Beyond the Bases (Out of Reach 1)

She takes the glove and turns it over in her hands. “You remembered.” She looks up at me, and her smile is blinding.

“Of course I did. Princess P wanted a pink glove, but they didn’t have one in her size.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Just listen.” Setting the bag aside, I reach for her hand, holding it in mine. I softly trace her knuckles with my thumb and wait for her to look at me. When she does, I let the words tumble free. “I like you, Larissa. I’m not playing games. I know you’re a single mom and that Paisley is, as she should be, the most important person in your world. I just want the chance to be a part of that world. To spend time with you, and her. To get to know you and see if this electricity I feel every time I’m with you is what I imagine it to be.”

She closes her eyes and nods. I don’t say anything else, giving her time to process what I’m saying. When her eyes open, they say so much. She wants to trust me, but she’s guarded. I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll earn that trust from her. From both of them. I can feel her fear, her reluctance pouring off her. Is it that she’s still mourning the loss of her husband? Is it the fact that my life is in the spotlight? Maybe she’s fearful of losing yet another important person in her life? Whatever those fears may be, I want to demolish them. I want her to smile like she was just moments ago. I want her laughter. I want to watch her be the incredible mother I already know she is. Whatever she’s hiding behind those walls, I want to be the man to knock them down.

“What else is in the bag?” she asks after clearing her throat.

Not letting go of her hand, I reach again for the bag with my other. I pull out two more gloves and a couple of balls. “We couldn’t give her the pink glove she’s always wanted and not use it.” I wink.

“You thought of everything.” She smiles. It’s softer than those I received earlier, but I’ll take it. Never would I turn down one of her beautiful smiles.

“Maybe I always wanted to be a boy scout,” I say, and her smile grows. “Let’s eat.” I remove the fresh fruit, pretzels, and sandwiches from the picnic basket. “We have turkey clubs, a plain turkey, and a plain cheese. I wasn’t sure what Paisley would eat, but I know she loves her cheese.”

“That she does. That was very thoughtful of you, Easton. Thank you for going out of your way, just on the idea that she might be with us today.”

“So how did I do?” I ask. “Cheese or plain turkey for the princess?”

“She would have either, but she would have chosen the cheese.”

“Yes.” I throw my hands up in the air celebrating my victory. “What about you?”

“Turkey club is perfect.”

“That’s two for two,” I say, holding up two fingers.

“Gloating, Mr. Monroe?”

“Celebrating. There’s a difference.”

“Uh-huh,” she laughs.

We spend a couple of hours lying on the blankets talking. She tells me stories about Paisley, and I tell her stories about growing up as an older brother. Sometimes we just sit in silence, hands linked, staring up at the sky. It’s simple, yet perfect. This is one of the best days I can ever remember having.

“I know it’s getting close to five, but I’m not ready for today to end.”

“It’s been a good day,” she agrees.

“How about dinner?”

“I really should be getting home. I have a ton of assignments I need to get caught up on, and with P being at Mom’s, it’s a great time to do it.”

I’m disappointed, but I understand. She has no time for herself; it’s all work, school, and her daughter. I’m in awe of her. “Let’s get packed up and get you back to your car.” We make quick work of packing up, and we’re on our way in no time.

“Thank you, Easton,” she says once I pull my truck up next to her SUV. “I didn’t know what to expect today, but this… thank you.”

“We should have day dates more often.” I smile over at her.

“Yeah, maybe we should.” With that, she climbs out of the truck. I hurry to do the same and walk with her to the driver’s side of her SUV.

“Can I call you later?” I ask.

“We just spent the majority of the day together.”

“And it’s still not enough,” I say, stepping in closer.