“The basement?”
“Ha, no. The kitchen. I spend the most time there. This is my favorite gift. Thank you, Fiona. Wow.” He looked at it again and stood.
“What are you—”
He kissed me. Right in the middle of the café, people around us and the smell of burning hash browns clogging my nose. I sighed his embrace, his soft lips welcoming me home. He squeezed my hip and ended the kiss sooner than I wanted. “Thank you.”
I blinked back emotion at the tenderness in his voice. He would break me and I was almost okay with it, as long as I got more time with this interesting man. I took another drink of water and waited until I could mask my face better. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“You didn’t sign it, though?” he asked, tracing the signatures like a kid getting his favorite athlete’s autograph. “Where’s your name?”
“Well, that’s the thing. You were supposed to open the other gift first and end with this one. Now, it’s all messed up and the other gift will be really stupid.” I groaned and bit the end of my knuckle. “Let’s just forget about the other one?”
“No chance in hell.” He clapped his hands again, folding his jersey into a nice square and setting it gently on the table. “What did you do, Barbie?”
I didn’t answer and waited when he pulled out another jersey. This time, my name was on the back. “It’s fucking stupid.”
“Did you…did you sign this?” Humor laced every word and I tried to think of any excuse to leave. Anything. “Fiona.”
“Fine. Yes. I signed it. I thought it was funny. You know, when I’m a famous person, you can sell it for money.” I buried my head in my hands and mumbled to myself, “Dumbass.”
“I stand corrected. This is the best gift. I’m getting two frames now. Both of these are going in my kitchen. Treasures, Fiona. These are fucking treasures,” he spoke between bouts of laughing and snorting.
“You’re laughing your ass off at my expense. Not really sure I trust your words.”
“I swear it. Best. Gifts. Ever.” He grinned at me, grabbing my hand one more time. “I’m so glad we’re coaching together.”
“You know, I am too. I know it’s short-term, but we sort of work together, don’t we?” I asked the question without thinking, and I instantly regretted it. His entire face fell, my chest hurting for reasons I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Short-term?”
“Yeah,” I stuttered and blinked way too fast. “Like, the season ends in six weeks, then what? It was a given this was short-term,” I said and hated myself. I hated his reaction, the feeling in my chest, but I couldn’t take them back. “Right?”
“Sure,” he replied but his shoulders tensed and the warmth that had been there seconds ago was nowhere to be found. “I report back to workouts the second week in February.”
No more Gideon after February.The thought didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t think about it. I dove into a pathetic, word-vomit babble that would have had any sane man running in the opposite direction. “Do you think you’ll be ready? We can train more. I’ll hit you grounders or help you stretch or go jogging with you. I’m a shit jogger. Bea bitches at me when I try to run with her because I either talk the entire time or fall into the grass every five minutes. Maybe we shouldn’t go running together. I can bike? You run and I ride a bike. Yes. We can do that. Or—”
“Babe, calm down.” The sparkle came back into his eyes, the dimpled grin not at all matching his mood of seconds ago. He had to switch moods like I changed the radio stations. “Yeah. I’d like your help.”
“Perfect. Cool. Just, tell me when. I’ll pencil you in.”Fuck me. Why do I sound like a twat?“I’m not really hungry. The coffee was fine. Want to head out?”
“No way. I haven’t seen you in five days. Your insults are good for my ego,” he said without breaking eye contact. “Unless you have somewhere to be?”
How can I say no to that face?“No. I don’t.”
“Good. I kind of like your face. I want to see more of it…plus I have a date—er, activity planned for us.” He ran his hand over his forehead and leaned closer to me.
“Yeah?”
“Escape the room. Just us. Whoever gets more clues wins. Loser has to walk around naked the rest of the night. You in?” He wiggled his eyebrows and I stood no chance against his charm.
“With you? Yeah. I need more opportunities to snap pictures of you naked. You know, to start that calendar. Let’s go!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gideon
“Get that woman off the field, man. She doesn’t know shit about the game,” a drunken, sloppy masculine voice carried across home plate. I heard it. The team heard it. Fiona damn well heard it and it pissed me off beyond measure. No one talked about her like that when I was around. No one.
