I couldn’t help but smile at him. Dinner had only been a little awkward at the beginning, thankfully. We never really used the dining room table unless my parents or the Larsens were over, and this time hadn’t been an exception. The four of us had sat around the coffee table with bowls and pieces of bread, Josh and Dallas talking about professional baseball nearly the entire time. Meanwhile, Louie and I had taken turns opening our mouths at each other when they were full of chili.
“Thank you for coming. Lou doesn’t really…” How did I say this? “He doesn’t really spend a lot of time with men who aren’t in their sixties since his dad died, and you’ve always been really nice to him. He likes you. Thanks for that, by the way. That’s really nice of you.”
Some nerve in that hard face seemed to jump in disbelief or discomfort, I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t realize I’d mentioned Rodrigo’s death until after I was done. Dallas reached up to scrub at the trimmed hairs along his jaw, shaking his head. “Don’t thank me. He’s a good kid. They’re both good kids.” His hand moved along to palm the back of his neck. “My dad died when I was young. I’m sure I would’ve been the same way when I was his age. I get it.”
His dad had died? I didn’t know that. Then again, how would I? I wondered how old he’d been, but kept the question to myself, focusing on the good part of what he’d said, and part of me hoped he wouldn’t ask about my brother, so I switched the subject.
“I’m sure that mindset helps when you’re coaching little boys. I can tell they all really like you.” I could. When Dallas talked to them, their attention was zeroed in on him. He was patient with them even when they didn’t listen to his instructions and kept doing the wrong thing over and over again. I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together so well.
That amazing hazel-eyed gaze slid over to me, and he raised a brawny shoulder casually. “That’s why I do it. I like the idea of being there for somebody who maybe doesn’t have anyone else around, teaching them what I didn’t have someone around to teach me.” He stated it like what he’d been through as a kid without a father was a fact. Like not having a dad was just something as uncomplicated as him not having a dog growing up. He didn’t say it like it was some huge, secret burden. It just was what it was, and I thought that was why his words hit me so hard. He actually liked what he did for a good reason.
I swallowed and somehow kept myself from smiling at him, knowing that would probably just make the situation awkward. “I’m not saying this to flirt with you…” The sides of his mouth flexed the slightest bit at the same time I made that comment, but I kept going. I was just messing with him, I told myself, trying to keep this as light as I could. “But that’s really nice of you. You never know when even a little bit of kindness might change someone’s life.”
Dallas’s smile slowly melted into a serious expression and a stiff nod. “I know.”
He knew. After rubbing my hands on my pants, I reached over for the towel I had next to the sink and started to refold it. “So, how’d you end up with the Tornado?”
“Trip wanted to start his own team because he had a falling out with Dean’s old coach, and got me drunk enough to agree to take one on with him as an assistant. He didn’t know shit about baseball, but he’s learned. I had to read a couple of books about the rules. I hadn’t played in years,” he explained.
“Did you play ball when you were younger or what?”
“Little league and high school. I watched it more than I played it. I didn’t go to some fancy school for it or anything.”
There was something in his tone then that didn’t sit right with me. “I didn’t go to some fancy school for anything either.” I needed to stop looking him in the eyes unless it was necessary. “I hated college. I did a semester of basics and decided it wasn’t for me.”
“You cut hair?”
“And color it… and style it,” I added in a joking voice before stopping myself. God forbid he think I was flirting. “I mostly do color now.”
Dallas leaned a hip against the kitchen counter, crossing both arms over his chest. I’d already noticed all the dirty smudges along his forearms and biceps from practice. He’d taken off his cap before he’d come over. “Trip said you won’t cut his hair.”
And I thought I had a big mouth. “Nope.”
Those dark brown eyebrows knitted together like he couldn’t believe I would say no to his cousin. “Why?”
“I’m doing just fine with mostly only women, some kids, and the few men who have stuck with me for a while now. I’m not worried about it. The last time I took a new male client, he tried to stick his face between my boo—chest.” I shrugged. “No more for me.”
He frowned. “People do that?”
“Yeah. One of my coworkers is a guy and he’s always getting his butt pinched,” I explained to him before making a face. “But he doesn’t mind half the time as long as he gets a good tip.”
The shocked look on his face made me laugh.
“Mr. Dallas, do you wanna play Xbox with me?” came Louie’s singsong voice from the living room.
What the hell? It was after ten. The only reason I hadn’t sent them to bed yet was because I’d been washing dishes.
“Isn’t it his bedtime?” Dallas asked in a lowered voice.
I nodded at him. “Louie! Play Xbox my ass—butt. Come tell Mr. Dallas goodnight so you can get to bed,” I called out, rolling my eyes at this sneaky kid.
I heard an “aww man” from the living room.
It took a couple of seconds for Louie to trudge into the kitchen, heading straight toward the neighbor. He still hadn’t even bothered putting his pajamas on yet. His school pants were even dirtier than I’d imagined. His face seemed flush, but I ignored it. “Goodnight, Mr. Dallas.” He sounded grumpy. Too bad.
“Night, Louie,” Dallas answered back, that big, gruff hand lowering so he could get a high five from a hand so much smaller than his.
Louie gave him a little smile as he slapped his hand down as hard as he could. “You can come by tomorrow if you want. Right, Buttercup?”
Uhh…
“I got something I gotta do tomorrow, but maybe after that. We’ll see, buddy, yeah?” the man reasoned, saving me the trouble of having to find a way to tell Lou our neighbor had other things to do.
If Dallas didn’t know it, he found out then: my Louie was the most innocent soul in the universe. He didn’t ask for much. He didn’t need much. And Dallas’s vague words were enough. “Okay. Goodnight.” He turned around and started to head out of the kitchen again, leaving me standing there before he finally whipped around. “See you in my room?” he asked, finally remembering I was in the same room. Traitor.
“Yeah, Goo. I’ll see you in a minute.”
“’Kay. Night!” he seemed to holler at us both.
I turned to face Dallas with another apology and assurance ready, but he beat me to it.
He lowered his chin to say, “Don’t. I know neither one of you is doing anything, or coming on to me.” He met my gaze evenly, seriously.
I couldn’t help it. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”