On the Line Read online

  Maybe, but it would never be a bad thing to do more.

  They reached the checkout. It was time to part ways, since she didn’t have anything to buy and he did. He gathered his bananas and the box of tampons he’d set in the baby seat of her cart.

  Tucking his three items under one arm, he held out his other hand. She gladly took it. After the initial jolt, warmth spread through her. She looked up at him. She wasn’t tiny, standing five foot seven, but he made her feel small. He had to be at least six-four.

  Did he feel the attraction too? Or was he just a supremely nice guy with cash to spare? She opened her mouth, the words Would you like to get a drink sometime? on the tip of her tongue. But nerves held her back.

  “Thank you, Carrie. I really appreciate it, and I know Mads will too.” He gave a gentle squeeze, and it electrified her arm. His wide smile electrified the rest of her.

  “My pleasure.” She smiled back, her mind screaming for her to ask him out. But she couldn’t force the words past her throat.

  With a smile and a nod, Seth took his hand back. She could have imagined that he trailed his fingers over her palm. It might not have been deliberate. “Have a good night.” He turned away to get in line.

  Disappointment settled on Carrie’s chest as she pushed her cart out of the store. She should have asked him out. He was kind, he was hot enough to melt her brain, and he was clearly a responsible guy, dedicated to his daughter.

  At least he had her number. Maybe he’d call.

  * * *

  —

  Seth paced the breakfast nook, restless as he waited for his daughter to finish with her…girl things. As he did when forced to think about Mads’ mother, he mentally cursed Jessalyn. He completely understood not wanting the responsibility of a child at nineteen; he sure as hell hadn’t. But she’d made the choice to have their baby. And bailed before Mads’ first birthday.

  But they did well together, he and his girl. Most of the time he was glad they didn’t have to deal with Jessa’s drama. On the rare occasion she contacted him, Jessa wanted money; rarely did she inquire about their daughter.

  But tonight, having a woman around would have been really damn helpful.

  His mind jumped back to the woman at the grocery store. Carrie. His body tightened at the memory of her long red hair and sweet blue eyes. Her hand had felt small but strong in his. And her smile. She’d burned him from the inside out when she smiled.

  He could admit buying her groceries was at least 10 percent thinking with his dick. Not that he thought she owed him if he did. He’d wanted to do something nice for the most beautiful woman he’d seen since moving to Milwaukee three months ago.

  Then she’d turned around and saved his ass.

  He took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up her contact information. He could call her. Ask her out for a drink. Spend some time getting to know her, listening to her talk in that smooth, slightly husky voice. She’d mentioned being a teacher, and he bet all her male students had crushes on her.

  But maybe he’d imagined the attraction in her eyes. He was definitely interested in her, and her smiles and body language had seemed to say she returned the interest. But who knew?

  Jesus, the scene in Houston had spoiled him. Being a star linebacker meant he had women throwing themselves at him. He got daily marriage proposals on social media. For his first few years in the NFL, he’d taken advantage of his celebrity status. His parents watched Mads for the most part, and he partied like a rock star.

  Or a football star.

  But that lifestyle got old fast. Somewhere during his third season, he realized he wanted better for himself, and for his daughter. So he devoted himself to the two things he loved most: football and Mads.

  He still had no problem getting dates when he wanted. He had relationships. But he rarely had to do much pursuing. Women made it known they were interested.

  This insecure infatuation was something he hadn’t felt since high school, when he wasn’t even a starter on the football team. He hadn’t gotten a scholarship, and had to go as a walk-on at the University of Texas, less than ten miles from where he’d grown up. There he’d quickly become Somebody, and had been ever since.

  But hell, he hadn’t gotten where he was in life by waiting for things to happen. If he wanted something, he went after it.

  His thumb hovered over the call button, and he was about to tap it when Mads walked in.

  His gut sank, but he locked his phone and shoved it in his back pocket. “Hey. Everything go…OK?”

  She stared at her feet, at her hands, at the floor, at the counter. Anywhere but at him. “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  Shit. This sucked.

  He cleared his throat. How did he cut through the awkwardness and get back to the easy, comfortable relationship they’d always had?

  They were always honest with each other, so maybe that’s what they needed here. “Look, Mads. I know this situation sucks. I’m sorry. Some things are gonna be awkward. If it helps, this is really weird for me too.”

  She wandered into the adjoining living room and flopped onto the couch. “It’s really OK, Dad. I FaceTimed Sophie.”

  Seth followed her into the living room area of their open kitchen-living-dining room and sat in the armchair facing her. “Good. I’m glad you have her to talk to. You’ll make friends here in no time.”

  His trade to the Dragons had been rough on Mads. She’d asked to stay in Houston and live with his parents, but he couldn’t put that burden on them. And dammit, he was her father.

  As a compromise, he’d let her spend a final summer in Texas with her grandparents and friends. So while he’d moved in June, as soon as the trade was a done deal, Mads had only come a week ago. He was damn glad to have her.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Her voice lacked conviction.

