Stef Ann Holm, Lucy Back [paper ebook reader .TXT] 📗

to be for real and it had to be honest. At this point, he wasn’t even sure what “for real” meant. He’d gotten used to Jacquie, and to the games they’d played with one another.

Timing sucked for him. He liked Lucy. But he was just out of a relationship and his daughter was coming to town. A tough mix to juggle, without adding one more thing.

So Drew told himself that he wasn’t going to think about Lucy. But then he caught his mind drifting to her. Like now. And then he stepped back from the dugout, glanced into the crowd and looked for her.

She sat next to Sue, talking, and wearing a pair of sunglasses that framed her face. Her hair shone reds and browns, the skin on her face slightly more tan than the last game. She’d been out boating with the Lawrences the other day. Drew would have gone, too, but he had too much to do to get ready for Mackenzie’s visit.

Lucy gazed in his direction, and he couldn’t help the tightness he felt in his chest, and the constriction in his lungs. She clearly fought against smiling at him, then gave in with a subtle upturn of her mouth. It seemed to be a struggle for her to let her guard down around him, but he remembered the taste and texture of her lips. The way her tongue swooped next to his, and the feel of her hands running over his back.

He had to fight the lust that curled deep inside his belly, and the feelings she brought out in him. When she’d come to cook during the days subsequent to her first visit, he hadn’t been home for one reason or another. It had been a busy week, with a committee meeting on the field’s new turf for next year, a luncheon down in Twin for the fall athletics board, and having new linens and a few “girl” things ordered for his spare bedroom.

This week, when he’d pulled into the drive, dead-ass tired, Drew wished he would have found Lucy’s car there. But she’d been gone and the meals were in the refrigerator with the reheating instructions.

Drew ducked back into the dugout and talked to Jason. “Eat your lunch, Carp.”

“Not hungry. I ate all of Nutter’s fries.”

“They sucked. Too salty.” Nutter’s athletic bag was under his rubber-cleated feet, and he didn’t seem to mind that he was dirtying up the canvas with clay, and dripping sauce from his Big Mac. Sipping a soft drink through the cup’s straw, he let out a long belch.

Brownie ripped a fart.

Then it became a free-for-all, and Drew shrugged, went to his clipboard and did some fine-tuning on the lineup.

The second game began and Drew threw his mind into coaching mode, directing players, talking to the umpire once to make sure a fair ball was called.

When they changed innings, he talked to Jason. “You dropped your shoulder too far back when you were hitting last time. Keep your shoulders straight and you’ll nail a line drive.”

“Okay, Coach.”

The boys sat back on the bench, Brownie up to the plate. The greasy smell of fast food permeated the sweat-stale air, giving Drew a second reminder he was hungry. His stomach made a noise.

Jason laughed, shoved his sandwich out. “Here. You eat it.”

Drew snorted. “I guess I will.”

He had to made fast work of the sandwich, getting in only two bites before he had to take to the field and question his other coach on a play decision.

By the time 3:30 p.m. arrived, they were only in the sixth inning. It was going to be tight. He nervously tapped his hands on a spare helmet, the drumming sound ringing through the confined area.

Jason sat next to him, gave him a scowl. “What’s the matter with you? You’ve been a few laces short of a shoe all morning.”

Nostrils flaring, Drew laughed. “Oh, yeah? And what made you the expert?”

“I dunno. I just seen you acting stupid. Like you’re thinking about a girl…or someone.”

Drew was surprised Jason had such a depth of understanding, but he couldn’t exactly admit he was stressed out about picking up his seventeen-year-old daughter who he didn’t know from jack. So all he managed was, “That obvious, huh?”

“Yeah. Who is she?” Jason’s brown eyes regarded him, staring hard. Seconds ticked by, the thwack of a ball and bat on the field breaking the silence. “It’s my mom, isn’t it?”

Not anticipating that one, Drew didn’t remark. His lack of a comment gave Jason free range to come to his own conclusion.

“I’m not stupid. I’ve seen how she is around you even though she tries to hide it. At last week’s game, you and her were talking, I saw how she smiled funny. She doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

Drew didn’t know what to say.

“So are you still hung up on Jacquie? Because if you are, I want you to stay away from my mom.”

“No,” Drew said abruptly. “I’m not seeing Jacquie.”

“I saw her and she was—” Jason’s expression grew markedly indifferent, as if he were contemplating saying something further.

His interest piqued, Drew asked, “Where did you see her?”

A shield went up on the boy’s face. “It doesn’t matter.”

Drew couldn’t get a feel for it, but there was something about Jacquie that Jason knew, and he wasn’t talking. There wasn’t anything Drew could do about it, and frankly, what Jacquie was up to now was none of his business. But clearly, Jason was worried his coach would do wrong by his mother.

“Jason, I like your mom,” Drew said, in the hopes of setting the record straight, but without getting into personal details. “She cooks for me and I think she’s doing a good job with you boys. You’re lucky to have her.”

“I know. You’d be lucky, too. Just don’t hurt her or I’d have to get really pissed off at you,” Jason said, before picking up his glove and running out to the field.

The boys took their positions and a long moment passed