Hope for Us (Hope Series Book #3) (5 page)

I stared out of my office window at the Cardinals practice field more often than I liked to admit in the last few days. I couldn’t make out the player’s faces, but no denying who I was looking for. During the first week of training camp, I didn’t hear from Jackson at all. I didn’t expect to.

Okay, maybe I did, but I shouldn’t, right? He texted Jack every night to tell him a little something about his day and I checked out the text on my eight-year-old’s phone for something, anything. I was jealous of my son’s relationship.

So pathetic.

I came into the office on Thursday surprised to see Adam.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t back until next week?”

“Yeah, well, plans change, don’t they?” he said distracted by something on his computer.

“You okay?”

“What?” he looked up. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Listen, I know how much you love being around football players and all, but I need to ask you a favor.”

“Why do you think I don’t like football?”

“I don’t know, because you seem reluctant to do anything remotely related to it even though we run a sport focused practice. If you weren’t so damn good at your job, I would have let you transfer to another department by now.”

“I don’t want to move to another department and I love football.”

He blinked at me and narrowed his eyes before shaking his head and continuing.

“Okay … Well, good then you will be all over this task.”

“What?”

“The summer associates are going to training camp for the day.” He handed me a sheet of paper. “Here’s the planned itinerary and the list of students and their schools. I need you to chaperone. The Cardinals will be in charge of everything. I want you there to answer any questions they might have about our practice area and let me know if anyone stands out that we should be looking closer at.”

“All these students went to Ivy League schools.”

“You are a lawyer, you can relate.” He looked up at me. “Didn’t you do a summer internship during undergrad?”

“No, I’m sorry. I was raising a child over my summer vacation.”

Adam laughed and I joined him.

“You really aren’t normal, are you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. That’s how I meant it.” The glint in his eye made me uncomfortable, and I turned away. “You can take Jack and take Carrie and have her bring her daughter.”

“Okay, but you owe me.”

“Yeah, I’ll settle up at the end of the year.”

I waited until breakfast the next day to tell Jack we were going to training camp at Cardinals stadium. I didn’t want him to warn Jackson. Yes, I used my son as a pawn in my romantic games. I told you I was pathetic.

“Hurry up and finish your cereal.” Jack was reading the sports page on his iPad. My kid was strange. 

“Mama, did you know James Towson said he thinks Jackson is going to start for the Cardinals in the season opener?”

“I’m sure Marcus Sampson isn’t exactly thrilled to hear that.”

“Well, Jackson is better than Sampson. The better man has to play, right?”

“Maybe, but sometimes other things go into the coach’s decisions.”

“That’s not fair. The best player should play all the time.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him sometimes life wasn't fair. He would learn that lesson on his own soon enough.

“Well, why don’t we go and check out practice for ourselves.”

“Oh, my goodness. What?” He started tapping his foot and getting animated. This only happened when it came to Jackson and football.

“I have to take a group of law students to training camp. Carrie and her daughter are coming, too. We can go watch the team practice and then we get to take a tour of the stadium and have dinner with the team.

“No way. Really? Yesssss!” He jumped up and ran in to the laundry room. “Julia, did you hear? We get to go to training camp. Where’s my jersey?”

“Whoa. Hold on.” He ran back into the kitchen, hugged me around my neck and almost pulled me off my chair. “We aren’t going until after lunch. I need you to come to the office with me and sit quietly while I work and then we’ll go, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re excited to see practice?”

“I can’t wait to see Jackson.”

I had to admit, so was I.

I followed the bus full of six law students in my own car with Carrie in the passenger seat and Jack and her daughter in the back. Jack grew tired of trying to explain to Carrie’s daughter why going to practice was such a big deal. Carrie’s ten-year-old daughter preferred dresses and make-up to football and getting dirty. She was also a little boy crazy, which I thought seemed weird for a ten-year-old girl.  When I looked over at Carrie adjusting her make-up for the third time since we left the office eight minutes ago, I understood why.

Thank God I have a boy.

When we stepped out of the car and the students exited the bus, we were greeted by a tall blond-haired blue-eyed woman in a tight fitted red suit and four inch wedge heels; Rebecca, not Becky or Becca, but Rebecca. That was how she introduced herself to me when I met her for the first time last year. Nepotism got her the position as an assistant in the marketing department.

“Hello. Welcome to training camp for the Arizona Cardinals. We have any Cardinals’ fans?” she asked. The students all looked at her and stared. Jack raised his hand.

“You are? And who is your favorite Cardinals?” she asked bending down to meet him at eye level, her cleavage five inches from his face. Thank God my child could care less about this woman and her cleavage.

“Jackson Mitchell,” Jack said.

“Who?” she asked.

“Jackson Mitchell. The Cardinals’ new quarterback.”

“Oh sweetie, the Cardinals quarterback is Marcus Sampson.”

One of the law students laughed. “You guys like traded for Jackson Mitchell a week ago. I hate football, but even I knew that.”

I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing out loud. Rebecca turned to hide her face, which had to be the same shade as her suit. “Okay, well we have special seats for you to watch practice and then after, you will have time to meet some of the players before our tour of the stadium.” She sounded like a teacher speaking to a bunch of twelve year olds. She lost the crowd at hello.

