“I’m Beau. What are you doing later?” This incites chuckles from his comrades.

“Don’t listen to him, Georgia. I’m a much better catch, I’m Jake, by the way, catcher for the Cutters.”

My shoulders tense. “Oh…. Cutters… good for you,” I say stupidly. “I don’t really follow baseball.”

“That’s a shame. I’d be happy to catch you up,” he replies, “no pun intended.” I shake my head and smile. He is pretty charming, but athletes in general fall under the never ever again category. I set the last bowl on the table. As I head back to the kitchen, I hear Beau say, “I called her first.” I roll my eyes.

As I’m approaching table four, I spot him.Holy crap, Cade!He has no earthly right to look that good. I send up a silent prayer for strength. The frown and piercing stare coming from his glittering sapphire eyes burn a hole clear through my uniform. My nerves start tingling. I swear, what are the odds? I must have done something pretty awful in a past life to deserve this, that’s all I’m saying.

I avoid eye contact, keeping my head bowed as I serve them their salads. I notice he’s drinking a sweet tea. He always did like his sweet tea. I guess he’s staying sober tonight. Not that I care. He can do as he likes. When I get to him, my arm accidentally brushes against his as I go to place his salad down. I startle like a baby deer. My hand starts shaking and the bowl tips precariously. Next thing I know he’s wrapping his strong tanned hand around mine to steady me.

“Hello, Georgia,” he says quietly so only I can hear. There is steel in his voice so I reckon he got a good enough look at his son.

I nod then whisper, “Cade.” I place the basket of warm rolls in the center of the table and make a beeline out of there. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” I mutter under my breath.

I stack the tray on top of the others and take myself off to a corner to recuperate before it’s time to serve the next course.Now what? I’m pretty dang sure he’s put two and two together. At the very least he has his suspicions.

5

CADE

Ican feel Dean’s eyes on me as I tuck into my salad. He whistles softly then says, “Who was that?”

I use my cloth napkin to wipe off the ranch dressing from my chin which buys me time before answering. “Her name is Georgia,” I settle on.

His brows jump. “Georgia, huh? You know her?”

“You could say that.”

“I just did. She is lush. What’s the story?”

“What makes you think there’s a story?” I prevaricate.

“Got my eyebrows singed by looking at the two of you.”

I bite back a grin. “Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

“Is she single?”

“No idea. I haven’t talked to her since I got traded to San Diego two years ago.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, it’s like that then. I think I can fill in the blanks.”

“Some of them.” I wolf down my salad in record time, my leg bouncing in anticipation for the serving of our next course.

“I can’t believe you let that babe get away.”

“My biggest regret,” I admit. Dean and I came up together in Triple-A and have stayed in touch even after he got called up to the majors a year before I did. He plays centerfield for the Cutters and I’ve been placed in left field, so our bond has only strengthened since my return.

“Never too late.”

“She might beg to differ. Didn’t end well,” I say.

“My motto, try to live so you won’t have regrets. You’re single, right? Worth a try.”

I huff out a breath. “It’s a little more complicated than that, my friend. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“Here she comes,” Dean says, nudging me. I definitely didn’t need him to tell me that, since my radio dial is fully tuned into channel Georgia. She’s carrying that large tray with the grace of a dancer so I think she’s no stranger to waiting tables. Our table is last so I lean my chair back and watch her flit in and out of the kitchen. Dean isn’t wrong, she is lush, even more so since I left her. She’s pretending like the elephant isn’t in the room, that’d be me, but I know better. There is only her and me. I know it, she knows it. Her cheeks are flushed when she finally reaches my table and has to address me.