Page 87 of Karma's Kiss

“I told you I liked you back then.”

“And I didn’t believe it.Couldn’tbelieve it.”

He takes one hand off me to rub the back of his neck shyly. “Yeah, well it was silly of me to go in there that day. I had no plan. What was I going to do, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

I smile and rise up to kiss his cheek. “You could have. I’d have said yes. Would have saved us a few years of trouble, don’t you think?”

His eyes are heated now as he imagines this. “God. What would I have done with you if I’d had you all these years?”

I lean into him and lower my voice. “I can think of a few things.”

And then I can’t help but tell him all my deliciously wicked ideas forwhat he could do with mein a whisper so that he forgets about the flowers and the fact that we’re meant to meet my family for dinner in thirty minutes. He props me on the counter and thanks me for those dozen red roses—twice.

EPILOGUE

“LISTEN UP!We’ve worked all year for this. We’re going to tear them to shreds! We’re going to run them into the ground! I want to see blood, sweat, and tears on the field today. DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

A dozen voices echo in unison, “YES, COACH!”

Their collective shouts rattle my eardrums.

As I watch this highly entertaining pregame pep talk, Lindsey comes up beside me and holds out a red Solo cup. Salt glistens on the rim. “Want a margarita?”

“Thought you’d never ask…” I take the drink from her and tip it in the direction of the Cedar Valley dugout, where their coach is now leading the team in an earsplitting rendition of Queen’s “We Will Rock You”. Freddie Mercury is rolling over in his grave.

It’s so interesting to watch them. I’m horrified, of course, but I can’t look away. I stare on as a guy aggressively tears open a packet ofsomethingwith his teeth—energy goop? steroid juice?—and then he squeezes the contents into his mouth before giving a rowdy “Hoo-rah!” and chest-bumping his teammate.

I glance at Lindsey, she glances back, and we share a private smile. “I honestly thought they would have mellowed…”

“Are you kidding?” She laughs. “The fact that we beat them last summer probably ruined their entire year. They’ve done nothing but practice day and night ever since. That coach has thought about nothing else.”

She’s probably right.

“Whydo they take it so seriously?”

This is the first game of the season. Most of us haven’t touched a baseball in months; I definitely haven’t. I’ve had my hands full with newborn life.

She shrugs. “Don’t ask me. Like usual, I’m only here for the margaritas, and more importantly, between you and me, I like the way David looks in his baseball pants. I accidentallyon purposeshrunk them in the wash this week.”

She admits the last part with a proud wink.

“Lindsey!” I dry heave.

Unbothered, she replies, “Sorry, your brother’s got a great tush.”

Gross.

“You better watch it or you’re going to have baby number two.”

She shrugs, totally unbothered by my warning. “You know what?I just might.”

Oh god. Queenie would love that. Two grandchildren aren’t enough for her. She’s made it clear she wants a half-dozen more. In her words, we’d all better “get to work” on it.

“Speaking of kids.” I glance over her shoulder. “Where are ours? Queenie said she was going to bring them early.”

Our bleachers are mostly empty. No Queenie in sight.

“Cruz probably made her stop for donuts.” She shakes her head. “He knows she’ll always cave—”

---