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He’d thought about that over and over, the way his name sounded in her soft voice, wondering if he’d ever hear it again. The plan in his head disappeared. All he could do was smile at her and hope she didn’t walk away.
“You seem to have trouble controlling your balls,” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she stood.
“Yeah, I could use some hands-on practice.”
“Good thing you’ve got two. Passing your balls from hand to hand should build up your control. Or try using your non-dominant hand to do most of the work—it’ll improve your focus.”
“I’ve tried those.” Frequently, the past couple lonely weeks. “What I need is personal, one-on-one training.”
She bent to deal with Minx and the captive baseball again. “I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding a partner for that.”
Her voice had lost its natural playfulness with that last comment. Time to switch tactics. He crouched beside her, close, but not quite touching hips and knees. Offered his hand to Minx for a sniff the dog couldn’t be bothered to give.
“Lasha told me you had Minx back home. I’m happy for you.”
“You’ve talked to Lasha?” The pretty blue eyes flashed to his face, wide and worried.
“A couple of times. First one was the Friday after I made the biggest mistake of my life.”
Andie’s hand stilled on the dog’s fur.
He wanted to reach for it and hold it so badly his fingers twitched. “She made quite an impression on my baseball team.”
“Lasha, out at a bar on a Friday night…I bet she did.”
“I should’ve listened to her then, but I was still in stupid asshat mode.”
“Oh,” the voice he’d missed so fucking much softened, “what’d she say?”
“Among other things, that I’m a shit-for-brains dickwad. Also, that you were head over heels for me. And that I don’t know you at all.”
“Well, she had parts of it right.”
“Parts?”
“Mmhmm. The dickwad part for sure.” The tiniest hint of a smile drew the corners of her lips upward. Then disappeared. Way too fast. Her eyelids fluttered as she looked down. “And…I was head over heels.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “You saidwas. Am I too late?”
“I won’t be a relationship where I’m not an equal partner, where I don’t have choices or the voice to state opinions, where I’m not part of the decision-making process, especially on the important things. Not again. No matter how I feel about…the person.”
Silence hung between them like a thick curtain. He hadn’t controlled her wardrobe or told her how to behave, as Scott had, but he’d sure as hell denied her a part in the decision about their relationship. He’d been a domineering jerk. In the worst way.
The packs of spectators on the bleachers erupted into hooting and yelling. Andie sprang to her feet and he followed, just in time to see Dylan in a rundown between second and third. She added her voice to the commotion, cheering for her son while jumping up and down.
The kid was doing a great job of deking out the infielders. Quick feet and good judgment, impressive for a twelve-year-old kid in a rec league.
Mason found himself hollering along with the rest. And when her boy made it safely to third, Mason automatically lifted Andie in a celebratory hug. Damn, her arms felt right when they closed around his neck. He held her tight, heat from her cheeks transferring to his face. He closed his eyes. Inhaled deeply, filling his head with the scent of her hair, her skin. The feeling of her tits against his chest, her heart pounding hard against his. He’d missed her so fucking much.
“Wait,” he said when she started to pull free. He dipped his head, let his lips hover a breath away from her soft pink lips. “I want to kiss you, but I know I have to earn that privilege back. And I will, if you let me. I fucked up and I know that.” Reluctantly, he let her slide down his chest and away.
“This isn’t the place…”
It wasn’t a resounding yes, but it wasn’t a no. He’d take any opening she gave. “Have dinner with me later.”
“It’s seven o’clock—I’ve already eaten.”
“Dessert. We can get ice cream and walk Minx through Southside Park.”
