* * *
TUCKING THE SARAN WRAP INTO the drawer beside the stove, Brynn said, “This day—and night—turned out different than I’d planned.”
“It was a really great party. Dom fell asleep before I could get his shoes off.”
Well past midnight, Cayden and Dominic had crashed on the living-room sleeper sofa. Vivian and Sean helped put any food that might spoil in the fridge. The rest, Brynn told them she’d tackle in the morning.
“Thanks again for your help.” Brynn crushed her friend in a hug. Vivian had her catty moments, but all the work she’d done helping Brynn with Cayden’s special day more than made up for her most recent nasty remarks.
“My pleasure.” Vivian politely covered her yawn, then took her purse from the counter. “You know who else seemed to have an especially good time once the zydeco started playing?”
“Who?” Sean asked. Up to this point, he’d done as little work as possible, doing his part by finishing off the remains of mostly eaten bowls and platters. Now he’d moved on to bags of chips.
“Not that I was talking to you,” Vivian said, “but since you’re nosing into our business, I mean Tristan.”
“I’m sitting right here.” Sean waved his latest bag of Doritos. “How is it not my business?”
Back to her usual self, Vivian rolled her eyes. “Because I’m talking to Brynn. Last thing I want is for you and your gossipy friends to start discussing our business. When you overheard me and—”
“Okay, whoa...” Brynn held up her hands. “Last thing I want is to get in the middle of a family squabble.”
“You’re not,” Vivian assured. “I just thought it notable that Tristan not only danced with you, but honest-to-goodness laughed. You two have something going on I don’t know about?”
“Of course not.” Brynn grabbed the dishrag and gave the counter a good wipe. “We’re barely even friends.”
“But he built Cayden’s fort?”
Brynn nodded.
“He also mowed your lawn. And let’s not forget that daring swamp rescue.”
“Gotta admit,” Sean said between bites, “that had to be pretty exciting, Brynn. You and Cayden getting saved by a SEAL? I was a couple years behind Tristan and his crew in high school, but they seemed like good guys.”
Brynn put away air-dried pots and pans. “For the record, Jason found Cayden. And anyway, I’m sure we’d have eventually stumbled our way out.”
Sean shook his head. “Been a lot of folks vanish in that swamp over the years.”
“Oh, stop.” Vivian swatted him with a towel. “All I’m saying is it’s fairly obvious you two share chemistry. What would it hurt for you to, say...explore?”
“What would it hurt?” Brynn pointed at her bulging belly and laughed. What she didn’t do was confess she’d not only felt that chemistry, but used every trick in her womanly arsenal to fight it.
* * *
SUNDAY AFTERNOON, TRISTAN struggled with his decision to help Cayden with his hitting not so much because the kid reminded him of Jack, but because of a whole new batch of troubles revolving around Cayden’s mom.
While the boy gathered the dozen brightly painted balls that’d scattered over the field, Tristan couldn’t stop himself from stealing a quick glance into the stands. Pretty as you please, there sat Brynn, holding an umbrella to shade her from the sun in one hand and a fan in her other. She’d crammed her mess of red curls into a ponytail and strays popped out at all angles. Hell, she looked like a ginger-toned, half-blown dandelion. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine her in the role of a pro-ballplayer’s polished wife. But then by her own admission, things for her and Cayden had changed an awful lot since then.
“Mom!” Cayden shouted after tossing a ball farther than he ever had. “Did you see that?”
“Yes, sir, I did! You’re getting better already!”
Glowing from his mother’s praise, Cayden’s grin stretched ear to ear. Which, in turn, made Brynn smile. Lord, she was pretty when she smiled. Saturday night, once Cayden’s party had morphed into more of a grown-up affair, she’d closed her eyes, smiling while swaying to zydeco. Sweat flushed her freckled cheeks and chest and damn if Tristan could recall having ever seen a sexier pregnant woman.
“Got ’em all, Coach Tristan!”
