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  A few of the parents, as well as the players, inhaled deeply, surprised that I’d say that. I was a very positive person…normally.

  Right then, though? I was fucking pissed.

  “Coach…” Coach Casper from somewhere behind me said, sounding worried.

  I turned my gaze on her and let her know with only a single look to shut it.

  She closed her mouth and looked to the principal who was readying herself to interrupt. So I forged forward and let the boys know exactly what I felt about their actions.

  “Johnson, do you know the definition of bully?” I asked.

  Johnson, my smart nephew, blinked in confusion.

  “Uh, a person that picks on someone?” he asked.

  I turned to Banks. “What about you? What do you think bully means?”

  “When you intimidate a person?” he offered.

  I gritted my teeth, then pointed at Johnson. “You are a bully.” I turned to Banks. “You are a bully.”

  I repeated that, over and over again, until I had pointed at every single person that I saw engaging in the torture of the kid.

  And it was torture. Their pointing and laughing, although harmless in theory, was devastating to that poor kid. A kid that’d gone through quite enough and shouldn’t have to deal with the shit my team had just laid at his feet.

  “A bully is not tolerated on my team. Now, every one of you will sit there and watch the junior varsity team play for you. Then, you will go take that uniform off and get out of my stadium. Think about what you did and meet me at the track on Tuesday. I don’t want to see or hear from you until then.”

  “But Coach, there are still three innings…” Rhodes started.

  I held my hand up, disgusted. “The junior varsity will play for you.”

  With that, I walked to the younger boys—who’d won their game played before this one—and gestured the other coach over.

  “You mind if I allow my JV team to play? They need the practice and the reward. We’ll forfeit the game,” I said to the other coach.

  He nodded once. “I saw what happened. Brutal but effective.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about it to be honest.

  I also needed to go get Raleigh, but I had three more innings to get through before that happened.

  Allowing my JV to play had been a spur of the moment thought. And honestly, they looked excited as hell to be doing it. The bragging rights alone were going to burn for months.

  This game, the senior game, was a big deal. It was the last home game that the seniors would ever play in this stadium. The next time they arrived, it would be as a guest, not a player.

  I had a feeling that in about forty-five minutes, I’d be hearing it from the superintendent, the principal, as well as almost all of the senior parents.

  Yeah, this was going to be fun…not.

  ***

  Raleigh

  I hovered next to the exit, standing next to Morgan who was as stiff as a board in his seat.

  He did not look happy to have to wait for his ride, and even more, he could hear a few of the girls snickering about what had just happened behind him.

  I wanted to throat punch every single one of them.

  Though, with both the principal of the high school and the superintendent of the entire district at the game only a few hundred yards away, I was not going to act on my instincts—which was give the girls a piece of my mind.

  Instead, I stayed next to Morgan and tried to think of something to say that would make him understand that it was okay.

  “In high school,” I said. “The senior class voted me as prom queen. The guy I had a crush on took a girl, my arch nemesis, to the prom. And she went out of her way to spill punch on me and my dress. It wasn’t just a glass of punch, it was the whole punch bowl. She then informed me that the only reason my date asked me was so I’d be there to accept my award. The punch was spur of the moment—but that decision cost me eight hundred dollars that I didn’t have since I was forced to pay for the dress which was a rental. I was made the laughing stock of the school.”

  Morgan’s startled gaze met mine.

  “I used to have the biggest crush in the world on Coach McDuff,” I told him, seeing his eyes widen more and more as I spoke. “He laughed at me.”

  Morgan’s mouth fell open.

  “He saw me there, red Kool-Aid dripping down my dress, and he laughed.” I swallowed, remembering as if it were yesterday. “It broke my heart.”

  “You should’ve punched him in the junk,” Morgan murmured.

  I snorted. “I couldn’t even look at him, Morgan. I don’t think you understand the intensity of my crush.”

  And it definitely wasn’t past tense. I saw the moment he understood.

  “You still like him?” he asked.

  I nodded, and felt the first trickle of blood down the back of my throat, announcing an impending nose bleed.

  I groaned and started to search through my purse for a tissue.

  “Every single day I do something stupid and embarrassing in front of him,” I told Morgan. “But you know what?”

  I pressed the Kleenex to my nose and hoped that it wouldn’t be a bad bleed.

  Then again, with it being the middle of spring and the thousands of pollen particles floating through the air, I didn’t have high hopes.

  “I went to school and did it all over again the next day.” I paused. “Ezra’s—Coach McDuff’s—entire senior year, I sat behind him in one of my classes. He never once noticed me.”

  Morgan’s eyes turned sad.

  “I had a crush before this,” he gestured at his body. “I haven’t had the courage to talk to her since.”

  I leaned against the chain-link fence and contemplated what I was going to say next. “I know that you think that this is the end of the world…but maybe when you get older, you won’t think the same way. Kids…they can be cruel. I know that something Ezra found funny when he was eighteen isn’t something he finds funny now. He would not laugh if the same thing happened to me now as he would have back then. The same applies to you…kids will be kids…but eventually, they do grow up and get out of that stage where they’re all assholes.”

