Though she was loathe to admit it, Natalie had missed this motley crew of giants. Sure, they’d always been easy on the eyes and charming beyond measure, in the way most superstar athletes were, but they also genuinely cared about her.
Always had.
Even if she’d up and left their best friend for no reason.
They were loyal to Blake, so she’d felt self-conscious and awkward about seeing them today. But it had quickly become clear that they were doing their best to be nice to her. She could almost hear their pact. If Blake wanted her back, they were going to support him one hundred percent. Even if she’d been a bitch.
Grant picked her up from behind, making her scream. “I’m going to toss you over to Zack.”
They’d played this game with her many times. And yes, sometimes it was fun, but she was supposed to be working. She tickled his ribs, and he immediately let her go and released a high-pitched giggle.
“Hey, now, no need to be mean,” he said, putting plenty of space between them.
“I swear, if the guys in the league knew you were this ticklish, they wouldn’t have to tackle you.”
Brody advanced on him, and Natalie knew to get out of the way. A tickle fight was about to commence. She felt a strange sort of pride for having started it.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Grant raved, but Brody, Logan, and Jordan rushed him, and soon the defensive lineman was running for his life across the yard with the others in hot pursuit. Touchdown raced after them, barking in short bursts.
Zack and Hunter exchanged looks.
“Guess we should probably follow them,” Hunter said. “They might run into a bear and get mauled.”
Zack snorted. “I’d love to see that.”
Natalie put her hands on her hips. “It’s time for lunch, so you’d best bring them back while the food is hot.”
Not that the chafing dishes wouldn’t do their job, but she knew these guys. Once they started horsing around, it was hard to get their attention until hunger descended. Then they turned into a pack of starving wolves. She didn’t plan on letting things unravel to that state of affairs.
“Yes, ma’am,” Zack said with a salute. “We’ll bring them back. And your little dog too. Assuming Grant still has his pants on.”
She shook her head. “Like I haven’t seen his ass before. How many times do you think you’ve pulled this sort of random crap around me?”
Hunter burst out laughing. “A lot. Not that we’ve ever pantsed Sam.”
No, no one would dare strip Sam’s pants off. “How many times have you gotten Blake?” She’d seen it happen at least twice. Both times had made her hot. And that was so not something she needed to be thinking about right now.
Zack scratched his goatee. “Probably a half dozen. He’s not the fastest, but he has pretty impressive evasion tactics.”
“And he’s mean,” Hunter added.
Yeah, Blake didn’t go down without a fight.
“All right,” she said. “Go get those morons and tell them it’s time to eat.”
She hated to sound like their mom, but this had always been her role with them, and it felt natural. At least she wouldn’t have to clean up after them this weekend. A few of them could be downright pigs.
Blake stuck his head through the open door as Zack and Hunter jogged off in the direction of Grant’s high-pitched giggles.
“Who are they pantsing?” he asked with a grin.
“Grant. He was going to toss me around, so I tickled him. It devolved from there.”
He strode forward, his sandy brown hair gleaming in the afternoon sunshine. Sometimes looking at Blake was blinding. It wasn’t just the mega-watt power of his grin. No, it was the easy power that radiated through his whole body, as natural as the electricity that ran through a house.
“So, you’re the instigator, huh?” he asked, standing beside her. “It’s good to have the guys here. I really appreciate you taking care of the food, Nat.”
She could feel the pull of other memories—various weekends when they’d hosted the guys together, as a unit. Her walls rose a few inches as an unwanted sense of yearning rolled through her.
“The Grand Mountain Hotel took care of the food,” she heard herself saying. “I was only the executor.”
When he didn’t say anything, she stole a glance at him. He was frowning.
“I thought we were friends again,” he said in a soft voice, one she had to strain to hear over the racket from Grant and the guys.
A pressure rose in her chest. “We are.” But how exactly could she backtrack to being friends with her ex-husband, particularly when she knew he wanted more?
He turned his head and stared into her eyes. She met his gaze and didn’t blink since he didn’t. There was hurt there, yes, but determination too.
“Guess who’s got Grant’s pants?” Jordan called out, emerging into view with a pair of tan shorts held high in his hands. “Too bad I can’t tweet this out.”
