“Are you kidding me?” He shook his head, half expecting her to make a crack about his temper. His teammates had started calling him Mercury the last time he’d gotten into it with an ump, as in his mercury rose faster than any other guy’s in the line-up.
“Absolutely not.” She pointed toward Jess. “She’s going to practice fielding line drives until sunset, just the same way you practiced like a fiend when a ball got past you at home plate. I’ll take Jess on my team any day.”
She turned back toward the practice, shouting encouragement to a redhead at the plate who bit her lip in concentration every time the pitcher wound up.
As he walked away from Naomi and toward his preteen doppelganger, Brody wasn’t really surprised at Naomi’s easy going attitude, her acute understanding of human nature. Those qualities were only a portion of many reasons he should have never let her go in the first place.
With a woman like that at his side, maybe he wouldn’t be spinning his wheels letting his temper railroad his career. Maybe he’d be letting the positive aspect of that—passion, she’d called it—fuel his ass forward in life. To be a better player.
Hell, maybe he could be a better person, too.
Picking up speed, he jogged toward where Jess waited, tossing herself fly balls and catching them on the run. Oh, yeah, Brody would help this girl with her game.
It was the least he could do since Jess had helped teach him a lesson he’d missed his whole adult life.
And considering that new understanding might be his ticket to feeling worthy of Naomi, the knowledge was pretty much priceless.
BRODY WAS MOBBED BY PARENTS after softball practice.
Naomi watched him try to make his way across the field to where she waited, sitting on the tailgate of her SUV. He signed autographs on auto club maps and fast food napkins—whatever the players’ parents had handy when they picked up their kids. He’d also signed all the players’ hats, leaving words of wisdom about the game on the insides of their brims.
Finally, he ambled over with his glove under his arm, his Aces ball cap jammed on his head backward.
“It’s not quite like the crowd at the All-Star Game.” She’d seen footage from the All-Star break enough times to know it was a media circus. Ticket prices were high, making the event less of a family affair and more geared toward the hardcore fans. “But they sure seemed pleased to have you here.”
Especially Jess. Naomi had been really touched to see the way Brody coached her, demonstrating the fluid mechanics of the most economical throws to first, second, third and home. Far from being over her head, the information had been quickly put to good use by the young player, taking her skills up several notches in the course of a few hours. Naomi knew the girl would never forget the lessons she’d received from a world-class player.
“Your team is great.” He tossed his glove in the truck and sat beside her on the tailgate. “I hope they beat the Braves Wednesday.”
She laughed, amused at the vehemence in his voice.
“We’ll do our best. Heaven knows if there are any line drives to the shortstop, we’ve got a guaranteed out.”
“Jess is a quick study.” He sat close to her so that his shoulder brushed hers. So that she couldn’t forget the potent effect he had on her despite her wishes to the contrary. “You’ve done a great job with the team.”
The simple praise touched her the way no extravagant compliment ever could have.
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat, aware of the emotion clogging it. “You know how much I’ve always liked sports. Softball’s my favorite, but I coach soccer, too.”
“I’ve heard the kids in town all want to be on your teams.” He peered out over the fields where another team had just started practice. There were four fields with a playground in the middle and a snack bar they ran during games that raised money for uniforms and new balls.
“You seem to hear a lot.” She couldn’t deny she was flattered about that.
“In particular, I heard you have some cool training films.” He turned to her, one eyebrow lifted in question.
Heat crawled over her cheeks.
“I use game footage from the local colleges and the major leagues and put together a fun instructional video to get them pumped up.” She kept her eyes trained on the monkey bars to avoid his gaze.
Unfortunately, he was having none of that. He cupped her cheek and turned her head toward him.
“I hear I’ve made the cut a few times.”
Her heartbeat accelerated at the heat of his stare.
“Anybody who gets a play of the day in the nightly highlight reels is in the running for my video.” She was a little defensive about it since Ryan had accused her of using her videos as an excuse to keep tabs on Brody’s career. “Long before we dated, I was sneaking on my radio at night to listen to the late games when the Aces played on the West Coast. Mom still pitches in the women’s league. My dad runs the men’s. You must remember that we took a family vacation to Cuba once, just to see some games.”
She took a breath, realizing she was rambling. Did she sound too defensive?
But Brody didn’t look at her like she was trying to cover up some big, secret crush on him by taping a few of his best plays. Not like Ryan had. Brody watched her with something like admiration in his eyes.
“You love baseball. Just like me.” He draped an arm around her shoulders, his thigh grazing hers. “You know how cool it is to talk to someone who understands the beauty of fielding a double play ball or the joy of fighting off impossible pitches to stay alive in the count when your team is down by a run in the last inning.”
She smiled. “It’s kind of like recognizing the skill of a five-tool player when you see Brody Davis knock one into the stands. Other fans see a two-run homer. I see the way you read the pitches and were ready for the curveball.”
His lips brushed her temple in a tender kiss. For a moment, she absorbed the closeness of the moment, allowing her mind to entertain the prospect of being with him again. Of talking about baseball. Touring around the major league stadiums with him or spending days here at the rec field, coaching kids. They’d always had fun together. And their amazing chemistry translated into the most spectacular sex of her life.
All at once she realized what a fool she’d been to let him back into her life. She’d been kidding herself to think she’d be able to get him out of her system by spending the night with him. Instead of proving her memories of him were overrated, she’d only learned that being with him was better than she remembered.
“Brody.” She eased away from him, needing to come back to reality before she got swept up in his world again, a world a long way from coastal New Hampshire.
But before she could explain why she needed to protect her heart, a truck pulled into the parking lot beside them, kicking up enough mud to spatter her shoes.
Incensed, she turned to tell the arriving parent to slow down. However, the silver Ford didn’t belong to any player’s family. She recognized the vehicle as the driver jammed the gearshift into Park and vaulted out of the cab.
Her ex-boyfriend, Ryan Patnode, strode around his truck to confront her. Actually, he appeared more like he planned to confront Brody since his eyes were glued to the Aces’ catcher, his stare hostile.
Confrontational.
All at once, she realized how similar in temperament these two men were and she wondered for the first time if she’d gravitated toward Ryan for a very particular reason. Holy rebound man, they were even built similarly with tall, athletic bods.
Ryan jabbed a finger in Brody’s chest and barked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”