“Well, I think you’re wrong, Mattie,” he said quietly, letting his gaze meet hers. “I saw your sketch of me. And I think it’s every bit as good as anything on display in the gallery, and I think you’ve underestimated yourself. In fact, I believe your sketch is good enough to sell.” He leaned across the booth and reached for her hands before she could snatch them away. “Will you sell me that sketch, Mattie?”
“Sell it to you?” she repeated in shock. “Don’t be ridiculous, Joe, after all you’re doing for the boys, I’ll give it to you. If you really want it,” she added, making him smile.
“I do, Mattie. I do. But I’d feel better if you let me pay you for it. After all, professionals get paid for their work.”
“Yes, but I’m not a professional, Joe, and I wouldn’t feel right taking money from you.” Yet, she felt ridiculously pleased that he’d even offered, and thought her work good enough to pay actual money for. “You’re welcome to the sketch, but I do need to add a few finishing touches before I give it to you.”
“Fine.” He gave her hands a squeeze. “Thanks, Mattie. This means a lot to me.”
“You two about done over there?” Freddy called from behind the counter. “I’m gonna be able to pack groceries in these bags under my eyes if I don’t get me some shut-eye pretty soon.”
“Finished?” Joe asked, and Mattie nodded, pushing her half-eaten plate of food away. “Let’s go, then, so Freddy can get some sleep.”
Mattie slid out of the booth, grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder as Joe dropped an enormously large bill on the table as a tip.
“Night, Freddy.” He waved at her. “Thanks again.”
“Welcome, Joseph, and don’t forget about that pie.”
“I won’t.” Joe pushed open the diner door and he and Mattie stepped into the dark night. If possible it was even quieter and more deserted now than before. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.” Taking her hand, they walked in silence for a few moments before Joe began to talk.
“Don’t forget we have an all-team meeting tomorrow night.”
“I won’t. Do I have to stay?”
“No,” Joe said, leading her through the little gangway that separated the town hall from the building next door. “It’s just for the team. Then sometime on Saturday, can you stop by the office and pick up the boys’ uniforms?”
Mattie frowned a bit. “Yes, but I don’t know what time. I have to work on Saturday.”
“No problem. If you can’t make it, Mattie, I can always drop them off.” Joe smiled as they reached her car and he turned her to face him. “Besides, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to drop by on Saturday and help the boys with a little practice. Since this is their first year, I’m sure they’ll need a little extra help, even with the basics.”
“Joe, that’s very nice of you.” She glanced down, unable to continue staring into his eyes. It did something to her heart, her pulse and her common sense. “I really do appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He trailed his knuckles down her cheeks in a tender gesture. “Drive safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She swallowed, a little disappointed that he didn’t appear to have any interest in kissing her again. “I will.” She dug her car keys out of her purse. “Thanks for the snack. And for the introduction to Freddy,” she added with a grin as he took her car keys from her to open her door.
“You’re welcome.” He held the door while she climbed in. “Drive safely.”
“I will.” She hesitated, not really wanting to leave.
“Good night, Mattie.” He really didn’t want to say good-night yet. Deliberately, he slipped his hands in his pocket and stepped back from the car, realizing that he’d been playing with fire all day. And perhaps it was best to call it a day before he got singed. Something about Mattie seemed to scramble his senses and affect his judgment in a way no other woman had in a long, long time. And right now what he needed, he realized, like it or not, was some distance. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night.” Mattie shut the door, then started the car, aware that he was simply standing there, watching her. As she pulled away, Mattie couldn’t help thinking about the evening and Joe. He was an incredibly kind man, the kind who could steal a woman’s heart. Fortunately, her heart was protected.
Chapter Five
“Connor, remember what I told you,” Joe said as he stood in the imaginary infield of Mattie’s backyard early Saturday afternoon and tried to get the boys acclimated to the basics of T-ball. “Point your belly button where you want the ball to go.”
“But my belly button doesn’t got a pointer,” he announced, making Joe laugh.