She drew her gaze away from Blake to watch Jordan catapult over one of the deck chairs like he was jumping into the end zone on a quarterback sneak. Everyone had agreed their gatherings were to take place in a cone of silence. If other people saw them out and about and tweeted about it, well, that was another thing.
“Do you want to hide Grant’s pants or should I?” Jordan asked them, shaking the article in his hand.
Like she’d touch them. “If you’re going to hide them, you’d better do it quick,” Natalie said. “They’re coming back.”
Sure enough, Grant was running toward the porch in nothing but his form-fitting black athletic shirt and a pair of navy underwear, his massive legs as big as tree trunks. The other guys were jogging behind him, laughing so hard they could barely keep up. Touchdown was now doing mad circles around his buddies. He was as out of control as the rest of them.
“I’m going to cut you, Jordan!” Grant called out as Jordan darted into the house. “Sorry about my appearance, Natalie.”
He didn’t blush—after all, these men were accustomed to using locker rooms—but he did cross his hands over his crotch. At least they’d only taken his pants. Sometimes the guys went a bit further.
“Grant!” Blake shouted. “Go put on another pair of pants. We have women around.”
“Shit. Right. Sorry again, Nat.”
“I’ll…ah…finish setting up if you can referee these guys into shape,” she told Blake, heading inside. “Good luck with that.”
It was hard not to admire the sheer perfection of Grant’s butt as he jogged into the house. Sure enough, her two female assistants stared at him as he came inside. Who could blame them? Grant was all muscle—every woman’s dream.
As she’d expected, her staff already had the food laid out buffet style in the kitchen, just like the guys usually preferred. Thick cuts of ham and prime rib filled the room with a delicious savory scent, which mingled pleasantly with the aroma of her famous dill-infused sour cream potato salad. A mountain of cheese and fruit lay on the four platters her staff had brought in. And of course, her special cheese dip was showcased in the center of a chip bowl.
Sam cocked his head at her as he grabbed a cube of Swiss cheese. “You’ve outdone yourself as usual.”
She patted one of her assistants on the back. “Thanks for setting this up. Everything looks great. You guys can head out.”
That earned her a forlorn look, but her helpers traipsed out the front, which was probably for the best. Through the windows, she could see Brody and Logan bent over at the waist, guffawing with abandon. And this was only the beginning. By Sunday night, everyone would be completely out of control in the best way possible. When they got together, they tended to devolve into the little boys they used to be at football camp.
“Do you know what the Smuck award is on this trip?” she asked Sam.
“No, but Jordan was in charge of it, and he says it’s a doozy.” He shook his head. “They’re already losing it.”
“And you love every minute of it,” she said, tempted to grab a piece of smoked mozzarella from the platter. Smoked gouda was yummy, but smoked mozzarella was something else altogether.
“Usually,” Sam said, coming to stand beside her. “Not when they stick lizards in my bed.”
Yeah, she remembered that weekend at Logan’s cabin in Nevada. It was the reason she’d imposed the no-live-animals-or-insects-in-the-house rule for when she and Blake hosted.
“How’s your mom?” she asked, thinking of how interconnected her life had been with Blake’s. She hadn’t just known these guys; she’d known their families. And Jordan’s girlfriend, Grace, had become a real friend. That had all disappeared, and she suddenly felt that loss keenly.
“Mom’s great. Said to say hello if I saw you.” He paused. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I would see you.”
Since she hadn’t planned to visit with them until Blake had asked her to help with the food, she only nodded. “I’m glad it worked out.”
“Me too.” He popped another piece of cheese in his mouth.
“So, what do you think about Blake retiring?” she ventured to ask, trying to appear casual by straightening one of the chafing pans.
“I don’t think that’s the right question.”
Busted. Leave it to Sam to cut to the chase. “Okay, why don’t you tell me what you think about what he’s done?”
“You know as well as I do that he didn’t retire from football simply because Adam died.” Resting with his back against the kitchen island, he gave her his complete attention. “Natalie, you cut him open with a chainsaw when you left, and he’s never gotten over you.”
She couldn’t repress a gasp. “Well…don’t mince words, Sam.”
“You asked. After seeing everything he’s gone through lately, I’m going to give it to you straight.” His eyes locked with hers. “He would do anything for you—even give up football. If you don’t see that, and if you don’t value it, then you’re not as smart as I always thought you were.”
