Beyond the Bases

“Then my suffering was worth it,” he says dramatically.

“Listen to you,” I say with a laugh. The microwave beeps, and it’s loud. “Sorry, that’s my dinner,” I say.

“What are you having?”

“A frozen microwave pizza.”

“Sounds… delicious?” he asks.

“P loves them. They’re quick and easy. I keep them on hand for those days when cooking just isn’t in the cards. I try to keep her on a balanced diet, so I usually cut up some fruit or open a can of vegetables to go with it.”

“I bet she loves that.” Amusement laces his words.

“The fruit yes, the vegetables not so much. Not unless it’s peas. The kid loves peas, which is odd.”

“That is kind of odd,” he chuckles. “How is she?”

“Paisley? She’s living it up at Mom’s. I called to check on her, and they were baking a cake. I’m going over there to have breakfast with them in the morning before work. I have to work the early shift.”

“I have to be at the stadium at six for team lifting, but then I’m done for the day.”

“Plans?” I ask, a little surprised at how easy it is to chat with him.

“Not really. There’s this girl I met.” My heart picks up speed at his words. “She works at a pretty nice restaurant. I might swing by for lunch.”

“You seem to be putting forth a lot of effort for this girl.”

“She’s worth it.”

That feeling washes over me again. “I guess I should let you go then. You know, since you have to get up so early.”

“Are you going to bed?” he asks.

“Not yet. I’ll probably do a couple of loads of laundry before crashing.”

“Mind if I keep you company?” he asks.

His request should startle me, but it doesn’t. “Easton, it’s late—”

He cuts me off. “Just on the phone, Ris.”

“That’s a pretty long phone conversation.”

“I need to know more about you,” he counters.

“Yeah? Like what?” I’m smiling so big my face might crack. He’s persistent, and I find it harder and harder to keep pushing him away. He’s so easy to talk to and to be around. Today was a true testament of that.

“Like your favorite flavor of ice cream… how old were you when you had your first kiss, among other things,” he says, his voice low and husky.

“Are we there yet?” I tease, awareness traveling through me.

“I am. I don’t know if you are, but I sure as hell am.”

I don’t hold back my grin. “You go first,” I say. That’s how our night goes. Over the next two hours, we talk about movies, and music, and food. Nothing too heavy, just small mundane things getting to know each other. I’ve managed to wash, dry, and fold two loads of laundry, and now I’m ready to crash. “It’s almost one in the morning. We both have to get up early. You earlier than me.”

“I know.”

“We should probably get some sleep.”

“Thank you for today, and for tonight.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

He laughs. “I mean, I am Easton Monroe.”

“Hush. Get some sleep, slugger,” I say.

“Night, Ris. Sweet dreams.”

Night.” I end the call, plug my phone that is almost dead into the charger, and crawl under the covers. As I drift off to sleep, it’s his smile that I see, and his touch that I feel as if he were here with me.

Sweet dreams indeed.I’ve been driving myself crazy all morning trying to think of something fun I can do with Larissa and Paisley. I want to make a good impression, and everything I come up with seems lame. Grabbing my phone to call Mom and ask her opinion—desperate times and all that—I notice I have an e-mail from the Blaze management. Scrolling through, I see it’s a reminder that the Blaze family day is at the zoo this Saturday. If I’m interested in attending, I need to give them the number of attendees so they can prepare my passes.

Someone is watching over me.

Quickly, I reply that I need three tickets, two adults and one child. I had forgotten all about the event and wasn’t even sure I was going to go. A single guy at the zoo isn’t much fun. A single guy, the girl he wants to get to know, and her adorable daughter… that sounds a hell of a lot more appealing. Instead of calling Mom, I call Larissa.

“Hello,” she answers, and her voice is gruff from sleep. Looking at the clock, I see it’s just after eight in the morning.

“Did I wake you?” I ask, trying not to think about her all snuggled up in her bed.

“I was just lying here. P woke me up about ten minutes ago.”

“She’s an early riser?”

“Pretty much.”

“Who is it, Momma?” I hear her sweet, angelic voice ask.

She hesitates. “It’s Easton.”

“I wanna say hi.” There is a rustle with the phone. Then I hear, “Hey, East, whatcha doing?”