Addictive Collision (11 page)

“Patty was a lovely person, I’m sure. I know for a fact that she had good taste,” I said with a comforting smile.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I have lots of emotional baggage too. I thought I’d met the man of my dreams, but he stopped finding me attractive a long time ago, and that was pretty much the end of it. He ignored and neglected me for so long. I should’ve known there was something going on, that he had a lover on the side.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Morgan,” he said. “Any man would be a fool not to find you attractive.”

“Well, not any man,” I said. “Oh, hey, I saw a picture on your mantel, you in all your football gear. What were you? Seventeen?”

“Something like that. I love that picture. I was a quarterback. There’s no greater adrenaline rush than running out onto the field. I’ll never forget it. The crowd cheered, the band played, and the cheerleaders were rooting for us. The whole atmosphere was charged. Those were my glory days, I guess.”

“Tell me more.”

“Well, I was a bit of a Bo Jackson, played both baseball and football. I started for the Mount Oak Central baseball team as an eighth-grader and earned five varsity letters.”

“Wow.”

“I played quarterback, lineman, strong safety, placekicker, and punter in a primarily option, run-oriented offense. My father was the head coach, so I had to be good.”

“Quite the jock, huh?”

“Yeah, but my football dreams fell short. I got married instead of going to college, and that caused a real rift between Dad and me. He was so livid when he found out I had gotten Patty pregnant. When I landed the post office job, I was thrilled to be able to bring home a stable paycheck, but to this day, Dad’s still pissed at me for doing what I wanted to do. I loved football, but it was really more his dream than mine. I love my kids and wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Right. You can’t live someone else’s dream,” I said, patting Foster on the hand. I could feel his sadness and pain, and I hoped he could someday mend the broken bridge between his father and him.

“I mean, I loved sports, and it might have been my dream at first, but things changed. Things just...happened, and I had to go with the flow,” he continued. “I was happy, and I think that’s what matters most, but Dad doesn’t see things that way. I think he even holds it against my kids, like it’s their fault.”

“That’s ridiculous. His grandbabies are beautiful. He should appreciate them.”

“I know. It breaks my heart. My kids are my life.” He paused, then went on, “He said the nastiest thing to me just last week.”

“What?”

“He said, ‘You gave everything up for that woman, and where is Patty now? Dead, that’s where.’ Can you believe that?”

“Gosh, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Foster.”

“Yeah, my father can be a spiteful, hurtful bastard sometimes. My mom is the polar opposite, so sweet. You’d love her. She supports me and loves the children, spoils them rotten.”

I smiled. “That’s what grandmas are for.”

He smiled. “Definitely.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“What?”

“Football?”

“I try to stay around the game where I can. I coach Little League, referee football and softball at the high school, and volunteer to work in the concession stands. I love watching their games and supporting them. I also play on a coed, fast-pitch softball team, and that’s a lot of fun. So, yeah, I’m still getting a little dust in my cleats now and then.”

“That’s so sweet.”

A warm breeze blew across my hair. As I sat there, rocking in the porch swing with him, I felt like I was in high school all over again. I was so giddy, so happy, and I hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.

“So...I know your favorite thing to do on a free Saturday is to spend time with your kids,” he said, “but what’s next on the list?”

“Well, I love to have a beer and watch a game. In person’s a lot better than on the tube.”

“A girl who digs beer and the Sunday game? Somebody please pinch me! I think I’ve died and gone to Heaven.”

We both laughed and began spewing sports stats at one another. I didn’t have a chance to go to sporting events very often, but when I could get my mother to watch the girls, I headed to the ballpark with my sister and our friends. We’d drink, eat hot dogs, and have a blast cheering on our favorite team.

“Next to sports, I’m also a bit of a beach bum,” Foster said. “I love watching a game, but I also love boating, swimming, and hopping on the jet-ski. It’s even better when I get the chance to enjoy it with my kids. We love to play ball, camp out at the lake, or just hang out.”

