Go Away, Darling - Alexis Anne Page 0,12

more fishing stories and Linc started babbling about his week with his dad.

I brought Chris’s beer over, then wandered down the dock where I could still hear, but not feel so overwhelmed by all the things I was feeling. I didn’t understand any of them. Why was I reacting to this stranger? Was Chris a stranger? I didn’t know him, not really. Spending a year with him when he was a kid and watching him pitch on television didn’t mean I knew him.

And yet it felt like I did. I felt like our conversation this afternoon and this evening had given me a snapshot of who he was as a person. Sometimes grumpy, highly successful, kind to kids, and neighborly.

My ears perked up when Chris’s voice rose an octave. “What?”

“My dad doesn’t live here. He lives in Tampa. He has this cool house on the water and a pool with a slide. I was just there.”

“Why doesn’t your dad live here?” Chris asked.

I turned to stop the conversation. I didn’t know why.

Linc shrugged. “Why would he? This is where mom and I live.”

It dawned on me at about the same time as Chris. When I said I wasn’t single earlier today on the boat, I’d meant Linc was my world. I didn’t date because I wasn’t ready to introduce any new men into our lives.

But Chris had taken it to mean I was married, or at the very least in a committed relationship with Linc’s father.

His brows rose, his lips twitched, his eyes found mine. His expression was all excited and hopeful. He tilted his head toward Linc. “You’re single, aren’t you?”

I got the very distinct impression that if I said yes I was opening myself up to something. What exactly that something was I didn’t know. But it scared me.

“Gosh, I wish Mom would go on a date already!” Linc exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

It sent a shower of fish scales toward Chris, who naturally stepped back. Except he was already on the edge of the dock. His arms went out and waved, his heels teetered on the edge of the boards, his eyes bulged.

And for the second time today...he went tumbling into the water.

“Oh no!” Linc yelled, running over. “Man overboard!”

Chris splashed and yelled, finally righting himself and standing up. “Damn it! Second time today!”

And that was kind of funny. Except that it also wasn’t. I was the reason for both his falls. “Are you okay?” I came to an awkward stop beside Linc, just barely keeping myself from going in next.

Chris looked up at me. The smile was back. The glorious, hopeful, dazzling one that made me feel weak in the knees. “Oh, I’m just fine.”

“I’ll get you a towel.”

“Nope,” he said sharply, drawing me up short. “You stay right there. Look me in the eye, Liv.”

I found that his commands were impossible to say no to. I froze and my gaze locked with his, all without me consciously deciding to do so.

His smile softened. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll be home in a week. I’ll stop by.”

“Yeah!” Linc yelled. “Wait, where are you going?”

Chris answered without looking away from me. “I’ve got games to play little man. But don’t you worry. When I get back, you and I are going to catch another fish and make your momma a nice dinner. Sound good?”

I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. Every word out of Chris Kaine’s mouth seemed to remove more of my feeling or ability to form coherent thoughts.

“It’s a date, Chris,” Linc said, leaning over the dock, “I always wanted to make dinner for Mom but I don’t know how to make anything but peanut butter and jelly.”

“I’ll teach you,” Chris said, starting to step backwards. “Next week.”

“Where are you going?” I asked. He kept moving further away and it was almost impossible to see him in the dark.

But I saw one last twinkle in his eyes before he chuckled, “I figure I’m already wet, might as well swim home.”

4

Speaking of love…

Chris

The game was not going well so I was warming up in the St. Pete Mantas bullpen. Normally we wouldn’t get too worked up over a loss like this but things had gotten serious fast. Losing this game would mean no longer having the playoff position we had in our hands a week ago.

So here we were, headed into the seventh inning with our third pitcher of the game and it wasn’t looking good.

I threw a fastball that went straight down the middle,