Page 24 of Out of Bounds
I’ve been on the phone with him on my drive out to Sunshine Ranch, encouraging him to get back to the training ground as a sounding board for Lamar. He’s feeling low, hesoundslow, and I think he needs what all of us team guys do – to be in the fold, cracking jokes and goofing around, being involved with the game we all love.
I get my usual one bark from Bear when I park, then he’s wagging his tail and waiting for me as I open the car door. “Hey, Bear.”
He throws himself on the lawn, all four limbs held out from his stomach for a scratch. “Yeah, alright, I got you, boy.”
“Howdy, Pace,” Sonny calls from beneath his cowboy hat, tugging off leather gloves, dirty from whatever work he’s been doing.
“Sonny.” I give him a two-fingered salute. “How’re things?”
“Busy, busy. Good result last night.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Lucky win, though. Playing that way won’t win championship games.”
One sad day, Sonny Quinn’s eulogy will read:
Beloved husband, daddy, grandfather and friend. Timelessly tactless and stoic. A die-hard Bears fan.
“We’re working on it, sir.”
He nods once, firmly. “Annie’s inside giving Nelson a snack. I’ll come watch him once I’m cleaned up so you can take her for a ride.”
That simple statement shouldn’t make a grown man blush but damn it does. I only hope Sonny can’t see into my mind and the downright inappropriate thoughts I’ve been having about Annie these past few days.
I need to get laid. No emotion, just a quick release of testosterone. Enough to remind me that picturing Annie in those tiny denim skirts and cowboy boots while my right hand was wrapped around my dick last night was… not okay.
“Annie Bannie, Nellie Bellie?” The smell of good home cooking hits me when I step inside the kitchen. Today, it’s roasted garlic I’m getting on the nose.
“We’re in the lounge,” Annie calls. I find her sitting at the dining table feeding Nelson something that looks like mashed root veg.
“Looks like he’s wearing more than he’s eating.” I’m referring to the coating of food smeared over almost every inch of him. It’s a warm day and he’s wearing nothing but a diaper and dirt.
Ten minutes later, Annie’s reversing us away from the house in her sparkling new car and turning us onto the dusty track to filthy it right up.
“You’re driving well,” I tell her.
It’s true, relatively. She’s much more comfortable in this car than Sonny’s truck. She’s not clunking between gears and with less to think about without a shifter, she’s remembering to check her mirrors and signal.
We’ve got the windows down and the air outside is thick, muggy. Clouds are building and the sky is darkening despite the time of day. “We should head back before the storm breaks,” I say.
Annie maneuvers in a three-point turn like she’s done it plenty of times before and I tell her as much.
“I think you’re giving me confidence. I knew I could drive, I just needed…”
“Confidence?”
She glances up to me through long lashes and it takes all my willpower to look away when she smiles in a way that lights up those melting chocolate irises.
We aren’t quick enough getting back to the house. The heavens burst, making it difficult for Annie to drive. Thunder roars nearby and lightning cracks around us.
She rolls up her window, the distraction causing her to sway in the car enough to have me worried. “Scoot over, Annie, I’ll drive us back the rest of the way. I’m all for you getting experience in bad weather but this is dangerous.”
“I’m fine. You said yourself, I’m driving well.”
But the downpour is meteoric and the tires are losing grip under the muddy track. “Annie, come on, this isn’t safe.” She can barely see through the windshield.
“I’ve got to drive in the rain sometime.”
