“Just play the damn game,” someone shouted from the stands.
“C’mon,” Sorrow shouted back, “let him help her.”
“Hey, Taylor,” Billy called from first base. “If you don’t want me to write you up for public intoxication, you’ll give the lady a moment.”
Sorrow came to stand behind the catcher, her fingers twined in the chain-link fence. “Don’t mind him,” she told her sister quietly. “Take your time.”
Seeing how Laura’s hands were all wrong, Eddie said, “You almost got it. Now just choke up on the bat a little.” When she did the opposite, he simply wrapped his arms around her, nestling her body snug against his. He’d have sworn the touch of her skin on his brought an electric shock. She must’ve felt it, too, because she sucked in a breath that reverberated through his chest. He’d have liked to find a million different ways to take her breath away, and in that moment, he fantasized about a good half dozen.
“Get a room,” Scott shouted.
She stiffened, and he made a mental note to strangle his brother later.
“He’s an ass. Ignore him.” He bobbed his arms gently, trying to get her shoulders to loosen.
Women in the crowd began to cheer her on. “Come on, Laura!”
Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “Relax. Nice and easy.”
“I am relaxed,” she said, sounding far from it.
He pressed more closely against her. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“Not at all!” Her overly chirpy tone told him otherwise. “I got it from here. Thanks!”
He stepped back and made like he was simply studying her form as he let his eyes linger over those sleek, tanned legs and that tight butt, sticking out in the most adorable batting stance ever.
“You look great,” he said, meaning every word. “Eyes on the ball and swing.”
And God love her, but she swung and she hit that damned ball. The pitcher was too surprised to catch it, and it barreled to his right, and by the time the shortstop scooped it up, Laura had made it to first.
Eddie punched a fist in the air, whooping for her. Laura looked his way, and that beautiful face was beaming…right at him.
His heart swelled in his chest. Finally, finally, he’d won a smile. He grinned back, giving her a big thumbs-up.
She did a cute little bounce and wave, but it was that smile.
Her smile did him in.
Six
Helen was running late, and of course she was. She did this drill every morning. It would’ve been easier to herd cats than get her kids into the car on time. She’d wrangled the two youngest outside, but her oldest was still missing. With a quick check to her watch, she opened the screen door and leaned back inside.
“Luke,” she shouted. “Get down here right now. I’m gonna be late for work.” She waited. “Do you hear me? I’m leaving.” She pretended to shut the door, then paused. Nothing. She didn’t know why she even tried that one anymore—it never worked. She had a better idea. “Get down here this instant or I’ll tell Bear that it’s your fault I’m late. Maybe he can scold you instead of me.”
That brought his feet galloping down the stairs.
Luke appeared, and Helen’s breath caught. Though her oldest was only fifteen, something had happened in the past year. Where once there was a boy, she now saw the shadow of the man he’d be. And that man would be the spitting image of his father. She felt a pang, realizing their son wasn’t too much younger than Rob had been when they’d first met.
“Sorry, Mom. Ellie stopped up the toilet.”
She scowled and tossed down her purse. If she told that girl once, she’d told her a thousand times: not too much paper. “You get in the car. I’ll go take a look.” The last thing she needed was coming home to an overflowed toilet and flooded bathroom.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I dealt.” He shuddered. “I would’ve come down, but I wanted to fix it for you.”
“You’re too much,” she said, suddenly choked with emotion. Her boy might’ve looked like his dad, but he sure didn’t act like him, and thank heaven for that. Her Luke was always the caretaker, the peacekeeper, though sometimes it made her heart ache. She wanted him to be a boy—to have fun and get dirty. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Sorry I made us late.”