Brynn’s son’s voice jolted Tristan to the present. With the balls back at his feet, he said, “Great. Now we’re gonna do it all over again. Remember, you can’t even swing at the ball unless it’s the color I call out.”
“But that’s too hard. Why can’t we just hit the regular way?”
“Because this is going to help your mind slow down enough to really see the ball. Right now, we just want you to hit most anything an opposing team’s pitcher throws. But eventually, you’re going to have to recognize fastballs and curveballs and all kinds of other pitches you haven’t yet seen.”
“Oh.” A steeled mask of determination Tristan swore he’d once seen on Mack’s face settled over the boy’s features. Maybe he had some of his dad’s playing skill in him after all?
In the stands, Brynn had leaned forward as far as her baby bump allowed. She’d abandoned her umbrella and fan to cross her fingers. Her hopeful expression was all the motivation Tristan needed to continue working with her son for as long as it took to make the game sink in. Only Tristan’s goal wasn’t so much about Cayden one day playing in the majors, but selfishly making Brynn smile again.
* * *
“WELL, HELLO. YOU MUST be Cayden’s mother, Brynn.”
From her seat in the empty stands, Brynn looked up to see a middle-aged woman with short salt-and-pepper hair and Tristan’s grin carrying an insulated jug and red Solo cups.
“I’m Donna. Tristan’s mom. I figured the boys would be thirsty out in this sun.” She wagged the jug and ice shifted inside.
“I know I am,” Brynn said with a laugh. “Nice to meet you and great idea.”
Donna waved off the compliment. “When you’ve been a Little League mom for as many years as I have, you learn a few tricks along the way.”
Out on the field, Tristan called to Cayden, “What’s going on with your grip? Remember how we talked about lining up your knuckles for a box grip?”
Biting his lower lip, Cayden nodded and realigned his hands.
“Good,” Tristan said. “Holding the bat with your palms can give you a pretty nasty bruise—no fun.”
“He’s awfully good with kids,” Brynn said to Donna. “Earlier, when the whole team was here, he never lost his patience.”
“He probably learned from his father.” Donna poured Brynn a lemonade. “When Tristan’s dad died—my Jim—it took a lot out of him. Tristan’s son, Jack, was a newborn at the time and Tristan poured all his grief into living for his son. Every time he shipped out on a mission, I know Tristan worried himself sick over keeping himself safe. Last thing he wanted was to leave his boy. So when his ex carted Jack off to California...” Donna’s expression darkened. “Let’s just say it’s been hard on us both.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened? Tristan’s not exactly chatty about his past.”
“No...” After wiping sudden tears, his mother said, “Three years ago, he came home from six months in Afghanistan to find his house empty. Andrea and Jack gone. It was like a movie scene. So cruel. She hadn’t moved far, though, so I think in Tristan’s mind, as long as he got to see Jack as often as he liked, nothing much had changed. But then about a month ago, the man Andrea had been seeing accepted a job in L.A. He proposed and fast as a twister, swept Jack from Tristan’s life. The shock of it led to him making near-critical mistakes on his last mission. His commander sent him home—said in his current frame of mind he was unfit for duty. Tristan was devastated. Scares me to death when I think how much worse this all could’ve turned out
if he’d been hurt—or any of his friends.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, then forced a smile. “Anyway...helping your Cayden is good for my son, and I appreciate you letting Tristan into your boy’s life.”
“I’m the one who’s thankful.” Brynn’s throat tightened upon seeing Tristan’s mother again grow teary. To mask her own feelings after hearing Tristan’s heartbreaking story, Brynn sipped the refreshingly sweet drink. Poor guy. No wonder he hadn’t felt like talking about what he’d been through. She wished there was something she could do to ease his pain, but as she’d learned all too well, when it came to a failed marriage, there wasn’t much anyone could do. “Learning this game means the world to Cayden.”
Donna beamed. “Then it looks like both of our sons stand to win.”
When Tristan caught sight of his mom, he waved, which was all the signal Donna needed to head out onto the field.
Brynn initially thought to follow, but held back.
