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Dalton picked up on the second ring. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“I’ve been busy.” Feeling sorry for himself. Lyric was right. He saw the hope in her eyes, and it took the edge off the anxiety about his future.
“Tommy Tatum moved over to the Cowboys—traitor. I need an offensive coordinator, and you’re it.” Dalton was all business. Heath checked his watch. It was 6:32 a.m. Who was all business at 6:32 a.m.? It only confirmed Heath’s theory that Dalton had a stick up his ass the size of the Treaty Oak.
“I don’t know.” He’d never coached before. Never even given it any thought. “This feels like a pity job.”
“It comes with a seven-million-dollar paycheck. No amount of pity is worth seven mil.” Dalton was king of the bean counters. The man not only pinched every single penny, he’d been known to squeeze them until they screamed.
“Why?” Heath had never thought the GM really liked him, much less respected him.
“We both know that it was you calling plays on the field. Tommy is a nice enough guy, but you were the genius behind the offensive line. I’d like for you to take that genius to the next level. The guys on the team already know and respect you, so the transition would be smoother than bringing in an outsider.”
“What about Golden? What does he think about me taking the job?” He’d always gotten along with the head coach … for the most part. There were a couple of rookie training camp adventures that Golden hadn’t particularly liked. But he’d been young and stupid then, and now … now he was a man who was planning on bringing a wife back to Fort Worth.
Just the thought of Lyric coming to Fort Worth with him had hope blooming in Heath’s chest. He still had a lot of groveling to do to make up for what had happened all those years ago, but he was man enough to do it. And he was man enough to take this job if it meant showing Lyric that he had a real future.
“It was his idea.” Dalton sounded like he was in a hurry. He always sounded like he was in a hurry. He reminded Heath of one of those performers who spins plates. Dalton was always rushing from problem to problem, trying to keep all of the plates spinning. “What do you say?”
“Yes.” It was out before he’d had time to think about it. Fear and elation saturated his system with adrenaline. If he screwed this up … he didn’t want to think of all of the ways he could screw this up. “You’ve got a new offensive coordinator.”
He was excited about the future for the first time in a long time, and it was all thanks to Lyric.
She smiled and clapped. She mouthed, “Hooray.”
“Good. We can work out the details later today. I’ve got to go. Good-bye.” Dalton hung up.
“Dalton was never one for small talk.” Heath pulled the phone away from his ear and slipped it in his front pocket.
“I know. I like that about him.” Lyric tackled him with a hug. “I’m so happy for you. How do you feel about it?”
No one but her had ever asked him how he felt about anything. He had Lyric and a new job. Life was good. “I’m sort of excited about it.”
“Good. Me too.” She sucked on her top lip. “There’s something else we need to talk about.”
“Is it the wedding?” He knew he sounded overly hopeful, but he doubted that she’d catch that.
“No, it’s more important.” She wouldn’t make eye contact. “Last night, you said that you’d seduc
ed the right girl here, but called her the wrong name.”
Her eyes were brimming with hope. His heart smiled. If she still didn’t have feelings for him, she wouldn’t care.
“Yes, I know it was you. I called you Harmony. I regret that more than you can know.” Now didn’t feel like the time to tell her that he loved her. If he pushed her too hard, she’d run away. She was important. She was the one. She was everything. “I was a mixed-up hormonal kid. You were the one … always the one, only I had you confused with Harmony. She was always the bright, shining star, and you were in the background. I should have noticed that sooner.”
The smile froze on her lips.
“I didn’t say that right. All of the things that I thought I loved about Harmony were really things about you. You’re the one I wanted to tell all of my secrets to, to run to when I had a problem, and to celebrate with when something good happened. You were always the one.” He needed for her to believe this if they were ever going to build a relationship … a life together.
“Why?” Lyric swallowed. “Why couldn’t you see me?”
“I’ve spent more than a little time wondering that over these last twelve years.” He wasn’t good at baring his soul to anyone, but she wouldn’t make fun of him. She never had. “The people in my life leave me. First it was my mother and then my father. I set myself up with people who will leave me. I knew Harmony wasn’t forever, so that was comfortable … safe.” He’d spent a lot of time mulling over why his relationships didn’t last, especially while he’d been in rehab and had just wanted someone or something to hold onto. Instead, he’d fixated on football and damn near killed himself on the off chance he’d get to play again. He’d drowned his sorrows in physical pain, hoping that by shear will and determination, he could make his body heal. It hadn’t worked.
“You were always there. That’s a little frightening. Someone who cares enough about me to never leave. Someone who sees the good and the bad and likes me anyway.” Until he’d broken her heart by calling her the wrong name. “I hurt you, and that makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t ever want to hurt you again. I need you in my life. You smooth out my rough edges and make me see the best in myself.”
She analyzed him, looking for some shred of falsehood. He’d done that to her. He’d given her reason to doubt him. No matter what, he couldn’t escape from his past any more than she could escape from hers.
He took her hands in his. “Do you know how many times I picked up the phone to call you?” Even knowing that she wouldn’t answer. At the time, he hadn’t known why, but now he did, and if he’d been in her place, he wouldn’t have picked up the phone either.
