“Watch him strike out,” someone else said, laughing.

  Brenna was a passable pitcher for a pick-up game of softball and she’d been doing really well. But she was so focused on getting the softball into the glove of the catcher, that it wasn’t anything fancy.

  I didn’t swing at the first pitch. I could’ve, but it was a little lower than I would’ve liked.

  “Strike one!” Charlie’s dad Casper yelled behind me. Then he lowered his voice. “You gotta swing it, kid.”

  “You won’t have to catch this one,” I murmured back.

  After I’d hit the softball so far into left field that all the kids had to go searching for it, I took a second to grin at Charlie.

  “Run, jackass,” she yelled, laughing as she waved her arm at me, motioning for me to go.

  I jogged around the bases, watching the field while the little kids argued about where the ball had gone and Draco ran out to help them find it.

  “You didn’t tell me you played baseball,” Charlie accused as I reached her.

  “You didn’t ask,” I said, touching the base deliberately with my foot. I laughed as she slapped my ass to get me moving again.

  “We’ve got a motherfuckin’ ringer,” Tommy shouted as I came off the field.

  “Yeah,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “And I think it’s your wife.”

  “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve watched her with my boys. I already knew she was good.”

  As the game continued, shirts were discarded, trash talk increased, and someone carried a huge cooler of beer and soda over to the field. I grinned like an idiot as I watched Charlie come up to bat. She sauntered. There wasn’t any other word to describe it. Playing in a tiny sundress, no helmet, with her hair streaming down her back, she stepped up to home plate like she owned the damn field. When she met my gaze and pointed above my head, my smile grew.

  “Bring the heat, Tommy!” Molly yelled.

  “Woman,” Tommy yelled back, turning his head to look at her. “I got one speed, alright?”

  Molly lifted her hands in surrender as she laughed.

  “Just try not to hit me,” Charlie called out dryly.

  She hit the first pitch, and just like she’d foreshadowed, the softball went flying over my head and into the field.

  “Oh!” she yelled, dropping her bat and throwing her hands into the air. “That’s right!”

  She did a little dance to first base, then moonwalked halfway to second before spinning on her heel and marching like a tin soldier.

  “My girl’s always gotta be the center of attention,” Farrah joked.

  “Wonder where she got that,” Callie said with a snicker.

  I was watching the field and keeping my mouth shut, because they’d found the ball and were trying to get it back to me at third base. My lips started twitching as one of the younger kids threw it toward me, and Charlie must’ve noticed my distraction because suddenly, she was running hell bent for leather in my direction. Just as I stepped off the base to catch the ball, she came sliding in at my feet.

  “Motherfucker,” she gasped.

  As I turned toward her, the ball hit the ground behind me.

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered, crouching down.

  We were playing in the grass, and it was all pretty soft, but somehow she’d found the one spot on our makeshift diamond that must have had a rock or branch, because she’d tore the hell out of one leg from knee to hip.

  “I’m okay,” she said, climbing to her feet. “I’m good. Get the ball.”

  “Fuck that,” I muttered, watching as blood started to drip down her leg.

  “No pain, no gain, baby,” she said, grinning at me.

  “You’re fuckin’ nuts,” I replied, reaching for her.

  “If you think I’m quitting before I get a run, you’re nuts.”

  “Fine,” I said, clenching my jaw as even more blood ran down her leg. I waved her forward. “Go.”

  “What’s goin’ on?” Casper yelled.

  “All good, father dear,” Charlie called back as she started jog-limping toward home plate.

  “Aw, shit,” someone said from the sidelines. I wasn’t sure who it was and I didn’t even bother turning to look. I was too busy following on Charlie’s heels as she made her awkward run home.

  “Boom,” she said as she touched her foot to the base. “Nailed it. Home run.”

  “Molly,” I yelled as I literally swept Charlie off her feet. I gingerly held her legs, trying not to hurt her. “She’s gonna need some first aid.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” Charlie said, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “At the very least, you need to clean it out,” Farrah said as she reached us. “That looks nasty.”