“Who’s that guy?” I motioned to Carrie referring to the football hater. “I like him.”

“You would.”

We walked into the stadium and down the stairs to the practice field. I spotted Jackson the minute we stepped on the field. He had his helmet off, leaned over a table and grabbed a water bottle. The world slowed down as he squirted some in his mouth and then all over his face and the top of his head. He blew out the water and a spray of water dispersed in the sunlight. He shook the water off his head. I saw individual droplets slide down the side of his face, down his neck and disappeared inside of his jersey. If I concentrated harder, in my mind, I could make his jersey disappear.

“Carrington.”

I gasped. “What?” I turned to Carrie.

“Are you going to join us or sit there and stare with your mouth open?”

I pulled my hat tighter over my head and took a seat.

Between plays, Jackson waved. We waved back, but I couldn’t detect anything from his wave.

The smart-ass kid from the bus walked in front of the group and tapped Rebecca on the shoulder. “You see number nine? That’s Jackson Mitchell.”

“Oh, I know silly,” she said and patted him on the shoulder. “I just call him J.”

“Right.” He nodded and walked over to a table with some drinks and snacks set up for our group. I followed.

“You’re really not much of a football fan?”

“Depends. If I tell the truth, will it get back to the hiring partners that I was disagreeable and not a team player?”

“No, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the assistants like yourself that run the firm anyway, right?”

“You know I’ll kind of pretend like you said associate and ignore the fact that you just called me an assistant.”

“Oh, fuck. I mean, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You couldn’t know.” I pointed to Carrie. “She’s an assistant and looks more like a lawyer than I do.”

He turned bright red himself.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Robert Shafer. Northwestern.”

“Nice to meet you, Robert. I’m Carrington. Third year associate.”

“I really am sorry. You probably think that was highly offensive, sexist, and racist, but honestly, it was plain old stupidity.”

“Well, I can deal with stupidity.” I laughed. A coach called Jackson’s name, and I turned and found Jackson’s eyes on me. His coach called him again before he realized and he went back to practice. 

Now, what's that about?

When practice ended, Jackson grabbed a towel and headed over to our side of the field. Rebecca attempted to corral the group, but Jack and I waited for Jackson. She looked at Jackson as he approached. I gave her a don't death stare and she turned her attention back to the group and left us alone.

“Hey.” Jackson bent over and hugged Jackson. “I didn’t know you were coming out today.”

“Yeah, it was a last-minute thing. I’m escorting some law students.” I leaned in and Jackson laid a butterfly kiss on my cheek. His lips barely touched me, but the contact stopped my heart. My reaction freaked me out. Again, something so small blew way out of proportion in my mind and it had me doubting myself. How can this man affect me after all these years apart?

Jake spoke a mile a minute and covered the fact I had not said another world. I didn't trust myself to speak.

“Cool. You guys around for bit?”

“Yeah, we get to eat dinner with you,” Jack said.

“That’s great, buddy. You want to come out and watch me work routes with Towson?”

“Can I, Mama?”

Jack looked up with his puppy dog eyes while Jackson looked down with the same expression.

“Okay, but you stay out of the way and do what Jackson tells you, okay?”

“Okay, come on, buddy. We’ll meet you at dinner.”

I turned away, but Jackson reached out and touched my arm. Again, I was rendered speechless. A chill ran up my spine as his hand ran down my arm and he squeezed my hand. My head tilted up to catch his eyes staring. Before I could say anything he turned to follow Jack who had already taken off down the field.

What the heck was that?

My speech returned, but now my head ached. I needed to stop analyzing every single teeny tiny gesture. I hated not knowing. I wanted to know. I deserved to know. Patience was not one of my strong suits. 

Jackson had consumed my thoughts since the moment he walked back into my life. I couldn’t recall what I used to think about before—my mind played every word, touch, and smirk over and over in my head like it was some grand puzzle for me to solve. This was my life.

I followed the tour around the stadium but didn’t pay attention. As Rebecca brought us to the owner’s suite, her exaggerated exuberance from everything related to the stadium faded away as I looked down over the field.

I imagined sitting up here watching Jackson play. Being a part of his life and my life revolving around his. Living in two seasons, in season and off-season. I pictured spending Sunday at the game and sharing in his wins and losses.

Was I ready for that kind of life?

I really didn’t know much about Jackson anymore. I couldn’t decipher his looks and touches. I had no idea how he handled wins or losses. He and I had grown apart and I couldn’t fathom it, considering how close we were in the past. I held onto this image of Jackson back in college when he gave up easy and normal to love me. Back then he had no doubt it would work out, but I pushed him away. Maybe I was kidding myself into thinking he even wanted me again.

I wiped my face and joined the group as we shuffled out of the suite.

“That was exciting, wasn’t it?” Rebecca said as we gathered in front of the elevator.

Exciting was an understatement.

As we walked into the dining hall, I spotted Jackson at a table on the other side of the room. He looked up as if he felt my gaze. Typical Jack, he stood at the head of the table and entertained them all. I smiled at Jackson, but on the inside my stomach clenched and I had trouble catching my breath. 

