I frowned as the call went to voicemail and the phone remained in my husband’s hand. “You know I’m going to call him back.”
“I know you are. But how about when we get home? I’ll do homework with frick and frack, and you can go upstairs and get your geek on. At least if you do one thing at a time, you’ll be a little less stressed. The game’s almost over anyway.”
A little while later, Christian and I walked down to the field. He carried the cooler he brought to every game. As we approached, the kids were down on one knee, listening to Coach’s post-game talk. But when they spotted my husband, every single player got up and ran toward him. Though these days, the kids were running to Christian Knox for a different reason.
“Do you have chocolate?” one of them asked.
Christian mussed his hair. “Did you complain because I only had vanilla last time?”
The kid smiled from ear to ear and nodded.
“Then I got chocolate this time too.” He opened the cooler and had to step out of the way so he wouldn’t be knocked over during the frenzied Chipwich grab. As soon as the kids got their ice cream, they ripped their cleats and socks off and ran around the field. I still found it amazing that Christian hadn’t even prompted them to do that. He’d just brought the Chipwiches, and they did the rest—knocking each other over and laughing with their toes in the grass and ice cream in hand.
Christian hooked an arm around my waist, and we stood together quietly, watching the chaos on the field, both of us smiling.
“I just realized you have no grass at home right now,” I said.
We’d recently dug up our backyard to put in an in-ground pool and some new landscaping. We planned on installing sod in the spring, but right now it was mostly mud. “Should I get some seed and make a little patch like you used to have on your balcony in your fancy New York apartment? I wouldn’t want to rob you of your happy place to eat ice cream for six months.”
Christian turned and pulled me close. Smiling down, he lifted a hand to my glasses and raised one side. I guessed they were crooked again. “I don’t need my toes in the grass anymore,” he said. “I’ve got my happy place right here, boss lady.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet.”
He moved his mouth to my ear. “Plus, fuck the Chipwich and your work. I’m going to eat you when we get home.”
I laughed. That was Christian, the perfect combination of sweet and dirty. Sometimes I couldn’t believe this was my life, that it was all real and I’d found true love. But I had. It had just taken me a while, because I’d found it where I least expected it—on the other side of fear.