The Last Strike by A.R. Henry
Chapter 15
Once we get back into town Weston drives us to a local Mom and Pop restaurant that looks like the last time it was updated was in the seventies. The waitress, who reminds me of my aunt Dolly—an older woman probably in her late fifties with greying hair that resembles her namesake—seats us at a booth in the back. Almost as soon as we’ve slid into our seats a young woman named Rose comes by and gets our drink orders.
“Have you ever been here?” Weston asks from across the table. I look up from the menu to see him staring back at me with his hands clasped on top of the menu. He must come here often if he doesn’t even need to look.
“No, I can’t say that I have. You?”
“Yeah, this is one of the first places I started coming to when I moved back here. Cash, the assistant coach you met the other day, and some of the other guys brought me here for lunch one day. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten something that tasted almost as good as my momma's cooking.”
When I tell you I swooned when he said “momma.” There’s nothing hotter than hearing a man with a southern drawl have a soft spot for his mother.
I clear my throat, attempting to clear my dirty mind. “So, you said ‘moved back,’ you’re from here then?”
“Yes ma’am, born and raised,” and damn if that smile and his manners don’t make my insides flutter again. “My parents still live in the same house we grew up in. They live on the South side, on the lake. My brother and sister both live downtown.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had siblings. Are they older or younger?”
“They’re both older. I’m the baby, and they sure as hell don’t let me forget it.”
I laugh, “Hey, babies are the most important members of the family.”
We high five across the table because duh, and the waitress comes back and takes our order.
Feeling drained from the hike, I pig out and order half the menu. I look at Weston to order next, but the waitress doesn’t wait for him to speak before writing something down.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about coming here a lot,” I joke after she walks away with our menus.
He smiles shyly, almost like he’s embarrassed, and shifts his silverware across the table. Well, shoot. I think I made him uncomfortable.
“I think you might be worried that I’m stalking you if the food is really as good as you say. I’ll probably start coming here too. Maybe since you’re famous they’ll keep our booth open for us all the time.” I wink at him trying very awkwardly to make him feel better.
I don’t think I’ve ever playfully winked a day in my damn life, but lucky for me it seemed to have worked because he stops fidgeting.
“Our booth, huh?” He flashes his megawatt smile at me again. “Also, I’m not famous.”
I snort like a freaking pig, and don’t touch the first part of what he said. That little comment was all a part of my word vomit rambling, and I definitely didn’t intend for it to get out. “You? Not famous? That’s a joke. I think everyone in this part of the state knows who you are. Well, except me at first. I had no idea who you were.”
I cringe a little at bringing up how we met and keep talking so we don’t have to rehash that night, “I bet you everyone in this diner is talking about you right now. Hell, the waitress didn’t even ask for your order. That right there is automatic celebrity status.”
“She probably just remembers my order from the dozens of times I’ve been in here.”
“Yeah, okay. Mr. Hall-of-Fame-Baseball.” Immediately my face heats up after blurting that out. Shit. Now he’s going to know I looked him up.
He raises a brow, and a slow smirk comes across that gorgeous face of his. “Hall-of-Fame, huh? So, your stalking tendencies are really getting out of hand then?”
I palm my face and groan. I don’t even try to play it off like Ash told me about that. “Okay, so I might, might, have looked you up,” I say pointing a finger in his direction. “Once. I like to know things about my students’ parents. It was purely for a research purpose.”
He’s full on smiling at me now, and almost laughing as he says, “It’s alright. I think it’s cute you wanted to look at me.” He winks like he knows exactly how he’s just worded that.
Is it hot in here?
Then, “But next time you wanna know something you can just ask me, alright?”
“My stalking tendencies where you are concerned are long gone, thank you very much. I do have a question though.”
“Shoot.”
If I had a mirror right now, I would know exactly what my reflection would show; a mischievous grin that only means trouble.
“Why didn’t you ever do The Athlete Issue of Sports Magazine? You know the one where you pose naked?”
He pauses for a second, his water glass suspended in air and halfway to his mouth. If I had asked the question a few seconds later my face would definitely be covered in his spit. Finally, he stutters for a second before he recovers and hisses, “What the hell Courtney! You can’t just ask that shit!”
I’m already bent over the table, holding onto my stomach. It hurts from holding in my laughter, and I can’t take it anymore. I take big breaths, cackling so hard I'm sure there are people staring at us. When I look back up at Weston, he’s red in the face, and I’m not sure if it's in anger, embarrassment, or if he’s trying to hold back his laughter, too. It’s probably a combination, if I’ve gotten to know him like I think I have.
After a few minutes I sit back up and use my fingers to wipe the tears from my eyes. Weston is looking at me with amusement and endearment in his eyes. It’s such a look of affection that my heart starts to beat faster and my whole-body warms. I want him to look at me like that every day for the rest of my life.
The rest of my life? Holy shit when did that happen?
“I can’t believe you just asked me that,” he says, shaking his head with that look that I’m starting to love still on his face.
“You said I could ask you anything!” I point a finger accusingly, laughter still in my voice.
“Jesus, Court. I thought you were gonna ask about my childhood or some shit. Maybe about how I got with Amber. Not why I didn’t pose naked for a freaking magazine. I should have known better though. When it comes to you, I can’t even seem to guess what’s going to come out of that sweet little mouth of yours,” he pauses. Then, “But don’t worry, I’m a quick learner. I’ll get there.”
My laughter has completely stopped now because damn, was that hot. I love it when he talks to me like that.
“I would like to know though. I mean, they definitely had to have contacted you, right? Just look at you. I bet they would have sold millions of copies because of that booty.”
He reaches behind his head to scratch his neck, and I can tell this makes him uncomfortable but a girl’s got questions. I’m not letting him off that easy.
“Yeah, they did contact me—” I freaking knew it! “—but I said no. It was around the time Amber and I were going through the divorce. Even though we weren’t together it still didn’t seem right to put myself out there like that. It wouldn’t have been very respectful to her for her husband to be naked for the world to see. I couldn’t do that to her even though she told me that she was fine if I wanted to go through with it. I just thought about what if the situations were reversed? How would I feel if my wife posed naked and millions of guys were looking at her? It made me mad.”
As he said the next words to me, he held me in place with his gaze. Telling me in such a way I knew he was speaking directly to my heart.
“When I have a girl, she’s mine. Every part of her belongs to me. I’ll fight for her, protect her, worship her. Every part of me will belong to her too. I don’t share, and what we have will be for us not for the world to see. If I don’t want anyone to look at her then she won’t have to worry about anyone looking at me.”
And I knew. Right freaking there. He was telling me that to say I didn’t have to worry about him straying like my asshole of an ex.
I’m going to marry this man one day.
I blow out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
“Wow,” comes out in a whisper and I’m not even sure if he heard it.
He reaches across the table and takes my hands in his, “I’m serious my little Cherry Bomb. No one else.”
He didn’t need to explain further. I got it. Just him and me. No one else.