Page 8 of Wrong Number, Right Lumberjack
I open my mouth. Shut it. Run a hand through my hair, tugging at the back of my neck because everything feels too tight. “Then I won’t leave,” I say finally, voice steady even though my pulse is all over the place.
Her whole body goes still. Like I flipped a switch. “Stop it, you have a whole life Jace. I’m sorry I let this get so out of control. Let’s cut our losses before we get any deeper.” She steps back, just one small, quiet step, but it might as well be a mile. She looks like she’s already preparing herself for the goodbye. It knocks the air right out of me.
“I won’t—” But she cuts me off.
“Jace, go help your brother at the timber yard. Check in on him. This break will give us a chance to get our footing. When you get back, we can work on being friends.”
“Okay then.” My heart stutters in my chest. “That’s what I’ll do.”
But even as I say the words, I know it’s a lie. Missy is the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. There is no chance that I’m going to keep my distance. As she walks away, the plan stretchesout in front of me. All of a sudden, I know exactly what I need to do.
I walk back toward the field and pull out my phone. My brother answers on the first ring.
“James, there’s been a change in plan…”
CHAPTER 7
MISSY
The last two days without Jace in my world have been even more of a letdown than I thought possible. I’ve checked my phone dozens of times in hopes I’d see a text message from him. But I’ve had no such luck. Jace is giving me the space I demanded, and it feels like a vice on my chest.
I’m surprised at the way I miss Jace with my whole heart. He’s somehow become the light in my life. Without it, I can hardly tolerate it.
To make matters worse, today is the last day of youth football camp. Dread pools in my stomach like cold coffee left too long on my desk. So I’m giving myself until the end of today to sulk. Afterwards, I’ve got to move on and find some sort of silver lining.
I tug at the too-tight jersey over my chest and glance down at the padded pants clinging to my hips. This outfit was not made for curvy women. I thought there was a chance there’d be some kind of shape-wear effect, but now I see that’s a pipe dream too. I’m not sure how many moms are strapping on pads to play in the final game, but I’m willing to bet I’m the only one doing it in front of coworkers and potential vendors.
The irony is, I’m the one who dreamed up this event in the first place. I thought it would be cute. Sweet. The kind of thing kids would remember forever. At the time, it seemed like years before Ethan would talk or walk, let alone participate in this camp.
“Parents, line up in the tunnel. The announcer will say your child’s name, followed by yours. When you hear it, that’s your cue to run out. Fanfare is encouraged. Dance, high-fives, whatever you want. Have some fun out there, your kids are excited to see you.”
I clip the chinstrap and try not to gag at the stench.Seriously? This thing smells like a locker room and a public restroom had a baby..
But I pull it on anyway because I refuse to let my Ethan be the only kid without a parent on the field. We’re lined up in the tunnel now. As it turns out, it’s just me and a pack of overly enthusiastic dads who look like they’ve just been handed a second chance at high school glory.
These dudes are shoulder-checking each other and stretching like this is a televised game instead of a flag football scrimmage with seven-year-olds. The announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeakers. Names echo through the tunnel like a roll call from some bizarre alternate universe where single moms in shoulder pads actuallybelong.
I’m digging deep and mustering every ounce of excitement I can find. But the weight of everything I’ve left unsaid to Jace pressing against my ribcage feels like another layer of padding. I’m dressed like a linebacker and drowning in regret.
The truth is, Jace is the best man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, steady, and sexy as hell in those flannel shirts. On top of that, he looks at Ethan like he’s his favorite person. That’s not something you walk away from.
But I did. Like a total idiot. I can’t believe I sent him back to Lumberjack Lagoon. I’d give anything to go back in time and make a different choice. If he were here at this point, I’d give up my pride altogether and beg him to stay.
“Let’s go, Missy!” One of the dads shouts from ahead of me.
I nod and fall into line behind them, trying to ignore the way my shoulder pads jut out like wings on a busted-down angel. I shake my head as the announcer starts calling names. The crowd cheers and the kids scream. The line in front of me gets shorter by the second. There isn’t time for regret now.
I inch closer to the entrance and the sun pours onto the field as one by one, parents take off running.Please don’t let me fall.I inhale through my nose. My stomach churns as I step closer to the tunnel’s edge. The plastic helmet digs into my scalp, and my palms are sweaty inside the borrowed gloves.
“And now… Ethan Tieddy.”
I let out a deep breath and brace myself to sprint onto that field like some deranged mascot.
“Playing with our very own Lumberjack from the Southern Knights Football Family… Jace Crews!”
I lurch forward, heart stuttering, and peer around the edge of the tunnel to make sure I heard that right. My breath catches. My jaw falls open… There he is.
Standing tall at midfield, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun like some kind of mountain-sculpted Greek god. His team jersey hugs every inch of his solid frame. His dark eyes scan the sidelines and flash across the entrance to the tunnel until they land on me.
