Dirty Tackle: A Football Romance by Imani King

I would tell him about Scarlet after the funeral. I would be able to gauge if what I thought we had between us was really something that could stand the test of any obstacle.
    I nodded slowly. “I’ll have to make some arrangements for work and such,” I said quickly to cover the racing of my thoughts. I was sure that once she understood the reason, my mother would agree to watch Scarlet until I got back to town.
    “Of course,” Shane said. But his eyes appeared to be hooded. It was as if he was deep in thought. “You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?”
    I realized what he must’ve been thinking. My hesitation and reluctance to see him had given him the idea that there might be someone else in my life. In all actuality there was, it just wasn’t exactly in the way that he was thinking.
    I gave him a light kiss on his cheek. “There is only you. There’s always only been you.”
    That was pretty much true. Unlike Shane, whose romances were publicly splashed across every celebrity news rag, my love life had been significantly quieter. In the end, I was always measuring the man against Shane, and they were always falling short. So I had focused on my daughter and my work, and it had been fulfilling; at least, until now.
    He sat us up and nuzzled against the crook of my neck. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
    I glanced at my watch. I didn’t want to leave Shane alone, but if I was going to be going out of town for a couple of days, I felt like I needed to at least see Scarlet once before I left.
    “Why don’t I go back to my place and grab some things? Then I’ll come back and stay with you tonight,” I suggested. This was going to involve a little bit more manipulation of my mother, but I didn’t want Shane to be alone.
    He nodded. “All right. You want me to come with you?”
    “No,” I said quickly. “You should lay low just in case the press has found out. How about I bring us back something to eat?” I said. I found that my maternal instinct was coming out. I wanted to take care of him and protect him in every way possible. There was also a small part of me that was a little bit excited about having some time away with him, even if it was for the somber reason of attending his father’s funeral.
    “That sounds great,” he said with a smile. “You promise to come back?”
    “I promise,” I said even as I began to rub his shoulders to let him know that he didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore. I was in it to win it.
    An hour later, I unlocked the door to my apartment. The door was barely opened before I was greeted by a small whirlwind who knocked into my lower abdomen. “Mommy!”
    I laughed and scooped Scarlet up into my arms. Even though she was eight years old, she was still small enough that I was able to carry her for a short period of time.
    I could smell the heavenly scent of homemade spaghetti sauce. My mom had been cooking. “Is Grandma making spaghetti?”
    “Yes!” she said as she gave me a thumbs up. I laughed and gave her a tight squeeze before I let her slide to the floor. “You’re getting heavier by the day.”
    “That’s not something you should tell her. You will give her a complex,” my mother said as she emerged into the hall. She waved me into the kitchen. I followed somewhat reluctantly. I was still trying to figure out how I was going to frame the situation up for my mother so that she wouldn’t decide to stick her nose into it and meddle.
    “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” she said. She was moving around the kitchen in an experienced way. I couldn’t cook worth a damn. That was one trait that my mother said I definitely inherited from my father.
    I knew that it was my mother’s fondest dream that I would marry a pro athlete given my line of work. For some reason, she believed that would make our family’s troubles go away. I had a surprise for her, though. I had no intention if things did continue between me and Shane to ask him