  “Thanks, mom.”

  “Game’s over,” Casper yelled. “We won.”

  “The hell you did,” Tommy argued, throwing his glove at us. “Charlie’s run was a fuckin’ pity run!”

  “Tommy’s gonna kill you,” Charlie sang in my ear.

  “Just ran over to tell you, sorry,” Molly said, out of breath. “I can’t help you, I’m off the clock.”

  I looked at her in surprise.

  “She’s joking,” Charlie said, squeezing my shoulder. “She always says that.”

  “Better take her inside,” Molly ordered, smiling. “We need to clean that out and see what we’re working with.”

  “I can walk,” Charlie said as I strode toward the back door of the clubhouse. “You’re overreacting.”

  “I can feel blood running down the back of my hand,” I replied, glancing down at her.

  “My legs aren’t broken. It’s just a scratch.”

  “Good man,” Kara’s dad Mack said with a nod, holding the door open for us.

  “Oh, good grief,” Charlie said with a huff. “You’ve been in way worse shape and people let you walk on your own two feet!”

  Mack glanced down at himself as we passed him.

  “Who you think’s gonna be able to carry me?” he asked with a laugh.

  I followed Farrah and Molly into a room and sat Charlie on the bed.

  “Roll onto your side,” Farrah ordered. “You’re getting blood on my quilt.”

  “See,” Charlie said, grinning up at me. “The quilts are meant to be used.”

  “Oh,” Molly said, grimacing. “That might need stitches.”

  “Fuck that,” Charlie replied as she laid down on her side and rested her head on her arm. “Get some of those butterfly bandages and hook me up.”

  “We better clean it first. Do you want to take off those shorts? I can cut them off—”

  “I can take them off,” Charlie replied, hopping to her feet. She reached under her dress and peeled the shorts off, gingerly pulling them away from her thigh.

  I glanced at Farrah and then looked at the floor as Charlie crawled back onto the bed, her whole ass on display around a purple thong.

  “He’s seen it all before,” Charlie said to the women, making Molly snicker.

  “I figured,” Farrah said dryly. “When he stopped making eye contact.” She elbowed me in the side.

  “Holy crap,” Kara yelped as she came in the door behind me. “That looks gnarly.”

  “Looks worse than it feels,” Charlie said. She hissed as Molly laid a wet washcloth on the scrape. “Okay, that smarts a little, but not terrible.”

  “I found the branch you scratched it on,” Kara said, holding it up in the air.

  “Sweet,” Charlie said, reaching for it. “I’m putting that thing up on my wall.”

  She grimaced again as Molly started scrubbing gently at the wound and I grit my teeth so hard my jaw ached. She was acting like it was no big deal, and it didn’t hurt, but I could see the tightness around her eyes and the way she kept freezing in place any time Molly hit a particularly tender spot. It was making me crazy.

  “Maybe you should go out, doll,” Farrah said to me quietly. “Think it’s bothering you more than it’s bothering her.”

  “I’m good,” I replied, stuffing my hands into my pockets. I could feel the dried blood on my hand scraping against the denim and pulled them back out.

  “It’s really no big deal,” Charlie said to me, shooting me a small smile. “I’ve had worse. I bet you have, too.”

  I crouched down near her head. “You’ve seen the scar on the back of my calf?” I asked.

  She nodded, inhaling sharply as Molly did something to her leg.

  “Wiped out on an old rake at my Uncle Beau’s when I was thirteen,” I said, reaching out to smooth her hair away from her face. “So, on top of fifteen stitches, I also had to get a damn tetanus shot that made my arm sore for days.”

  “You gotta keep an eye out for rusty rakes,” she said sympathetically.

  “That sounds like the title of a romance novel,” Farrah said with a chuckle. Then more quietly to Molly, “I’ll get some tweezers.”

  “Make sure they’re clean,” Molly replied. “Just wash them off with soap real quick.”

  “Got it,” Farrah said.

  “How’s it going in here,” Casper asked, peeking his head in the door.

