I was honestly not surprised to find that Josh wasn’t playing catcher. They’d stuck him in the outfield. A part of me was relieved Dallas and Trip had done that. Hopefully it would teach him a lesson since me yelling at him almost daily did nothing to make him rush. The Tornados barely scraped by with a win.
With an hour break between games, Louie and I waited on the bleachers for Josh, partially watching the other game going on in the field next to the one the boys had just played on. There were eight teams in this tournament from what I could remember. I wasn’t paying attention until Josh was standing in front of me, shivering and asking for a dollar.
I blinked at him. “Where’s your jacket?”
He had the nerve to look sheepish. “I left it at home. Can I have a dollar for hot chocolate?” Silence. “Please.”
“You forgot your jacket even though I told you twice to get it?” I asked, looking at him while I stuck one hand in my bag for the pocket I kept all my small bills from tips at.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t bring your long-sleeved undershirt I bought you for cold weather either?”
I was pretty sure Louie, who was leg to leg beside me, let out a “heh” as he tried to make it seem like he was paying more attention to the show he was watching on his tablet than our conversation, but I let it go.
“I’m sorry,” Josh whisper-hissed. He shivered again. “Can I have a dollar, please?”
Why did this always happen to me and why wasn’t I prepared enough to leave two jackets in my car for occasions like this?
A small part of me wanted to cry as I began pulling one arm out of my sleeve and then the other, eyeing Josh the whole time. The good thing was, I’d put on a sweater beneath my black fleece jacket that was a size too large—a present courtesy of my mom.
Josh rolled his eyes. “I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”
“Until you get pneumonia.” I handed the fleece zip-up to him in one hand and two one-dollar bills in the other. “Wear it. If one of us is going to get sick, it’s going to be me. Stop looking at me like that. It isn’t pink and it doesn’t look like a girl jacket. Nobody will know it’s mine.”
He huffed as he took the jacket from me first, casting a look around to make sure no one was watching him, and then put it on faster than I’d ever seen him put on anything in his life.
“Take your brother with you and get him a hot chocolate too.”
To give him credit, he only frowned a little before he nodded. “You want one?”
I shook my head. “I’m good.”
He shrugged, pulling the zipper up. “Butt face, come on.”
The nosey child at my side was ready and pushed his backpack toward me before jumping off the bleacher and following Josh. The boys had barely turned their backs to me when I finally let myself shiver and crossed my arms over my chest, like that would help. Fuck, it was cold.
“It’s chilly, huh?”
Shifting in my spot, I watched as the divorced dad, who sometimes sat by me and always mentioned that he wasn’t seeing anyone, took a step down from the bench he was on to the one below it, the first one. The same one as me. If that wasn’t bad enough, he sat one body length distance away, his jacket zipped up, hands stuffed into the pockets.
I smiled at him, trying to be polite. “Very.”
“I might have a blanket in my car…,” he offered.
“You forgot your jacket?” an extremely familiar voice asked from my left. I knew it was Dallas without needing proof, but I still swiveled to take him in, shivering again.
In a worn leather jacket that looked like it had some kind of shearling on the inside, he had his usual Tornado collared shirt on and at the V-shape there, he had something white beneath it. But it wasn’t what was on his body that captivated me. “I did have a jacket. Someone else is wearing it now,” I told him, eyeing the green knit cap that was molded to his head.
The scowl on his face disappeared instantly.
“Do you want me to check and see if I have that blanket?” the dad asked, reminding me where he was.
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” I told him even though, if he’d been just about anyone else, I would have taken it. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea after I’d spent so much time keeping things casual between us.
Dallas was standing in front of me by the time I finished talking, so tall I had to tip my head back as I wondered why he was standing so close.
Before I could ask, or figure it out, he pulled one arm behind his back and peeled a sleeve off and then followed that up by drawing his arm out of the second sleeve. In the time it took me to ask myself why he was taking his jacket off, he crouched in front of me and drew one of my arms away from my chest, then slid my hand into the sleeve he’d just vacated, all while I watched him like a total idiot.
He was putting his jacket on me.
My mouth had to be slightly gaped as he slipped my arm fully into the warm cocoon, drew the leather around my back, and then, his face and chest inches from mine, those hazel eyes catching my brown ones and keeping them there, he pulled my other wrist away from me and guided it into the other sleeve.
In a rare moment of my life, I didn’t know what to say.
I definitely had no idea what the hell to say when his fingers went to the bottom of the jacket resting on top of my thighs and engaged the zipper, pulling the tab up straight between the valley between my breasts, up until it notched right below where my throat started.