  Morgan snorted. “I’m not sure as a teacher you’re allowed to call kids assholes.”

  I shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

  Morgan sighed. “I don’t think my ride’s going to get here any time soon.”

  I frowned. “I’d take you home, but I’m fairly sure your wheelchair isn’t going to fit into my Honda.”

  Morgan’s lips twitched. “No, I don’t think it’s going to, either. But my grandma will be here…she will just be late.”

  “Is that you trying to say that you should go back in and continue to watch the game?” I asked hopefully.

  Morgan shrugged. “I guess it won’t hurt.”

  I winked at him, then turned to gesture toward the field. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 7

  Yuck Fou.

  -Text from Raleigh to Ezra

  Raleigh

  I was a nervous wreck as I was waiting for Ezra to get to his truck after the game had finally finished.

  I’d met his sister on the way back to the game, and she’d offered me a place to sit next to her and her husband.

  I’d taken her up on the offer, but only after making sure that Morgan could wheel his wheelchair up next to us.

  I was surprised to see that almost every single player that’d been involved in the earlier fiasco had been riding the bench, and even more surprised when Ezra’s sister had explained that Ezra had benched every single one of them—senior players included.

  And, from what I’d gathered as I’d sat and watched, the players, as well as the parents, had not been happy.

  Then again, after the way that the seniors had acted, I didn’t see the problem.

  The first ‘look at that loser’ that had come out of thei
r mouth had made me stiffen. The ‘leave him down there and let him piss himself in humiliation’ had been what had sparked my temper.

  Those boys knew better. They knew better, yet they’d hurt Morgan anyway. And I was disappointed in them.

  I was biting my lip and contemplating running away when I saw the distinctive shadow of Ezra making his way out of the fieldhouse.

  He had a pair of khakis and a navy blue polo shirt on, and his gaze was directed solely on me.

  I barely contained the urge to lick my lips.

  When Ezra was in high school, he’d been a gorgeous boy, but now? Seeing him as an adult? Holy shit. He didn’t have anything special on, and honestly, he wasn’t wearing anything much nicer now than he had when he was younger…but he’d definitely filled out in all the best ways.

  His biceps were bigger, his jaw was more chiseled, his beard…wow. And those lips of his? I wanted nothing more than to press my lips to his—then again, that had never changed.

  “You ready to go grab something to eat?” he asked, sounding tired and worn out.

  I tilted my head and studied him. “I’m ready…but you don’t look like you are.”

  His lips twitched up at the corners, but a smile didn’t grace his lips like I’d been hoping for.

  “I…do you want to go to my place and have some pizza?” he asked hopefully.

  Did I? Was I ready for that step?

  I knew that he was just being nice, and honestly, what did I have to lose here? This was my teenage fantasy come to life. So what if he was being sweet?

  “I could go for pizza,” I admitted. “As long as you want me there, that is.”

  The smile that graced his lips was small this time, but most definitely there.

  “You want to follow me?” he asked. “Or I could drive and bring you back to your car later tonight.”

  “I can drive,” I lied. I wanted to ride with him more than I wanted to take my next breath. “You’ll just have to drive slow. My night driving skills are a little less awesome than my day ones.”

  He snorted. “I think you should ride with me, then.”

  I barely contained my excitement.

  “Okay,” I breathed.

  He walked around to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door, offering me his hand.

  I took it and climbed up, very aware of how close he was the entire time.

  Once my ass hit the seat, he stared at the hole in my pants, just over my knee, for a few long seconds, before his face turned up and his eyes met mine.

  “I had a really bad day,” he told me. “And I’m glad that you stayed.”

  Then he touched one fingertip to the skin that was poking out of the hole and then backed up before closing the door softly.

  I swallowed and felt my belly fill with butterflies.

  He rounded the hood of the truck and hopped into his seat easily, automatically reaching for his seat belt as he turned to survey me.

  “You okay?” he questioned.

  I swallowed and nodded. “I did tell you that they think I’m bad luck…”

  He snorted. “Somebody tells you that enough, I’m sure at some point you’re going to start believing it. A person isn’t bad luck…though, just sayin’, baseball players do consider their superstitions very important to them.”

  I snorted. “Oh, I know that.”

  His brows rose. “You do?”

  I nodded. “My brother played.”

  “Your brother?”

  I nodded. “He, uh, died when I was eighteen. He was two years younger than me in school. His name was Gavin.”

  Ezra’s face instantly changed.

  He’d heard about Gavin.

  Everybody in the town of Gun Barrel had heard about Gavin.

  You only had to live here for a week to find out what happened to Gavin.

  Why?

  Because Gavin was the boy that died in the middle of a baseball game his junior year, and we had a sculpture of him in the middle of the city park, and a plaque at the school, as well as a wing at the hospital dedicated to him.

  “That was your brother?”

  I nodded.

  “I heard about a boy that died, and his parents were the ones to buy us the HeartGuard shirts,” Ezra murmured.

  I felt my stomach tighten.

  That’d been my brother’s contribution—my eldest brother, Croft, anyway.

