Charlie, who he thought was somewhere around four, logrolled away from the field, coming to a stop against his feet. “Hey, up there.”
Stephen smiled. “Hey, down there.”
“I want an ICEE.”
“Not yet,” Matt answered before Stephen had a chance to say something like, Sure.
He scanned the soccer field until he found his niece. A few inches taller than the other girls, she kicked and battled among disorganized clumps of red and blue jerseys.
“You better go say hi to your mother. You’re on the bottom, you know.”
He smiled at Matt’s reminder of the board Lizzy had kept as kids, listing them in order of Mom’s most favorite to least. His smile wavered when he glanced toward the bleachers and saw the majority of the McKinney clan cheering. Damn. Should have known a whole pack of them would’ve turned out for the seven-year-old’s soccer match.
His stomach took a sudden dive. Dave’s mom had cancer and for the better part of five years he’d avoided his own. But still, he hoped their smiles weren’t so large and hugs not so tight. It embarrassed him. Reminded him of all the times he hadn’t been here, that they hadn’t expected him to be here now.
“Where’s Abby?”
“She took Gracie out to ride horses.”
A funny feeling tightened in his stomach, then spread to his chest. It had only been three days since he’d said goodbye on her porch. It seemed like longer. That very fact had him holding himself back.
He wanted her with a growing desperation, but beyond that—there was no beyond that for him.
“Yeah, they went— Go! Go, baby girl!” Matt erupted at the sight of his oldest breaking away from the pack.
So at odds with the Navy SEAL brother who’d jumped out of planes and snuck up on the enemy in the dead of night. The I could kill you with a Q-tip guy. But he’d never seen his brother happier. Just another reason he’d distanced himself from all of them. It hurt. And it scared him. Loving someone had brought out the worst in him. Had shown him the dark places inside him that he hadn’t known were there and never wanted to see again.
“Speed! Use your speed!”
Annie made a sidestepping move, tripped, recovered, and shot. The ball rolled past the keeper and into the far corner of the net.
“That’s the way, baby girl! Just like that!”
She ignored her teammates to look at Matt, sending him the brightest smile.
“My girl’s got talent. You’ve got to admit.”
“How could I miss seeing a future pro soccer player in the making?”
“In the making?” Matt scoffed. “She’s practically there.”
There was a piercing yet familiar whistle from behind them on another field. “Is that—”
“Patrick. Yes.”
Stephen looked back over his shoulder at his brother, fondly referred to as Number Five.
“He’s coaching the under-eight boys.”
“I’m surprised you’re not out there,” Stephen said.
“Oh, I am. I coach Jack. I’d be out there with Annie, but some other dad beat me to it. Won’t happen next year,” he added. “You should join me. I’ll let you be my assistant.”
“That’s funny.”
“Dad.” Charlie pulled on Matt’s free hand, then jumped to hang on his arm. “I want an ICEE.”
“We were talking about getting up a football game after this. You should come over.” Charlie went for the baby’s cracker and she jerked and kicked hot-pink glittery boots the size of his thumb.
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
If he was ready to go back to things he used to do. If he was ready to—
“Don’t be an a-hole.”
Stephen raised a brow at his brother. “A-hole?”
“The kids, you idiot.”
“Idit,” Mary repeated.
“It’s idiot,” Charlie corrected his sister and dropped to the grass.
“Great,” Matt muttered. “Now I’m in trouble. You’ll come. You’ll eat. And then I’ll wipe the playing field with your ugly face.”
Stephen didn’t say anything.
“Unless you’re scared.”
“Of what?”
“Getting embarrassed on the McKinney field of champions.”
“You wish. I can kick your secret soldier as—a-hole, any day.”
“You’re welcome to try.”
—
Stephen hadn’t been in his brother’s kitchen since the night of Gracie’s party, when he’d run in here to escape Hannah. Or memories. Or both, because somehow one brought the other. And because seeing her holding that baby had stirred something he didn’t want stirred.
Matt popped straws into juice boxes and tossed prepackaged snacks. “That ought to tide them over till lunch.” As the kids stampeded out the back door with their booty, Matt pulled a six-pack from the fridge and passed it to Andrew. “Stephen’s going to coach with me next year.”
“If I do, it won’t be as your assistant. Did you even play soccer?”
“I played soccer,” Lizzy said, walking in and setting a covered bowl on the counter.
“Of course he’ll be the assistant,” Matt said. “I’m older.”
Lizzy smirked and grabbed a beer for herself. “And a little old to be pulling the I’m older card, aren’t you?”