The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(31)



“Where’s my princess?” he called as he crossed the backyard.

Emmy waved. “Hi, Daddy. I’m learning a rainbow kick.”

“Great!” he said, although she’d never once shown any interest in sports, let alone soccer.

“Actually, your dad ought to teach you. He was always better than I was.” Steffi tossed him the ball, which he caught.

“You finally admit it!” He laughed, having dealt with her competitive streak for years.

“Don’t push it,” she murmured, suggesting she had said it only to make him look good in front of Emmy. “Goalies didn’t have much need for that move.”

“Let’s see, Daddy. Do it!” Emmy clapped.

He looked down at his dress shoes and slacks, then shrugged. It’d been a decade since he’d done one, and now he had to impress his daughter . . . and his ex, because, clearly, she still had the skill. “Don’t I get a warm-up?”

“Chicken?” Steffi crossed her arms, goading him.

Emmy joined in the taunt, flapping her little arms, crowing, “Bwok, bwok!”

Resigned to potential embarrassment, he set the ball down to the inside of his right foot, with his left foot stepping back so that his toes could roll the ball up his right calf. He took a breath, stepped into it, and popped the ball with a quick snap of his right heel. It arced over his head and landed a few feet in front of him.

Emmy whooped with pride, and Steffi whistled. “Look at you, Counselor. You’ve still got it.”

He supposed sixteen years of playing a sport meant he’d always retain some basic skills. Still, almost a decade of his life had passed without setting foot on a field or buying a new pair of cleats. Soccer had given him a fantastic outlet for his energy and a sense of belonging. It’d been neglectful not to encourage Emmy to try some sports. He’d let Val control Emmy’s day-to-day, which meant that Emmy attempted ballet—because she wanted pink tutus—and piano, but neither stuck, and he hadn’t pushed.

Emmy set the ball by her feet and tried again, not quite mastering the necessary roll up the calf. When the ball shot sideways, she chased it.

“Maybe she can still enroll in the community soccer league. It’s early, and she’s new to town. If she’s inherited your talent, she could try out for a travel league next year. If not, at least it’s a way to make friends.” Steffi watched Emmy from beside him.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll make a call and see if my mom will mind driving her to and from practice.”

“She could probably walk. The town fields are only a half mile or so.”

That idea shocked him. In Boston, Emmy never walked anywhere. Too much traffic and generalized “stranger danger.” But maybe here in the bubble of his small hometown, Emmy could experience the kind of freedom that would help her mature. “Maybe.”

Steffi raised a brow. “We did all the time, didn’t we?”

“We did.” Kick the can. Manhunt. Hanging out at Kovall’s candy store. He was always on his own with a pack of friends. “How was Peyton?”

Steffi’s face paled at the sudden change in topic. “Determined not to wallow. Logan had lunch with us. He asked about everyone.”

“Haven’t talked to him in a couple of years.” He could picture Logan, a prankster and the king of high school partying, like it was yesterday. Life had been sweet and easy then. Study. Train. Laugh. Sex. Repeat. Now it was all work—at the office, and at home with Emmy. Not much laughter lately. No sex.

“You should reach out,” Steffi said. He could hardly look at her, though, because he’d started thinking about sex—or the lack of it. “He’d probably appreciate it.”

“I should.” And then, because he didn’t want to spend too much time wading in the tides of nostalgia with Steffi or missing sex, he changed the subject. “Looks like you’re making good progress.” He eyed the project, telling himself not to think about sex.

“Long day, but I’m keeping on schedule.”

“Emmy’s not holding you up too much with soccer lessons and all, is she?”

“No.” Steffi smiled. “I promised her I’d give her a few minutes if she helped me clean up. She swept the sawdust from the porch today.”

He rubbed his chin playfully. “Violating child labor laws now?”

“Well, I happen to know a great defense attorney, so I think I’m in the clear.”

He repressed the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulder and kiss her head, like he used to when they’d tease each other. He didn’t mind a thawing between them, but he wasn’t ready to be friends, or more, even if everything in his body hummed when she stood so close. When the sun glinted off the blonde highlights and the breeze teased the stray hairs to flirt with her face. When the heat of a hot September afternoon made her skin glisten, and the joy in her eyes tugged at something deep within him while she watched Emmy trying to master the rainbow kick.

He cleared his throat. “I need to change. Have a good night.”

She flinched at the abrupt shift in his demeanor but recovered quickly. “I should head out, too.” She called out to Emmy, “Keep practicing and I’ll see how you do tomorrow.”

“Okay!” Emmy smiled, and Ryan’s heart beat so hard he almost cried. His day had started off so miserably. He’d really needed this picture of hope tonight, and he had Steffi, in part, to thank.

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