Page 65 of Hot Shot

My smile falls when I spot Tate heading our way, his face drawn. Greyson, our coach, is at his side looking a little more sour than usual. Where Tate is long and lean and smirking, Greyson is broad and tall and scowling, with a tidy silver beard and salt-and-pepper hair. It’s cut short on the sides and long on the top, a silver fox if I ever saw one.

I’d tell him if I wasn’t sure he’d deck me.

Tate spots Molly, and a smile slides onto his lips, all but prowling toward us like a big cat. Shameless motherfucker. Coach spotted her too—his eyes narrowing a hair with the slight flare of his nostrils.

“Well, hey,” Tate says. “Who’s this?”

Cass gives him a look, but introduces them. Molly just smiles and shakes his hand.

“Quite the shake you got there,” he notes, chuckling.

Grey folds his arms and scowls.

“Daddy might not have played baseball, but he taught me how to shake, at least.”

Tate laughs a little too hard. Molly doesn’t notice.

“And this is Greyson, the coach,” Cass says.

Beneath the shadow of his ball cap, I think I catch a glimpse of color on his cheeks. He doesn’t extend a hand, just grumbles,Howdo,with a nod.

“Hey, are y’all coming to The Horseshoe for drinks?” Tate asks us, but he’s looking at Molly like she’s a slab of Wagyu.

“Can’t,” I say. “We’re on parent duty.”

“And how about you?” Tate asks. Grey looks like he’s going to separate Tate’s head from his body.

Molly hugs her book. “Oh, no thank you. I don’t really drink.”

“First time for everything,” Tate says with a shrug. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Greyson practically growls, “She said she didn’t want to go, dumbass. Leave her alone.”

Tate gives him a look like he’s old and boring but shows his palms in surrender. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

“Did you come over here to make an ass out of yourself or did you need something?” I ask.

He makes a face at me, “Oh, ha-ha.” But then his face smooths, his brows drawing together in concern. “I heard from Hannigan about the fire.” He glances at the playground to make sure Cricket is still playing before taking a step closer. “They just arrested the ex for murder.”

What he says after that comes in a blur, my mind firing with questions and scenarios and imagining the worst of the worst. I could see Trent being so out of control that he just burned the house down with her in it. But I remember the look on his face, the haunted, hollow eyes of a man who had lost everything. He loved her. Would he do this? Could he do it?

The truth is, I don’t know.

That’s the scariest part of all. Because if he’s capable of that, he’s capable of worse.

And as I watch my daughter play, oblivious to it all, I hope Trent wouldn’t be that stupid.

Because I’ll be damned if I let him take anything else.

CHAPTER 25

TIPPY-TOE

Jessa: There were too many people around to be obnoxious about that kiss. Are you alright? I’d ask if you need mouth-to-mouth, but Wilder seems to have that covered quite well.

Cass: LOL. Yes.

Jessa: Really? That’s all you’ll give me? That was the horniest kiss I’ve ever seen in public.

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