“Remember what I said about the bat. It’s not toothpaste. Don’t squeeze it. Just close your fingers around it and let them rest comfortable around the knob of the bat. See those red buckets we set up? That’s your outfield. Those are the other team’s players and they’re going to do their best to catch your ball and stop your rotation around the bases. So where do you want to hit the ball, Connor?”
“In between the red buckets?” he asked hopefully, glancing at Joe, then shoving his glasses up his sweaty nose.
Kids were smart as whips, Joe thought, glancing at Cody who was fidgeting over on second base. “That’s right, son,” Joe confirmed, then frowned a bit. “Keep your eyes on the ball as you bring your swing around, Connor. Are you ready?”
Squinting in concentration, Connor stopped abruptly and shook his head. “No. I gotta go to the bathroom, Coach.” The bat slid out of his hands and he made a mad dash toward the back door of the house, leaving Joe and Cody laughing.
“Okay, sport, your turn.” Joe turned toward Cody and motioned him toward home plate. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Grinning, Cody loped toward home plate, anxious to have a turn. He picked up the bat and did everything as Joe had instructed them to do.
“Think you’re ready to try to hit the ball?”
“Yep.”
Joe grinned. “Well, then, son, go to it.” Joe backed up a bit, not even certain Cody would be able to connect with the ball, but if he did, Joe needed to be prepared to show the boys not just offense—hitting—but defense—stopping the ball in the infield—as well. And he wanted them to learn the right way from the beginning. It made things easier in the long run. If they could learn to anticipate the ball’s path and angle toward it rather than chase it, they’d be much better ball players.
Cody squinted for a moment, staring hard at the ball, then took one practice hit, before going through the age-old batter’s ritual of squinting to put the outfield in perspective, kicking dirt, then settling the bat comfortably over his shoulder while he set his feet.
Amused, Joe watched the ritual, knowing the young boy was only imitating what he’d no doubt seen on television.
Cody’s first swing met air, whistled through it and nearly knocked the boy off balance with its velocity. The ball stayed on the tee as if mocking him. Cody muttered something under his breath Joe couldn’t hear, but he decided it was time for some positive encouragement.
He didn’t want the boys to get discouraged early on. That had a tendency to make young players feel embarrassed and resentful, and soon, lose their desire to play and, more importantly, to learn and have fun.
“It’s okay, Cody. Even the best miss sometime. Remember, just follow through with your swing and keep your eye on that ball.”
Cody’s eyes narrowed, focused, and before Joe could utter another encouraging word, he heard the crack of the bat as it hit the four-ounce orange ball and sent it airborne.
Joe’s mouth dropped open. He stood in the middle of the outfield, his hand shading his eyes from the sun, and followed the trajectory of the soaring ball with his eyes.
“Ho-ly cow,” he muttered in disbelief, shaking his head as he watched the little orange T-ball finally bounce to the ground, then roll to a stop far behind the small red buckets that indicated first and second base. He turned his
attention back to the young boy, and studied him for a moment, nearly dumbfounded. “Uh…Cody?” he called hesitantly.
“Yeah?” Cody was grinning like a loon.
“Uh…do you have something you want to tell me?” Joe asked.
“Like what?” Cody asked in confusion, wrinkling his nose.
“Uh…have you done this before?”
“Done what?” Cody asked, scrubbing at his freckled nose.
“Played baseball? Batted? Hit a ball?” He didn’t care what they called it, this kid was apparently a natural.
“Nah,” Cody admitted. He slipped his safety helmet off to give his head a good scratch, leaving his strawberry-blond mop standing on end. “Me and Connor, sometimes we fool around throwing a ball, but we never had bats to hit before.”
One eyebrow rose. “Throwing the ball,” Joe said in amusement, walking toward home plate and Cody. He cocked his head, studied the boy. “And are you telling me you can throw a baseball as good as you can hit one?”
Cody had to think about it for a moment. “Nah,” he decided with a shake of his head. “I can’t throw so good, but Connor can.”
