"I didn't want to make it easy for you to say no."
"I'm still saying no, Pru."
"What if I said I need you?" she asked softly.
He paused for the slightest of beats. "Then I'd say you have my full attention."
"I mean we need you. The team," she said. "We'll have to forfeit-"
"No."
She crossed her arms. "You said I had your attention."
"You have that and more," he said cryptically. "But I'm still not playing tonight. Or any night."
She knew he was living life carefully, always prepared for anything to go bad. But she knew that wasn't any way to live because the truth was that any minute life could be poof-gone. "Do you remember the other day when you caught me at my worst and saw a few of my demons?" she asked quietly.
"You mean when the picture frame broke."
"Yes," she said, not surprised he knew exactly what she was talking about, that she hadn't been even slightly effective in hiding her painful memories from him.
"You didn't want to talk about it," he said.
"No," she agreed. "And you let me get away with that." She dropped her gaze a little and stared at his torso rather than let him see what she was feeling now. "Whether it was because it doesn't matter to you, or because you have your own demons, I don't know, but-"
"Pru."
Oh thank God, he'd shut her up. Sometimes she really needed help with that. She stared at his neck now, unable to help noticing even in her growing distress and sudden discomfort that he had a very masculine throat, one that made her want to press her face to it and maybe her lips too. And her tongue . . .
"Pru, look at me."
He said this in his usual low timbre, but there was a gentle demand to the tone now that had her lifting her gaze to his.
"It matters," he said. "You matter."
This caused that now familiar squishy feeling in her belly, the one only he seemed to be able to evoke. But it also meant that it was his demons eating at him and this killed her. "Softball is a problem for you," she whispered.
"No." He closed his eyes for a beat. "Yeah. Maybe a little, by association." He blew out a sigh and turning his head, stared at the sweet car he'd been working on.
Which was when she remembered he'd had to quit playing baseball in college to raise Sean.
God, she was such an idiot.
"You'll have to forfeit?" he asked.
"Yes, but-"
"Shit." He shut the hood of the Chevelle and went hands on hips. "Tell me you guys are good."
She crossed her fingers. "You have to see us to believe it."
Chapter 13.
#BadNewsBears Not ten minutes into the game, Finn stood behind home plate wearing all of the catcher's gear, staring at the team in complete disbelief.
He'd been recruited by a con artist.
He slid his con artist a look. She was playing first base, looking pretty fucking adorable in tight, hip-hugging jeans and a siren red tee with a ragged penny jersey over the top of it, heckling the other team.
She was without a doubt, the hottest con artist he'd ever seen.
"You suck," she yelled to the batter, her hands curved around her mouth.
The batter yelled back, "How about you suck me?" And then he blew her a kiss.
Finn straightened to kick the guy's ass but the ref pointed to the batter and then gestured he was out.
"On what grounds?" the guy demanded.
"Being an idiot."
This came from the coach of Pru's team. Jake. He sat at the edge of the dugout, baseball cap on backward, dark lenses, fierce frown . . . a badass in a wheelchair.
With Thor in his lap.
Finn waited for the ump to give Jake a T and kick him out of the game but it didn't happen. Instead, the hitter took one look at Jake, kicked the dirt, and walked back to his dugout.
The next two batters got base hits and both made it all the way home thanks to the fumbling on the field.
Pru's team was the Bad News Bears.
In the dugout between innings, Pru tried to keep morale up, clapping people on the backs, telling them "good job" and "you're looking great out there."
Her rose-colored glasses must also be blinders. Because no one had done a good job and no one had looked great out there either.
At the bottom of the next inning, Finn watched his teammates blow through two strikes in two batters.
The third person up to bat was a twenty-something who had her dark hair up in a high ponytail that fell nearly to her ass. She was teeny tiny and had a sweet, shy smile.
Finn did not have high hopes for her. He might have muttered this under his breath. And Pru might have heard him.
She shot him a dark look. "Positive reinforcement only," she told him. "Or you'll have to go dark."
"Dark?"
"Yeah." She jabbed a thumb toward Jake, who was on the other side of her, watching the field, expression dialed to irritated as Thor snoozed on in his lap. "Like Coach Jake," Pru said and turned to her boss. "How are we doing tonight?"
