Dipping In A Toe (2 page)

“Coach?” His grip loosened, but his hands still held on. “The name’s Rick.”

The strength of his long fingers on my arms, holding me in place, felt good. Hell, sharing a few words with a male adult was a great experience.

I scanned his face, noting the crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes and his firm lips surrounded by a blondish-brown goatee. He really was a handsome man. Afraid of what he’d see in my expression, I dipped my chin, which only directed my gaze right toward his tanned, muscular legs. Such nice legs. “Okay…Rick. I should have been paying better attention.”

“Doesn’t matter. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

My head came up, heart rate beating like a flutter kick. “You did?” Had he possibly taken notice of me in the same way I’d noticed him? Maybe because of today’s outfit?

His feet shuffled on the concrete deck as someone brushed close but his gaze held steady. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about how much Adam has improved. He must be doing something else to develop his endurance.”

Adam? This conversation was about my son’s performance? Rick wasn’t sharing a personal comment. Sheer pride kept my shoulders from sagging in disappointment. “I noticed. And I know I have”—I cleared my throat and started again—“all the parents have you to thank.”

My skin tingled where his roughened fingers still gripped my arms. A protective gesture that made me want to melt against his body. The exact type of gesture that I’d missed for so long. “He started a bicycle paper route about a month ago. Maybe that’s why.”

“A job like that would certainly help. Plus he has a great cheering section.” He crimped his lips and gave a slow wink.

“Er, Mom, why is Coach holding you?” Sadie waited close by, dressed in shorts and her swim team shirt. A vinyl beach bag decorated with pink flowers holding her suit and towel hung from her hand.

At Sadie’s question, I pulled free and scanned the area, instantly aware that others may have wondered the same thing. Not good to draw attention to this infatuation I was trying—and failing miserably—to hide. I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear and my bracelets jangled.

Christy stood a few feet away, next to her kids, but her arched eyebrows telegraphed her rampant curiosity. Other faces in the crowd blurred, but several—the Olsons, Sally Nelson, and Nan Truitt—were turned in our direction.

The curse of living in a small town. My body stiffened and my chin rose. “Um, we bumped into each other and he was helping me balance.” Even to my own ears, the truth sounded like a flimsy excuse. I linked my arm through hers and swung her around. “Let’s go find your brother. We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

“Wait, Jessa.”

Unable to resist the underlying command in Rick’s voice, I looked over my shoulder. Did he have something personal to say?

His gaze shot upward from viewing my legs, a grin quirking the corner of his mouth. “See you at Pizza Palace?” He waited, standing with legs apart and arms crossed over his chest—the perfect image of a confident male.

“We’ll be there.” When I headed toward the group of jostling teen boys, I couldn’t deny the spring in my step and the sizzle running through my bloodstream.

He’d noticed
.

Chapter Two

“Mom, we’re gonna be late.” Adam slouched against the car’s passenger door and adjusted his music player earbuds.

“Not too late, buddy.” I glanced toward the electric door of the discount women’s store. “Besides, you don’t want me showing up at your team pizza party with a big punch stain on my clothes. Wouldn’t that be more embarrassing than being a few minutes late?” Not to mention my unwillingness to look like a bedraggled mom to one male in particular.

“Whatever.” He shot me a sideways look, shrugged, and leaned his head against the window. “I’ll wait here.”

“Coming, Sadie?” I opened the door and stepped out. The asphalt parking lot reflected the heat of the late afternoon sun. “Adam, leave your door open a few inches. The car will heat up fast.”

The back door slammed and hurried footsteps followed. “I’m sorry I spilled.” Sadie apologized again, twisting her long blonde hair around a pointer finger. “I should have just asked for water. Does Grandma think we still like that sweet red stuff?”

My purse clutched in one hand, I dashed across the lot with Sadie close behind. “Accidents happen, honey.” In the store’s entrance window, the blurred image of a harried woman, hair flying around her shoulders and eyes wide, greeted my approach.

I stopped and took a deep breath.
Quit acting like a mad woman
. “I don’t know why she still buys that punch, but accepting what’s offered was the polite thing to do.”

I reached out and squeezed Sadie’s hand, grateful she still enjoyed this closeness. “Now help me pick out the color of shorts to buy.”

