Page 48 of The Maverick's Homecoming

“We’ll see…”

The team was waiting on him. “Dinner,” he said firmly. “You and me. Wednesday after practice. Say yes.”

She frowned as though trying to think of a way to let him down easy. He braced for rejection. But then, she said, “Tell you what. Come to my place. I’ll have something ready in the slow cooker.”

The relief was unbelievably sweet. Not only would he get an evening with her, but it would also be at her house, in private. Just the two of them. He couldn’t suppress a giant, happy smile. “Yes! I’ll bring dessert. Something chocolate?”

“How about that crème brûlée from Satterfield’s?”

“Great idea. I’ll bring that.”

“Yum,” she replied.

For the next several seconds, they just stood there staring at each other while he thought about holding her, about kissing her.

And kissing her some more…

Finally, she said, “I think Barrett’s calling you.”

He glanced back at the field. Sure enough, Barrett was waving him over. He waved back and turned to Kenzie again. “Wednesday night.”

“I am looking forward to it.” She said it softly, for his ears alone.

He jogged back to join the team. When he got there, he blew his whistle to get everyone’s attention and then instructed them to grab their phones from their lockers and meet up in the gym.

Several team parents had recorded Friday night’s game and Oscar had spent a busy weekend collecting video from the volunteer parents and sending it on to Finn, Barrett and the squad.

That afternoon, the team and the staff spent an hour and a half going over the footage. Finn focused both on what they’d done right and what needed improvement.

After practice, he worked until ten.

Tuesday, he wrote an offer for a large ranch property east of town. The offer was accepted. He would get a good commission when the sale closed. That pleased him. And looking forward to dinner tomorrow night at Kenzie’s house pleased him even more. He went to practice that day with a smile on his face.

And then after practice, he put in some time at his office. He got home at 10:00 p.m. He was barely in the door when his phone rang in his pocket.

It was his dad. Finn seriously considered letting it go to voicemail. But family was family. He called his mother twice a month just to check up on her. And he talked to his brothers often.

If he didn’t pick up, his dad would just call again. Eventually, Finn would give in and get back to him.

He took the call. “Hello, Dad. How’s it going?”

“Your team lost by ten Friday. You need to do better.”

Finn put on a smile even though the old man couldn’t see it—because there was no point in being angry that his dad was a jerk. Finn Sr. would never change. “I’m doing fine, Dad,” Finn said, purposely answering the question his father hadn’t asked. “How about you?”

“Let’s talk about the Titans and how well you’re doing with them.”

“The team is doing just great, Dad, thanks.”

Finn Sr. made a grumbling sound. “On a happier note, you not only madeThe Bronco Bulletin, but you also got a mention in theNews-ArgusandThe Bozeman Daily Chronicle. People are watching you and that is a very good sign.”

Finn rubbed his temples. A headache was forming. “Dad—”

“You need a win and you need it this Friday. You need to build that team, and with it, your reputation. Then you land a contract as coach of a decent college team and from there you go on to a better one. Then eventually, if you play your cards right, you’re moving up to the NFL, staking your claim as the next big-time NFL coach.”

“Dad, I will never be Andy Reid. I don’twantto be Andy Reid. I sell real estate in my hometown and I help out with the football team and I like it. I like my life. It works for me.”

“You’re just afraid to reach for the stars.”