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“We have an away game this Sunday. Cincinnati. You coming?” Caleb asks.
“I wasn’t planning on it. Did you want me to?”
“You know that I do. I don’t get to see you enough as it is.”
Tell me about it.“I have family coming to Cincinnati. You could sit with them,” I offer.
“Is Momma Williams going to be there?” Caleb asks. “Wait, more importantly, is she making us her peanut butter cookies?” There is an almost desperate plea to his question.
“Yeah, Mom will be there. I can put in an order for cookies, but you might want to call her yourself to get an extra couple of dozen. I don’t plan on sharing,” I warn him.
“What about me? I need to try these cookies if they have you two fighting over them.” Joey laughs.
“I’ll share with you,” I tell her. I’m pretty sure there isn’t much that I wouldn’t give her.
“My mouth is watering.” Caleb chuckles. “Joey, you have no idea how good these cookies are. We’re talking melt-in-your-mouth peanut-buttery goodness.”
“Well, I picked up some cupcakes for dessert. I don’t know if it can hold up to Brock’s mom’s peanut butter cookies, but they’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“I’m not going to turn away cupcakes either.” Caleb stands and moves to place his plate in the dishwasher. “Thanks for this, Joey,” he says, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s nice having you here.”
“You’re welcome.” She tilts her head back and smiles up at him.
“And we still need to have that talk.” Caleb points at her.
“I know.” Her face grows somber. “We will. I promise.” Caleb nods, grabs two cupcakes, flashes us a grin, and takes off up the stairs.
“This was delicious. Thank you,” I say, standing and rinsing off my plate before placing it into the dishwasher as well.
“Good game today.”
“Thanks.” I flash her a smile. “I’m glad you were there.”
“So, next week, are you sure it’s okay if I sit with your family?”
“Definitely. In fact, why don’t you bring Taylor? It will just be my mom and dad, and I’ve got four tickets. That way, you won’t feel awkward.”
“Are you sure?”
“Call her,” I say, sliding her phone across the island where she’s still sitting. “I’ll clean up while you make plans.”
“I don’t know if she can get off work.”
“Call her, Joey,” I urge. “All expenses paid. My treat. In fact, I’ll call and get you a room where the team is staying.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s done.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a message to Miller, my agent. He’ll take care of it. I’m not a diva client, and I never ask for much, so he’ll know with just this request that it means something. That she means something. Well, he’ll think that one of them means something to me.
“Hey, Taylor.” I hear her say into the phone.
“Go.” I wave her off. “I’ll clean up here. Go catch up with your friend.”
“Hold on, Tay.” She moves the phone away from her mouth. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I reach out and run my index finger down the side of her cheek. “Go. I’ve got this.”
With a soft smile, she stands and presses her lips against my cheek. “Thank you, Brock.” With that, she places the phone back to her ear and disappears up the stairs.
