Spotlight (The Holland Brothers Book 4)

We had a road game on Saturday afternoon in Vegas. It’s our fourth win in a row and the flight home feels like a party. The guys are all in a good mood, playing cards and listening to music. JT tells stories from previous seasons—the wildest, funniest things that have happened in his years with the Mustangs, and I take it all in.

I want to celebrate with the guys and feel that same sense of excitement for how great the season is going – we’re proving to everyone that we’re better than they gave us credit for. And just maybe we have what it takes to go all the way this year. But my mind keeps drifting to my dad.

I didn’t really expect him to show since we’re on the road, but there’s always that hope. I can’t help but feel like I did something wrong. Last year he went to every game, traveling all over to watch me, and now that I’m finally making something of myself, he’s all but disappeared. If I didn’t call to check in, would I ever hear from him?

I think of Greer and her dad. Olivia said they talk every Sunday and at the time I thought that was sort of sad, but I’d give just about anything to know my dad was going to call every week at the same time. The not knowing, the second-guessing and mulling it all over and over, is the worst part.

“Hey.” JT drops into the seat next to me. “What are you doing back here? You should be celebrating. You are the man of the moment. All those teams that passed you over are kicking themselves.”

I flash him a weak smile. “Tired, I guess.”

“Tired?” He huffs a laugh. “What, like you threw for seven innings or something?”

He breaks out into a wide smile. “Thank you for this season.”

I look at him with confusion.

“I know you didn’t want to be here, but you’ve given these guys something they haven’t had in a long time.”

“A better winning average?”

“Hope,” he says.

“Holland!” Gunnar yells my name in his big, booming voice. Then he and Bo appear in the aisle next to JT.

“What’s up?” I ask them.

“I’m having a party at my place tonight. JT can give you the address.”

“Actually, I have⁠—”noveldrama

JT elbows me before I can finish the statement. “We’ll be there.”

Once they’re gone, I say, “I can’t stay long. I have something I need to do.”

“Yeah, me too, but you have an hour. After that, they’ll be drunk and partying and no one will notice when we cut out.”

I nod. He’s right and I know it’s a big deal to be included, but all I want to do is see Olivia and Greer. It’s been three days and that’s three days too long.

As JT predicted, about an hour after arriving at Gunnar’s, the party is so big and wild that no one cares when we head out.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I say to Gunnar.

“We have a tradition.” He places one hand on my shoulder.

“What kind of tradition?”

JT takes my phone from my hand. I give him a strange look but then Gunnar picks me up.

“What are you doing?” I ask, gripping his big biceps to steady myself.

He marches toward the pool and his intent becomes clear.

“Woah, woah, woah.”

“Sorry, Holland,” he says seconds before he tosses me into the pool. When I surface, the party is cheering and laughing.

Gunnar is waiting by the side. His hand stretched out to me.

“Like I’m going to trust you,” I say and move to the pool wall next to him to pull myself out. My wet clothes are heavy and it’s a struggle.

He grabs a hold of my arm and helps, then pulls me into a bear hug, crushing me against his huge chest, water splashing around us. “You’re one of us now, Holland.”

It’s getting dark when I pull up in front of Dad’s house. After the party, I went home to change and then planned to go straight to Olivia’s house, but when I got in my truck, it seemed to have a mind of its own.

Dad’s Harley is in the driveway, and I spot Terri in the front yard trimming her rose bushes.

She smiles at me as I get out of the truck. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hi, Terri. Is he here?”

“In the garage.” She tips her head in that direction.

“Thanks.”

The one-car garage is on the right side of the house. As I walk around, the door is open, and rock music plays from an old radio on a workbench. For a moment, I’m struck with the familiarity of it. A memory floats just out of grasp. Dad tinkering on his bike in the garage, music playing. There’s something simple about it that feels like home.

The hood is up on his truck and Dad bends over the engine.

“Timing belt acting up again?” I ask him.

He glances up, then stands tall as a smile pulls at his lips. “Flynn. What are you doing here?”