Saturday night, after sleepy kids had been put to bed, Cayden’s party had taken a new turn. Sean and a few of the other team dads had made a quick run to the store. The birthday transformed into a barbecue with plenty of beer, steaks, blackened chicken and a huge pot simmering with potatoes, crawfish, spices and corn on the cob.
Though Brynn obviously hadn’t imbibed, plenty of others had—not to the point of drunkenness, but just enough to loosen the mood. After dinner, dancing followed and whew, Tristan knew a few sexy moves. Though he never even touched her, he’d somehow generated a staggering amount of physical heat—not a good thing considering her condition and her vow to never again need a man.
She looked up from the stands to catch him staring.
His grin launched fireworks in her midsection.
Okay, so while she would never need a man, what were the rules about wanting one?
Chapter Six
“How was Cayden’s first lesson with Tristan?”
“Good.” Monday afternoon, Brynn sat with Vivian in Bremwall’s Sporting Goods, waiting for the boys to be fitted for their Mud Bug uniforms. Thankfully, Assistant Coach Tristan was not in attendance.
“Just good?”
Brynn shifted on the too-small chair. “I wasn’t expecting that after one visit with Tristan, Cayden would be called to the majors.”
“I wasn’t talking about your son’s hitting, but how you feel with his coach. After seeing you two dance Saturday night, I didn’t want to let on too much in front of Sean, but I swear I detected sparks.”
Sighing, Brynn tried for a count of ten to regain patience with Vivian, but she only made it to three. “For the last time, Tristan and I are friends—nothing more. He’s a great guy for helping my son. End of story.”
Vivian rolled her eyes.
Once Cayden was finally measured and Brynn had written a hefty check, covering everything from custom T-shirts, socks, shoes, game uniform, batting helmet and three hats, she made a note to check her bank balance to see if they had enough cash left for groceries.
As soon as she had her baby girl, as much as Brynn would hate leaving her, she had no choice but to find a job. The marketing degree she’d once been so proud to have earned seemed a bit silly in Ruin Bayou—not that she’d ever used it in St. Louis. Being Mack’s wife had been a full-time position.
“You going to be at tonight’s practice?” Vivian asked. She was next in line to pay. “If you are, I’ll bring my baby name books for us to flip through.”
“Sounds good.”
Outside, Cayden said, “Can you believe how much stuff I get, Mom? Isn’t this, like, the most exciting thing ever?”
“Sure is...” Squelching the knot of financial worry in her throat, Brynn dug through her purse for the car keys, but was unsuccessful. Figuring she must’ve left them on the counter when she paid, she’d just turned to go back into the store when she almost collided with Tristan.
“Whoa!” He laughed. “This place ought to put up caution signs to protect folks from charging pregnant ladies.”
“Ha-ha.”
He and Cayden high-fived.
“Coach Tristan, I’m gonna get brand-new everything! And lots of it is even gonna have my name on it, just like Dad’s used to have.”
“That’s cool, bud. Glad you’re excited. I’m here to get my uniform, too. Coach Jason said if I didn’t come today, I’d be in big trouble.”
“Wow...” Cayden widened his eyes. “He said that to me, too. That must mean we’re important.”
“Guess so.” Glancing to Brynn, Tristan asked, “How are you? Got everything back in shape after Saturday night?”
“Finally.” Had his shoulders always been so broad or his teeth so white? “Returned the last of the borrowed lawn chairs to neighbors this morning.”
“You shouldn’t be lifting. I’d have been happy to help.”
“Thanks, but it wasn’t a big deal.” Dancing with you, however...
When she caught his gaze, he held it until her breathing slowed. Until the other parents and kids leaving the store vanished and the two of them stood on their own island. Until she couldn’t remember what had even brought her to the store. And then she was looking away, licking her lips, wondering, wondering what had just happened?
“Looking for these?” Vivian had somehow ended up beside her, jingling Brynn’s lost keys.
“Ah, thanks.” It took Brynn a moment to recover from whatever hadn’t happened between Tristan and her. “I was just headed back inside to look for them.”