“Camping? Really? Gosh, I love that—all that fresh air, building a fire, hiking, pitching a tent, and hauling wood. There’s nothing like waking up at dawn in the great outdoors, right? Last year, we took a backpacking trip. My girls carried twelve pounds each on their backs and never once complained. There’s so much to discover, from bugs to pretty leaves or even shells by the lake.”

“Yet another thing in common,” he said.

I smiled. “Yes, and I also love cooking over a campfire, the absolute best way to cook anything. Whether we’re eating pancakes and eggs, hash browns, s’mores, or campfire stew, the food just tastes so darn good. Emma likes her hotdogs and marshmallows a little blacker than I do though.”

He smiled. “It’s great being outdoors, but it’s a lot of hard work. Really works up an appetite.”

Right on cue, Emma burst through the door. “Mom, can we have a snack?”

I smiled at Foster, who smiled back at me. “Honey, it’s getting late. Let’s head home, and I’ll find you something there.”

Foster walked us to the car and we all said our difficult goodbyes after the most wonderful Friday nights I’d had in a long, long time.

J
uliet came over the next day to get all the juicy details, even though there weren’t any. “Not even a goodnight kiss?” she asked.

“Not with my kids with me. Besides, we decided to take it slow. He’s a real gentleman, refuses to mess with a married woman, so I have to wait to be officially divorced.”

“Ah, the infamous friend zone, huh?”

“Just for now. It’s probably the best thing.”

“Well, what was it like to talk to him? I mean, is he easy to talk to, comfortable and natural, or were you all nervous and uneasy?”

“It was great to talk to him, no awkward moments or silence. It helps that we already kind of know each other. He made me laugh, and we had fun cooking dinner.”

“Wait. He helped you cook?”

“Yeah. He fumbled around a bit, but I got him through it.”

She chuckled.

“It was wonderful. We have this connection. We just...click somehow. I feel like I could talk to him for the rest of eternity. I’m not sure if I believe in past lives, but I swear if they do exist, we must have known each other before.”

“Aw. You’re still walking on clouds.”

“Everything seemed magical. I could get lost in those blue eyes of his.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

“It was!”

“It’s great to see you this happy, Morgan.”

“I know. I haven’t felt this way in years.”

“I’ve got some good news of my own,” she said.

“What?”

“Kyle and I are going to move in together,” Juliet declared, squealing in delight.

My jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. He kicked his roommate out, so he’s got a vacancy that needs filled. He asked me because I’m reliable and dependable, and he trusts me.”

I cocked a brow. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“I know it is. It’s...fate.”

“I’m not sure you should live with your crush, Juliet. He already tells you everything. Do you honestly wanna
see
him bringing home women? It’s gonna kill you.”

“It’s okay. I know Kyle is a bit of a, uh...playboy. I’ve decided, for now, to just look at him as my best friend.”

“So you don’t want to date him?”

She bit her lip. “It’s complicated.”

“You shouldn’t move in with a guy you have feelings for, unless he has the same feelings for you too. If you do, it’ll be a train wreck.”

“But he begged me.”

“Of course, because he needs someone to help him pay the rent, and he considers you a best friend,” I said. “Maybe you should tell him everything and see what happens.”

“What if it scares him away?”

“He needs to know, Juliet. How can you pine away for him in secret?”

“I just need to let him be my friend, nothing more, and move on.”

“Yes, but moving in with him isn’t going to help you get over him, and it’s sure not going to help your dating life.”

“It’s just so hard to say no to him. The rent will be so cheap, and he won’t even be there half the time. It’ll be like having my own apartment. Besides, nobody gets along as well as we do.”

“I know your last roommate was a bitch, but...”

“But what? Kyle is so easygoing, and I don’t want to live with a chick again. I can’t deal with all that drama. Men are just easier to live with.”

“Speak for yourself!”

We both laughed.

“Kyle is tall, dark, and handsome,” she said. “He’s perfect.”

I shook my head.

“What?” she asked.

“There’s no such thing. That’s for damn sure. Besides, you don’t need all those qualities in a guy to be extraordinarily happy. Carrie, from
Sex and the City
, was right. It’s not about finding the perfect person. It’s about finding that perfect connection with an imperfect person.” She seemed to be listening intently, so I continued, “You have to find a guy who is perfect for
you
, despite his flaws and shortcomings.”

