Page 6 of Falling Together

I smile at him and sip the cold beer. Fuck, is that ever good. It’s needed after that damn call with Kari.

It seems no matter what I do, I can’t please anyone.

My ex-wife.

My son.

No one.

Hell, I’d take getting my kid to say more than two words to me at a time, but I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon. When I told him to stay in the bunk room tonight—thank God it’s not my night to supervise them—he rolled his eyes and went off with his friends.

“Calvin, can I get two fingers of bourbon, please?”

That voice. It was irate with me earlier. Now it sounds tired. Sneaking a peek next to me, I spot the woman that yelled at me in the bar. The one that went off on me because of the kids.

Because of the massive stain that still covers her dress.

Shit. That really was bad.

“Ugh. It’s you.”

Her gaze connects with mine. There is still a fire blazing in her blue eyes. Guess I was looking at her for too long.

But even with that anger there, damn, she is the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Hey, it’s not my fault the kids ruined your dress.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing her bourbon and taking a healthy swallow. “Does that mean I should blame the weather?”

I snort, turning in my stool to better face her. “I mean, if it weren’t for the snow, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Man, it’s really easy for you to shift blame off them.”

“Just like that.” I snap my fingers. “If it were my kid, trust me, he’d be grounded.”

Not that he’d need another reason not to speak to me, but it would add to the list.

“At least one of you would be reprimanding them,” she says.

I don’t blame her for being annoyed. After that mom told her to clean up, I would have been pissed too. They were more irritated their night got interrupted than anything else. Some of the kids’ parents are the worst. I hate traveling with them, but it is what it is.

“Can I buy you a drink to make up for the trouble?”

That earns me half of a smile. “I work here. I don’t actually have to pay for drinks.”

“Just as well. It’s not like there’s much of anything left.”

“I think we can blame you and the other baseball parents,” she points out.

“Us? You said you were in a wedding. Weddings are notorious for drinking.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to be here.”

I smile at her. I can’t help it. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t know you well enough not to like you. Although, in my defense, I thought you were going to call me a bitch earlier, so that had me ready to throw down.”

“I would never call someone a bitch.”