“But instead,” Vivian said with an exaggerated wink, “you found this big lug.” Turning to Tristan, she asked, “Doesn’t Brynn look pretty today? I love her upswept hair. And what do you call this style of dress?” Brynn’s supposed friend tugged the vibrant yellow fabric of the oversize muumuu Brynn had bought on a Los Cabos vacation with Mack. At the time, she’d been six months pregnant with Cayden and had felt pretty with the handcrafted yarn embroidery at the neck and short sleeves. Now, the dress was a little snug. The color too bright for a small town like Ruin Bayou. “You look like you could step right into a fiesta. In fact, if you two want to try out the new Mexican place down by the river, Dom and I would be happy to take Cayden home with us. Sound fun, guys?”
“Yeah!” With both boys high-fiving, Brynn didn’t have the heart to say no. On the flip side, there was no way she’d spend an evening alone with Tristan in what she’d heard was a romantic setting.
“That sounds like a great plan,” Tristan said, hedging closer to the door, “but I was due inside ten minutes ago. Brynn, maybe another time?”
“Sure.” Brynn’s mood sagged. Even though she genuinely hadn’t wanted to go, what woman enjoyed being dumped before even being asked on a date?
As abruptly as Tristan had appeared, he was gone, leaving Brynn on her own to deal with Vivian’s scowl. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Me?” Hands to her chest, Brynn asked, “Who was the one trying to sell me like I was a big, pregnant piñata up for auction?”
“Mom?” Dominic fished through Vivian’s purse. “Where are the keys? Me and Cayden wanna watch a movie in the car.”
“Cayden—” Brynn tugged her son closer by the back of his shirt “—come on with me. You can go to Dom’s another night.”
“But, Mom...” he whined. “Please.”
“Sorry for being a buttinski matchmaker,” Vivian said, “but don’t punish the boys for my mistake. Let Cayden come over and you take the time to relax. I’ll bring him home later. You won’t have to do a thing, other than put your feet up.”
The offer did hold appeal. “All right, but really, Viv, promise you’ll never do anything like that again and drop this romance you’ve spun between Tristan and me. It’s not going to happen.”
“Scout’s honor.” After holding up three fingers in an awkward sa
lute, Vivian pulled Brynn into a hug. “You just go on home and have a nice night. Forget any of this even happened.”
* * *
EASIER SAID THAN DONE.
Especially when Brynn was jolted from a lovely catnap by a knock on the front door. Even worse, when she parted the curtains she found Tristan bearing flowers she was fairly certain had come from Georgia Booth’s side yard.
“Hey,” he said with a sleepy grin that somersaulted her already sketchy tummy. “Brought you these. My feeble attempt at apologizing for Vivian’s crazy matchmaking.”
She accepted his purple rhododendrons. “Thanks, but it wasn’t your fault.” Eyeing the pretty bouquet, she had to ask, “You didn’t steal these from my neighbor, did you?”
“No,” he said with great offense. “And hand deliver that crazy woman more reason to dislike me? Give me some credit. They’re from my own mom’s yard—with her blessing.”
Brynn’s face overheated. “You told Donna about that awkward exchange at the store?”
“Just in passing.” When Brynn stood back from the door, he brushed past, flooding her with scents of sun, sweat and leather from the sporting goods store. Any normal time in her life, this would’ve been no big deal, but superpregnant with raging hormones to match left her in constant flux when it came to her feelings regarding the man. “Have a seat. I want to get these in water.”
“Sure.”
Time away from him—however brief—would be welcome. He’d already done enough to distract her. Distract her from what, she couldn’t say. The mere act of being around him had her addled mind waffling in a danger zone between attraction and irritation. After all she’d been through, her body hadn’t gotten the memo that romance was permanently out of her picture.
Foiling her plan for escape, he trailed after her. “Looked like Cayden was pretty psyched about getting his uniform.”
“Oh, he was. But when it came time to pay the bill, I nearly had this baby on the spot.”
The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) Page 6