Page 64 of Mom Ball

“Well, as coach, for better or worse, I wanted to help.”

I smile. Morgan’s had a long day. We only played two games, but it was way more than she’s used to throwing. If we’d lasted longer, I might would’ve had to pitch. That would make things even worse.

“You’re a good woman, Morgan.” Mama side hugs her.

“Thanks, Mrs. M.”

“You will make a good man very happy one day.”

Morgan glances at me behind Mama and laughs.

I’ve thought of setting her up before, but she’s never let on like she wants another relationship. Her ex left her alone with four kids, and she’s the most independent person I know. I wish I were as strong as her.

If I didn’t have my supportive family, I never would’ve made it as a single mom.

“Where are your kids?” Mama asks.

“They found Timothy outside. Except for Isabella. I took her to the park earlier for practice, then she’s spending the night with a friend.”

“I don’t see how you keep up with multiple kids playing ball at the same time,” I say.

“My house is a mess, and we live off overstock cereal from the Pig half the week.”

“Enjoy it. One day they’ll grow up.” Mama’s eyes soften as she gives me her sentimental face.

Cars come down the gravel drive. I check my phone, shocked at how fast the afternoon passed. I’m not used to spending half my day at the ballpark.

I grab the tablecloths from the side of the pantry and go outside to cover the folding tables. Daddy is cleaning the grill beside the porch steps, and the kids toss a football between their house and mine.

I’m halfway to the tables when Nate’s truck pulls up. My heart catches in my throat. I’d almost invited him when we decided to feed everyone tonight.

Either he chose now to randomly stop by . . . or someone else invited him.

I crane my neck and stare inside the kitchen window. Morgan waves and winks.

Yep, someone else invited him.

“Hey.”

I turn to Nate standing a few feet away. The wind whiffs his just-showered scent my way. I suck in the smell as my eyes settle on a clean white shirt tugging against his chest muscles.

“Hi,” I manage to whisper.

“Morgan invited me. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” I shake my head to reset my vision. “The kids will be glad to see you.”

“Just the kids?” He raises one eyebrow and I swoon.

He should not have this effect on me. Especially in the presence of kids, with my daddy a few feet away wielding sharp grilling utensils.

“We’re all glad to see you.” I emphasize the use of second person. The last thing I need is for him to realize he still has me if he wants me.

“Hey, Nate.” Tami comes out of nowhere.

She’s wearing what I’d consider a cross between a cocktail dress and spandex workout wear. Her thigh tattoo is on full display, and she doesn’t seem to notice—or care—that her baby is pulling the top of her dress.

I clear my throat to get her attention. She slowly turns from Nate to me, and I nod at her chest. I’d be happy if someone discreetly let me know my bra was showing, but I don’t think she gets my signal.

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