  “I’ll live,” Charlie said, looking up at him. “But my ass is hanging out, so you might want to—”

  “I’m gone,” he replied quickly, disappearing into the hallway.

  “I’m gonna go out and check on Reb,” Kara whispered to Charlie. “You need anything before I go?”

  “I’m good,” she replied. “Go.”

  After Kara was gone, Charlie sighed and looked at me. “This was not how I thought my grad party would end.”

  “Who said it’s ending?” I asked. “We’ll get you patched up and back out there.”

  “Just no more softball today,” Farrah said with a huff as she came back into the room.

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “Only you would slide in a damn dress,” Farrah said, watching Molly work.

  “I was wearing shorts,” Charlie pointed out.

  “Are those shorts?” Molly joked. “I thought they were an extra pair of underwear.”

  Charlie pointed at her mom. “I’ve seen you in shorts smaller than that.”

  “Well, I was probably dancing on a table, not sliding into third.” She paused. “At least until you were no longer present.”

  “Oh, ew!” Charlie snapped. I felt the back of my neck heating in embarrassment, but I couldn’t stop my laugh and tried to cough to cover it up.

  “It’s not funny,” Charlie said to me. “It’s gross.”

  “How the hell do you think you got here?” Farrah asked mildly. “Immaculate conception?”

  I laughed outright at the look on Charlie’s face.

  “Can we please change the subject?” she spat.

  “You really need stitches,” Molly said, sitting back on her knees. “It’s still bleeding a bit and it’s deeper than I’d like.”

  “Just the little bandages,” Charlie replied stubbornly.

  “It’s going to leave a scar if—”

  “Bring it on,” Charlie said shortly, cutting her off. “Seriously, I’m not going to the hospital.”

  “Charlotte,” Farrah said in admonishment.

  “Sorry, Mol,” she said with a sigh. “Please just bandage me up.”

  “I swear to God,” Molly said, shaking her head. “Sometimes I think you’re just like your mother.”

  Farrah smiled.

  “And then shit like this happens and I see you’re just like Casper,” Molly continued. “I’m going to go over it one more time and make sure there aren’t any slivers I’ve missed before I close it up.”

  “Thank you,” Charlie said, closing her eyes. “I could really go for a drink.”

  “What’s your poison?” I asked, trying to distract her as Molly did her thing. “Beer?”

  “Hell no,” Charlie said, the hand by her face clenching into a fist. “Something harder.”

  “That’s what she said,” Farrah said distractedly.

  “Vodka,” Charlie said, ignoring her mom. “No, Jaeger. No… tequila. Shots, no mixer.”

  “Oh, so we’re gettin’ fucked up, then.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Charlie breathed. “Absolutely hammered.”

  “I’ll watch,” I said, running my thumb along her cheek. “I’m designated driver tonight.”

  Charlie’s eyes popped open. “Make Draco do it.”

  “I’m bettin’ he’s already past the point of drivin’ home,” I said with a smile.

  “Damn,” Charlie said jokingly, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “I was hoping to have drunk sex.”

  “Sorry, honey,” I said, lowering my voice. “With me, you’re gonna wanna be sober so you can replay it later.”

  “Ahem,” Farrah said loudly, making me choke on my own spit. “I’m still standing here.”

  “Shh, mom,” Charlie said, grinning at me. “It was just getting good.”

  “Let’s keep it PG, guys,” Molly said with a chuckle. “Okay, we’re good. I’ll close it and wrap it and then we’re done.”

  Charlie let out a relieved sigh.

  “You’re tough,” I said, letting out my own relieved breath.

  Charlie laughed. “Like I was going to freak out with you here.”

  “What?” I asked, jerking in surprise.

  “Honey,” she said softly, throwing the word back at me with the force of an axe. “You were already about to lose it, I wasn’t going to make it worse.”

  “I wasn’t gonna lose it.”

  “You carried me in here.”

  “You were bleeding.”

  “It’s a scratch. I didn’t even need stitches.”

