Grady has a massive man cave of sorts in his backyard. Some of the guys shoot pool, others are over at the grill, and a few of us chill on deck chairs outside, getting some sun. This is some view. I don’t remember seeing this many trees in years.
I am far away from city life, that’s for sure.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” a little boy tells me. He looks to be about seven or eight. I figure one of the guys must be his dad. Big brown eyes look down at me questioningly.
“I’m not from around here, little dude, just moved here.”
“City guy?” he asks, trying to sound more grown-up than he actually is. I nod.
“Figures,” he tells me.
I smirk. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well,” he responds, taking a seat next to me, ankle on knee, a root beer perched on his leg. “You haven’t cracked one weird joke, you just laugh along with theirs, and you haven’t taken off your shirt. It’s a thing around here.” He looks down at his own shirtless chest. I want to laugh, but I don’t want to break his macho spirit.
“Is it now?” I grin.
“Yes, Sir. Wanna play catch?” he asks. “Better than sitting around here feeling like an oddball.” He smirks, and I laugh at his pun.
“All right, little man, you may have a point. Let’s play ball.” I set my beer down and watch him disappear into the man cave. He returns with a baseball and gloves.
“Catch or toss first?” he shouts.
“Toss.” I decide, and he throws me a glove. It’s signed ‘Drew.’
“You, Drew, little man?”
“Nah, I’m Brody. Drew’s my dad.” He kicks the ground. The way he says it makes me not want to ask more. Besides, I know the names of every guy in this yard and none of them are Drew.
“Well, Brody, I’m Ember.”
“That’s a weird name for a firefighter; you do know that, right?” He narrows his eyes at me. Smart kid.
“Tell me about it.” I laugh. “So we gonna toss or what?”
“His mother is around, do not let her hear you talk like that, Dale.” Grady snickers.
“What?” I shrug. “The kid is one of the guys.” I wink at Brody, whose chest puffs out in pride. He has the friendliest smiles, and for a split second, I feel an old ache return. I push it away.
Ask me exactly what happened in the next half hour, and I won’t be able to say for sure. Brody and I were playing catch, and then he missed the ball, hitting him full on the mouth, splitting his lip. All I know is that I’m now standing staring down at a tiny force of a woman who is shouting at me and pointing to Brody’s lip, but all I see are her forest green eyes, fire dancing behind them. She jabs her fingers into my chest. I feel myself smile, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“You think this is funny?” she hisses.
“I’m sorry,” I manage. “We were playing catch. I missed.” I find myself feeling like a fool, my shoulders sinking like I’m in the principal’s office. “I can take care of that.” I move toward Brody, and she tucks him behind her.
“Well, you didn’t have to throw like a pro, asshole. He’s a child, for God's sake.”
“Mom, I don’t need you making a fuss,” Brody whines.
Grady tries to defuse the situation and gets accused of all kinds of things, including Brody’s use of inappropriate words, likesuck. I cock a brow at that.
“It really was a mistake,” I try again, and her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I think this tiny slip of a woman might actually tackle me. I think I like the thought of that.
She finally storms off, tugging Brody behind her, disappearing into the house. I can’t help but look on after her. Shoulder length chestnut hair bouncing as she walks, an ass so tight in those skinny jeans, I want to squeeze it. Parts of me spark to life at the sight of her. Fuck, it has been a while since I’ve been laid.
Fingers click in front of me. “That, my friend, is a no-go zone,” Grady warns, following after the woman.
“What?” I meet his gaze. “I’m just worried about, Brody.”
