TODAY made JP a very happy man. The sky was its trademark brilliant summer blue. He was about to play ball with a group of kids and give back to the community, and he’d just spotted one seriously luscious beauty across the way without a ring on. Life didn’t get much more perfect than that.
Appreciation made its way up his chest and settled into a little hum in his throat. It wasn’t every day that he saw a woman who made his mouth water at first glance. But this one did. She was sexy in such a simple, effortless way that he felt a ball of heat flare in his belly. And since he didn’t consider himself a complicated guy, her natural beauty appealed to him on a couple levels.
JP was a straightforward kind of guy. He liked what he liked, knew who he was and what he wanted. All his life he’d had a clear line on what made him tick and had never doubted himself. It made for a life free of tangles.
He saw something—he made a decision. He didn’t look over his shoulder. Because of that, JP knew he had a certain kind of centeredness that was rare for a guy in his mid-twenties. He possessed a clearness of sight that had guided him faithfully and gave him grounding. Right now that sight was set on a cool drink of water—and this Iowa farm boy was real thirsty.
JP tugged at the brim of his hat and flashed his best grin. Stirring, prepping to walk over to her, his teammate Drake Paulson cut him off before he’d managed a step.
“Hey, brother. Looks like we got ourselves a perfect day for playing ball.” The player grinned and scratched his unshaven chin. “Course, it’s a perfect day for a different kinda sport too. The horizontal sort that makes me tingly and happy. What say we have us a bet, man? First to score a phone number from a single mom gets dibs on the ice bath after practice tomorrow.”
Sliding a sideways glance at the gruff player, JP shook his head and said, “Don’t seem fair to bet on single moms, hoss.”
“Why not? They want to get laid, same as the rest of us.”
JP’s eyebrow arched at the logic. They probably did want to get laid, same as them. But they had kids to consider. That made it different.
“I don’t know what kind of women you’ve been playing tickle with lately, but they aren’t right.”
Drake clamped a hard, meaty hand on his shoulder and turned them both toward his fantasy woman in the hippie skirt. He tipped his head in her direction. “You telling me that you wouldn’t give your left nut to have her phone number, boy?”
Through the crowd of excited children, media, and helicopter parents, he studied her. A colorful woven purse the size of a small suitcase hung crosswise across her body and her fair skin made him think of winters back home in Iowa. Pristine and flawless. Her long, wavy hair was more gold than red and her curves were the perfect balance between lanky and lush. And when she smiled at the boy by her side, her whole face lit up.
Would he give his left nut for her number?
Yeah.
Sometimes he wondered at the things Drake knew. The guy said things that bordered on offensive more often than not. But the hell of it was that he was eerily perceptive. JP had only been with the team for a season, but he’d already seen that guy’s sharp observations prove correct countless times.
Pulled from his thoughts when a cleat dug into the back of his knee and buckled it, nearly making him fall, JP turned his head as pitcher Peter Kowalskin stepped beside him. He held a paper plate full of food and was chewing on something. “What’s got you girls so enamored over here?”
Of all his team mates, JP liked Pete the best. Not that the other guys weren’t great, because they were. It was just that he and Pete were a lot alike. They both grabbed life by the horns and bent it in whatever direction they wanted. And they both did it with smiles on their faces. However life decided to be, sideways or upside down, they were always on top.
It gave a guy a helluva lot of
Appreciation made its way up his chest and settled into a little hum in his throat. It wasn’t every day that he saw a woman who made his mouth water at first glance. But this one did. She was sexy in such a simple, effortless way that he felt a ball of heat flare in his belly. And since he didn’t consider himself a complicated guy, her natural beauty appealed to him on a couple levels.
JP was a straightforward kind of guy. He liked what he liked, knew who he was and what he wanted. All his life he’d had a clear line on what made him tick and had never doubted himself. It made for a life free of tangles.
He saw something—he made a decision. He didn’t look over his shoulder. Because of that, JP knew he had a certain kind of centeredness that was rare for a guy in his mid-twenties. He possessed a clearness of sight that had guided him faithfully and gave him grounding. Right now that sight was set on a cool drink of water—and this Iowa farm boy was real thirsty.
JP tugged at the brim of his hat and flashed his best grin. Stirring, prepping to walk over to her, his teammate Drake Paulson cut him off before he’d managed a step.
“Hey, brother. Looks like we got ourselves a perfect day for playing ball.” The player grinned and scratched his unshaven chin. “Course, it’s a perfect day for a different kinda sport too. The horizontal sort that makes me tingly and happy. What say we have us a bet, man? First to score a phone number from a single mom gets dibs on the ice bath after practice tomorrow.”
Sliding a sideways glance at the gruff player, JP shook his head and said, “Don’t seem fair to bet on single moms, hoss.”
“Why not? They want to get laid, same as the rest of us.”
JP’s eyebrow arched at the logic. They probably did want to get laid, same as them. But they had kids to consider. That made it different.
“I don’t know what kind of women you’ve been playing tickle with lately, but they aren’t right.”
Drake clamped a hard, meaty hand on his shoulder and turned them both toward his fantasy woman in the hippie skirt. He tipped his head in her direction. “You telling me that you wouldn’t give your left nut to have her phone number, boy?”
Through the crowd of excited children, media, and helicopter parents, he studied her. A colorful woven purse the size of a small suitcase hung crosswise across her body and her fair skin made him think of winters back home in Iowa. Pristine and flawless. Her long, wavy hair was more gold than red and her curves were the perfect balance between lanky and lush. And when she smiled at the boy by her side, her whole face lit up.
Would he give his left nut for her number?
Yeah.
Sometimes he wondered at the things Drake knew. The guy said things that bordered on offensive more often than not. But the hell of it was that he was eerily perceptive. JP had only been with the team for a season, but he’d already seen that guy’s sharp observations prove correct countless times.
Pulled from his thoughts when a cleat dug into the back of his knee and buckled it, nearly making him fall, JP turned his head as pitcher Peter Kowalskin stepped beside him. He held a paper plate full of food and was chewing on something. “What’s got you girls so enamored over here?”
Of all his team mates, JP liked Pete the best. Not that the other guys weren’t great, because they were. It was just that he and Pete were a lot alike. They both grabbed life by the horns and bent it in whatever direction they wanted. And they both did it with smiles on their faces. However life decided to be, sideways or upside down, they were always on top.
It gave a guy a helluva lot of
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