He got up and got a few pats on the backs from the other guys.
“I’m sorry about that, mister,” one of the taller teens—a gangly girl of about fifteen, with dark brown skin and a braided bob—apologized. “I didn’t ’spect you to take it right in the face like that. I thought you would duck out of the way like you did with the other shots.”
There were a few sniggers from both teams, and he cast a jaundiced eye over the group. See if he’d ever play with this bunch of ingrates again.
“No harm done,” Smith told the girl with the iron foot. “That was a great shot. Well done.”
The girl smiled and hung her head bashfully, while her teammates all gave her good-natured shoves.
“Lindiwe is one of our best players,” one of the boys bragged. “She’s being scouted by a big Italian team to play on their junior girls’ team.”
“Well then, I suppose having my face smashed in by a future superstar isn’ttoobad,” Smith said, with a grin that hurthis burning cheeks. “One day I’ll be able to brag about this moment.”
A streak of dark red burned its way onto the girl’s cheekbones and her shy smiled widened, while a couple of the other kids ribbed her in Xhosa.
The teens dashed away to retrieve the ball and the group of men disbanded as well, leaving Smith with nothing left to do but take the long, solitary walk of ignominy back to the bleachers. Tina and Kenna were already back in their seats, and Tina waved him over to sit beside her.
He hesitated, eyeing Kenna, who sat on his sister’s other side. She was steadfastly ignoring him and having an animated conversation with Libby on her left.
He walked over to Tina, who handed him his lightweight zip-up hoodie. He took it gratefully, dragging it on over his rapidly cooling muscles, and sat down next to his sister.
Tina passed him a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin.
“Did that look badbador badass?” he asked Tina in a low voice. His sister snorted then chuckled, and turned her head to look at him.
“What doyouthink, man?”
He grimaced.
“I was hoping it didn’t look as bad as it felt.”
“You went arse over tits, Smith. It wasn’t at all impressive. In a team with a history of really terrible players, you’re possibly the worst one they’ve ever had.”
“Come on, I can’t have beenthatbad.” As he said it, a cheer went up from the stands and he looked up just in time to see Greyson leap up, one arm extended, to save another lethal shot from the dangerously talented Lindiwe.
“He’s got no business being that good,” Smith complained. “He was never great at team sports.”
“I know, right? He’s like a soccer savant or something. Easily one of the best players on the team. And Greyson andHarris play off each other really well too, which is a little surprising considering how often they clash or bicker.”
Flynn—who had startled awake after that last big cheer—began to fret in his stroller, which was parked with the other strollers right next to their corner of the small stand. Smith quickly retrieved his nephew before he could start wailing and wake Jamie and Libby’s twenty-month-old Pippa, who was fast asleep in her stroller.
He rejoined Tina, who handed him a bottle of formula. The bottle worked like a charm and Flynn quickly settled against Smith’s chest.
“I should take him from you,” Tina said without much conviction. “You’re all sweaty. My baby is going to smell rank, thanks to you.”
“You don’t mind do you, my love?” Smith whispered against his nephew’s downy hair. Both babies had a sleek, skull-hugging cap of bright red hair, the exact same shade as their mother’s.
Flynn’s only response to Smith’s question was to curl a chubby fist in Smith’s neck. He was kicking lazily as he drank, eyes drifting shut. Smith, who held the thirteen-month-old cradled in one arm, wrapped the fist of his supporting arm around one fat little thigh, while his other hand held the bottle.
Flynn was apparently dissatisfied with the way Smith was holding the bottle and curled his own hand around it. Smith let him have it and pressed an affectionate kiss on the baby’s head, enjoying the clean, warm, powdery smell of his nephew.
He looked up from the drowsy baby to say something to Tina, but all thought fled from his brain when he locked eyes with Kenna instead.
She was watching him. And from the hectic flush that settled on her face, it was clear that she hadn’t meant for him to catch her watching.
Her eyes shimmered with a depth of feeling that made himsilently gasp. He didn’t know what was behind that look. And he definitely wasn’t sure why the unfathomable, unreadable emotion in those beautiful eyes grabbed him by the throat and squeezed tightly.
All he knew was that he was caught in a stranglehold, trapped by that stare. When the first fat, cold drop of moisture plopped onto the hand wrapped around Flynn’s leg, it diverted him enough to finally break the hypnotic hold she’d had over him.