His opinion had always meant a lot, but this level of honesty made her legs tremble. “So you think I should take him back?”
He let out a long sigh. “Only if you love him like he loves you. Otherwise, give him the closure he needs to move on with his life. He’s a good man. Don’t muzzle him, Natalie, just because you’re scared.”
“Scared? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even to her ears, it sounded like pure bravado.
“After years of playing ball, I know when someone’s scared, and that’s what I see when I look at you.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I know you suffered a great loss when your friend died, but that wasn’t Blake’s fault. He only wanted to help you, and you were too scared to let him.”
Her mouth parted at his insight. How much had Blake told him? “You don’t know anything.”
“He grieved for Kim too, you know, and now with Adam…he needs our support, and he hasn’t been afraid to ask for it. The minute he asked for help with his football camp, we all rearranged our schedules to be there. And we’re here this weekend, just like we’ve been there a dozen other weekends since you left him.”
She felt like slime, and it was becoming so normal, you’d think she’d be used to it by now. “I’m glad you guys have been there for him.”
“Why haven’t you been?” His brow cocked in pure challenge. “You’re like one of the players on the team who distances himself from everyone else when he’s going through a tough time—on or off the field. I know those guys. You have the same desperate look in your eyes. There’s nothing wrong with needing someone when you’ve hit bottom, Natalie. The people who know when to ask for help are stronger than the ones who insist on standing alone. Does Blake look weak to you?”
No, but he looked lonely and unsure and vulnerable, and seeing him like that sometimes scared her. She didn’t want anyone to think those things of her. Ever.
“Your eyesight must be getting poor if you see anything desperate about me.” She rubbed the tightness around her diaphragm, scarcely able to breathe. “I’m not a football player, Sam. You’re comparing apples and oranges here.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve learned a football team is a microcosm of society, and I’ve pretty much seen it all after playing the sport for nearly thirty years.”
“A microcosm of society? What have you been reading?”
“The classics.” His hand squeezed her shoulder. “Natalie, I’ve always liked you. For a long time, I thought you were the best woman in the world for Blake. But I love him, and you’ve put him through hell. Don’t expect to erase all of that by showing up here with smiles and your cheese dip. The only thing that will do that is your honesty. I hope you’ll find the courage inside you to make the right choice.”
Then he kissed her cheek and walked over to the patio door. “Hey! Enough caterwauling,” he called. “Let’s chow.”
As the men hustled inside, Touchdown trailing behind them, she cleared her throat and tried to compose herself. The guys grabbed plates and started loading up on the food, and Grant reappeared fully clothed. He’d found a permanent marker somewhere and written on his shirt: No Pants=War.
She stepped back and bumped into a tall, hard body. Even though all of these men had hard bodies, honed by their sport, she knew instantly it was Blake. Her bottom had always fit perfectly into the curve of his pelvis. Then there was his smell: man, leather, and spice.
Feeling off balance, and not just from Sam’s comments, she turned around. His brown eyes searched her face.
“Everything okay?”
She forced a smile. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I saw you talking to Sam. You looked upset.”
Upset was too tame a word. “I’m fine. I’ll leave you all to it. We’ll bring over brunch tomorrow, like we arranged.”
He laid his hand on her forearm, and her skin puckered at that one simple touch. “Don’t let him bother you. He’s…loyal to me, that’s all.”
All the guys were, but she respected Sam’s opinion the most. He had always been the voice of wisdom for their group. So his words had cut her down to size, and it had hurt, even if she’d deserved it.
“Have fun.” She tried to walk by him, but he grabbed her hand.
“Thanks, Nat.” The light in his eyes suggested he was talking about more than her role in preparing the food. Right now, she couldn’t deal with that. She could barely deal with her own pain and confusion. His overwhelmed her.
“See you guys tomorrow.” She gave a lackluster wave as she backed up to the door. “If one of you lands in jail, do not call me.”
They laughed as she let herself out. Touchdown didn’t follow her, which wasn’t a surprise. He adored Blake’s friends. Walking across the bridge back to her place in the silence, tracing the infinity symbols engraved in the wood, she remembered how Blake had described this construction.
The bridge to a better life.
As she reached her own house, part of her felt like she’d left her one and only chance behind her.