Hands still clasped, we rushed to the racks displaying clothes in my size. I looked over the selection, snapping each hanger as I searched. Due to the lateness of the season, the choices in summery shorts were few. Most of the clothes were in dark shades and long lengths for fall.

“Hey, Mom, what about a skirt? This one sparkles and you don’t have anything like it in your closet.”

At the excited note in Sadie’s voice, I turned and spotted her holding out an ivory crinkle-fabric skirt with swirling silver accents. “That’s nice but shorts are more practical.”

“But the sparkles are pretty.” Her lips puffed into a pout as she jiggled and twisted the hanger. “Listen…it swishes.”

The fabric did hang nicely. Her hopeful tone pierced my heart, but the wobbly smile was what did me in. She was trying so hard to make up for the punch accident. Besides, what woman could resist such a feminine sparkly skirt? “Sadie girl, it’s perfect.” I crossed the short distance to where she stood.
Oh, please let there be one in my size
.

Twenty minutes later, I turned into the Pizza Palace driveway and thought I spotted a tall, blondish man at the entrance. By the time I found a parking place, I was sure I’d imagined one particular man had been waiting for our arrival.

Preparing for the arguments I’d heard on several other occasions, I turned, wallet in hand, toward the middle of the car and looked at my kids. “Okay, gang, what’s our deal?” I held up two bills.

Adam unlatched his seat belt and cracked open his door, his lanky body already halfway out of the car. “Ten dollars each in tokens.”

Being on a budget sucked, especially since the practice was a new one. One more aspect of being a single parent.

Dylan had been more spontaneous—his philosophy was to live in the now and let the future take care of itself. He’d thought we had plenty of time to build up our nest egg—not the greatest plan for a family man.

Now these decisions were mine to make. In my heart, I knew the budget lesson was a good one. One they’d carry through the coming years. “And what happens when those are gone?”

“Then we watch.” Sadie inched forward in her seat, her gaze fixed on the restaurant’s entry door. She looked back at me and waggled her head. “And no begging.”

“All right, game plan is set. Give me a high five.”

We slapped open palms and I ignored Adam’s muttered “too lame.” I knew I was stretching this family tradition but after Dylan’s passing, I’d vowed to keep their lives as unchanged as I could—at least on issues within my control.

Only moments later, we were surrounded by the rich scents of baking garlic, tomatoes and cheese, and the shouted greetings from our friends inside the restaurant. I waved to several people, looking for an empty space where we’d fit among the tables overflowing with people, food, and drinks.

Husbands not present pool-side at the meet were now paired with their wives, making me feel even more like an outsider. Families sat together in booths or around tables as self-contained units. Familiar youth materialized, as if from thin air, and pulled my kids off toward the arcade room, leaving me on my own.

Her hand waving me closer, Christy scooted toward the middle of her seat in the booth containing her family. “Come on, Jessa. We’ll scoot tighter and make room.”

“No need, Christy.” A deep voice behind me sounded. “I saved a space for Jessa at my family’s table.”

A warm hand rested on my lower back, making me jump. “Oh, really?” I glanced over my shoulder and connected with Rick’s intent blue-eyed gaze. I was to meet his family? My heart beat a bit faster.

“I knew you’d be alone the moment your kids hit the arcade.” With gentle pressure, he moved forward between the occupied tables. “This way, you’ll have someone to talk to.”

Warmth from his hand seeped through my tank top. For just a second, I savored the special sensation, that protected feeling, that had been missing from my life but then stepped away. This man made me feel too much too soon. “That’s okay. I can find my own—”

“Sorry.” His body stilled and he ran a hand through his hair, tousling the thick strands. “I sure mixed those signals, didn’t I?”

One look at the surprise widening his eyes and I felt the pinch of embarrassment. How could I deny the weeks I’d spent staring, watching his athletic moves as he paced the side of the pool coaching the swimmers? “No, you were right.” I nodded and then realized what I’d said.
God, me and my big mouth
. Heat seeped up my neck. “I mean…I do need a place to sit.”

“Great.” With a wide grin, he bowed and swept a hand to the left, toward the far end of the restaurant. “This way.”

