Page 63 of Takes Two to Tango

He locked the shed and turned toward the dugout. Rayne still stood among the other parents, no doubt discussing what dishes they'd bring that night to the banquet. He loved the way she moved her hands when she talked. Henry ran around with Cameron Harp, racing to the concession stand and back. She and Henry looked as if they belonged here. That thought buoyed him, so he headed her way.

"Hey," he said, touching her shoulder lightly, drawing her attention away from the other mothers. Was it too intimate?

She turned and her cheeks bloomed with color. "Hey, yourself. Good game.”

Why was she blushing? Was it shame? Did she regret what had happened between them? No. What had occurred between them had been good, not tainted with guilt. She'd been his equal in every way-not the muse-like specter she'd accused him of creating in his mind. What had happened had been initiated by her, and it had been absolutely good and right between them.

"You coming tonight?" he asked. His mind dipped right to naughty at his own words. Hers must have, too, for her eyes widened. Desire hummed in his veins as he noted the delicate pulse in her neck, the smooth slope of her shoulder, the smell of vanilla that was her essence.

"You mean the Oak Stand Athletic Club celebration banquet?"

"Did you think I meant something else?" he asked, trying to make it teasing, but failing. It sounded like an invitation.

Her cheeks deepened in color and she laughed nervously. "Of course not. I knew you meant the banquet."

For the past three years the Oak Stand Athletic Club had hosted a banquet at the beginning of May rather than at the end. Most families had little energy or enthusiasm for baseball parties in late May with the end of school and the launch of vacations. Trophies were awarded at the last game, but they held the banquet before things got too hectic.

"Well, our coach is being honored as Coach of the Year. I wouldn't miss it," she said, smiling as she glanced to where Henry messed around with a few teammates. "Henry’s so excited you're receiving the award. He's talked about nothing else for the past week... just in case anyone around our house forgot about it."

She spoke so the other mothers could hear her.

Brandi and a few others laughed appropriately. Stacy even gave him a thumbs-up before grabbing Cameron's bat bag and trudging toward her minivan. Waves and "see ya tonights" were given as the crowd of parents thinned out.

Brent gave a wave or two and refocused on the woman standing in front of him. "I'm supposed to sit at the head table tonight, but I can have a guest. Do you want to sit with me? Henry, too, of course."

"We can sit with you?" Henry squealed, skidding to a stop in front of them.

Rayne opened her mouth and then shut it. She stared at Henry and then looked back at Brent. He could read her eyes. She knew sitting with him would send a message. A very public message.

''Come on, Mom, we got to," Henry pleaded, nearly jumping up and down. "It'll be so cool."

Brent waited. Henry hopped about squeaking, "Please." And Rayne looked like a mouse in a trap.

Was showing everyone in Oak Stand that they were an item really that bad?

HOW HAD HENRY HEARD BRENT?He'd been airplaning around, whooping with the other boys. Jeez. Boys and their selective hearing. How could Rayne say no now? She couldn't. But it seemed another giant step in a direction she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. Sitting with Brent made a statement, one everyone would be talking about. Was she ready for that? She supposed if she could sneak around and have hot sex with her son’s coach, she should at least be willing to sit with him at a baseball banquet.

Still, setting her plate next to him on a raised platform in front of Oak Stand's finest would have implications.

Was she afraid of them? Afraid the town would see her as another notch on Brent's bedpost? Would they see her as easy or weak? Or merely like Brandi? A woman looking for a plaything.

Self-doubts liked to play ping-pong with her thoughts.

Brent watched her. She could see his thoughts, see his worry. He wanted her to say yes. He wanted to claim her out in the open. The idea both thrilled her and scared her.

She'd not told a soul that she'd slept with Brent, though naughty Aunt Fran had given her sly smiles and made juvenile innuendoes about sausage yesterday morning.

"I guess we could," she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder along with the cooler strap. Brent took the chair and carried it over to her car. "You don't want your parents to sit with you? It's a nice honor."

Brent shook his head. "I'd rather have you next to me.”

Those words sank into her brain, rattled around, and did something to her heart. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Let me pick you up. No sense taking two cars."

Henry had stopped to throw dirt clods at a Dumpster. No one else was around her car. Brent moved closer to her, caught her hand. She put the cooler on the back floor and shut the door. "You think that's a good idea?"

He smiled and the heat in his blue eyes told her he was thinking of more than baseball and banquet speeches. She felt her blood ignite. His subtle, clean scent wrapped around her, a reminder of the way his skin felt against hers. She also remembered the way she'd called his name when she'd tumbled over into the most intense orgasm she'd had.

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