“You,” he states. “Seems like it’s hard admitting you might have feelings for me.”
Now it’s my turn to sputter, my eyes bulging wide. I guess I started this little charade. “Now wait a minute!”
“No point protesting now, hey look!” His head whips back to the field, where he points down the field to Deaton, dribbling the ball with a clear gap toward the goals.
The excitement of the crowd grows, and I instantly feel guilty for almost missing my child play, possibly about to score a goal. “GO DEATON!” Bradley yells through cupped hands.
I clap my hands over my head as I watch Deaton take the kick toward the goal, the little goalie dives for the ball but misses, and it sails into the back of the net. I’m elated for him as we all cheer and I watch his teammates run up to him and give him high fives, as well as pats on the back. Okay, it might be a practice game, but it’s a big deal to the kids when they score.
Deaton laps it up and runs over toward us waving. “Mom, Brad, did you see me?”
“Yes, we did, honey. Well done!” I beam at him, at the same time he jumps up in the air to high-five Brad at the sideline.
“Nice going, Deat. That was awesome,” Brad says as Deaton runs back to join his teammates. “You really wanna give them something to talk about?” Brad adds out of the side of his mouth as the game is about to start again.
Instantly, I’m intrigued. “As in?”
“As in, kiss me.” He curls his finger toward me, taking his eyes off the game for a second. Deaton has his back to us as the game continues.
I stare up at him and it’s like my feet are suddenly made of lead, or just plain frozen to the spot. “K-kiss you?”
“Might seal the deal for the posse over there, and they’ll stop handling me like I’m an object and don’t have feelings.” He casts me a wink for good measure. “It could just be the thing that pushes Mindy over the edge to take her meat hooks out of me.”
I press my lips together, even with the weight of what he’s suggesting. I mean, should I go for it? Would that be irresponsible parenting with my son mere metres away?
Casting my eyes quickly to the field, I can see the whole team is practically in the center, their coach is telling them to spread out and watch the ball. “Do you really think?—”
“I really think it could help,” he says, then rolls his lips as he adds; “Just imagine it’s like seven minutes to Heaven.”
I snort a laugh, then I find myself shrugging, it’s like my shoulders are moving all on their own. “I guess for your own safety, it couldn’t hurt. But fair warning, it’s been a few years since seven minutes to Heaven.”
His cheek pulls up in a smile and I turn my body toward him.
“So, just a quick peck?” I clarify, “I mean, I wouldn’t want Deaton to see and?—”
Out of nowhere, Brad wraps an arm around me and pulls me to his side. I gasp from the movement, my heart thudding a million miles an hour. Is he really going to kiss me at my son’s soccer practice? He wraps his other arm around me and pulls me into a hug. “You’re so fucking cute, do you know that?” he breathes close to my ear, his breath warm on the side of my face. “And the sexiest mom here if I do say so myself.”
My breath hitches because that can’t possibly be true. Mindy might be a gossiper and a little-miss-know-it-all, but she’s a full-blown babe. There’s no denying it, even by me. “Sexy?” I laugh. “I smell like cake batter.”
“And I’m all the better for it,Mama.”
My insides do a flip, and so does everything else when I feel his finger under my chin, slowly tilting it up so I look at him. “You are?”
“I love that you smell like your bakery.”
I blink up at him as he dips his head, and I feel my heels lifting to reach him, he’s a breath away from meeting my lips when I hear loud voices yell, “LOOK OUT!”
Just as we break apart, we both gasp as the soccer ball comes flying toward us, it narrowly misses Brad’s head as he deflects it away from landing on me.
My hand flies up to my heart, from not only nearly being smacked out by a wayward soccer ball, but from Brad’s close proximity and that musky scent, mixed with a little spice. It’s so him, and I feel temporarily dizzy and disorientated, that almost-kiss humming over me like it actually happened. And if it weren’t for Brad holding me up, I might even lose my footing in front of everyone. Brad swiftly throws the ball back to the coach like nothing happened, and I let out a breath. “Now that was a close call.”
Chapter Thirteen
BRADLEY
A close call.No shit.
We’re engulfed by a swarm of kids after the ball, then the referee blows the whistle and practice is over.
