Timber Creek (Sierra Falls 2)

They scanned the field at the same time, finding the youngest Bailey sister. She’d just bought Helen’s kids snow cones, and they were already covered in sugary streaks of electric blue.

He bit back a smile, knowing he had her. “Cool,” he said with a straight face. “You’re right. We’ll have Sorrow play instead, and you can watch Helen’s brood. ”

Her flat look told him he had her. “You wouldn’t. ”

“Tell you what,” he said seriously. “You play, then tomorrow you come by the job site, and we’ll discuss this problem of yours. ”

“Problem of mine? If Sierra Falls is destroyed by some international corporation, it’ll be more than just my problem. ”

“Is it really that bad?” He shrugged. “You taking my offer or what?”

When she didn’t answer, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, watching the other players warm up, making like he didn’t care. He let Laura have her tense few moments of silence.

“Fine,” she said finally. She stood, but instead of edging by him, she made her way down the center of the bleachers. “I’ll play,” she called over her shoulder, “but you’ll pay. ”

And pay he did, but not in the way she imagined.

Playing with Laura would be the death of him.

And he wasn’t the only person who’d noticed her in her sassy little short-shorts. After the third inning, he caught up to Jack as they walked from the outfield. Snagging the collar of his brother’s shirt, he said, “Need I remind you, you’re a married man?”

Jack flinched away. “Easy, little brother. I’m married, not blind. Your woman’s something else to look at. ”

Eddie grinned—he liked the sound of his woman. He wished. It wasn’t like she was consciously putting on a show or anything, but she was so cute out there, so into the game, jumping up and down as she cheered. He kept catching glimpses of pale belly as she reached her arms up to stretch, her face lit by the sort of smiles he longed to tease from her himself. It was killing him.

And then, after he’d gotten a base hit, he’d caught her staring at him. She’d glanced away quickly, but it’d been enough to tell him that she was as curious about him as he was about her.

It was enough to drive a man to distraction.

To complicate matters was the fact that Eddie was a competitive guy, and their new sheriff, Billy Preston, was turning out to be a surprisingly good athlete. Eddie was determined to be the best man on the field, but it was hard to keep his mind in the game when his eyes kept drifting to Laura.

Paley Pines was at bat, and he forced himself to pay attention. Billy was manning second, and he’d just turned a double play. One more out was all they needed, and Eddie was determined it’d be his out.

He was playing shortstop, and they’d parked Laura in left field—the Paley players weren’t exactly sluggers, and the outfield seemed a safe enough spot for

someone who wasn’t dying for action—but that meant he couldn’t watch her. He’d turned once to steal a glimpse, and she’d looked bored out of her mind. She caught him looking immediately, and he swung his head back around, forcing himself to keep his gaze pinned straight ahead.

Was she bored out there? Would she occupy her time by watching him? They sure did seem to catch each other looking a lot. Not that it was anything new—they’d been catching each other looking since puberty. Remembering it now, he wondered how much of his adolescent acting-out had actually been to get Laura’s attention. He readjusted his ball cap, forcing himself not to think about it.

The sharp crack of bat on ball shocked him back into the moment. A hit. He shaded his eyes, jogging backward. It was a pop fly…headed right for Laura. Her expression of sheer terror told him she wasn’t pleased about the development.

Eddie spun and hauled ass into left field.

Laura was backing up, her wide, panicked eyes glued on the ball coming straight for her. She put up her hands, looking like she wanted to duck but was too proud. “Can you—?”

“Heads up. ” He flung himself toward her, his body slamming into the dirt, and grinned to feel the satisfyingly sharp slap of the ball in his mitt. He rolled to his feet, certain he’d finally be greeted by her smile. And with the ridiculously athletic maneuver he’d just pulled, he hoped it might even be a fawning and appreciative one.

But when their eyes met, she was colder than ever. “Thanks,” was all she said, and then she strode past him back to the bleachers.

How was it possible she’d gotten even angrier in the past thirty minutes? He hadn’t done anything.

He pulled off his cap, raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, then settled the cap firmly back on his head. Softball wasn’t the only game he refused to lose. He jogged to catch up to her. “Why so angry, pretty lady?”

“You know why. ” She took off her mitt and tucked it firmly into her crossed arms as though it might act as a shield.

He saw it as an invitation to goad her. “You mad I caught the ball?”

“I didn’t know men like you had balls. ”