Page 42 of Takes Two to Tango

He nodded. "I know. I checked out a joke book in the school library. I got better knock-knock jokes for you."

Brent ruffled Henry's hair, tugging the bill down over his eyebrows. "Good. I need more material."

Rayne broke away from the group of mothers and walked toward them. Her hips swayed gently. She wore a skirt and sandals with the T-shirt. On most women the outfit would have looked strange, but on Rayne it looked right.

"I hear you're in the mood for some of Charlie Mac's onion rings," Brent said, pulling off his visor and pushing his hair from his eyes. "Hank thinks aliens abducted you and replaced you with a replica."

Rayne looked down at Henry. "Oh, yeah? You're a funny guy."

''That's what Coach said," Henry said, flipping his glove into the air.

Rayne's eyes met his and something passed between them. Her gaze was warm, cinnamon with a hint of tenderness. Maybe Rayne had finally gotten past "We're not really friends. We're not anything" and had moved on to something. He wasn't sure what that might be, but the invitation for onion rings seemed a step in the right direction. "Well then, your mom and I agree on something."

Rayne tore her gaze from him and looked at her fidgety son."Stop before you hit someone."

Henry stopped. "Let's go already."

"So," Rayne said, "do you want to go for a burger?"

"Have I ever turned down food?"

She smiled. "Not in this lifetime. I'll treat. To celebrate the victory."

He shrugged. "Even better. I'm a cheap date. I'll only eat two burgers."

"Can I ride with Brent?" Henry asked, running to the passenger side of the truck before she could even answer him. He jerked on the locked door. Then frowned when it didn't budge. "It's locked."

Rayne ignored her son and looked at Brent. "You want to leave your truck here and ride with us? Aunt Frances is going to Myrtle Wilson's for bridge and finger sandwiches, so we've got room."

"Sure, as long as you're good with swinging me back here afterward."

"Sure."

''You can ride shotgun!" Henry whooped, nearly tripping over his shoelaces as he lunged to grab Brent.

Henry packed a punch, slamming against Brent's legs and wrapping his arms about Brent's hips. Brent stumbled, took a step away, and patted the boy's back. The impromptu show of affection should have felt awkward, but it didn't.

"This is the best day ever," Henry said against his legs. Immediately Brent's mind tripped back to several days before, the whispered words against his neck at the fountain.I wish you were my dad.

Alarms clanged in his brain, so Brent retreated another step and tugged Henry's ball cap over his eyes the way he'd done earlier. "Any day you hit a home run is a good day, sport."

He lifted his gaze to Rayne. She looked so sad and resigned. A prickling of awareness surged between them. It wasn't passion or any sort of sexual energy, though he knew that to be lurking beneath the surface. It was more of a human, Hallmark-cardsort of moment. A poignant moment of understanding. Of a boy. Without a father. Wishing it was different.

Brent swallowed the sudden emotion that clogged his throat as Rayne turned and clicked the button that unlocked the doors on the Volvo crossover sitting four spots away from his truck. It was a somber navy blue car, the kind mothers who were way too protective drove. He bet Henry still had a booster seat in the back.

"Let's grab those burgers," she said, walking away. It was nearly a trudge, as if the heaviness of the moment weighed her down. Henry, ever light on his feet, bounced behind her. Brent pocketed his keys and tried to decide whether his going was a good idea.

He could feel Henry getting attached, and on any other month of Sundays he'd not mind a bit. Henry was a terrific kid, but things felt too fast too soon with the boy. Especially since the future perched precariously on the ledge of uncertainty. He wanted Rayne but not at the risk of Henry's heart. Didn't seem fair for a kid to be the casualty of their messed-up relationship. So maybe he should forget trying to push something with Rayne. Maybe the risk to Henry was too great. He and Rayne could deal, but a kid? Not so much.

He wavered.

Then Rayne turned back to him. "You coming?"

And despite his reservations, there wasn't much more he could do but start walking toward her.

THIS TIMETHE DAIRY BARN was packed. Half the people there were clad in parent shirts declaring whose "Maw Maw" they were while the decidedly smaller other half wore various uniforms with dirty knees and dusty cleats. The atmosphere could only be described as mixed with some kids jubilantlyhopping around the Formica tables and the others modeling how it looked to lose a best friend.

Henry pointed to a small boy with a sad-sack expression. "That's Tyler Ratcliff. He's on the team we beat."

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