I loaded equipment in the back of my truck.
“Hey, hon,” Cindy called out.She leaned against the driver’s door of my truck.
Internally, I groaned.
Somehow her coat had fallen open, and her double-Ds were making a committed escape attempt from a tight, low-cut black sweater.She popped a hip like she was posing for a roadside calendar.“You got dinner plans?”
I had never—never—given Cindy so much as a whiff of encouragement.Apparently, my pants had done it behind my back.She’d been coming on strong since the season started three weeks ago.The woman was hot off divorce number two and far too desperate for me to consider dating her or even a one-time hookup, not to mention she was a parent of one of the kids.
“Whatcha say?”she pressed.“Milly might think you two are a thing, but I know you ain’t serious.”She dropped her voice like she was sharing classified intel.“I’ll bet you a pound of beef she’s still sneaking around with John Wilson on Sundays after church.”
I blinked.Milly?Sneaking off with the Baptist pianist?We’d gone out a few times—nothing serious, at least not inmymind.Hell, it had taken me an embarrassing amount of mental gymnastics just to figure out how to go in for a kiss with her.And when I finally did, it was exactly as awkward as I’d feared.
“I know you’re not lookin’ to get tied down.”Cindy flashed a grin like she’d closed the deal.“So.Dinner?”
“Sorry.Can’t.”
“Maybe you wanna skip dinner?”She gave me a slow body scan that landed squarely at my crotch, like she expected fireworks.
Nothing sparked.Not even a pop.
“Colton is headed to his dad’s tonight,” she added, like that sealed the deal.
“I’m on call,” I said.“And I’ve got paperwork.Charts.You know.Thrilling stuff.Maybe some other time?”
“Oh, sure.”She watched me grab my bat bag and toss it into the truck.“When are younoton call?”
Never.Especially not now.
I cleared my throat, which was the universal sign forplease let me escape with dignity.When it became clear I was not climbing into the truck with her standing there like a human roadblock, she finally stepped aside.
I gave a quick wave, mumbled something about next week’s practice, and peeled out before she could suggest dessert.
My phone rang on the drive out to the highway.“Hi, Mom.”
“How was your day, sweetie?”I heard water in the background.She must be doing dishes.
“Long.I just finished practice.”
“That’s so nice of you to continue to coach those kids, even after Roland passed.”
“I made a commitment.What did the doctor say today?”
“My blood pressure is better.I have to avoid coleslaw.Really just mayonnaise.You know your father loves his mayo.”She did too, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“That doesn’t mean you have to eat it.”
“It sucks getting old.Though God knows food won’t be what takes your father.That man doesn’t get high blood pressure or clogged arteries.I’m determined to keep it that way.”Her tone shifted into that light, casual voice she used when she was digging for information.“So, anything exciting happen today?”
She knew perfectly well Erika was back.
“Not much,” I said.
“Mm-hmm.Right.”I could picture her eyebrow arched.“I left some lasagna in your fridge.Pop it in the microwave for a few minutes.”
A smile tugged at my mouth.I could already imagine the Tupperware mountain with enough lasagna meals to last a week.She always seemed to know when my day was too long to cook.“Thanks.”
“Do you mind helping me with a little emergency house repair in the garage?”That was a trap.If she had me there, in person, she could grill me for whatever information she was trying to get.
