Page 49 of The Maverick's Homecoming

“I will say it again. I’m coaching the Titans to help out the home team and to build my profile in the community, which helps me sell real estate—also, because I enjoy it. That’s it. That’s all.”

“Don’t give me denials. It’s not healthy. Get out of your own way…”

There was more. Finn tuned his father out. He let the older man yammer on. When he just couldn’t take it anymore, he cut in. “I have to go, Dad.”

“Damn it, Finn!”

“My love to Mom. Goodbye.”

His father was still berating him as Finn ended the call.

CHAPTER Seven

Wednesday evening, Kenzie went home as soon as practice was over. Finn kept the team a little longer. He called a huddle to discuss how the practice had gone and to offer tips and encouragement.

It was almost seven when he got to Kenzie’s house. She greeted him at the door in one of those flowy skirts of hers and a loose, filmy top.

“You look beautiful,” he said. Because she did.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks had turned temptingly pink. She glanced down at the to-go bag in his hand. “Is that…?”

“Satterfield’s crème brûlée.” He handed her the bag. “Two servings in foil ramekins. Instructions for putting them under the broiler to caramelize the topping are in there, too.”

She opened the bag and peeked in. “Yum. Even cold, it smells like heaven.” She moved back. “Come in, come in…”

* * *

“This is really good,” Finn announced twenty minutes later as he forked up another bite of Kenzie’s slow-cooker spiced turkey and couscous. He chewed slowly, savoring the combination of flavors.

“It’s easy and healthy,” Kenzie replied. She smiled…and then she frowned. “And I know what you’re doing.”

“Enjoying this delicious dinner, you mean?” A few minutes ago, he’d made the mistake of mentioning his recent conversation with his dad. Now, he just wanted to leave the unpleasant subject behind. So he ate another bite of couscous. It tasted like apricots and oranges, onion and cinnamon. Cilantro, too.

“Please,” Kenzie said. “You’re changing the subject. Don’t.”

“Let’s forget about my father—at least until after dinner,” he suggested. “Talking about him interferes with my appreciation of this excellent meal.”

“Eat more slowly. You’ll be fine.”

He made a face and she made one right back at him. Then he said, “I shouldn’t have brought him up.”

“Yes, you should. It’s good to talk about him with someone who cares for you.”

Finn loved the sound of that. “So you care about me, huh?”

Now, she looked simultaneously adorable and annoyed. “Of course, I care about you.”

“I’m glad. Because I care about you, too.”

“And I’m glad, as well,” she said primly. “Now, about your dad…”

He was thinking he’d like to have dinner with her every night. Having dinner with Kenzie seemed to him the perfect way to end the day.

If they were a couple for real, they would tidy up the kitchen together, maybe watch a show. They might discuss whatever family plans they had in the works. And they would hang out with the baby, of course—that is, once the baby was born.

And later, when the baby was sound asleep in her crib, they would go to bed. Together. Some nights they would make slow, perfect love.

And some nights they would simply hold each other. On those nights, they would talk about how their separate days had gone, maybe share their dreams and hopes for their future and the future of their family. Eventually, they would drop off to sleep in each other’s arms…