steered the conversation in a different direction. “I want to apologize.”
“For?”
“Getting so upset when I saw Cody helping you this morning. It’s just that he seems too young to do that kind of stuff. But then I saw how happy he was helping you. Besides, I should have realized you’d make sure he was safe.”
Jared pulled at the leather strings on the baseball glove he’d been using. “No, you’re right. He is too young.”
“Did you do that kind of stuff when you were his age?”
“Yeah.”
“Like?”
He twirled the glove in his hand. “Like a hell of a lot harder things than mowing a damn lawn.” He motioned to the field, ending the discussion. “They’re done with warm-up. I’m gonna go grab a Coke before the game starts. What would you like?”
She wanted to ask him more, but one look at the hard set to his jaw, and she knew he wouldn’t answer. “A Diet Coke would be great.”
Even behind his dark glasses, she could feel the heat of his gaze. “Diet is the last thing you need. You’re getting a regular one.”
She watched his broad shoulders disappear into the throng of people standing in front of the concession stand. From all outward appearances, Jared appeared to have everything. But more and more, Jenny kept glimpsing a different side of him. A boy who grew up without a home. A teenager who did jobs more suited for an adult than a kid. A man alone who seemed to isolate himself from almost everyone and everything. Even as she tried to stop it, her heart reached out to him. He was making her life a living hell, but it didn’t seem to matter. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to fill the emptiness she glimpsed in him.
Jared returned with their drinks, and for the next two hours Jenny forgot her worries as she watched the kids play their hearts out. Cody pitched through five innings and reached base safely three out of his four trips up to bat. In the end, his team won by a score of eleven to three.
“Great game,” she said as they made their way back to the truck after handing out snacks. Jenny didn’t hear a complaint from the parents about her food choice, so she took that to be a good sign. “You looked like a real pro out there.”
“Thanks,” Cody said, quickly turning to Jared. “Didja see that double play Parker made in the second inning?”
“Just like a major leaguer.”
“Yeah.” Cody twisted off the top of his Gatorade and took a long swallow. “We creamed ’em.” He took another drink. “Thanks for the warm-up. It really helped.”
“Glad I could do it. Thanks for inviting me. I had a fun time.” There was nothing but truth in Jared’s voice.
When they reached the truck, Cody put his bag in the bed of the truck and hopped in the passenger side, leaving Jenny stuck in the middle again.
Seeing her hesitation, Jared just grinned.
“Behave,” she warned him for the third time, unable to forget the look of joy on Cody’s face when he talked to Jared.
“Always.”
“Never.” She climbed in. Jared slid in next to her and started up the truck. “How about we celebrate with some pizza?” she said.
“As long as you aren’t cooking,” they said in unison.
She bit back a smile. “And here I was even going to suggest we go out for ice cream, too.” Then she laughed, because she knew they’d end up having both.
It was nearly dark by the time they arrived back home. As they pulled into the driveway, Jenny saw her mom emerge from her beige Mercedes.
“It’s Grandma,” Cody said.
“Yes, it is,” Jenny said, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. She wondered what had brought her mom over so late.
“Hi, Mom,” she said as they piled out of the truck. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Except I’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour.”
“Sorry. I left the house without my cell. You’re sure everything is fine?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m just here to pick up Cody. Anna has to work later than planned, and she’d like me to take Cody home so he can get to bed at a decent time for school tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Jenny let out a relieved breath. Ever since losing Steven, she tended to assume the worst. Whether it was a middle-of-the-night call, the sound of a siren, or someone—even her mother—showing up at odd hours. “I’m sorry we’re home later than expected. We