I pushed the bowl of candy forward. “Have at it.”
But Jack reached over with a staying hand. “I, uh, actually have something for them.”
I watched curiously as he produced a plastic bag from beneath the table and pulled out full-sized candy bars, passing them to the girls.
They squealed excitedly.
“Thank you!” the girls chorused.
“You’re an amazing coach-slash-human,” Jamie added with a grin.
Jack must have felt my amused gaze burning a hole in the side of his face because he cut me a sidelong glance. “What?”
“You are a secret softie,” I said, absolutely charmed by this turn of events.
He wanted to play the role of a grumpy bar owner forced to participate in community service, but he liked these kids. And I was willing to bet he enjoyed coaching them, too.
“Ms. Jensen, will you take a picture of us with Coach Jack?” Jamie asked.
“Sure,” I replied happily, accepting the little girl’s cell phone.
The three hustled around the table as Jack stood. They got into position on either side, grinning widely and saying “Cheese!”
Jack’s smile was somehow both gruff and unbearably fond, and I was infinitely delighted that there was photographic evidence.
Jamie and the others hurried off with a “Goodbye!” and a “Thank you!”
I couldn’t resist my amused grin as we resumed our seats and handed over the candy bowl to the kids who’d been waiting.
When his gaze caught mine, Jack rolled his eyes. “It was just a picture. You’ve been taking them with kids all night.”
“Yeah, but those other kids just wanted a photo with Princess Peach. Jamie and Tori and Rosie wanted a picture with you, their coach.”
He looked uncomfortable with the knowledge. Like maybe he hadn’t expected the girls to remember him off the field. Or he hadn’t anticipated making an impact anywhere down the line.
“I was forced into the coaching thing, remember? I don’t like getting involved.”
I pressed my lips together.
Jack frowned. “What? Just say it.”
“What about the end-of-season party you threw for the team at Magnolia this week after their final practice?” I challenged.
“It wasn’t a party,” he argued, but he looked away.
“And the certificates you gave each kid with their little trophies.”
“I found a template online and just printed them out.”
“Jamie showed me hers,” I said, voice soft from the sweetness he was intent on hiding. “It’s framed in her cubby at school. The Most Organized on the Team award. That doesn’t sound like a template to me.”
Jack sighed, and I had to work really hard to keep the smile off my face.
“Just admit it. You like them,” I encouraged. “You liked coaching those kids. You liked being involved.”
His eyes rolled heavenward, but he grunted out a barely audible, “Fine. Coaching wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be.”
My smile burst free. “Look at you. Community leader.” I waved a hand at our surroundings. “Active participant in our local economy.”
