“You might be.”
She opened and closed her mouth. “There’s a small possibility that I’m overthinking things. I just, I spend so much time trying to drag the spotlight around with me that it’s nice to have something all my own.”
“And I’m that something?”
She bit her lip. “If you want to be.”
“I want.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. It was so soft against his fingers.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened slightly and her pupils dilated. “I want, too.”
He laughed. “You’re hilarious.” Before she could respond, he bent down and captured her lips once more. This time, he took his time, moving slow, cupping her face, enjoying the sweet sensations holding her built inside of him. He couldn’t remember the last time a kiss felt this perfect—like he’d found the person God created him to kiss. Was that strange to think that there was a soul mate out there, that he could find his match? Maybe. Even stranger was that the longer he kissed Sheila, the stronger that knowledge burned inside of him.
“Brock?” she gasped between kisses. “I have to go.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, making him shudder.
“Of course.” He moved to kissing her jaw, then her neck.
“Okay. I’m going,” she sighed.
He kissed his way back up to her lips and lingered there. Neither of them made a move to break apart. It was like, now that they’d found one another, there was nothing outside of the two of them.
“Sheila,” her phone barked.
She jerked as though there was an electric shock that came along with hearing her name. “Crap!” She patted her pockets, looking for her phone, and finally found it. Brock kept his arms around her, and she leaned into him. “Sheila here.”
“We can’t find Brock. He’s been gone for a half hour.”
Sheila squeaked. “A half hour?” She whispered to him as if the person could hear her without her pushing the button. “You’re a bad influence on me.” She pecked a kiss to his lips.
“You like it,” he growled.
“Yeah, I do.” She winked. “I’ll find him and send him back out,” she told the person on the phone.
“Roger that,” they answered.
“You’re making your intern sweat.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Totally worth it.” He’d trade ten hours in the sun for walk-off perfect kisses any day.
She laid a hand in the middle of his chest and pressed, scooting him back. “You have a job to do. Go be fun. Make them laugh. And then tonight, we’ll—”
He growled and gave her the smolder.
She flushed. “—catch up,” she finished.
He nodded. “You can call it whatever you want, sweetheart.”
She shook her head at him and laughed, feeling so much lighter than she had when she’d come into the locker room. Sure, trouble still lurked in the waters, but she was floating instead of sinking.
Brock gave her one last smoldering look before disappearing into the bright sunlight. She sighed happily, counted to thirty, and then ducked out after him. She needed to check on the feel in the stands, find out if people who had been there all day were still having a great time. She walked along the edge of the field, her shoes crunching the dried dirt, and scanned faces as she climbed the steps.
Her head was still locked in Brock’s embrace when someone grabbed her wrist. She blinked, looking down to find her mom and dad staring at her with concerned expressions. “Honey?” Her mom tugged her back down a step. “Are you all right?”
She felt a lazy smile creep across her cheeks. “I’m great.” She shook herself out of the memory of Brock holding her close. For the record, being in his arms was everything she’d thought it would be and so much more. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Are you kidding? This is our team.” Mom pointed to the Redrocks hat perched on her head. Her shorter blond hair was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck, and sections framed her face. She wore a hat well. Dad was in the Redrocks tee shirt she’d given him for Father’s Day last year.
“You guys could use an upgrade in gear. I think I know what I’m getting you for Christmas.”
