I walk down to where Sutton is standing, head lowered and hands in the pockets of his jacket, obviously trying to remain inconspicuous as he watches one of his nephews play baseball.
“Hey, you,” I say softly.
He looks up, startled, then his mouth curves into a wide grin, the surprise and happiness at seeing me instant, making me feel warm all over.
“Hey. Where’d you come from?”
“James and I just finished at the library. It was too nice of a morning just to go home. I know he needs more friends and closer connections, so I thought coming here for a bit might help.”
At that, we both look over at the playground and see James running around with a few other kids.
Smiling, he nods. “Looks like it was the right call.”
Seeing James laugh and play, my shoulders lower.
“Your eye is looking better.” His gaze moves over me, like he’s checking for any other injuries.
“Yep, I’m brand new.”
“Your hair’s darker?” he observes, and I run my hand over my long hair.
“Yeah. It needed to be freshened up.” I hide any sadness I have from making my blond tresses darker with a fake grin. “Got to hide those grays,” I lie through my teeth. Noticing James running around, I take the opportunity to change the subject.
“Odd, he usually only runs that fast when Rochelle’s cupcakes are up for grabs.”
“Food must be a universal motivator. My nephew, Kevin, demanded pancakes before the game, half a stack minimum.”
I laugh lightly, loving seeing this casual side of Sutton.
“Sounds like he knows where to find the good stuff. Let me guess… you’re the indulgent uncle with questionable boundaries?” I raise an eyebrow in jest, but my grin is genuine.
Sutton makes an act of clutching pearls at his neck. “Ouch. I prefer ‘supportive with flair.’ Though I think James just tried a backflip in the playground, so you might be the one raising a daredevil.”
“Daredevils we are not.” I shake my head, looking down at the playground again, wondering how I feel so at ease with the man next to me.
“Oh, Kevin is up.”
My head whips to the field as Sutton stands taller, looking intently at the game. I can tell he wants to cheer, but he can’t, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
“He looks confident,” I say, hoping that one day James can maybe join a team like that.
“He’s a great little player. Sawyer is part owner of The Mets, so he’s had a few clinics with the pros and learned a few things.”
“I haven’t been to a game since my dad had season tickets right behind home plate. The ones with the valet and the private sushi chef. Spoiled me for stadium peanuts forever.” As soon as the last word leaves my lips, I slap my hand over my mouth. Sutton looks at me quickly; meanwhile, we both miss Kevin’s hit as the ball flies over the field and he gets a home run. The only way we can tell is from all the shouts of excitement we can hear from the crowd.
“Season tickets, eh?” he says with lifted eyebrows. My heart is pounding so hard I feel sick. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody.” Even when Sutton winks at me, I’m still frozen, shock taking over me as my hands start to shake.
“Hey, hey.” Shaking his head, he speaks with a gentle tone, his brow now furrowed. “I mean it. Your secrets are not mine to share.” He reaches for my hand, removing it from my face. Bringing it down to my side, he holds it in his, not letting me go. My shortness of breath is now not just due to shock, but also the heat that travels through my body at the feeling of his touch.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I should’ve cycled straight home. Of course the one time I deviate from our usual plan, things get messy.
Sutton still doesn’t let go of my hand. Not yet. His thumb brushes the inside of my wrist once, his touch barely there, and I melt a little. It feels nice. Too nice. The kind of feeling you get when you want more. It’s been a long time since I felt the touch of a man like this.
A whistle blows from the field, and we both turn, grateful for the distraction. Kevin’s coach is waving him over, while James has collapsed into a giggling pile of dirt with two other boys.
“You know, if you ever want a fresh start that isn’t just a new hair color… I’m good at disappearing. Could give you a few tips.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Disappearing’s easy. It’s the reappearing that’s hard.”