I needed some air.

I found Carrington sitting on a bench outside of the stadium with her head in her hands.

She looked fine. She wasn’t crying or having a panic attack. I wondered if she still experienced those episodes like after the attack. I shook the memory out of my head and walked over to her, making my steps loud on purpose. I didn’t want to scare her.

“Hey, you okay?” She snapped her head up and glared at me. I ran my hand through my hair and crossed them over my chest. I pictured myself in my head and thought how stupid I must look. I dropped my hands.

She stared and while pinching the skin on the top of her hand, she laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re just as uncomfortable about this whole situation as I am.”

“Is it that obvious?” I walked over and she slid down the bench and made room for me to sit down. Our legs touched and I wanted to reach out for her, pull her to me, and make her remember how good we were together.

“Really, are you okay?”

“Well, I’m not having a breakdown in case you were wondering.”

“I didn’t think that.”

“I needed to get some air.” She exhaled. “Seeing you, seeing you with Jack is going to take some getting used to.”

“He is such a great kid. You should be proud of how you’ve raised him.”

“Thank you. You don’t think he’s weird?”

“What do you mean weird?”

“Like he’s a little too normal, too well adjusted.”

“No, he’s great.”

“I don’t know. I keep waiting for the ball to drop. I mean look at who his parents are, were.” She bit her lip and I put my hand on her knee. “I’m sorry. I still don’t know how to say that.”

“Have you told him about Josh?”

“No and he hasn’t asked either, which is even more strange.”

“Kids don’t question stuff unless something’s missing in their life. He obviously doesn’t miss having a father.”

“It’s only a matter of time.” She moved her knee away from mine, and I removed my hand and ran it through my hair.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

I waited for her to answer, but she didn’t say anything and I panicked.

“No.” She turned to face me, “But-”

“No wait. No but. Just leave it at no and let’s move on from there, okay?”

She smiled and stared off into the parking lot.

“I wish it was that simple.”

“It can be. We don’t have to make some grand declaration of devotion. We can hang out together. Get to know each other again. Start over. ”

“Start over?” she asked. “After everything we have been through? The shit we have said and done to each other; you think we can start over?”

“We can try.”

“So we hang out.”

“Yeah, you know, go to the movies. Hang out at your place. Help me find a place.”

“And if someone asked me what’s going on between us, I say …”

“We’re just hanging out?”

“Just hanging out, huh.”

“Yeah, exclusively hanging out.”

“Exclusively?”

“As in we only hang out with each other.” 

“You sure about that.” She stood up. “You just moved into town. I’m sure there is a line of Phoenix girls waiting to get a piece of Jackson Mitchell.”

“A line, huh?”

“Yeah, and the women here are aggressive.”

“Oh, yeah.” I stood up.

“And kind of slutty.”

“Well.” I scrunched my brow and stepped closer. “I guess I owe it to them to get out there and see what the city has to offer, right?” I willed myself not to laugh at the disappointed look on her face. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to kiss her.

“I guess, if that’s what you-” I didn’t give her a chance to finish. I snaked my hand around her neck, tilted her head up, and my lips landed on hers. It felt familiar and nice, but at the same time exciting and new. At first, she didn’t kiss me back. She reached up and grabbed my wrist and pulled them from her neck as she stepped out of my grasp. I smiled, stepped with her as I pulled on her hair as a warning to not even think about.

She wasn’t convinced, yet.

I reached down and grabbed her other hand, interlaced our fingers while grabbing her bottom lip between my teeth and giving it little tug, coaxing her into a deeper kiss. She moaned.

I twisted her arm behind her back with my other hand, and pulled her closer. She opened her mouth and my tongue took it as an invitation to explore. I deepened the kiss, but something was off. My mind raced trying to figure it out before the moment ended. This kiss was like the most important kiss in the history of kisses. It could not end until it was perfect. 

Then, it happened.

She grabbed the collar of my shirt and stood on her toes at the same time her tongue glided over my lips and I let out a moan. I needed a hint that she wanted this as much as I did. She gave it to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I pressed into her. I was two seconds away from picking her up and having her amazing legs wrap around my waist, when ...

“Yo, Mitchell. Where’d you learn that move?”

“Yeah, I don’t remember that in the play book.” Two of my teammates chuckled as they headed out the stadium.

Damn.

Carrington pulled away and turned her back. They continued toward the parking lot, laughing their asses off. I looked down at Carrington, and my heart skipped a beat as she smiled up at me.

Even though it ended way too soon, her smile told me all I needed to know.

I laughed as I kissed her on the forehead and led her back into the stadium.

I had left Jack with the group, but when we came back, he sat across the room talking to a couple of my coaches.

“Oh, my God. The kid makes himself at home anywhere.” Carrington said as we watched Jack telling some story and having my coaches crack up.

“I’ll go get him.”

Carrington grabbed my arm.

“Can we take this slow and keep whatever is happening between us,” she paused, looking for the right words, “between us for now. I don’t think either of us needs any undue distractions at the moment.”

“Do I still get to kiss you?”

“When we are alone and not in front of your office.” She dipped her head and said, “Oh yeah.”