Just don’t tell Max I said that.
Chapter Four
JEFF WASpermitted to pay for dinner, mostly because Carter was busy riding herd on fifteen five-year-olds who all wanted to tell him about their week and there was no way they were going to let him walk to the food truck. Jeff wandered over himself, dropped off Carter’s dinner along with a drink, and took a seat in the stands. He hoped his sunglasses would provide some level of anonymity. No one would expect to see a rock star at a T-ball game anyway.
At least, no one who hadn’t grown up in Willow Sound, where the knowledge that Carter and Jeff had been thick as thieves was common and inescapable. But Jeff figured he could handle the locals.
Probably.
That was what Jeff told himself until a vaguely familiar voice said, “Oh my God—” and then quieted noticeably. “Jeff?”
Crap.
Jeff reluctantly tore his gaze away from the game, where Carter, in a forest-green Rhodes’s Garage T-shirt, was cheering on a kindergartener to run home instead of going from third base directly into the dugout. The woman who’d spoken was Carter’s age, with dark skin and short natural hair held back with a band. He was sure she’d been in some of Carter’s classes—what was her name—
“It’s Alyssa,” she said before he could come up with it. “You probably don’t remember me—”
Jeff smiled politely and shifted over on the paint-chipped bleacher so she’d have room. “You were homecoming queen my first year of high school.” Carter had been runner-up for homecoming king. Jeff paid attention to things like that.
“Wow, I stand corrected.” She laughed and took the seat next to him. “I guess you’re here with Carter?”
It was public knowledge that Jeff didn’t have kids, so either he was here with an adult who had a reason to be here or he had a problem. “Yeah, but I’ve been warned to stay out of the splash zone. What about you?” He didn’t want to make any assumptions.
“Oh, I’m here for the rivalry,” she joked. Off Jeff’s blank look, she nodded toward the opposing dugout. “My husband coaches the red team. That’s our son digging for worms behind second base.”
Sure enough, there was a kid kneeling in the infield, glove discarded, digging a tiny trench with a stick.
“You must be so proud,” Jeff said before he could think better of it.
Alyssa wasn’t offended; she snorted good-naturedly. “Honestly, I love the fact that he can just be a kid. Sure, worms are gross, but whatever. At least he’s not trying to trip the runners.”
Did kids do that at this age? “So, when you say rivalry…?”
“Oh, no, the kids aren’t that psycho. Don’t worry,” she laughed. “That was a joke about my husband and my ex-fiancé coaching opposing teams.”
Her ex-what?
“Which is also funny because they actually get along really….” Alyssa caught the expression on his face and trailed off. “Guess I stepped in it. Carter didn’t tell you about the engagement?”
What was he supposed to say to that? Whatever he answered was going to make Carter look like a jerk. “In fairness we didn’t really reconnect until recently.” And if she had a five-year-old, chances were the broken engagement was old news.
She winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it awkward. I swear there’s no hard feelings.”
This conversation was over Jeff’s head. He decided to change the subject. “It’s fine. So, was he right about surprise vomit being something to worry about, or did he make that up to impress me?”
They chatted until the end of the third inning, when the kids had a break for snacks and drinks and, Jeff thought, because they couldn’t be expected to concentrate on the game any longer. Alyssa abandoned him for the red team’s dugout, where her son greeted her with both hands out in front of him. Alyssa clutched her chest and telegraphed excitement. Jeff assumed the kid was holding a worm.
Meanwhile, a parent had taken over in the green dugout and Carter was making his way toward Jeff. “Clementine?” He held out a hand with four of them. Jeff refused to be distracted by how easily they fit there.
He took one anyway. “Ex-fiancé?” he said mildly, rolling the clementine to loosen the skin.
Carter sat in Alyssa’s vacated spot. “I see you were talking to Alyssa.”
Jeff shoved his thumb into the center of the clementine. “She recognized me. I recognized her too, I guess.” He wasn’t going to ask about it. It wasn’t his business. And it was long over. Time to move on. “Were you going to mention you’d been engaged, or nah?”
Damn it.
Carter shrugged. “It was a long time ago. We were barely out of university.”