“I get it. I do. It’s like getting a Wonka bar every week and looking for that golden ticket that I never find.”

“Exactly.”

“But you don’t have a perceived notion of who Mr. Right is?”

“Sure. For starters, it needs to be someone who appreciates you for who you really are.”

“And then...”

“Well, I said. “I want trust, understanding, acceptance, affection, communication, to be romanced, faithfulness, dependability, kindness, passion... I just want a guy who makes me laugh, one who’ll accept me just as I am.”

“That would be wonderful, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. Anyway, I hope we both find our dream guy.”

I grinned. “I think I might have already.”

Juliet smiled back. “Me too.”

I smirked. “You just did not just say that. Look, it’s a mistake to waste your time with Kyle. He’s never going to be perfect for you, because it’s just not who he is. He’s a great friend, and I get that, but you have such a one-track mind when it comes to him.”

“Yeah, yeah, but as they say, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

J
ust as I stepped into the elevator to take some files up, Foster called my name. My heart fluttered at the sight of him.

“Hey! Hold that door. I’ve got a package to deliver upstairs,” he said. “Mind givin’ me a ride?” he asked as he stepped in.

You have no idea how bad I wanna ride you, Mr. Mailman,
I thought but did not say. I pressed the button for the fourth floor. “What a pleasant surprise,” I said. “I thought I missed you when the boss sent me out on errands.”

The elevator stopped abruptly between floors, and Foster caught me when I swayed backward with a jerk.

“What the...?” I pushed the button to open the door, but nothing happened. My eyes widened. “I think we’re stuck.”

He pressed the emergency call button, but that did no good either, so we began banging on the door and yelling. All of it was to no avail.

“I guess we wait it out,” I said. “Somebody will come.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

I looked around at the eight-by-eight prison cell. “Up for a little jailbreak?” I asked.

“Naw, it’s too risky. If we climb out and the thing starts back up, it could crush us or something. Haven’t you ever seen Speed?”

No, but I’ve sure as hell heard “Love in an Elevator,”
I thought.

“Besides, if I’m gonna be in lockup, I wouldn’t mind spending the next ten to twenty with you,” he said.

“You mean minutes, right?”

His eyes lit up. “It doesn’t matter when it comes to a woman as wonderful as you. Heck, I’d take a life sentence, as long as my confinement isn’t...solitary.”

My smile widened, and then I sighed. “I guess we should just sit back and relax. It’ll take maintenance a little while to get us out.”

His gaze drifted to my lips, then back up to my eyes. “I can think of a lot worse things than being stuck in an elevator with a beautiful woman.”

“Right back at ya,” I said, “except, uh...I mean with a hot guy.” I grinned sheepishly and apologized, “Sorry I cut you off last night on the phone. Emma had one of her fits, and I had to deal with it. Sometimes life gets in the way.”

“I completely understand. Becky let the dog out by accident, and we spent two hours looking for him.”

“Oh my gosh! Did you find him?”

“Yeah, he turned up, completely covered in burs and mud.”

“You’re a good dad to go out there and spend hours looking for the kids’ dog.”

“What can I say? That dog is part of the family too. I love the fur-ball.” He glanced around. “So much time to kill.”

“How about a game of truth-or-dare?” I suggested.

“Hmm. I gotta say, that piques my interest,” he said, “especially since we don’t have a bottle to spin.”

“I haven’t played since I was thirteen.”

He winked. “Might be fun.”

I looked at him. “All right. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

I couldn’t stop staring at Foster; it would have been an understatement to call him beautiful. He was so gorgeous that he almost took my breath away. “How bad do you want me?” I asked in a teasing manner.

He met my gaze straight on. “Badly.”

I grinned. “Okay. Your turn.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to...take down your bun,” he ordered.

“Easy enough.” I pulled out my ponytail holder and clips, then shook my mane free. It cascaded down my back, all the way to my waist.

He caressed my hair with long strokes, then let the strands fall through his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Morgan,” he said.