Page 8 of Home Safe

ME

Just her.

SAM

Okay. I’ll have someone take Jason to grab an extra t-shirt or something.

A few minutes later, I hear Sam chatting and laughing with another feminine voice. I step out into the hallway to meet them.

I’m caught off guard by the stunning woman standing beside my sister. Her wavy hair is a deep reddish-brown with copper streaks catching the light. She’s taller than Sam by a few inches but probably five inches shorter than my six-foot frame. As she draws closer, I’m taken in by her hazel eyes, golden centers crowded by deep green pools.

The jolt of physical attraction disables my brain long enough to stretch my silence into awkward territory.

Sam shoots me a weird look. “This is Danae Collins, Jason’s new mom. You said you wanted to tell her something about Jason?” Sam prompts.

Danae’s face visibly falls. “Oh no. Did something bad happen? Did he have a meltdown? This morning was rocky, but I thought we’d talked through everything enough that he was feeling better about coming. I was really hoping he’d have a good day.”

“No, absolutely nothing went wrong with Jason at camp,” I quickly assure her. “Quite the opposite. He was a bright spot all day. I wanted to tell you about something especially thoughtful he said to me.”

I fill Danae in on Jason’s conflicted confession. “Not many nine-year-olds have the awareness to even consider whether they’re qualified for an event like this, much less to feel guilty about potentially taking someone else’s spot. He’s a good kid. And he went on and on about how nice you are and how lucky he is to have you as his mom. He talked about you helping him find books that made him feel better when he was younger and how you’re going to love him forever now.”

Danae blinks back tears. The surprise and gratitude in her eyes only make her look more beautiful as she says, “Oh gosh. Thank you so much for taking the time to tell me that. Hearing that he told you those things . . . I can’t explain how much that means.” She pauses to collect her emotions, and I’m hit with an urge to comfort her. She shrugs as she continues, “It’s only been a month, but I’m constantly questioning myself. I’ve felt like I’m screwing this whole thing up more times than I could count. To hear that he was so positive today is the encouragement I needed after this morning. I really can’t thank you enough for going out of your way to tell me about this.”

She wipes a finger under each eye and smiles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name. Are you one of the volunteers running the camp?” Danae asks.

Sam snorts.

I clear my throat to stop myself from laughing.Is she serious? She looks completely serious. Holding a hand out, I say, “I’m Griffin West.”

Danae’s eyes go wide. “Oh, this isyourcamp? You’re one of the players for the Crowns?”

Darting my eyes to Sam, I see the considerable amount of effort it’s taking her not to bust out laughing. She’ll be teasing me about this for days. Weeks, more likely.

“Yep,” I answer. “I play shortstop for the Crowns.” I glance down to where my hand is still hanging in midair, which jolts Danae into reciprocating the handshake.

It sounds stupid to say that sparks fly the moment her hand meets mine. That kind of movie nonsense doesn’t happen in real life.

Or, maybe itdoeshappen, and I had never experienced it before this moment.

Or, maybe I’m wildly intrigued by this striking, compassionate woman who had zero clue who I was. Rather than feeling annoyed by her lack of recognition, it’s oddly refreshing. Kansas Citians arepassionateabout their sports teams. So flying under the radar rarely occurs for me.

“I’m so sorry,” Danae says, voice higher pitched than it was a moment ago. “I feel so dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Sam says, mirth in her tone. “It’s good for Griff to get a dose of reality every now and then so he doesn’t get a big head from all the adoring fans.”

Danae looks to Sam with a quizzical expression.

“This joker is my big brother,” Sam explains, smile growing wider.

Now, Danae fully covers her face with her hands. “I am beyond embarrassed,” she mumbles. She drops her hands, and the pink in her cheeks only makes her more attractive than she already was. “Well, thank you for accepting Jason to this camp. For putting this camp on in the first place—it’s an incredible thing that you’re doing here. I confess I’m not much of a baseball fan, but this is Jason’s dream come true.”

The tone in her voice when she confesses to not liking baseball intrigues me even further. I’d like to ask a hundred follow-up questions about where that dislike came from, but I bite my tongue. This is hardly the time or place for a personal interrogation.

I might need to create the appropriate time and place.

“I’d better get Jason back home. He’s bound to be exhausted after all the excitement today,” Danae says, then turns to Sam. “I promise I’ll get him here on time tomorrow.”

“And then you’ll go sit at a coffee shop with your book all day, right?” Sam insists.

---