After walking several steps across the green linoleum floor, I saw a middle-aged man rise from a group at the far end of a long wooden table. The physical similarity to Rick confirmed this man’s identity.

“Jessa Langdon, this is my dad, Mike, and my mom, Shirley. And my Aunt Helena.” He stepped past the older woman and rested a hand on the shoulder of a petite blonde. “I think you know my sister, Heather, and my brother Matt is probably in the arcade with Cameron and Annie.” As he ran his gaze over the group, he jerked his chin in her direction. “Jessa’s kids are on the team—Adam and Sadie.”

So many of them. Shirley had wire-rimmed glasses and gray curls. Helena wore her gray hair in a bob and painted on her eyebrows with a quizzical arch. I managed a polite smile. “Hello all.”

“Stake out some bench, sweetie,” Helena spoke as she shook a plastic glass in the air. “We’re working on a pitcher of draft beer and another of root beer. What’ll you have?”

Rick leaned close and whispered, “She’s the shy one.”

I met his teasing gaze and bit back a giggle. Happiness bubbled through me. Joining him and his family had been a good idea. “I’ll take a beer, thanks.”

At times during the next twenty minutes, my neck switched direction like I was on the sidelines of a tennis match, and I barely kept up. Sports teams, books, movies—conversations overlapped and circled the table. In between enjoying savory pizza and tangy beer, Rick and I debated the merits of a rookie pitcher on the local pro baseball team.

“He’s got a great fast ball.” Rick gestured with his pizza slice. “But so does just about every other pitcher this year.”

“My boss took several of us from the office to an exhibition game last week. I saw Grimes throw a slider that was clocked at eighty-seven miles per hour.” My hair bounced over my shoulders as I shook my head. “No one could hit it.” How long since I’d talked about the one major sport I love?

Helena pointed a pastel-colored fingernail at her nephew. “Nobody could hit Ricky-boy’s change-up pitch.”

The pride in his great-aunt’s voice was unmistakable. “Change-ups are tough.” With a wide smile, I turned to him. “You played?”

A wide shoulder shrugged. “Attended college on a baseball scholarship. Team went to the national championships during my senior year.” Rick’s eyebrow rose in a questioning arch. “Sounds like you know a bit about the game.”

“Dad coached my older brother’s junior baseball team for a couple years. And I dated a baseball player or two in high school.”
Jeez, I sounded like a sports groupie.
“So, how far did you go?”

“A few years of Double-A ball in the Texas league before my arm gave out. My final year was as a relief pitcher but I didn’t display enough stamina.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” My breath caught in my throat. I knew a bit about life shortchanging your plans.

“Nah, my batting average was never high enough to make the jump to the majors.” As he explained, he rested an elbow on the table. “So I worked for my teaching credential, taught high school for a couple years in Texas, and moved back to Lorenzo last summer. Family issues weighted my decision in favor of moving back.”

He grinned, displaying a front tooth with a small chip on one edge. “I wouldn’t trade teaching my students for another shot at the show.”

As he talked, my gaze kept returning to his mouth. Did the goatee surrounding it provide a frame that pulled my attention to his lips? No matter why, I was intrigued by this man. The conversation proved enlightening plus I was thrilled to finish several sentences in a row without interruptions. Even better was having someone listen to my opinions.

Because of the buzz of other conversations and the electronic beeps and whistles of the arcade games, we had to lean our heads close—definitely an enjoyable experience. I inhaled and scents of sage and musk tickled my nose. Overhead lights flashed on the blond streaks in Rick’s hair, making him look younger…almost boyish.

Until this moment I hadn’t even thought of how old he might be. On the swim team, he coached his nephew—not his own son. College, Double-A ball, teaching—that amounted to only about eight or nine years past high school.

Yikes! My body stilled. Exactly how much younger was he?

Chapter Three

Rick’s hand cupped my shoulder, fingers stroking in a casual circle. “Can I pass you another slice?”

Two was usually my limit but for some reason I still felt hungry. My gaze took in his handsome features and I bit back a sigh. Rick’s appreciative look indicated he saw me as a real woman—and I couldn’t find a reason for him to stop. Right now, in this public place, pizza seemed the safer avenue for satisfying that hunger. “Sure, how about a piece with sausage this time.”