Suddenly a Bride / A Bride After All: Suddenly a Bride. Кейси Майклс
sound in her throat, rather the way someone might attempt to gently shush someone who was speaking in a movie theater, and the backseat was silent once more.
“How many children are on this team of yours?” she asked him, just as if the interruption had never happened.
The question seemed to come out of left field. “Sixteen. Thirteen boys, three girls. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Except you might want to reconsider the local lockup offer. Cracking rocks or making license plates would probably look like a walk in the park after dealing with sixteen young darlings like my two back there. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Will pulled into a parking space near the door of the sporting goods store. “You know, you may have a point. Do you think I might have a case against The Hammer for cruel and unusual punishment?”
“I’m not a lawyer, and so far you’ve only had one day on the job, so that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Seven-year-olds aren’t really that terrible, if you know how to handle them.”
“Oh, and how do I do that?” Will asked once they were out of the car, and Elizabeth had a firm grip on one hand of each of her twins.
“Be fair, be consistent, choose your battles,” Elizabeth told him as they crossed the driving lane and reached the sidewalk outside the store. She let go of the boys’ hands and they raced for the door, arms waving, each wanting to be the one who caused the sensor to activate the automatic doors. “And two things more. Never underestimate the inventiveness of a seven-year-old … and never let them see you sweat.”
“They can smell fear?” Will asked, one eye on the twins, who had come to an abrupt halt just inside the doors, as if they’d never been inside a sporting goods store before. Which they probably hadn’t. Poor kids.
“I’d rather say they can sense weakness. It’s one thing to try to be their friend, but there’s a line between adult and child, and you cross it at your peril. Unless you want to be treated like you were just another seven-year-old boy.”
“Not if their mom is going to take all my goodies away, no,” Will said, and watched as becoming color ran into Elizabeth’s cheeks. Yup, shooting fish in a barrel. Taking candy from a baby. And she’d think it was all her idea. “Come on,” he added, taking her hand as if it was something he did all the time, “I think the baseball equipment is over there, to the left. Boys? Follow us.”
Two hours, about two hundred fifty dollars and two pizzas later they were back at the ball fields and Will was handing Elizabeth the keys to her SUV as she joined him outside the drivers’ side of the car.
“Sticker shock wear off yet?” he asked her.
“You know they’re going to grow out of those baseball shoes before the season is over, don’t you? At least you said the hats and shirts come as part of the registration fee,” she said, smiling weakly. “But they seem more excited about the idea of playing now, don’t they?”
“I can think of something that might make them even more excited. I’ve got four box seat season tickets for the Pigs, and they’re playing at home tonight.”
“The Pigs? I beg your pardon? Don’t pigs have something to do with football?”
“That’s pigskin, another name for a football. I’m talking about the IronPigs, our local Phillies baseball farm team. We could take the boys.”
Elizabeth shifted those marvelous eyes left and right, as if searching for understanding. “Why would anyone want to be called Pigs?”
“The name wouldn’t have been my first choice, either, but it’s catching on.”
“All right, if you say so. But what’s an iron pig?”
Will thought about this for a moment. “Well. Iron pigs are what they poured steel into? Or maybe it’s a twist on pig iron? I know the name has something to do with the local Bethlehem Steel Works plant, back when steel was the largest industry around here, instead of the casino that’s operating on part of the old plant grounds now.”
“In other words, Counselor, you don’t know what an iron pig is?”
“I haven’t got a clue,” Will answered truthfully. “Does it matter?”
“To you or me? Maybe not. But do you remember being a seven-year-old boy, Will?”
Will considered this for all of five seconds. “I’ll find out. But I’m betting I’m not going to be able to discover why the mascot is a huge fuzzy brown pig named FeRROUS, and they’ll probably ask me that, too, right?”
“If they don’t, I know I will.”
“Thanks for the warning and, I hope, for accepting my invitation. The game starts at seven, and there’s always a lot of entertainment for the kids between innings. What do you say?”
“I … um …” She looked into the backseat, where the twins were using their new mitts in a sort of duel with each other. “I suppose so. They really don’t seem to have a single idea of what baseball is all about, do they?”
“It doesn’t look like it, no,” Will told her in all honesty. “But that’s not your fault.”
“Because I’m a woman,” Elizabeth said, “or because I don’t have a husband to teach them?”
Will mentally kicked himself. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. That didn’t come out the way I meant it. Not that I’m sure I know what I meant. I don’t have kids, but if I did, and they were girls? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be up on all the … girl stuff.”
“So baseball is boys’ stuff? Didn’t you say there are three little girls on the team?”
Will sighed. “You’re doing this on purpose, right? And I’m moving too fast. Do you want me to take back my invitation?”
She bit her bottom lip as she shook her head in the negative, those entrancing thick ribbons of blunt-cut curls moving with her and making his palms itch to run through her hair. “I haven’t been on a date since … but this isn’t a date because Danny and Mikey are going with us, so … so I don’t know why I’m being so obnoxious. We’d love to go see the IronPigs with you.”
“Great,” Will said, belatedly realizing that he really cared about the answer Elizabeth gave him. Him, the guy who saw women as pretty much interchangeable—and always replaceable. But he wouldn’t think about that right now. “Let me get the boys their shirts and caps from the back of my car. They can wear them tonight.”
Chapter Three
Elizabeth left the twins with Elsie, Richard’s housekeeper, in the kitchen, where they were proudly showing her all their purchases, except for the bat their mother had insisted remain outside a house filled with antiques and lamps and other treasures that probably should not come in contact with a seven-year-old and his new toy.
She ducked into the powder room just off the kitchen to wash her hands, splash cold water on her face and make use of the toothbrush she kept there, as she felt fairly certain she had pepperoni breath.
Then she went in search of Richard, who was most likely in his study, killing somebody.
She knocked on the door and poked her head into the large, cherrywood-paneled room that overlooked the swimming pool, the tennis court and a seemingly limitless expanse of well-designed grounds. “Richard? We’re back.”
Her employer, friend and possible fiancé looked up at her blankly for a moment before his busy brain hit on the “Oh, it’s Elizabeth” switch, and then returned his attention to the computer monitor in front of him. “Home from the baseball wars, are you? That’s nice, Elizabeth. Tell me, what’s another word for incomprehensible? As in, she experienced an incomprehensible reaction.”
“Inconceivable? Unfathomable?” She thought about Will Hollingswood—why,