Page 83 of Pickled
“You two are getting good at this.” Janie winked and continued visiting players down the courts.
“We are.” His eyes held mine for a moment too long, and those damn butterflies were back to flutter in my stomach.
“Piper.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.
“What?”
He reached out like he was going to take my hand, then stopped himself. His fingers hovered inches from mine before he pulled back.
“Nothing.” He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. “Good shot.”
But the way he’d looked at me wasn’t nothing. He’d almost touched me, and I found myself wishing he had. My skin tingled with anticipation, and for a second, I wanted to say fuck it, forget about my stupid rules.
Instead, I stepped back. “We should practice our returns.”
“Right. Returns.”
We spent the rest of practice hitting balls, pretending we hadn’t almost broken my no-touching rule.
As we packed up our gear, I caught him watching me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about Saturday.”
“The tournament?”
“The tournament, right.” But the way he said it made me think he was talking about something else. Something that would happen after the tournament was over.
Something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
27
GIDEON
Thursday morning,I was already doing footwork drills when Piper showed up to the courts. Olive skipped along beside her with a little paddle. What the hell was going on?
“I hope you don’t mind,” Piper called out as they got closer. “Judy had an early spa appointment, and it’s a professional development day at Olive’s school.”
“Of course not.” I only partially meant it. Piper and I needed to be serious about our drills. “Hey, Olive. Ready to play some pickleball?”
“Can I really play with you guys?” Her pigtails whipped wildly as she looked between me and her mom, bouncing up and down. With the excitement in her voice, my selfish thoughts about a kid ruining our practice evaporated.
“As long as you promise to go easy on us,” I said.
She giggled. “I’ll try, but I’m getting really good.” She held up a bright pink paddle that matched her shoes.
I took the paddle from her and swung it. “Nice.” I handed it back to her. “You’re lucky it isn’t my color.”
Piper mouthed, “Thank you.” Then she put her hand on Olive’s shoulder. “Why don’t you show him what Janie gave you.”
Olive dug into her mom’s bag and held up a badminton racket like it was the Olympic torch. “Janie said it was made for junior players. I’m trying out for my school’s badminton team Friday night.” She swung, mimicking what I had done with her little paddle. The mirroring motion warmed my heart.
“That’s a beautiful racket.” I tapped the strings. “And badminton tryouts? That’s a big deal.”
“I know!” She beamed. “I’ve been practicing my serves and everything. Mom says if I make the team, I can play in tournaments like you two.”
I glanced at Piper, who was watching her daughter with so much love it made my chest tight. This kid had no idea how lucky she was to have a mom like Piper. One who would do anything for her kid. Exactly the kind of woman I’d want as a mother to my daughter.
