Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Dear Mr. Beck,
Please call the office at your earliest convenience.
Sincerely,
Dr. Miigi
The world seems to slow down when I’m with them or think about them. My problems feel lighter. The future looks rosier. I don’t feel as trapped in my own head, or my own life, like I do when I’m alone.
It’s an odd sensation and one that I’m not sure what to do with. But I don’t hate it. Not even a little bit.
I motion for Palmer to join us.
“Guys, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Clark—Ethan’s mom,” I say as Palmer gets closer. “I’m sure most of you already know her. She’s going to be your team mom.”
“Hey.” She grins at the boys, then looks up at me with a hint of confusion. “Thanks for the introduction.”
It’s more of a question than an actual statement. It’s also adorable.
“Miss Clark is going to be in the dugouts with you and helping you with the lineup,” I say, ignoring the way Palmer looks up at me. “She’ll answer your parents’ questions and make sure you don’t choke on your sunflower seeds, Sandbox.”
Everyone laughs.
“I want you to treat her like you do me or any of the assistant coaches.” I pull a whistle out of my back pocket. “Welcome to the team.”
“Thank you,” Palmer says, grinning. “I even get my own whistle?”
“Just don’t use it a lot,” I say.
She laughs, and it’s music to my ears.
I place the whistle around her neck, trying my best not to touch her. She holds her hair off her neck as I lay the small lanyard against her. She smells warm, like coffee beans, and I want to bury my head in her hair and breathe her in.
“Before you guys go,” I say, ignoring the fire in my stomach, “I want you to stop by and say hello to Ted. Do you guys know him?”
“Ted from the butcher shop?” Braylon says.
“He usually helps out with baseball,” Sandbox says.
“That’s right.” I nod, shoving down the lump in my throat. “Please say hello to him. A big part of baseball is sportsmanship. He was supposed to be your coach this year but had a medical procedure. I know he misses being out here.”
Sandbox looks up at me. “So, will he be our coach next year? Or do we get you again?”
“Please say you,” Braylon says. “No offense to Ted, but you’re swaggy.”
“Swaggy?” I laugh. “Let’s do this one season at a time, all right?” I hold my hand in the air at an angle. “Give me ‘team’ on three.”
My hand is joined in the air by theirs.
“One, two, three—team!” we all say in unison before the group breaks.
Dirt is kicked in the air as the boys march off to say hello to Ted. I watch them shake the man’s hand . . . and him beam.
I get it. They’re a great group of kids, and coaching them has been entirely more fun than I ever dreamed. But they feel like my team now, and I’m trying to be an adult about it.
It’s harder than I thought it would be.
“Thanks for the hard whistle,” Palmer says, drawing me back to the present. “Really great description.”
I wink at her. “What did you think it was?”
Her cheeks flush as she laughs.
Damn this woman.
“You did great today, Ethan,” I say, needing a change of subject before my mind gets too carried away. “I saw that throw you made to your cutoff from center field. Nice job.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“I thought I got a little off with my mechanics.” He takes a step and pretends to throw a ball. “I’m working on it.”
“That’s all you can do—work on it.”
“I know how we can celebrate that,” he says. “Wanna go get a corn dog with us?”
My gaze shifts to Palmer. She’s smiling brightly. The reservation that I usually see in her eyes has weakened so much that I really have to strain to find it. Thank God.
“I could be convinced to have a corn dog for dinner,” I say, giving her the space to bow out if she wants.
But me? What I want to do is wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me. Kiss her forehead. Take her home.
“I think it would be fun.” Ethan looks at his mother. “Instead of you two sneaking around and having pizza without me, you could include me this time.”
Palmer gasps. “We weren’t sneaking around, and even if we were, it’s none of your business, child.”
He laughs. “So is that a yes, then?”
“Maybe I don’t want a corn dog,” she says, smiling.
“Fine. I’ll take Ethan, and we’ll get one without you,” I say, teasing her back.
Her hands find her hips. “Oh, no. You two aren’t going without me.”
“Then say yes,” Ethan says, practically bouncing on his toes.
As if it pains her to acquiesce, Palmer sighs. “Fine. Go get your stuff, and we’ll get a corn dog with Cole.”