Page 7 of The Coach

“Oh, hun,” I reach in, patting Jackson’s arm. “You’re lucky. Just go with it. Don’t question it.”

I eye Lauren as I say it, knowing I’m more or less repeating her own advice from earlier. She winks back at me, taking a slow sip of her drink.

Jackson chuckles. “I’ll do that.” He clears his throat. “By the way, what do you do for work?”

“Oh, I’m a teacher.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really.”

I narrow my eyes at his surprised tone. “Uh…what?”

He smirks, nodding toward my barely touched beer. “Well, the way you’renursingthat drink? Thought you might be an R.N.”

For a second, I just blink.

Then, I burst out laughing, reaching over and touching his forearm.

“Okay, that was actually funny,” Lauren admits, shaking her head.

Jackson grins, looking way too pleased with himself. “What can I say? Dad jokes are in my blood.”

I shake my head, still laughing, warmth curling through my chest.

I should not be this charmed by a silly one-liner.

But damn it, I am.

I take another sip of my drink and realize—this doesn’t feel like some random encounter. Somehow, it feels like I’ve known this man forever. Despite being intimidated by him earlier, I feel strangely comfortable talking to him. Like we’re old friends who have never met.

Not to mention the way my body pulls toward him. Like gravity, like fate. All of the sudden, no matter how I try to stop it, I start picturing what it would be like tobewith a man like this. For a long time. Easy conversation in the kitchen while while we make dinner together.

Our kid could have those gorgeous, deep blue eyes—oh God. I’vegotto stop doing this. I heave a sigh.

Jackson notices my expression, his brows lifting. “What?”

I blink, caught. “Oh, just…do you believe in past lives?”

He lets out a low laugh. “Wow. Really jumping in the deep end here.” He considers for a second. “The jury’s still out for me. You?”

I nod. “I do.”

“Why are you thinking about past lives?”

I hesitate, then just smile. “Oh, no reason.”

Chapter Three

IVY

A couple more shots and many more hours later, Jackson and I find ourselves outside on the rooftop patio of the bar, leaning against the railing and gazing up at the stars.

The night air is cool, a perfect contrast to the buzz of tequila warming my veins. Jackson’s bowtie is gone, the first couple buttons of his shirt undone, and there’s a relaxed grin on his face as he stares up at the night sky. Lauren already left because she has an early morning yoga class to teach…which I usually attend.

But maybe not tomorrow, given how many libations we’ve had.

“The stars here are incredible,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s savoring the moment. “You don’t get this in the city.”

“I know, right? Riverbend has a couple of perks, at least. I mean, we don’t have the world class art museums that, say, Chicago has.”

---