Jake paused as if struggling with the right words. "Fuckin' great," he finally said.
He didn't look great, he looked like he was at stroke level, but Pru beamed at him and then patted his shoulder.
Jake blew out a heavy exhale. "I'll get you back, Prudence."
She gritted her teeth. "We talked about this. You only use my whole name if you want to die. Horribly and slowly."
"Prudence?" Finn repeated, amused by the death glare.
"I know, hard to believe, right?" Jake asked. "It's an oxymoron," Jake said. "She's anything but prudent."
Finn smiled. "And the they're doing great' part?" he asked Prudence. "Are we watching the same game?"
Jake did an impressive eyeroll, slid Pru a glare, and kept his silence, although it looked like it cost him.
"It's called encouragement," Pru said. "And Jake had to go dark, meaning he can't talk unless he's saying something positive, on account of how he used to lower our morale so badly we couldn't play worth anything."
Finn bit back the comment that they couldn't play worth anything now but as the girl at bat stood there letting two perfect strikes go by without swinging and Jake's expression got darker and darker, he nearly laughed.
Nearly.
Because he had no idea how Jake was doing it, keeping his mouth shut. Competition went to the bone with Finn and he was guessing Jake felt the same. "Is she going to swing?" he asked. "Or just keep the bat warm?"
A strangled snort came from Jake, which he turned into a cough when Pru glared at him.
"Abby is Jake's secretary," Pru said. "She's really great."
Finn looked at Jake.
Jake gave a slow head shake.
"What," Pru said, catching it. "She's wonderful! She handles your entire office and she's always sweet, even when you're a total asshole."
"Yes," Jake said. "She's a sweetheart. She's great. In my office and also at handling me, even when I'm a total asshole. What she isn't great at is softball."
"She's learning," Pru insisted.
Abby struck out.
The next batter was a lean and lanky kid, late teens, early twenties maybe.
"Nick," Pru told Finn. "He works in maintenance."
"Pru got him the job," Jake said and Pru shushed him. Nick strolled out of the dugout, winked at Pru and got a second base hit.
The next batter was a young kid who couldn't have been more than eighteen. She wore thick-rimmed glasses and squeaked at every pitch. She also swung at every ball that came her way and several that didn't.
What she didn't do was connect with a single one. Probably because she kept her eyes closed, which meant that her glasses weren't doing jack shit for her.
Finn tried not to care. It was just a softball game, and a bad one at that, but come on. He looked over at Coach Jake and pointed to their batter. "Mind if I . . .?"
Jake gestured for him to go ahead, his expression saying good luck.
"Kid," Finn called out.
The kid turned to face him.
"Finn," Pru said warningly but he didn't care. He didn't know how she'd gotten Jake to "go dark" but Finn hadn't made any such promise.
"What's your name?" Finn asked.
"Kasey," the girl said. "I work in accounts receivable."
"You know how to hit, Kasey?"
"Yeah." She paused. "No."
Shit. "Okay, it's easy," Finn said. "You just keep your eyes open, you got me?"
She bobbed her head.
"Make contact with the ball, Kasey. That's all you gotta do."
Kasey nodded again but failed to swing at the next pitch. She turned to nervously eye Finn.
"That's okay," Finn told her. "That was a sucky pitch, you didn't want a piece of that one anyway. The next one's yours." And he hoped that was true.
Pru watched Kasey swing at the next ball and connect.
Finn launched himself off the bench. "Yes!" he yelled, pumping his fist. "That's it, baby, that's it!"
He'd started off not wanting to be here, resenting the game, and yet now he was one hundred percent in it. Even, Pru suspected, having fun. Watching him gave her a whole bunch of feels, not the least of which was happy. She was really doing it, giving him something back.
After Kasey hit the ball, she dropped the bat like it was a hot potato and whipped around to flash a grin Finn's way, executing some sort of very white girl boogie while she was at it. "I did it! Did you see? I hit the ball!"
"Yeah, you did. Now run, Kasey!" Finn yelled, pointing to first base. "Run your little ass off!"
With a squeak, she turned and started running.
Finn laughed. He laughed and turned that laughing face Pru's way and she nearly threw herself at him.
"Having fun?" she asked, unable to keep her smile to herself.