Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138315 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 692(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“The best. Beer. Ball field hot dogs. Nachos. My girl and her man.”
And Axl was done.
He leaned forward to look beyond Hattie and said to her father, “I know Hattie told you I had a family situation this morning, Don. But I can assure you, I’m fine.”
Don leaned forward too.
“My girl is not what I called her, and to my dying day, I’ll regret I called her that.”
Axl stilled.
Hattie went solid next to him.
“That’s my penance,” Don went on. “And I hope your father understands that’s his too.”
“He doesn’t understand that, Don.”
“Then I’m sorry for you, son. But I’m sorrier for him,” Don returned. He looked to his daughter, patted her leg, and said quieter. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay, Dad.”
“It’s not. But thanks for that anyway,” he replied, sat back, aimed his eyes at the field and took a big bite of the hot dog Hattie had covered in ketchup, mustard and onions for him.
Axl turned his eyes to Hattie.
She was staring at him with hers swimming in tears.
“You okay?” he mouthed.
She nodded, sniffed, pulled her shit together, looked to the field and took her own huge bite of hot dog.
Jesus Christ.
Axl sat back and stared at the field.
“The runner should stick closer to the bag, right, Dad?” Hattie asked.
“No, honey, he’s a fast one. Got twenty-five stolen bases this year already. Pitcher doesn’t keep an eye, he’s gone,” Don answered.
Five minutes later, Don was proved right.
Stolen base.
* * *
Axl put his phone down at the side of the Jacuzzi and looked to his girl, who was straddling his lap wearing a red-and-white polka-dot bikini.
Yeah.
A fucking polka-dot bikini.
“She says she’s okay,” he told her about the text he just read from his mom after he’d texted her to ascertain that very thing.
“I really hope after all this drama that we have some smooth sailing for, oh, I don’t know, a year or five,” she replied.
He smiled at her.
“At least until Lottie and Mo get married,” she said.
“Yeah, at least until that,” he agreed.
She reached, grabbed her glass, and sucked back some margarita.
He didn’t go for his beer.
He went for her ass.
She put her glass back and looked down at him. “I knew I’d love your Jacuzzi the minute I saw it.”
“Always liked it. Can’t say I ever loved it, until now.”
She smiled at him.
“You good with that thing with your dad?” he asked.
“He’s never … ” She brought her shoulders forward, released them. “He could be apologetic, but that was different.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t know what it means, but I think he had a really good time with us today. I don’t think he’s been to a game in a long time. He doesn’t leave his house much. I think maybe, I don’t know …”
She didn’t finish that.
He still said, “Yeah.”
“It kinda feels stupid to hope,” she said softly.
“It’s never stupid to hope, baby,” he replied.
“Would you take him to a show?” she requested.
“Absolutely,” he answered.
“He follows Smithie’s on Insta. That’s totally not Dad.”
“I told him about it.”
She looked surprised. “You did?”
“Said they use you a lot to draw an audience.”
“Whoa.”
“You’re special, Hattie. And he knows it. He’s always known it. And I can’t speak for how he tried to draw it out, push you beyond what you were capable of giving to make you more when you were already great. My sense is, now he’s realizing how great you are and always were. And that doesn’t have to do with your dancing. It has to do with you being a daughter who would stick by her dad even when he didn’t deserve it.”
She made a study of watching her finger track his cheekbone, down past the corner of his lips, to his jaw.
“Babe,” he called.
Her gaze came to him.
“It’s never stupid to hope,” he repeated.
“Yeah,” she whispered, dipped her head and kissed him.
It got serious.
And then her phone rang.
They broke it off and she reached out and looked at the screen.
It said, FLYNN CALLING.
“Take it.” His voice was shaking with laughter.
“Axl, I don’t—”
“Take it, baby, naked Jacuzzi sex is on the line.”
She shot him a look then took the call.
“Hey, Flynn.” Pause then, “No. Um … ” Pause then, “Well, actually, honestly, no. We haven’t been seeing each other very long.”
Axl beat back the audible laughter, but now his entire body was shaking with it.
She shot him a harder look.
And kept talking.
“Sorry, just to say, even so, we’ve known each other for a while, and I have the code to his phone.”
Axl made a noise like he was strangling.
She smacked his shoulder and got water in both their faces.
He didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Yes, well, I don’t know what to say,” she kept going. “I’m sorry about that. I just liked you a lot and it hurt to break it off, so I didn’t take your calls because, well, it hurt.”
Axl quit laughing.