rim. I reach my hand across the table and give hers a squeeze. “I’ve probably said too much as it is.”
“You haven’t said anything other than your son didn’t make the team, which I think is bullshit since I’ve seen him play. He’s smart, a total sponge when it came to soaking up what I taught him today and is more than eager to play. That’s exactly what coaches want in a player. So, my question was and still is, what do you know about the program?”
“It’s corrupt. It’s a popularity game. Most of the kids on the team are bullies and I think that’s because of the mentality Brett Larsen has. He’s a creep and trying to ruin my career, which means he’ll probably try to ruin yours as well.”
I laugh hard. “He can try. What’s he going to do, call the media and tell them I’m having dinner with a beautiful woman and her son?”
She blushes and I find myself wanting to run my fingers over the pink of her cheeks. “I don’t know,” she says quietly. She adjusts in her chair and tries to smile.
“What did he do?”
“Do you know David Farmer?”
“I do, he was my high school baseball coach.”
She nods. “I went and saw him the other day, asking for help. Mostly, I wanted to get a mentor or something like a big brother for Chase. I told Mr. Farmer about the tryouts and all that, but I never got to the big brother part because Brett called, and I just panicked and left. Next thing I know, Brett’s texting me, calling my boss, and basically making my life hell. Which is why you found me out in the field this morning . . . down on the main road, this land abuts Larsen’s property for that stupid store he built, and he’s been stockpiling his overstock on the property. My boss wants to stick it to Brett and is working with the owner to sell the property because adverse possession rules apply.”
“I’m interested in the property, but more concerned with Brett. I saw him earlier and the vibe I got . . . it’s off.”
She nods and do I.
“Farmer asked me to coach a team, but I can’t. Not with my shoulder. I don’t mind helping if someone else has the time.”
“But not many people are willing to piss Brett Larsen off.”
I frown, not liking the way things are around town. “How much is the property?” I wasn’t interested in that piece of land until now. I had every intention earlier of telling my dad about it so he could expand, but now I think I’m going to make the purchase.
“I’m hoping to have the price tomorrow.”
“You’ll be sure to call me right away, right?”
“Yes, of course,” she says.
“Good.” I lean back in the chair but am still uncertain about what’s actually going on. I want to ask her more, but I also want to get to know her. I don’t want her to think the only reason I asked her to sit with us is because of this. I need to change the subject, something light and fun.
“So, do you watch baseball?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at her.
Again, she blushes. “Sorry, no. Chase does, and I have a feeling that tonight he’s going to tell me all about you. Oh, plus one of my closest friends does. In fact, I think you’re somewhat of a local hero around these parts.”
“And yet, you had no idea who I was this morning.”
“Did that bother you?”
I shake my head slowly. “Not in the slightest. It was nice being able to have a conversation with someone without them falling at my feet, professing their insta love for me.”
She leans forward and I do the same. “Hawk Sinclair, I can promise you that I won’t go gaga over you every time you enter the room.”
“What about if we’re in private, Bellamy?”
Fourteen
Bellamy
His question leaves me stunned. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that I look like a gaping fish, seeking water to keep me alive, but I can’t help it. I want to say something . . . anything, yet nothing comes to mind. He can’t be serious, can he? We just met and I don’t do the hook-up thing. I have a son to think about and can’t be entertaining men on the fly.
Hawk adjusts in his seat and starts to chuckle. I don’t know what he finds so funny unless I’m misunderstanding the situation, but I’m pretty certain he propositioned me. Or maybe I propositioned him. Oh, God. Did I?
Suddenly, I’m flushed and in desperate need of something to drink. I’m about to stand when the waitress stops at our table with a tray of glasses. Eight in fact, four of them filled with water and the other four are empty so we can go to the soda machine ourselves.