Page 38 of The Story of Us
Eloise fiddled with the sleeve of her dress. He’d bet the woollen fabric was as soft as it looked, not scratchy like some jumpers were. If only he could check for himself. “It wouldbe good to offer something like that here. Eventually try and get the local clubs on board. I guess we’d better come up with a program then.”
“Are you free after training tonight?” Which—damn—he really needed to get to the oval and get everything set up. Hopefully, Teddy was already there. It might even be the first time he was happy to see Bianca.
“I was supposed to meet up with …” Eloise didn’t need to finish her sentence. The blush on her cheeks confirmed Nate’s suspicions.
Fucking Ryan.
“I see.”
“But he cancelled so we could start brainstorming. I’d rather avoid the pub, though. How about we meet back here afterwards?”
The words were out of his mouth before his brain even realised what was happening. “Or you could come to my place? I made pizza dough earlier and there’s plenty.”
Nate winced because, yeah, it sounded like a date to him as well.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not after everything …” Eloise fidgeted with her sleeves again. And damn it, this was all Nate’s fault. He’d led her on, and now he was paying the price for it.
“Please, Eloise? I know I’ve been an ass.” Her eyebrows quirked up, but Nate ploughed on. “But I’d really like to show you how important your friendship is to me.”
It was why he wouldn’t let himself have anything more, not that he could tell her that.
“I do like pizza … and it would be good to get a head start if we want to get this off the ground before Christmas. We could pitch what we’ve already been doing as a pilot program.”
Nate pulled his phone out of his pocket when it buzzed.
Lulu: Any chance your charity wants to donate to a great new program at KPs? ??
Disregard what he’d thought earlier. Lulu Hampshire-JamesandJoan Mandrill were the only ones who could get away with this sort of stuff. But it didn’t matter because if this helped chase away the awkwardness that still lingered between himself and Eloise, Nate would do anything they asked.
13
Who knew the surprise interview wasn’t going to be the most stressful part of Eloise’s day? She stopped outside Nate’s log cabin and paused. Light spilled out through the windows and smoke from the chimney curled into the starry sky.
The last time she’d been here, she’d …ahem.That was never happening again.
Steeling herself against the night-time chill that greeted her when she opened her car door, Eloise stepped out. She took her time retrieving her laptop bag and the sketchbook she used for jotting down ideas.
A shadow crossed the big window next to the door, and Echo came barrelling down the three front steps.
“Hey, girl.” Eloise scratched the dog’s head before locking her car even though there was no one else around. The closest people would be at the James’ farmhouse, its lights nothing more than a few specks in the distance.
It was criminal how good Nate looked in an apron, a streak of flour across his cheek, his slouchy grey beanie back on his head. Once she was closer, she could read what was embroidered onto the navy fabric. Underneath an arrow that pointed upwards were the words:I Get It From My Mama.
“Nice apron,” she murmured.
“Mum gets a perverse amount of enjoyment from giving us stuff like this.”
“It’s why she gets along so well with Joanie.” Eloise clutched her laptop bag and sketchpad to her chest.
“Come in.” Nate pulled the screen door open and gestured for her to go first.
It was much warmer inside thanks to the wood burning in the hot box. Eloise toed off her shoes and placed her backpack next to the turquoise key bowl on the elm sideboard. She’d made it as a welcome-home gift for Nate. She flushed, remembering how she’d explained that the unfinished edges signified his best work was still to come. While everyone had been lamenting what a shame it was that his NFL career was over, she’d wanted to gently remind him that there would still be plenty of adventures ahead for him to look forward to.
Eloise let her gaze coast over his kitchen and living room properly. The last time she’d been here, she’d been too hungover and mortified to notice all the little touches that made it clear this was Nate’s home. She edged closer to the collection of framed black-and-white photographs on the wall behind the dark tan leather couch. There was an empty NFL stadium, a tower of lights covered in rain and a locker with JAMES printed in bold across the top, football boots, a gym bag and a stack of paperbacks tucked neatly inside it. The shots Nate chose to display confirmed how humble he was. Framed jerseys or images of him with the Lombardi Trophy wouldn’t have been out of place here, but all he had were subtle reminders of what had once been his life. The two large bookcases that were nestled amongst the navy curtains matched the sideboard underneath the long window next to his front door. A row of shoes were kicked underneath it. Three big boxes stamped with pictures of books were stacked next to them, wrapped in orange and black ‘heavy’ tape.
“Is this what I think it is?” She trailed her fingers over the top of the nearest box.
“Depends. What do you think it is?”
