Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

When I get out of the shower, I find Roxy sprawled out on my bed. “Lovely,” I mutter. Since her mother left, she’s had nightmares—me too, but of a different kind. I slip into a pair of boxers, which I hate sleeping in and crawl into bed. As soon as I’ve situated my pillows, her tiny voice echoes through my room.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, baby girl.” I reach over and pull my comforter over her, but she has a better idea and decides to squirm her way over to me. I turn on the TV and turn the volume down until Autumn is on air. I love listening to her speak and don’t even care if it’s about jet streams and fronts.

Autumn stands in front of her five-day forecast screen wearing Pioneer colors. Every part of me wishes she did this because of me, but I know someone else picks out her clothes for her. Still, I feel like this is a message. Yes, I want her to be my girlfriend and a part of my children’s lives, but is that what she wants?

When my phone vibrates at eleven-forty-five, a big smile spreads across my face. “I have to say, I loved your color scheme tonight.”

She laughs, and the sound goes right to my groin. The most we’ve done is kiss, and I have a massive hard-on for her. If this is any indication of how I feel about her, the moment we get to be together, to make love to each other, it will be explosive.

“Thanks. I told Meyers we could add some more color to my wardrobe.”

“Nicely done, Weather Girl.”

“What are you doing right now?”

I groan. “I feel like this is a segue into phone s-e-x.”

Autumn laughs again. “Roxy in bed with you?”

“Yep.”

“It wasn’t,” she says, “But now I’m thinking about it.”

“Stop,” I warn. “Nothing good will come from it other than frustration.”

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

“No, don’t do that either. Gah, I’m confusing myself.”

Again, with more laughter. “Okay, I’ll behave even if I’m a bit jealous of your daughter right now.”

“Oh yeah, do you want to be in my bed?” As soon as the words come out, I want to take them back. Yet, I don’t.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Please do.”

Autumn clears her throat. “One hundred percent,” she says.

“Mhm . . . we’ll have to figure something out.” I’m not sure what, unless Elena comes to town and I’m staying in a hotel, or my parents take the kids for a night.

“I can be patient, Julius.”

I can’t.

“I’m not sure I can, Autumn.” I groan again and scrub my hand over my face. “I need to change the subject.” I clear my throat and readjust in bed. “Reggie is sort of between two minds right now with hating his mother, not wanting me to date, and being a kid. But he asked if you’re coming to his game in the morning. I hadn’t mentioned it before because I don’t know if you’re interested in meeting the kids this way or even going to a Pee Wee football game first thing in the morning. If you’re not, no biggie. If you are, you can ride with us if you want.”

There’s a long pause.

“I’m sorry,” I add. “I know I rambled a mile a minute there.”

“It’s fine. What do you think, Julius? Do you want me there?”

“Yes, I do, but it’s up to you. I know we just started seeing each other, and while Roxy loves you, Reggie is older and struggling with his parents getting a divorce.”

“Okay.” Autumn inhales. “I’ll go, but I’ll drive myself. I don’t want your son to feel awkward in the car. That should be his safe space.”

For some odd reason, I feel insurmountable relief. “God, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Same here. Maybe we should keep the PDA to a minimum, though? I don’t want to upset Reggie.”

“I agree. Besides, once Roxy sees you, she’s not going to let me anywhere near you.”

“Text me the address, and I’ll be there, Julius. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Weather Girl. I’ll see you in the morning.”

We hang up, and I quickly send her the address of the field and the kick-off time. I set my phone on my nightstand, turn the television off, and relax into my pillows. The only glow is from the city lights since I’ve left my curtains open. I should get up and close them, but I don’t. The ambiance is excellent, and it gives Roxy a nightlight in case she needs to get up in the middle of the night.

As soon as I close my eyes, my wiggle worm of a daughter crawls onto my chest and relaxes. She started this after her mother left, and I don’t know how to break the habit, but I need to if I ever plan to have Autumn spend the night.