Authors: Stephanie Evanovich
“I see you still have your coat on, so why don’t we take this outside?” Tyson suggested, not smiling anymore but still congenial.
Dani led Tyson through the house but not before catching her father squinting at them with one eye open as he lay back in his recliner. He gave her a little smile and closed both eyes to resume his nap.
When they reached the kitchen door, Danza looked up from the apples she was paring for applesauce.
“I hope you stay for dinner, Tyson. It’s lasagna night.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss it,” Tyson replied before placing a hand on each of her shoulders and whispering into Danza’s ear, “We’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck.”
Dani had only been gone for a few hours, but it seemed that was more than adequate time for him to win them all over.
It was sunny in Ardmore that day, but the winter chill was still in the air, and the ground was frozen with patches of ice. The crisp coldness outdoors felt good on Dani’s suddenly flushed face. Tyson waited patiently with his hands in his pockets as she struggled to find the right words. Or any words.
“Does he know?” she managed to rasp out, glancing back toward the house.
“If you mean did I storm in here and force a five-year-old to start calling a complete stranger ‘Daddy,’ the answer is definitely no. For one thing, your mother would have hit me upside the head with one of those pots.”
A small laugh bubbled out of her, and Dani finally found the courage to meet his gaze. Without Brendon acting as a buffer, she fully expected to be met with anger, but all she could read on his face was determination.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first . . . at first I didn’t know what to do,” she stammered haplessly.
The words sounded ridiculous, even to her. He must have agreed, because he threw his hands in the air with disgust.
“Damn it, Dani! You were supposed to do what all Americans do! You were supposed to file for child support and at least make sure our kid gets what he deserves!” he shouted before lowering his voice. “And what about me? You were supposed to give me my chance to do the right thing.”
“Not at the expense of our son. What if you really hadn’t changed?” she answered sadly, preferring to get right to the point. “I didn’t need you financially to make a nice life for Brendon. I knew he would get strong male role models without you. My dad and brothers adore him. Plus you did get your shot. That first time I approached you and you didn’t recognize me.”
“Everything about you had changed.”
“I did what I thought I had to . . .” Her voice trailed off. There were no more lame excuses for her to offer.
“Even if I didn’t recognize you at first . . . what about later? You had no right to keep it from me, especially after it was clear where we were headed.”
“I know. I know!” Tears stung her eyes. “I messed up bad. First I let all my anger get in the way. Then after the fly thing happened I was embarrassed and scared to death that you’d be hell-bent on revenge. By the time I realized that wasn’t the case, you were already saying and doing all the right things, and I . . . I didn’t want that to end.”
She knew she was dancing all around the real issue, so she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“I wanted you to love me the way I loved you, before Brendon. When I finally started getting my wish, I was afraid that once you found out, everything would change. I know now all my choices were the wrong ones. I have no right to ask you for forgiveness.”
“Don’t you think it’s up to me to decide if I can forgive you?”
“I got the impression you had made that decision the minute you called me a cab. Are you trying to tell me you’ve had a change of heart?”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because, Dani, there are some things that are too big to stay mad over. Or in this particular case, too little, like that beautiful little boy in there. We’ve already lost too much time.”
Dani knew she should’ve been relieved. This was the best of all possible outcomes. He was there, once again saying and doing all the right things. But now that all the drama was over, all that was left was the cleanup. She stared down at her feet, so emotionally drained it was hard to even look up at him.
“Of course, I don’t recall you once saying you were sorry.” He faked a pout.
She tried to look him in the eye but was afraid if she did so, she would crumble and he’d feel the obligation to make it better. “I’m so sorry, Tyson. I wish I could go back and do things differently.”
“You know, they say you’re supposed to forgive people for your own sake, not for theirs. But I can honestly say I’ve never met someone who needed forgiveness more than you. It’s written all over your face. I accept your apology, Dani. Now I really want you to let it all go. We have a son to raise, he deserves the best his parents can give him.”
“We’re going to have to tell him.” She pulled her coat around her to ward off the chill that was now invading not only her body, but also her soul.
“Nope, not we. You. But right after you do, I’m going to ask his permission to marry you.”
For almost a decade she had daydreamed that Tyson would propose to her. True, there were times when the dream included ruthlessly shooting him down and making him beg. But now she sadly shook her head and swallowed another round of unshed tears. “I can’t marry you, Tyson. Not now. It would be for all the wrong reasons. I know you’re only stepping up because you think you’re supposed to. We don’t need to subject each other to that. I don’t want to keep you from Brendon. Lots of couples make custody work. We’ll be good at it. We have a common goal.”
Tyson was having none of it and swiftly closed the distance between them. He took her head in both of his hands and tenderly lifted her face up until she was looking into his.
“For way too long now, I’ve kept my distance from people. Not because I didn’t think they were worthy, but because I didn’t think I was. Of all the gifts I got to make me whole, the biggest one was presented to me on a night I didn’t remember. I don’t want to spend one more day without you. I started to ask you before I knew about Brendon. Finding out about him is just God’s way of telling me that it’s the right call. Darlin’, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to spend the rest of my life swinging from your heartstrings.”
How was she supposed to argue with that kind of logic? He lifted her off her feet, kissing her until all her worries began to melt away. By the time he set her back down, she didn’t want to debate him on anything.
“I guess I can take that as a yes?” he asked while she caught her breath.
She nodded, and he pulled her back to kiss her again. Then he held up her hand. “I didn’t come with a ring because I didn’t want to pressure you. I thought it’d be nice if we picked one out together.”