  Gavin had been playing mid-season. He’d come up to bat his second time, and the pitcher had thrown a wild pitch and struck him in the chest. The ball had made contact with his heart at just the right moment—according to doctors—and his heart had stopped.

  He’d died in the middle of that field, and despite the coach at the time, as well as my own father, giving him CPR, he hadn’t made it.

  Gavin’s passing was also why almost every single sports complex in all the schools had defibrillators—just in case something tragic like that happened again.

  “Shit,” he murmured. “I should’ve put two and two together.”

  I smiled and looked down at my lap. “It’s hard for that to happen. I was always very shy and introverted while Gavin was the life of the party. We didn’t look like each other, and we certainly didn’t hang out with each other. It’s easy to see how you missed it.”

  He looked at me with a wry smile on his face. “Gavin Crusie is an unusual name. There is only one set of Crusies in this town, and that’s your family. Everyone knows the Crusies…I should’ve put two and two together. Trust me. I feel stupid.”

  My lips twitched. “You were a big kahuna star quarterback Superman for the Sooners at the time of his accident. There’s no way that you would’ve known when you were busy winning the…” I trailed off, wondering if I should relay my obsession with him.

  “I know,” he murmured. “We may have won the college championships, but it’s hard not to hear about that happening. My whole family told me. It was a big deal.”

  It was a big deal.

  In fact, it still was a big deal.

  Every time baseball season came around again, my family made a big production about making sure that they got each player a HeartGuard shirt in the area, college and high school—at least Croft did, anyway.

  Croft was a lawyer and had been one for two years when Gavin had passed. He had money to burn, and he used it to make sure that nobody in Gun Barrel ever had to get the same call that he did that fateful day.

  It was surreal, watching your brother—who was at peak health—fall to his knees and then to his face. Then, to attend his funeral just two days later.

  I’d literally been talking to him twenty minutes before that game and had asked him if he could help me with my car the next morning. He’d tweaked my nose and given me a kiss on the cheek before running out on the field.

  I could still remember the way he’d squeeze my head in between his massive arms when he gave me hugs just like it was yesterday, and not years ago.

  “I’m sorry, Raleigh,” Ezra whispered into the quiet cab.

  I smiled. “He died doing what he loved…we lost him too soon, but who can say that they literally went out doing the one thing that made them happiest in the world?”

  Ezra’s smile was wistful. “I see where you’re coming from, but still.”

  I patted his hand that was resting on the console between us, then felt like it’d been scalded when he quickly turned his hand over and captured mine.

  “Are you still hungry, honey?” he asked.

  I nodded. I was.

  Talking about Gavin didn’t make me as sad as it used to, but that was to be expected.

  Now, hearing about my baby brother just made me smile and remember the good times.

  There would always be a little bit bad with the good, but you couldn’t have flowers without first dealing with the rain.

  “How about El Rincon?” he rumbled, not letting my hand go.

  I grinned. “
El Rincon’s is fine…but I think I’d still rather take you up on the pizza if you don’t mind.”

  His eyes warmed as he glanced over at me. “Cool.”

  That’s how, thirty minutes and a pizza later, I found myself curled up on one side of the couch, watching The Deadliest Catch with a slice of deliciousness in my hand.

  “I’d probably fall right the heck over and never be found again,” I murmured, watching as the guys on the boat slipped and slithered while they tried to do their job in the pouring rain and rough seas.

  “Even I probably wouldn’t be able to hack that,” he admitted. “They have a hefty sum they make from that, however. For the money? I might do it—if I didn’t have a family to worry about at home.”

  I looked over at him. “You have a family in here somewhere that you’re hiding?”

  I’d looked around his place when I’d gotten there, and what I’d found was a whole bunch of nothing.

  He had a one-bedroom, one-bath mother-in-law suite with a small kitchenette. Hell, it didn’t even have a closet. Just the bare necessities.

  All his clothes were in a cube-like storage system—I would know because I’d snooped when he’d gone into the bathroom and taken a quick shower—there was officially nowhere he could hide anybody in this place.

  He hooked his thumb up and said, “Cady—my sister. She lives on the other side of this wall with Grady, Moira, Colton, and Johnson.”

  “Didn’t your sister have four?” I asked.

  He nodded. “They do—Maden. He’s in college now in Alabama.”

  I shook my head. “I want all my kids to be close together. Three of them. I think an age gap like the one your sister and Grady have with their kids might very well kill me.”

  He snorted. “I think it killed Cady a little bit inside, too. But, Moira is a cute, perfect kid. Literally, if they had to end on one, Moira was the best way to tie up that chapter in their lives.”

  I grinned. “Did she have her tubes tied?”

  He nodded. “And Grady had his snipped, too. I think they didn’t want to chance it.”

  I wouldn’t either.

  I shivered. “My brothers had a large age gap between them—almost ten years. Gavin was the youngest at two and a half years younger than me. Croft is the oldest. Seven years after Croft, I came along. I think I want them even closer than that. Maybe a year and a half. Irish twins would be perfect, too.”