“That was a hell of a catch you made earlier,” he said. “Too bad the dumbass playing short didn’t have his shit together.”
Ugh—he’d meant it as a joke, but as usual, he probably sounded clipped or cranky. He started to say as much until Ellie spoke over him.
“Whoa,” she mocked, her left eyebrow lifted in surprise. “I’d heard rumors that the cop had a sense of humor, but who knew it was true?”
Her response caught him so off guard he didn’t know how to respond, and thankfully he didn’t have to, because she kept talking.
“Look, Ponch, to hear Jayne talk, you’re like the Derek Jeter of slo-pitch, so hopefully you’ll understand this. Beer league or not, when I play, I play to win, because I don’t know how to play any other way. I also believe in the idea that we win as a team and we lose as a team, so no matter what happens off the field…”
She hesitated long enough to give him a pointed look, then continued: “When we’re here, we need to work together, not against each other. We’re all going to make mistakes, but dogging each other isn’t going to do anyone any good. Now, if that’s going to be some kind of problem for you—”
“What? No!” A problem? Was she crazy? She’d just voiced his exact philosophy, and if it had been any other woman standing there, looking that good and saying those things to him, he might have fallen a little bit in love right there in the on-deck circle. Shaking the crazy thought from his mind, Brett forced a swallow. “Not a problem. That’s, uh…good. Yeah.”
“Okay. Next time, though, get your arm behind the throw; I can’t save your ass on every play.” She started for the dugout again, then glanced back over her shoulder and smiled.
At him.
If the rest of the team weren’t already in the dugout, he’d have looked behind himself to see who the smile was really aimed at; since he was the only idiot left out there in the rain, it must have been for him.
Ellie smiled at him.
Not a smirk, sneer, or jeer—a real honest-to-God smile. Warm, easy, and natural, like a small burst of sunlight through the raindrops, like the spark of a lit match in a dark cave, like a flash of…
Holy shit, man, get a grip.
Brett stayed right where he was, watching her weave her way through the crowded dugout and out the other side to her bike. It wasn’t until Nick gave him a soft shove that he actually blinked, and by that time she was already riding away.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“What?” Even looking straight back at Nick, it took a second for Brett to see him. “Nothing. I’m, um, I’m good.”
“Then don’t just stand there—help me grab the bases.”
Another blink, this one a little longer, then Brett blew out a breath, shook his head, and hustled over to grab third, which he tossed into the back of Nick’s truck with the rest of the equipment.
“Thought you said most of the team had never played before.”
“No,” Nick laughed. “I said most hadn’t played together before. Everyone’s played some kind of ball before. Hell, Ellie played…”
He paused, then called over to Jayne. “Babe, what level ball did you tell me Ellie played?”
Before answering, Jayne reached inside the front seat of the truck and came back with a covered dish, which she held out to Brett. Then she tucked herself up next to Nick, who opened the side of his jacket and wrapped it around her.
“She was on the women’s national team for a couple years.”
Wow. Well, that explained not only her ability but her attitude toward the team.
“What?” Nick closed the glass door of the truck cap and grinned at Brett. “D’you really think I’d be stupid enough to ask you to play on a team that had no chance at winning?”
Honestly, Brett hadn’t thought about it at all. Nick was his friend; he’d told Brett he needed him on the team, so he’d agreed. Simple as that. Not including the other cops at the detachment, Nick was the first person Brett had met when he’d moved here, and he liked to think he’d helped get Nick and Jayne together. Okay, “help” might be a bit of a stretch, since his actions almost blew their relationship apart, but to look at them now you’d never know it.
Had Brett ever been that happy? He thought he’d been