  Of all the days to get her first period, the night before her first day at a new school had to suck the most.

  “I’ve gotta be at practice until late tomorrow. Sarah is going to pick you up.” They’d been over this already, but he didn’t know what else to say to her. In Houston, his parents had taken care of her when he was out of town or had late practice. Since it hadn’t occurred to him until two weeks ago that he needed someone to do that here, he hadn’t yet found someone willing to be a twelve-year-old’s nanny.

  Sarah, the wife of his friend and now teammate Lemalu Feu’u, was generously helping until he hired someone. He’d known Lem since they played together at the University of Texas, and he’d known Sarah since she started dating Lem their junior year. He trusted them almost as much as he did his parents.

  “I know.” Mads didn’t roll her eyes, but it was implied in her tone. She fussed with a strand of her light brown hair, inspecting the end for who-knew-what.

  He should be going over his playbook. He’d spent the summer not only in the grueling workouts of training camp but also learning a whole new system. Now it was week one of the regular season and he had to know his shit.

  Sometimes, though, Mads was more important. “Remember, it’s a strange week. We play the Thursday night game, so I leave on Wednesday.” He hated playing on Thursdays. Routine was everything. Ritual. Playing any day except Sunday screwed him up. The only thing that made it not a complete clusterfuck was that all the players on both teams were equally thrown off their routine.

  She stood up, not looking at him. “I know. You’ve only reminded me, like, a million times.” She started out of the room. “I’m going to bed.”

  “This early?” It was still an hour before his mandated lights-out.

  “I got some new comics I want to read. Night, Dad.”

  “I love you, Madison.”

  “Umm, you too.”

  Seth stared after her long after she disappeared. No “I love you too”? When he left Texas at the beginning of the su
mmer, she’d been the sweet, devoted girl she’d always been.

  Why the hell had his parents sent him this moody, distant impostor?

  * * *

  —

  Carrie pulled into the visitor’s spot in her brother’s parking garage, tugged her laundry bag out of the trunk of her car, and lugged it to the elevator. Because she was on a tight budget, Jason let her come over every week to use his washer and dryer so she didn’t have to pay for the laundromat.

  She rode the elevator to his fifth-floor loft and let herself in. As she shut the door behind her, her phone pinged to signal a new text message.

  Seth?

  Her pulse stuttered at the idea the sexy single dad might be contacting her so soon. Though it was likely about his daughter, not asking her out.

  “Hey, Jace!” she called as she headed for his tiny laundry room. He was undoubtedly using his laptop on the couch and watching ESPN, his unofficial home office setup. He was a talent scout for the Milwaukee Dragons, the local NFL team. Watching sports news was an actual job requirement.

  After starting her first load, Carrie leaned back against the dryer to check her message. On the off chance Seth had sent a flirty text, she didn’t want to read it in front of her big brother.

  But the message was from her landlord.

  Evan: Letting you know I sold the house, closing 9/28. New owner won’t be renting, so you need to be out by 9/27. Sorry!

  Carrie read the text three more times before the words started to sink in. Evan, who lived in the upstairs apartment while she occupied the downstairs, told her he had put the house on the market. But he’d sworn he was looking for someone who would let her stay.

  Since she’d lived there for five years, and after two they’d given up on her formally signing a lease, she had no legal standing to protest. Which was her own damn fault for trusting Evan not to screw her over.

  And the jerk hadn’t even had the balls to come down and tell her when she’d been home putting away her groceries and grabbing her dirty clothes. His car had been in the driveway, so he’d been home.

  “Fuck.” She had no income, dwindling savings, and less than four weeks to find a new place to live.

  Tears scratched at the back of her eyes as she shoved her phone back into her purse and headed for the living room.

  “Hey,” Jason mumbled distractedly as she flopped into the armchair that matched his black leather sofa. As she’d guessed, he was on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, pen between his teeth, notebook on the cushion next to him, and a preseason football game on the TV.

  Carrie didn’t bother checking who was playing. Despite her older brother being the star of their high school team, a starter at the University of Texas, and now a scout for the Dragons, she’d never cared about football. She knew who most of the best Milwaukee players were, and the handful of celebrity players from other teams—everyone knew Tom Brady and Aaron Rodgers—but most players could walk by her on the street and she wouldn’t have a clue. So her interest in a preseason game was negative.

  And right now she really needed to talk to her big brother. “Before we start Walking Dead, can we talk?”

  Jason nodded distractedly. He took the pen out of his mouth to jot down something. “I’m almost done. There’s curry in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks.” She was famished, so she didn’t bother asking what kind. She wasn’t picky. And it had been so late when she finally got home with her groceries, she’d skipped making something, despite it being the reason she’d gone in the first place. Big brother to the rescue again.

