Page 48 of The Do-Over

She gave him a light push with her shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Flatter me. Unless it’s about my parenting or my botanical illustrations. That’s fair game.” She stole another glance across the table and saw that Chelsey had moved on to flirting with Pedro Carro. Maybe she had a thing for shortstops.

“Okay, you look like Venus rising from the laundry hamper,” said Billy. When she gave him a glare, he winked at her. “Come on, how am I not supposed to compliment you? I appreciate you coming tonight and giving it a hundred percent.”

“You mean you appreciate that I wore something that doesn’t have Sharpie marks or moth holes in it?”

“That too.” He grinned at her with so much affection and understanding that her breath caught. “Mostly, I just appreciate you. Look, it’s time for the speakers already. The time is flying, thanks to you.”

The lights in the ballroom dimmed as the organizer took the stage. The darker it got, the more aware Jenna was of Billy’s big body next to hers. There was a time when she’d loved him so much that she’d been completely attuned to every change in his body—an injury he hadn’t talked about, the beginnings of a cold, emotional stress. She’d loved him with every particle of her being.

Letting him go had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. But also the most necessary. After they’d signed the divorce papers, she’d finally been able to breathe. Her mind had cleared. But her heart had been shattered.

Now things were so much better between her and Billy. She could sit next to him without tormenting herself about the women eyeing him. She didn’t have to worry about what he was doing when she wasn’t around. It wasn’t her business anymore.

She had to give him credit too. He’d done everything he could to make the change seamless for the boys and for her. Not once had he made her feel guilty or somehow to blame, even though she’d initiated the split.

She…well, she loved him for that. A different kind of love. Not the all-consuming physical and clingy kind. The kind that respected the other person’s autonomy.

With a sudden wave of affection, she reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it. His grip was strong, his skin warm and dry, the shape of his hand so familiar that she wanted to kiss it.

He glanced down at her in surprise. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I appreciate you too.”

He lifted her hand and did exactly what she’d just been thinking about doing. He pressed his lips to it in a kiss.

Fifteen

As soon as his lips touched her hand, Billy knew something was different. He and Jenna knew each other about as well as two people could. They’d been through so much together—passion, family, heartbreak—but this…fizzy wildness coursing through his blood was something he hadn’t felt before. It was deeper, more layered.

Irresistible.

A flash had gone off right when he kissed her hand, but he refused to worry about it. The ballroom was dark, and he was by no means the most famous person here. Why would anyone bother to take photos of them?

They let their hands fall back under the table, but didn’t let go of each other. He had no idea what it meant, and he didn’t want to think about it. They were just holding hands, after all.

And kissing. But just her hand. True, they’d agreed on no physical contact, but that was before he’d felt the texture of her skin against his lips and…

Jenna slipped her hand away from his. It felt empty and cold without her. Where was his favorite glove Lancelot when he needed it?

“Ladies’ room,” she explained to the table in general. She headed for the exit, which required her to round the table, specifically the part of the table where Chelsey sat. She was hurrying, moving too fast. Billy opened his mouth to tell her to slow down because of those damn shoes when she wobbled and started to fall. She saved herself by grabbing onto Chelsey, who let out a startled yelp. Billy shot to his feet, all set to dive across the table to help her.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Jenna tried to stand up, then slipped and grabbed onto her again. “It’s these shoes. I’m not used to them. Are you okay?”

One strap of Chelsey’s dress was halfway down her arm and one of her extensions had fallen from her crown of a hairstyle, but she managed a sultry smile anyway. “Quite all right, darling. Are you?”

Jenna finally made it back onto her feet. Her face glowed pink with embarrassment. “Incredibly mortified, but uninjured. I’m really sorry.”

“You’re adorable. Now get to the ladies’ room, it must be an urgent situation.”

“Yes. The urgent situation is that I’m sort of a clumsy idiot.” Jenna left, walking as carefully as if she’d just been stopped for drunk driving.

Billy sat back down, wondering if he should follow and check on her. But Randy leaned in close to tell him about a conversation he’d had with Pedro, the other shortstop, who was quite sure that he’d be the starting shortstop in the spring.

“What are you going to do?” he whispered. “You gotta do something. You can’t just let him take your spot.”

“I don’t want to talk about that shit tonight. I’m trying to have fun.”

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