If he was ever anybody else.
“You’re gonna retire, aren’t you?” Brian asked quietly. Cam glanced to the couple who’d been showing him interest. They were staring at the big screens hanging over the bar, squabbling over something and paying him no attention.
There was only one answer. It had been that way all along, he’d just been too damn stubborn to admit it. Keep playing and risk permanent injury that would change who he was, or leave the game he loved with his damn head intact.
But he still wasn’t ready to accept it.
Giving Brian a tight smile, he shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea what I’m going to do next.”
Chapter Two
Mia Devlin pulled her car onto the driveway and blew out a mouthful of air. Craning her head over her shoulder, she painted a fake smile on her face. “We’re here,” she said to the two boys sitting in the backseat. Her eldest son, Michael, had his headphones on, and was resolutely staring out of the window at the cracked pavement, as though fascinated by the brilliant pink flowers growing through the gaps.
He’d been this way since they’d left their old home in Kansas City yesterday morning. She had no idea what he was listening to – if he was listening to anything at all – but she sure got the message.
He wasn’t happy about this move.
Her youngest, Josh, was asleep. At eight years old, this move to a new town was an adventure to him, like the stories he read in his bed late at night when she’d caught him under his duvet with a flashlight. For most of the journey, he’d had his face pressed against the window, his eyes wide as they traveled from built up metropolis to farm fields and small towns.
“Josh, honey,” she said, reaching through the gap in the seats to gently shake his shoulder. “We’re here.”
“Huh?” He shook his head and opened his eyes. “Where?”
“We made it to Uncle Sam’s house.”
Michael let out a snort but refused to look at either of them.
“This is Uncle Sam’s house?” Josh asked, his brows lifting. “Wow. There are a lot of trees here.”
Technically, he was Mia’s Great Uncle Sam. Her Grandma’s big brother. Which made him Josh and Michael’s Great, Great Uncle. But she wasn’t going to get into technicalities now.
“It’s a dump,” Michael muttered. “Look at the grass.”
“He’s old. He can’t keep the place up like he used to,” Mia said, her patience at a precipice. Any minute it was going to fall off. Yes, it must be dreadful to move states at the start of ninth grade, especially when you had your heart set on going to high school with all your friends. But it wasn’t a move she wanted either.
As the responsible adult, she had no choice.
Josh opened the door and jumped onto the concrete driveway. “Hey, Mom, there’s a swing in the tree.” He ran over to it, pushing the plank that was hanging on ropes from an old branch. “Mikey, we have our own playground. Come and look.”
Another grunt, but at least Michael opened the car door and stepped out. Mia followed suit, smiling at Josh as he sat on the swing. At least one of her children was happy. Which made her fifty percent happy, too.
“Come and push me, Mikey!” Josh shouted.
“You’re old enough to swing yourself,” Michael muttered, running his hand through his thick hair. “Where’s this uncle of ours?” he asked his mom. “Shouldn’t he be here to greet us?” He lowered his voice. “Or is he as happy to have us as I am to be here?”
Josh jumped off the swing and walked over to them, patting Michael on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’re only here for a while. Then Dad’ll come back and everything will be back to normal.”
“Dad’s not coming back, you dimwit. He’s got a girlfriend. Took all the money from the business.” Michael’s nostrils flared. “Left us high and fucking dry.”
“Don’t swear.” Mia pressed her lips together. “And cool it. Josh is only trying to cheer you up.”
Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry, Josh.” When he opened them again, there was a flash of vulnerability shining back at her, reminding Mia of the little boy her eldest son once was. “This sucks, Mom,” he said, his voice low.
“I know.” She gave him a half smile. “But we have no choice.”
Not when their house in Kansas City was being foreclosed on, and the business Mia and her ex used to run had been stripped bare of assets. She’d tried to find a way to keep them in their home. God knew she had. But when it came down to it, staying with Sam was their only choice.
Her cousin, Joanna, had been the one who suggested it, after Sam admitted to her he couldn’t keep the house going like he used to. “He’s getting old and his bones are giving out,” she’d told Mia. “Thinks he’s still a teenager. He should have gotten married and had kids, that way we wouldn’t have to worry about him.”
Then she’d looked at Mia with a speculative gaze, and rubbed her chin with her thumb, the way she always did when she came up with an idea. “You know, he has a big house. And a bar to run. He could always do with the extra help.”
So here she was, standing in front of his old blue painted Victorian house with a wraparound porch and a cupola that made Mia think of gothic novels and hauntings. She’d never visited this house before, despite it being in her family for generations. When her grandmother had married and moved to Kansas City, that branch of the family had cut ties with Virginia, apart from letters and phone calls.
And now three of them were back.
Twisting her long blonde hair into a bun, Mia opened the trailer she’d rented for the week and pulled their overnight cases out. Sam had assured her there was
