Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“True. I’m a California boy, lover of sunshine and salt water.”
“Oh, are you a surfer?”
He laughs. “No. I’m terrible on a surfboard.”
“Probably safer. You know, sharks and all.”
“That’s what my mother says. I lie to her every time I go to the ocean just so she doesn’t worry.”
I gasp. “You lie to your mother? That’s awful.”
“It’s better than her thinking I’m going to die all afternoon,” he says, his voice tinged with a laugh.
I can’t help but grin at Cole. “Okay. Fine. That’s true.”
He fiddles with a napkin on the counter. His fingers work the paper back and forth in the same tempo as his boot-clad foot tapping against the floor. The entire thing is so casual and disarming that my frustration from Burt and his ridiculousness drifts away.
“Who are you, anyway?” I ask. “Why are you here?”
“My parents moved here six months ago, and I came to visit them. Perks of retirement.”
“Not judging or anything, but aren’t you too young for retirement?”
The question pleases him. A slow smile slips across his face.
“The average age for retirement in professional baseball is thirty,” he says. “I am—was—the catcher for the San Diego Swifts. So, short answer is no. I’m right on target.”
Professional baseball?
What?
He leans back and runs his hands along his thighs. I make a point not to watch the movement. There’s no sense in torturing myself. Besides, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that a professional baseball player is in Bloomfield, Ohio.
“Maybe we could have dinner or something while I’m in town,” he says, his words measured more carefully than before.
My stomach flip-flops at the invitation, and my insides war with how to respond.
I need to decline. For so many reasons, I should give Cole a smile and send him on his way. But needs and wants are two totally different stories, and right now, the line between them is muddy.
“Dinner?” he asks again. “Or lunch? I can even do breakfast, if you’d rather.”
My face flushes, and I move around in my seat. I’m about to give in, to say yes to dinner, when my gaze lands on the tiny tattoo on my wrist. The delicate lotus flower reminds me every day that beautiful things can come from the dirtiest waters. I just have to keep growing.
“Thank you,” I say, forcing a swallow. “But no.”
His brows shoot to the ceiling. “No?”
I shrug. “No.”
“There’s a word I don’t hear often.”
Instead of it coming across as cocky, it borders on self-deprecating. It’s surprisingly adorable.
“Fish is never going to let me live this down,” he says, his words teasing.
“Fish?”
“My friend that’s sitting back there.”
I glance over my shoulder at a large blond man sitting near the window. Also handsome.
“Who cares?” I say, turning back to Cole. “He shares his name with an aquatic vertebrate.”
He laughs. “He’s a big deal, you know.”
I bite my lip to keep my grin from growing too wide. “Ooh. I love that.”
“What?”
“I love when a man can admit that he’s not the biggest deal in the room.”
He stills, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth. “I didn’t say that, sweetheart.”
Nice try, Mr. Baseball.
“Maybe since he’s such a big deal, he’ll let you keep your hundred bucks,” I say, hoping my cheeks aren’t as pink as I think they are.
“You don’t know Fish. He’ll have me forking it over before we get out of here.”
My lips part, but no words come out.
I struggle to breathe from the brightness of his blue eyes. The warmth in his irises is so comfortable that I fail to object to the way his gaze holds mine. It’s not until he starts to smirk that I shake out of my reverie.
Val slips my tab from the past week under my glass. I groan, having forgotten that it was due today.
“I guess I’ll go pay Fish and get it over with,” he says with a sigh. There’s an opening embedded in the words, a last chance to take him up on his offer.
I glance down at my bill and gulp. “Or you could give me seventy-five dollars.”
His brows rise to the ceiling. “What?”
It’s a wild idea and not well thought out, but I’m too far in to back out now.
“Give me seventy-five dollars of the hundred you’ll win. Sounds fair to me, considering it’s my number,” I say.
He wasn’t expecting my offer. Hell, I wasn’t expecting it, either, but here we are. And it’s not a terrible idea. It’ll give me twenty dollars after I pay this week’s tab, and twenty bucks never goes astray as a single mom. Besides, I’ll never have to answer his call.
Cole’s features twist into amusement, and then, much to my surprise, he pulls out his wallet.
“You have money?” I ask.
He lifts his head just high enough for me to see his smirk. “Yes. I have money. Quite a lot of it, actually.”