Molly bit at her bottom lip, apparently refusing to respond.
Rachel could literally feel her matchmaking friend brewing an idea to push Rachel and Travis together. Last time he’d been to a game, Molly manipulated them into sitting thigh-to-thigh on the bleachers. The time before that? Her car broke down and she asked Travis to drive them home. Then Molly caught a ride with the umpire’s wife instead.
Oh, to be sure, Molly didn’tbelieveRachel and Travis had any business being together. She just wanted to piss off Gavin.
It was her way.
“I like Travis.” Molly bit at her bottom lip, saying the words with the caution of one merging onto a road littered with construction. “I like it when he comes to the games.”
When Gavin couldn’t make a game, one of his immediate family members always showed up to—and she was quoting him here—“represent the family.”
Like they were mafiosos or something.
They weren’t.
They were, however, loaded beyond belief because Great-Meemaw Frank had created the first Puffle Yum and sold the shit out of the toaster tarts.
Rachel paused, setting the purse strap onto her shoulder. “Travis is a fantasticuncle.”
She made it a point to enunciate that last word. Because any idea of flirting with Travis or doing anything beyond friendly chatter with him was an absolute nopers.
“Is that new?” Molly gestured to Rachel’s bag. She may have been a black belt in flirting, but her distraction techniques could use some work.
Rachel knew how Molly operated and, in her mind, as long as she didn’t verbally commit, she would weasel her way out of an implied agreement later.
“I grabbed it at the Coach outlet in Loveland last week,” Rachel said. The rose-colored over-the-shoulder bag was the last on the shelf, and Rachel had fallen in deep lust with it on first sight.
“I think I need at least two of these,” Molly mumbled, examining the stitching.
“Too bad, I got the last one.” Rachel grinned, nabbing the bag away with a smirk.
Molly shook her head. “There are always more online.”
“Dinner’s cooking, I have my keys, shoes, purse, go bag, sunglasses, boys are going straight to the field after school.” Rachel inventoried everything she needed for the game.
“You ready now?” Molly asked.
“Let’s go.” Rachel dropped her sunglasses into her bag and held the front door for her friend.
This week was Molly’s turn to drive.
Which meant Molly would be busy driving the vehicle and Rachel would spend the thirty-minute drive to the baseball field calling Cassie back and then chatting about everything but her least favorite Frank brother. So perhaps, just perhaps, Molly would leave it alone.
Maybe.
Chapter Two
“You know you’re a good mom when you sacrifice your vibrator batteries for your kid’s toy.” — All Moms Everywhere
Rachel
Rachel had her resting mom face firmly in place. The one she’d learned from her mama, and her mother had learned from hers. The one that showed just the correct amount of interest but covered the fact that she wasn’t 100 percent listening.
The late-spring sun pelted them with rays while they entered the baseball field. Thanks to Molly’s extra-fancy, extra-fast driving, they’d arrived with a few minutes to spare.
“I’m telling you.” Molly led the way along the walkway toward the bench where they would wait for the Little League game to start. “Men who shop for groceries are excellent stepdad material.”
Wait. What?
