two separate things.”

“Well, thanks,” she said, “because that thought actually did cross my mind. Even though I know we hadn’t met before that day.”

I smiled. “I know. I just wanted to make that clarification. And,” I continued, “I know it’s only been six months since your husband died. That’s not a lot of time and I shouldn’t have put you in that position, so I’m sorry.”

The car went silent. For several seconds.

BOOK: Change of Hart
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