  “You do need stitches,” I argued. “You’re just too stubborn to go get them.”

  “You carried me in here,” Charlie said again, her lips twitching. “Like a damsel in distress.”

  I opened my mouth to reply and then shut it again.

  “It’s okay, kid,” Farrah said, slapping me on the back. “So, you’re a bit overprotective? You’re in good company with this bunch.”

  “Yep,” Molly said. “Almost done. Then I’ll have you stand up while I wrap it. You’re going to be black and blue, Charlie.”

  “Eh, no worries,” Charlie said, leaning up to look at her leg. “No one can see it through the window.”

  “How’s that going?” Molly asked, gesturing for Charlie to stand.

  I got to my feet and moved out of the way so she could get up.

  “It’s good,” Charlie said, nodding. “I had to let a couple people go because they weren’t pulling their weight, so I’ve been covering their shifts.”

  “She’s always working,” Farrah said. “Downside to being the boss.”

  “There are no downsides,” Charlie countered, grinning as she braced her hand on Molly’s shoulder. “Being the boss is sweet.”

  I stood there quietly, listening. Since me and Charlie hadn’t been hanging out, I hadn’t heard anything about how the coffee shop was doing. I knew the sale had gone through and it was hers, but beyond that it was kind of a mystery.

  “We barely see her anymore,” Farrah complained. “I swear, if I didn’t know any better I’d think she was avoiding us.”

  I met Charlie’s gaze and my stomach sank when she shrugged.

  She hadn’t been avoiding me. Well, shit.

  Chapter 9

  Charlie

  My leg hurt like hell, but I wasn’t about to let it show as I limped gingerly out of my parents’ room. I hadn’t been exaggerating. I’d been elbowed in the face during my short stint as a basketball player when I was a preteen. We’d thought my nose was broken—it hadn’t been—and I remembered that hurting much worse. This scratch or cut or whatever didn’t even come close to that, but it still smarted a bit and the bandages and tape pulled a bit every time I took a step.

  I wasn’t going to let a little softball accident ruin my night, though. I had booze to drink—wait, maybe no booze—and songs to dance to and shit to talk. The coffee cart had been sucking up every waking minute and I was so overdue for a little fun that it was ridiculous. I’d set the schedule so that I had the entire next day off and I was going to make the most of my graduation party.

  “What the hell did you do to yourself, little sister?” Cam asked, the moment I stepped into the main room. He came striding toward me, his eyebrows raised.

  “Slid into third like a fucking boss,” I replied as he pulled me in for a hug. I loved Cam’s hugs. His arms were like tree trunks. When he wrapped those things around you they blocked out the entire world. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Had some shit to do today,” he replied, vague as always. “Looks like I missed the fun.”

  “Fun’s just getting started,” Heather said gleefully as she danced by us.

  “Shit,” Cam mumbled, laughing. “She’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”

  “I heard that,” Heather called, flipping him off over her shoulder.

  “If she’s pregnant by the end of the night, we’re gonna have problems,” Tommy joked, grabbing his junk.

  “Ew,” I yelled. “Stop fondling yourself!” Everyone knew Tommy had a vasectomy because he hadn’t shut up about his precious balls for weeks afterward. We really didn’t need the visual.

  “Where’s Trix?” I asked, tipping my head back to look at my brother.

  “Kissin’ the ring,” he joked.

  I snickered and scanned the room for Poet. Sure enough, Trix was there, crouched down by her grandfather, saying something that made him laugh.

  “Come on,” Cam ordered. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “You know, that joke is never funny when the drinks are free,” I replied, letting him tow me to the bar. “It’s a dad joke.”

  “I am a dad.”

  “Yes, I believe I saw your son somewhere around here. But where could Curt be?” I rolled my eyes. “He’d never miss my graduation party.”

  “Don’t start,” Cam warned.

  “It’s bullshit that none of us know where he is,” I complained. “He could’ve at least come to graduation.”

  “No he couldn’t,” Cam said calmly. “Stop acting like a baby.”

  “Easy for you to say – you know where he is!”