Dallas blew out a shaky breath. “As in let’s not assume we’ll actually have sex again?”
“Do you really think we won’t?”
“Um…” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “That’s not the point.” She laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s a foregone conclusion, but I would like the record to show that we agreed to this.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Oh.” She held up one finger. “Another one…as in still no public displays of affection.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth. “Sure?”
She gripped my collar and pulled me closer, murmuring against my ear. “I’m sure.”
I pulled back. “Oh, so you’re just going to do me like that?”
“Yep.” She stood up and brushed her pants off. “I have to go. Double header. Next game starts in a few minutes.” She grinned. “Want to try on the spare uniform?”
I got up. “Nah, I’m good.”
She walked toward her group. “I think you’re scared.” Turning to me, she grinned. “No, you’re scurred.” Then, she took off.
An hour later, I was lying flat on my back in the grass after a fly ball hit me in the head. Dallas stood over me, her hand covering her smile. “Don’t say anything,” I murmured.
“What?” She shrugged. “I thought you realized your job was tocatchthe ball, not block the ball with your head.”
“The sun got in my eyes,” I lied. “Blinding, really.”
It was a wrap from the time I’d jogged out on the field until now. Softball had never been my game. But I wasn’t about to admit that in front of her family. It had started well enough. I’d missed the first ball hit to me, but I’d recovered nicely enough, tossing the ball to Dallas, who was playing first base this game. She’d caught it easily and had tagged the runner out. But the next time, I’d thrown the ball to the wrong base, which had resulted in a score for the other team. And when I’d gone up to bat, I struck out.
Dallas’ lips formed a dramatic sad face. “Aw, poor Lil’ Tink Tink.”
“Don’t do me,” I said.
She laughed. Again.
“Damn, Pres.” Dex scratched his head. “I thought you were athletic.”
Hell, I thought I was too. Until I realized softball wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be.Why did I let Mr. Young convince me to take his spot in center field? “Man, shut the hell up. I didn’t have the right shoes on.” Or the right glove. Or the right skills.
“Son—” Mr. Young shook his head, “—that was pitiful.”
Dex held out his hand. “Did you want me to help you up, or are you good?”
Dallas snorted. “It’s okay to get help.”
I swatted his hand away. “Move.” I rolled over on my stomach and stood. Slowly.
“Are you okay?” she asked me. “Maybe you should go sit down.”
I wrapped my arm around her and whispered against her ear, “On second thought, I think I do need help. But only from you.”
She beamed. “See? Was that so bad? It’s always better to ask for assistance.”
“Did you have to say that out loud?” I glanced over at Dex, who was pretending not to listen. Badly. “I have a rep to protect.”
Dallas patted my stomach. “Sorry, Preston. It’s too late for that rep.” She laughed. “At least as far as softball goes.” I squeezed her tightly, and she dissolved into more laughter. “Okay, okay. I’m done teasing.” She brushed her thumb over my war wound. “And I got you. I’ll let my family know I’m done and we can go.”
Chapter Eleven