“I don’t need a ring,” she told him, unconcerned now about the tears running down her cheeks.
“Don’t be ridiculous. If anyone has earned a flashy ring, it’s you. Let’s make it the gaudiest one we can find.”
They heard the storm door slam and turned to see Brendon, his winter coat, hat, and mittens on, standing on the back porch.
“Danza told me to tell you that dinner is in twenty minutes,” Brendon announced with a call across the yard. “And I can’t find Optimus Prime!”
Dani and Tyson looked briefly at each other and smiled. Their new journey had officially begun.
“Coming!” Dani called, slipping her hand into Tyson’s, and together they made their way back to the house.
“How long did it take Marcus to find out my address?” Dani asked as they walked.
“Longer than you’d expect,” Tyson replied, giving her hand a squeeze. “We had to resort to drastic measures, mainly shaking down Clinton Barrow.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like Marcus’s style. He likes to rock the boat more than he’d ever admit. So what did you guys do, put a gun to Barrow’s head?” She was only half joking.
“Close. I told him if he didn’t me tell how to find you, I wouldn’t make a single throw in our last game. Marcus was more than willing to back me up. Barrow’s counteroffer was that he would tell us, but only if we won.”
“That’s the worst wager ever. What if you lost?”
Tyson rolled his eyes before snickering. “Come on. We weren’t losing. And I knew he was going to tell me either way. He just wanted to give us all a little time to let the dust settle and get his trophy.”
“And if he called your bluff?”
“Then I guess I was going to spend the entire day getting sacked. I figured it was a win-win. If you weren’t moved by the sight of me taking that kind of beating, then we probably didn’t belong together.”
“I didn’t watch the game at all,” Dani said with a smidge of guilt.
“I think it’s on tape somewhere if you really care,” Tyson replied with a laugh, wrapping his arm around her.
IT WAS A
rare quiet May evening in the Northwest Hills of Austin, a Sunday oddly enough. But the whole weekend had been a tad on the strange side. Dani Carr had been in a writing frenzy the entire time. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d been asked to tell a story. About a football team that was willing to throw away a winning season, and then won it all for no good reason. The publisher that approached her with the offer of a ghostwriter was quickly rebuffed. There was nobody who could tell the whole story better than Dani herself, she told them. And she was mildly surprised when they agreed to let her have a shot at it.
Tyson was so proud of her, even if he did grumble about having to share his precious off-time with her new obsession. On July 1, he’d be starting his new job with the league’s own broadcasting channel, a contract Tyson was sure was proffered based on his own merits and not because it was part of anyone else’s grand plan. Another bonus—he’d be doing the play-by-play for Philadelphia. It was the only thing that kept him in Danza’s good graces. Home games guaranteed he would arrive to work with his family in tow.
But none of that meant anything to Brendon, who had spent the better part of Saturday and all of Sunday getting various nods and absentminded hugs, but no meaningful attention from his preoccupied mother. Take-out containers from their dinner were still gathered near the kitchen sink.
“What’s the matter, Bren?” Tyson asked as soon as he saw the youngster sulking and loitering near the arm of the sofa where he was stretched out watching the NFL draft.
“Mommy’s mad at me. And I miss Danza,” was the forlorn answer.
“Want to go in the pool?” Tyson offered in consolation, but Brendon just shook his head and made a face.
“Can’t. I already took a bath and Mommy said it’s almost bedtime.” He gave the leg of the couch a tiny kick in protest.
“She’s right,” Tyson said, standing up and walking over to the kitchen counter to the spot where he kept not only his worn football, but also a smaller, softer Nerf version. “Let’s play with footballs.”
He brought both balls back to the couch, handing Brendon his while he sat back down.
“She looks so mad.” He looked like he might start to cry, and Tyson could feel his heart once again start to melt.
Tyson started tossing the football in his hand, spinning it into midair, where it would stay suspended for a few seconds, spiraling the whole time, before dropping back down into his large hand. It was a motion Brendon imitated with his smaller football. He tried to duplicate his father’s skill, but it was still much more fun to watch. With his miniature football tight in his hand, Brendon cuddled up alongside Tyson on the couch.
“That look isn’t for us, partner,” Tyson said low and conspiratorially, wrapping an arm around his son to pull him in close, the other launching the football into the air in front of them again, much to the young boy’s delight. “That look is definitely for the computer. Mom wants to make sure she gets every word about Marcus right.”
The five-year-old was satisfied with that explanation, and he began to yawn. It was exhausting going to a new kindergarten and running around football fields with your dad. Not to mention swimming and going down the pool slide until he was wrinkled as a prune. Within a matter of minutes all Tyson could hear was Brendon’s deep even breathing.
“Hey, lady,” Tyson called in a hushed tone across the room. “What’s a guy in this house have to do to get a little attention?”
Dani looked up to the sight she was sure she would never get tired of seeing.
“Are my boys feeling neglected?” she asked with a hint of a grin, glancing over at the clock on the microwave.
“I can’t speak for our son, but I could sure use a few of your smiles. Maybe your naughty one.”
That was all the motivation she needed. She closed the lid on her laptop.
There were so many things that made Tyson a good father and husband. One of the best things was his ability to carry a sleeping future quarterback up a flight of stairs with no effort.
“I’m so glad I kept you around,” Dani remarked after noting once more just how tall Brendon was growing by how far his once tiny legs dangled from Tyson’s arms. “He’s getting so big.”