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“They’re nice kids.”
“Where did they come from?” he asked.
Brooke made a wry face. “Reverend West rides again. They were waiting with Macy when I got to the church. The junior boys class, he claimed. These are the nerdy kids who are too intimidated to go out for ball in school.” She held up a hand. “Their words, not mine.”
“So you’re giving them a little summer workshop.”
She made a noncommittal noise. “Did you bring your gym shoes?”
He glanced down at his feet. “You’re kidding, right?”
She tilted her head, mocking him. “Take off your street shoes, buddy boy. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“We’ll have to leave pretty soon if we’re going to make the Rockies game.”
“Afraid of playing one-on-one with a girl?” Her dimple flashed.
“In a word. Yes.” He sat down on the low bench and untied his shoes. “But I love a challenge.”
Call him a glutton for punishment, but time with Brooke was all he thought about. Last night had made things worse. He was a man who knew better and yet, he was drawn to the woman like the proverbial moth to flame.
He bent to his toes, stretched his calves and rotated his neck and shoulders. Then he jogged onto the court and to the woman waiting with a sparkle and a challenge in her blue eyes.
Any day now she’d wake up and realize some guy her own age was better suited and more appealing.
Hopefully not today.
Top down, the scent of pine trees ruffling the wind, Gabe’s convertible ate up the curving roads from Clayton to Denver. To his pleasure, Brooke and Macy had both loved the Mustang. Brooke, who’d apparently been too distracted to notice the red machine yesterday had squealed, hopped over the door and demanded a spin around the block. Of course, he’d obliged.
Now they were nearing their destination, the Rockies’ ballpark, after picking up A.J. from Grandma’s. In his rearview mirror, he stole a quick peek at his baby perched high in a brown car seat. Kicked back and relaxed, talking a mile a minute to no one in particular, A.J. was in his usual good mood. Gabe’s heart filled. He’d missed the little man, and though A.J. loved his grandma, he’d gone wild with excitement when Gabe and Brooke walked in. Especially Brooke.
Even his mother had noticed. She’d noticed a lot more, too.
“Brooke seems like a nice girl,” his mother had said, cornering him in the hallway on his way to the bathroom. “Who is she?”
“A.J.’s nanny,” he’d said, reluctant to examine exactly how much more Brooke was than hired child care.
His mother had rolled her eyes. “Gabe. You’re my son. I see the gleam in your eyes when you look at her. You haven’t acted this happy since—” She paused, pursed her lips and finished, “Ever.”
His mother’s words stayed with him all evening. He was happy since moving to Clayton, and he’d almost forgotten how to be.
Gabe glanced at Brooke. Was she the reason?
She caught him looking and grinned as she beat a rhythm on the dash in time with the music pumping from the CD player. No doubt about it, Brooke was more than a nanny. The important question was, how did she feel about him?
Slowing, he geared down and eased into the flow of traffic to the ballpark.
Buckled in beside A.J., long blond hair lifting at the sides like wings, Macy’s eyes danced behind her hot pink glasses. She’d gone as ballistic as Brooke over the car and the trip to Denver. She was a sweet kid, and the better Gabe knew her, the sorrier he felt for her. With a sick mom and no dad, she hadn’t had many experiences. She’d never been to a pro game, never been to the Denver zoo or the National Park, never gone skiing or hiking or much of anywhere, and she knew next to nothing about relating to a male father figure. Gabe figured he and Brooke could remedy that.
“Almost there,” he called toward the backseat.
A.J. kicked his legs while Macy grinned. Beside him, Brooke yanked her Rockies ball cap from beneath the seat and slapped it on her head. “Ready to rumble.”
She was so cute Gabe had a hard time concentrating.
“Did you hear from Sheriff Diggers today?” he asked.