  She served herself a plate of Thai red chicken curry and rice, got a beer from the refrigerator, and resumed her seat. She didn’t let herself think about her housing predicament, because she’d work herself into a circle of panic. Whereas if she talked it out with Jason, she’d force herself to stay calm and rational.

  She took a long drink of her Sprecher Black Bavarian, her favorite local brew, which Jason kept on hand. When she set the bottle on the side table, she looked up to find him watching her.

  “What’s up?”

  The drone of the announcers’ voices had disappeared. She glanced at the TV to see the game paused, a player hanging in midair, the football inches from his outstretched hands.

  If he’d paused an in-progress game, Jason must have realized how upset she was. And here she thought she’d hidden it well.

  He set his laptop on the table in front of him and leaned back into the cushions. “It’s Saturday’s game. Not live.”

  Of course. She should have known better.

  “You having a rough night since school starts tomorrow?”

  “No. I thought I would, but no.” Meeting Seth had held off some of the melancholy she surely would have otherwise felt. She’d avoided her best friend Amy’s texts all weekend, not wanting to hear about her back-to-school preparations and complaints. Teaching wasn’t Carrie’s dream job, but she enjoyed it more than most people seemed to enjoy their jobs. And she really liked having a paycheck.

  “Surprisingly perceptive of you, though,” she teased, her attempt to keep the mood light.

  Jason rolled his eyes. “I have my moments.”

  “I got a text from Evan. He sold the house and I have to be out by the twenty-seventh.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, then she shoved a chunk of chicken in to prevent herself from wailing or letting loose a string of profanities.

  “Shit. That sucks.”

  She made a noise of agreement.

  Weighty silence hung in the air as Carrie ate and Jason looked at the ceiling, a sign he was thinking hard. Finally he huffed out his breath. “I mean, if you need to, you can stay here, but…”

  He spread his hands to indicate the couch. His condo was spacious for a single guy, but there was no extra bedroom. She’d be stuck on his couch. At best, she could fit a twin-sized air mattress in the corner. It would be better than homelessness, or moving up north to live with their parents. But it was far from preferable.

  Six months ago, she’d been saving every extra penny from her paycheck to buy her own house. Now she was unemployed, had burned through her down payment money and most of her savings, and was about to be evicted.

  She let out a yell-growl of frustration. “How did everything get so fucked up?” She wanted to throw her fork across the room, but Jason’s silverware didn’t deserve the abuse. Besides, she had better uses for a fork, like stabbing Evan in his cowardly, traitorous face.

  “I suppose with school starting, you’re out of luck finding a new teaching job, huh?” Jason leaned forward, elbows on knees. He still had a thoughtful expression, but it did no good to press him until he decided to say whatever was stewing in his head.

  Appetite gone, Carrie took her half-eaten dinner to the kitchen, which was part of the same open room as the living and dining rooms. She loved her brother’s loft, especially the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. At least if she had to live with him temporarily, the view would be included.

  “I still have one job I haven’t heard back from. Ninth-grade earth science at a private school way out in Waukesha.” The suburban school was much more upper-crust than the Milwaukee public school kids she was used to. The pay wasn’t as good and she hadn’t liked the headmaster or the science division chair during her interview the previous week. But it was a job. “I should hear soon. I can’t imagine they want to get too far into the year without a teacher.”

  Jason nodded absently. “I can ask at the stadium. We’re probably hiring event staff.”

  “Great, I’ll be a hot dog vendor!” Fake enthusiasm made her words come out overly bright. She knew teachers who worked second jobs as food vendors at the various sports arenas around town. But she’d rather work retail. Which was looking more and more like a possibility.

  “What
can you do besides teach?”

  He’d tried to initiate this conversation back in April, when she’d been notified she was being laid off. But she’d been certain she could find another job. After all, science teachers were in demand. Except in southeastern Wisconsin, apparently.

  “Sew superhero costumes.” It made her a total nerd, but hey, as a science teacher, she was already pretty nerdy. And in her spare time, she did cosplay. Usually as the Batman villainess Poison Ivy, herself a redheaded scientist. While there was probably a market for seamstresses who could make complicated custom outfits, Carrie’s skills weren’t that good. She only sewed the parts she couldn’t buy.

  “You make a mean apple crisp,” Jason added.

  “Perfect. I’ll be a crisp baker.”

  “What about…” He pinched up his face like he didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  “What about what?” Anything was worth considering. Well, almost anything. If he suggested she try out for the Dragons, it was a wasted conversation.

  “You remember my friend Lainie?”

  “Your college roommate? Sure.” They’d been teammates and best friends, but because Jason had gone to school so far from home, she’d never met the guy. He and Jason were still friends, but Lainie was still playing in the NFL—in Texas, maybe?—last she’d heard. What did that have to do with her?

  “He just got traded to the Dragons.”

  “That’s great.” Still had nothing to do with her getting a job.

  “He’s looking for a nanny. I don’t know what it pays, but I can find out.”

  A nanny? For a rich football family? Could she do that?