Joe’s gaze traveled to the house where Connor was still using the rest room. “Connor can throw good,” he repeated before shifting his gaze back to Cody. “As good as you can hit?”
Cody shrugged. “Nah, better. But he can’t run real fast.”
Joe swallowed, draping an affectionate arm around the boy’s skinny shoulder. “Better?” he repeated hopefully. “Your brother can throw better than you can hit?”
“Yep.” Cody’s head bobbed up and down.
“What did I miss?” Connor called, racing back into the yard while tugging up his pants and swiping his still-damp hands down them.
“I hit the ball.” Cody giggled. “Far. Real, real far.”
Connor’s eyes widened, then gleamed. “Awesome.” He looked up at Joe. “Can I try now?”
“You sure can, son,” Joe said, draping an arm around Connor and drawing him close as well. “And then I think I’m going to see how you two handle the infield. And throwing,” Joe added, a gleam in his eye.
“I told ya, I don’t throw so good,” Cody admitted, shuffling his toe in the dirt. “Connor’s better.” He lifted his head, feeling embarrassed. “Lots better,” he added glumly.
Joe gave him a reassuring squeeze around the shoulders. “That’s okay, Cody. Remember what I said. Not everyone can be good at everything. If you have one thing you are good at, then you practice it, work on it until you’re the best you can be. Does that sound fair?”
Cody shrugged. “Guess so.”
“Well, Cody, from what I’ve seen, you have the makings of a first-class batter—”
“I do?” Eyes glittering in excitement and pleasure, Cody beamed, then began to bounce up and down. “I really do?”
“You sure do.” Joe glanced behind him to where the orange ball had come to a rest. The hit still amazed him and he shook his head. “I don’t reckon I can recall seeing many boys your age hit a ball that far.”
“Really?” Cody bounced harder.
Joe laughed. He was having a ball with these kids. “Really.”
“Can I have a turn now?” Connor asked, glancing up at Joe and squinting behind his glasses.
“Yep, I think it’s your turn,” Joe confirmed, giving each boy an affectionate squeeze. He glanced at Cody, who was still bouncing. “Uh, Cody? Do you have to go to the—”
“Yeah,” he said glumly, making Joe laugh. “I’m going. I’m going.” He turned and trudged mournfully toward the house. And the bathroom. “Be right back,” he called over his shoulder as he bounded up the back stairs and yanked open the door.
Working at the kitchen counter, Mattie squeezed the last lemon into the pitcher of fresh lemonade she was making and glanced out the window just in time to see Joe, with his arm around each of her sons, bend his head and say something to them, something that had both her boys grinning in delight.
Watching them, something inside Mattie’s heart shifted, softened and yearned, a yearning so sharp it was almost painful.
Joe was so good with them, she thought wistfully, feeling the pull of yearning grow stronger. Growing up, he was the kind of man she’d always dreamed of having as a father to her children. Kind. Patient. Understanding. Caring. And more than anything else, willing to give of himself and his time, openly and without reservations to his children.
Joe had been at the house since very early this morning, keeping his promise to spend as much time as possible with Cody and Connor today, and arriving before the boys had even had their breakfasts.
She couldn’t remember a time when her sons had been so excited. Or so happy. For a moment, she leaned on the counter and just watched the three males together, her heart filling unbelievably full. It was clear the lads adored Joe. Simply adored him.
And his affection for them was just as genuine.
The yearning, so much like an ache in her heart, surprised her. She hadn’t thought or yearned for things she didn’t and wouldn’t ever have in a very long time. But right now, watching Joe with her boys, she realized that because of him, that yearning that she’d buried so many years ago, when all of her hopes and dreams for a wonderful husband and family of her own had been so cruelly dashed by Gary’s immature, childish actions and rejection were suddenly flickering to light again.
