Wait for It

He hissed, craning his neck to eye my hand closer. “Sheesh.”

I pressed my lips together and smiled. “It’ll get even better.”

The man tipped his head to the side, still eyeing me. When he didn’t immediately say anything, I thought he’d let it go. Most of practice had gone by, and the coaches had the boys in a huddle, talking to them before he finally spoke up again.

“I think I told you already I’m divorced.” He’d only told me about ten times since we’d met. “I’m not dating anyone seriously.”

But he was dating someone, and trying to weasel in some flirting. Great.

“If you ever need any help, you could give me a call. I’d be more than willing to help out with anything you might need,” he said softly, obviously fully aware of how nosey the rest of the parents were and how everyone eavesdropped on everyone else.

I felt uncomfortable. Even though I didn’t want to, I tore my eyes away from the boys on the field and turned to look at this guy, knowing exactly what I needed to do even though I really didn’t want to do it. “That’s really nice of you to offer, but my dad helps me out a ton, and between the boys and me, we’re usually pretty good with most stuff, but I appreciate the offer.”

This poor, attractive man by most women’s standards wasn’t stopping. “It doesn’t have to be help. Our boys are friends.” I wouldn’t call Josh his son’s friend, at all, but I’d keep my mouth closed. “We could do something with them, if you’re interested.” He blinked. “Or by ourselves.”

Shit.

I barely opened my mouth to tell him something along the lines that I was flattered he was offering but that I was really busy and not interested in dating anyone when a shadow came over me. A big hand reached across my face to take the bag I had sitting between the dad and I. Before I even looked, I knew there was no way it was Josh. He was tall but not that tall, and the hand that I’d briefly seen was bigger than mine by a lot. But I guess… well, I wasn’t sure what I guessed, but I sure as hell didn’t really expect to find Dallas at my side, looking down at me, with Josh beside him glaring at the dad.

“Hey, guys,” I greeted them quickly, frowning at the faces they were both making. I understood Josh’s, he always gave that specific dad dirty looks every time he sat by me, but Dallas? What was up his butt?

Those warm hazel eyes stayed locked on my face. He didn’t once look at the man beside me. “You ready?”

To leave? “Yeah.” I glanced at Josh and tipped my chin up.

He was too busy glaring at the dad to notice me.

As I got to my feet, I started to reach for my purse in Dallas’s hands but he pulled it in closer to his body, eyeing me the entire time. “Let’s go.”

No part of me was putting the pieces together. Not one single bit. All I did was nod before turning around to face the dad still sitting on the bench, watching and listening. I smiled at him. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for the offer.”

The dad’s gaze bounced from me to Dallas and back again before he nodded, slowly. “Yeah, sure,” he said, going back to Dallas who suddenly seemed to be standing inches away from me. I could feel his body heat.

I didn’t even freeze a little when what was obviously his hand landed on my shoulder, gently turning me in the direction where everyone was headed. I only partially eyed his hand as I dropped my own for a low-five from Josh, who gave it to me easily.

“Good practice, J-Money?” I asked, completely conscious of the weight on me and of the man beside me.

The eleven-year-old smacked my hand again with a smirk. “Good practice. Did you have fun talking to your friend?”

Did I give my eleven-year-old the stink eye? Damn right I did.

The problem was, I’d learned the stink eye from the best: him.

I stuck my tongue out at him and he stuck his right back.

“That’s why I have to follow you two home,” came the voice that seemed right by my ear.

I stared at Josh a second longer before I winked at him, and he winked at me right back.

“Do you want to have dinner with us, Mr. Dallas?” Josh asked as he continued to watch me.

Since when did Josh invite people over for dinner? That was Louie’s job.

“J, I’m sure he has better things to do than see your face longer than he needs to,” I said jokingly, still watching that face I knew too well. It felt like he was up to something, but what? “Plus, I’m sure he wants to spend some time with his grandma.”

“There’s nothing better I could be doing,” came the reply right by my shoulder a moment before the hand on the opposite side gave me a squeeze before dropping. “And Nana’s probably asleep by now.”

With my heart up in my throat and this sneaky shit with Josh going on, I managed to keep my attention forward.

“All right, I just have to go pick up Louie first,” I said, mostly to my shoulder.

There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that what had to be a hand touched the small of my back. “I’m good at waiting,” he replied.

I nodded, and as I raised my gaze to start making our way toward the parking lot, I noticed it. A good chunk of the moms, waiting around for the kids or talking, were watching us. Why did that surprise me? And why didn’t it bother me?

“We should start carpooling.”

That comment had my head swinging to the side and up. Dallas was looking down at me, his expression clear. The hand on my lower back made a circle even through the material of my jacket, and his thick, dark eyebrows rose a millimeter, like he was trying to challenge me.

But why would he do that?

I didn’t narrow my eyes, but I wanted to. “That would save gas…” I cleared my throat. “Maybe not on the days Louie doesn’t come though.”

And this man, this man of my dreams who I didn’t know I even wanted, stitched back up a whole inch of that part of my heart that hadn’t been the same since my brother. “I don’t mind picking up Lou.” There was a pause and he blinked those beautiful eyes. His voice was hesitant. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

Didn’t want him to? What a dumbass.

I smiled at him, trying to tell him with my eyes that I wanted him to love me back. To kiss me again. To tell me what he wanted from me. “What did I tell you about stupid questions, Mr. Clean?”



*

I had just finished setting the last clean dish on the rack when my phone rang from wherever I’d left it.

“Aunt Di! It’s abuelita!” Josh shouted from the living room a moment before the slapping of his feet on the floor warned me he was coming.

Sure enough, he had my phone outstretched in his hand; his practice uniform still on. Before I’d gone into the kitchen to wash dishes, he, Lou, and Dallas had all been sitting in front of the television, taking turns playing video games. It was too much. So I’d gotten up and decided to wash dishes while I collected my thoughts.

Mariana Zapata's books