Page 56 of Mom Ball

So much for not touching her.

My hand falls to the curve of her back and it’s all too familiar. Like slipping on my favorite pair of sneakers. It just fits.

I take longer than I should sliding my hand away. Her breathing is heavier, either from the nerves of pitching for the first time or from me touching her for the first time in almost a decade.

I clear my throat to reset. “You watched me tell Morgan, so do what she did.”

“I’ll try.” She goes through the motions and pitches the ball.

It falls short of the plate, but also looks a little low.

“You’re a good bit shorter than her. You’ll need more power behind that to get it farther and higher.”

I hand her another ball. This time it makes it to the plate, but it’s still low.

“Too low, huh?” She turns to me with a panicked look.

“Not if we get Carlton to ump.”

She laughs.

“It’s fine, really. Y’all are both doing great, I swear. It’s not easy to pitch, especially to kids.”

“Let me try again.”

I hand her another ball. It goes the same way.

She throws her head back to the sky. “How in the world do I get it higher?” She drops her head to face me.

“Go through the motions without a ball so I can see what you need to change.”

I watch her arm all the way through.

“All right. Bring your elbow up more.”

She lifts her elbow in an awkward position.

“Hang on.” I stand behind her and cup my hand behind her arm. Then I bring it higher. “How’s that feel?” I say, close to her ear.

“Good,” she whispers.

“Yeah?” I whisper back.

She slowly turns her head, and for the second time in a week, we’re within kissing territory. My throat constricts and I can’t get a word out. But I’m not sure what I might say if I could. There are no words for this moment. Actions would speak louder than words.

I dip my head the tiniest bit to put my mouth maybe a centimeter closer to see how she reacts.

“You didn’t do all that with me,” a familiar voice taunts behind me.

I flinch and drop my hand from Brooke’s arm. Morgan stands a few feet back, grinning like a possum.

Busted.

* * *

Brooke

Nate is waiting by the park entrance when we pull up. Timothy smiles and waves at him through the back window.

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