Page 16 of More Than Words

“Or baseball pants. But that was only for games.”

She turned to look over at me. “You played baseball in college?”

“I’m a man of many talents,” I joked, earning an eye roll. “But yeah. Centerfield. All of undergrad.” And those few years after, when I’d thought I might have some genuine talent.

“Ah, so you weren’t a very good baseball player. They stick all the slackers in the outfield.”

“Excuse me? Maybe in little league, but not in college.” I corrected; my bottle perched at my lips as I looked over at her in disbelief. Collegiate baseball was hardly little league. You had to be able to haul ass to be an outfielder and have a rocket arm. My team had some solid wins in my tenure, several of us moving onto the minors after we earned a spot in the College World Series. Not very good, my ass.

“Oh, come on, you can unclench now. I was joking. I was a catcher throughout high school. I’m familiar with the sport.”

“Ah, so that explains why your ass is so spectacular,” I teased, watching a blush form on her cheeks.

“Well, my squat routine isn’t what it was twenty years ago, so I don’t know about spectacular…”

Exaggerating my movements as I leaned back and pretended to study her ass, I appreciated her selection of pants. They accentuated her narrow waist, tapering into the alluring curve of her ass. It was the perfect amount of bubble. I appreciated that Isobel took care of herself but still had some amazing curves. The more muscular women who lacked them at the gym weren’t nearly as fun to cuddle—and do other things with. I liked my women to be a handful, apparently in personality as well, since my attraction to Isobel continued to grow.

“I’m sticking with spectacular. Maybe even bordering on magnificent.”

“Quit staring at my ass,” she laughed, reaching back to cover herself.

“Hey, don’t cover up my view. Didn’t you know I came on this hike for the scenery?”

“How about you enjoy the nature on the trail instead of making crude comments about one of your colleagues’ rear ends?”

“If I were being crude, I would have told you I often imagine biting it. Or fantasizing about seeing if you really could bounce a quarter off someone’s posterior.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” she muttered, picking up the pace and leaving me admiring the view again.

“But I think you like it,” I called after her.

She may have acted annoyed by my flirting and admittedly inappropriate comments, but she couldn’t hide from me with that blush. It was a dead giveaway that I made her flustered.

As we reached the trailhead, Isobel kept a steady pace, veering onto a path that hugged the coast. We walked in silence; me staring blatantly at the slightly cranky woman in front of me and her looking around in awe at our surroundings.

“Can we go down to that beach?”

I shrugged, gesturing for her to lead me down the small path to a rocky beach leading out to the calm water. It wasn’t ideal for swimming, but it had a breathtaking panoramic view of the coastline. Inhaling deeply, I took in the fresh scent of the ocean, closing my eyes and enjoying the slight breeze on my face.

“Should I brave it and dip my toes in?” Isobel asked quietly from her place at my side.

“If you want to lose a few. You realize that water is freezing, right?”

She paused for a moment, nibbling on the corner of her lip as she debated this impulsive decision. “I’m going for it.”

“Should I be prepared to carry you back with frostbitten toes?”

She narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips, not looking the slightest bit intimidating. “Laugh it up, buzz kill. I’m trying to enjoy myself.”

“Personally, I quite enjoy having my toes intact.”

“Wimp,” she muttered before she leaned down to untie her shoes, her joggers pulling snugly over her ass. Her squat routine may not be the same as when she was a catcher, but whatever she did worked.

“Man, you are an old fuddy-duddy,” she laughed while she rolled up the cuffs of her pants. I surely hoped to God she wasn’t planning to wade in there. February was still squarely in the winter season.

“Well, I spend a lot of my free time with octogenarians,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

She paused, straightening back up and turning in my direction. “Seriously? Why?”

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