For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have a husband like Joe. A man like him as father to her beloved boys. Not having any real experience with the scenario, she wasn’t even sure she could imagine it. Perhaps because between the time of her youthful dreams of happily-ever-after and the cruel bite of reality, she’d realized how futile and useless dreams could be.
They prevented you from seeing things as they truly were. Although reality could be harsh and cold at times, there was nothing about it that led to broken dreams or empty promises. She’d merely been seeing things—and her life and the boys—the way it was for so long, that seeing what other possibilities there could be simply never entered the equation.
Perhaps because she knew that seeing other equations, other possibilities meant she’d have to open herself and her heart to someone again. A man. And Mattie was no longer sure she was even capable of doing that.
And even if she could see it as a possibility, it could never be a possibility with Joe. He’d already made it very clear he was not interested in a family or children of his own. And getting emotionally tangled up with another man who’d felt the same way had left her in the position she was in now. She never intended to make the same mistake twice. Not ever.
With a sigh, Mattie shifted her gaze from the window to the fresh pitcher of lemonade. As much as the boys wanted to spend the entire day with Joe, it just wasn’t possible. She had to go to work, and for today, they’d have to go with her.
“Look, boys,” Joe called with a smile when he saw her walk down the back steps carrying a pitcher of fresh lemonade and three glasses. “Reinforcements with refreshments.”
“Hi, Mom!” the boys caroled, dropping their gloves and the bat and barreling toward her. “It’s hot, and we’re thirsty,” Connor said with a grin, racing up to her.
“Well, I’ve got a whole pitcher of fresh lemonade for you.”
Joe took the pitcher and filled the glasses, then handed one each to the boys, carefully helping Cody until he had a solid hold on his, before draining his own glass in one long swallow.
It was ridiculous, Mattie thought, but as she watched Joe tip his head back, and watched the muscles of his throat move as he drank, she felt a punch of pure lust that nearly staggered her.
Must be the heat, she decided, swiping her hand down her jeans. Watching a man drink a glass of lemonade was hardly the stuff to get all hot and bothered about, but she had to admit, everything Joe did seemed sexy. It was beginning to annoy her simply because she’d become so vividly aware of it. And him.
“I have to tell you, Mattie, I�
��m very impressed.” Joe glanced down at the boys with an affectionate smile. “Your sons are naturals.”
Mattie glanced from one sweaty, freckled face to another. Both boys were beaming and their eyes were alight with excitement.
“They are, are they?” she asked, more pleased than she would have believed.
“I hit the ball real far, Ma,” Cody said, taking another gulp of his lemonade. “Real, real far,” he repeated, rolling his eyes for emphasis. “Joe says I got a good arm.”
“You do, do you?” Mattie ruffled his hair, noted it was damp and tangled. Extra-long baths with shampoos tonight, she mused. “Well, I’m very proud of you.”
“And I can throw good,” Connor added with a grin of his own. “Joe said so.”
“I never doubted it for a minute,” Mattie said with a grin of her own, taking Cody’s empty glass from him before he dropped it.
She had to admit, Joe had been right about one thing. She could fairly see the confidence brimming over in the boys from the praise they’d received from Joe this morning. It warmed her heart to know that her kids were feeling good about themselves and their abilities. And she knew it was Joe and his influence that had given them that extra bout of confidence.
“Something wrong, Mattie?” Joe asked quietly. He’d been watching her since she walked out in the yard, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was something shadowing her eyes, looked like something sad to him. He wondered what had caused it.
She managed a smile. “Yes and no, Joe.” She shifted her gaze to her sons, knowing they were probably going to be upset and disappointed by her news, but it couldn’t be helped. Such was the life of a single, working mom.
“I hate to break this up, boys. But Aunt Maureen called from Milwaukee. You know she had to go interview a new potential artist for the gallery and review his work?” She waited for the nods. “Well, Aunt Maureen is tied up in Milwaukee and won’t be able to sit with you while I go to work today.” She smiled to try to soften the blow. “So I’m afraid you’re both going to have to go with me to the gallery today.”
Daddy Patrol Page 11