He wipes his hands on a rag and then comes toward me, holding his arms out for a hug.

“It seemed like the only way I was going to see you,” I say as we pull back.

He looks me over like he hasn’t seen me in a long time, which to be honest is accurate. “You want a beer?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I can’t stay long.”

He grabs a bucket and flips it over for me and we take a seat across from each other.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks.

“I hadn’t heard from you or seen you. I wanted to see how you were.”

“Good.” He bobs his head up and down. “I saw the highlights from your game in Vegas. Another win. You’re having a hell of a season.”

I wish I could feel the pride in his voice, but I’m too stuck in my head. Is he really that proud if he can’t even make it to a game?

“What’s new with you?” I ask.

“Not much. Getting ready to head out on the road again next week, so I’m getting the truck fixed up.”

“Where are you headed?”

“A friend is building a house about an hour north of here and needs some guys for the job. He has a camper I can hook up to the truck, so I won’t have to drive back and forth.”

An uneasy sensation builds in my gut. “How long will you be gone?”

“A month, maybe two. Depends on how fast things go.”

I nod and then something hits me. “You’re going to miss your birthday party.”

He gives me an apologetic smile. “I don’t care about my birthday, and I doubt anyone will miss me.”

“I will.”

He smiles softly, but I can’t mimic the expression. I’m pissed. This is such bullshit and so typical that I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming.

“I don’t get you.” My voice comes out louder than intended. “I thought you wanted to repair things with us.”

“I do. You and I are good.”

“Are we? I haven’t seen you in months, you don’t call or text, you haven’t come to any of my games this season.”

He looks like he has a retort ready, but I don’t give him time to speak.

“And what about Archer? Things were finally getting better between you two. Have you reached out at all?”

I know the answer by the guilty look on his face.

“I can’t keep making excuses for you. I keep saying you’ve changed, but you haven’t. Not really. You’re the same selfish guy that comes and goes as he wants without thinking about anyone else.” God. I feel so stupid.

“It’s just a party.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s another time that you’ve dipped out on us. How many more chances do you think you’ll get with Knox and Hendrick?”

“None, I expect. They wrote me off a long time ago,” Dad says as if that’s all the rationale he needs for not going.

“Which is exactly why you should come. They’re giving you an opening, and you’re shitting all over it. Nothing is going to change unless you make the first move. Maybe that isn’t fair, but that’s parenting. You walked out on us, and now you have a chance to fix it.”

“If I’m such a disappointment, then why are you here? Sounds like you’re better off without me too.” His jaw flexes in a way that reminds me of Knox. And then the memory comes into full view. It isn’t Dad working in the garage listening to music, it’s Knox. Dad wasn’t around because he was never around. But my brothers were. They raised me. I am who I am because of them. I owe them everything. Maybe that isn’t how I want the story to go, but it is. How it happens from here on out is on him.

“Do you know what it’s like for your own father not to give a shit about you?” A sardonic laugh leaves my lips. “Let me just tell you, it fucking sucks. I spent my whole life looking for you in the stands, wondering where you were and why you couldn’t make it. I’d never wish that on anyone.”

He says nothing, though, what is there to say?

“The past is the past, Dad. I don’t hold that against you. I never have. But what you do from here on out will determine the relationship that we have.” I stand from the stool, ready to leave, but there’s one more thing I need to say. For me, for Greer, for every kid like us.

“Someday I’m going to have kids, and I’m going to be there for them in all the ways you weren’t. Every game, every birthday, every milestone. I won’t be like you, and they won’t grow up questioning whether or not their dad gives a shit about them. I let you have a lot of chances to be in my life, but you’ll get a lot less to be in theirs. I will protect them from you the same way Knox tried to protect me from you. So, it’s on you. Come to the party, or don’t. But decide if you’re in or out once and for all.”

I get it now. I know why Knox has carried a chip on his shoulder all these years and why he was so reluctant for me to have a relationship with Dad. He was trying to keep me from feeling the very thing I feel right now.

I take one last look at my dad. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I feel okay about that for the first time.