The Fill-In Boyfriend(63)

I shook my head. “Bec, I’m done scheming.”

“Scheming? This isn’t scheming. It’s just spending time with my brother. Where’s the harm in that?”

Spending time with her brother. I could feel the tug in my heart at the thought and knew that any more time spent with her brother might lead to a lot of harm on my side. I was starting to like him. Too much. And I usually didn’t let myself do that with so little assurance that the feeling was mutual. But I found myself saying, “Okay.”




We had driven a good twenty minutes and had reached a country neighborhood where every house looked in need of a face-lift. Hayden pulled up a long dirt drive. The property was lined with large trees and even more junk. Rusted-out old cars, broken appliances, large pieces of farm equipment.

Dogs, several of them, ran up to the car as we drove, barking and chasing us.

“Where are we? This looks like the setting for a mass murder.”

Hayden smiled at me. “This is Will’s house. He’s a member of our church, and for twenty bucks, he lets us throw baseballs in his yard.”

“Couldn’t we have thrown baseballs in your yard for free?”

“Yes, but he lets us throw baseballs at his stuff.” Bec pointed to an old car we were passing with a large hole in its windshield. “It’s very satisfying.”

Hayden honked the horn and an old man came out of the dilapidated house and called to the dogs. They all barreled toward him. He locked them behind a gate and then went back in the house with a grumpy face that seemed to say he really didn’t want us here.

“He’s in a good mood today,” Bec said.

“That was his good mood?”

“Normally he makes us lock up the dogs and it’s not as easy as he made it look.”

“If he doesn’t like you coming here, why does he let you?”

Hayden turned off the car and grabbed the bucket of baseballs from the backseat. “He loves us.”

“He loves our money,” Bec said, holding up a twenty. “I’ll go pay him.”




“That was the saddest attempt to throw a baseball that I’ve ever seen,” Hayden said after my . . . sad attempt to throw a baseball. It didn’t even shake the windshield let alone put a crack in it.

“Just picture your brother’s face behind that windshield,” Bec said, tossing a ball and catching it over and over.

“Imagine him holding up his video camera,” Hayden added.

“Do you guys keep this bucket of baseballs just to use over here?” I asked.

“No, we have it because Hayden tried to play once in high school like all his friends. But not all the baseballs in all the world could make him athletic.”

“Thanks, Bec.”

“What? It’s true.”

“You didn’t make the team?”

“My heart wasn’t into it.”

“He’s been friends with the same group since elementary school. They all got athletic. He got . . .”

“Don’t say it,” he said to her.

“Geeky.”

“She said it.”

I laughed.

“He felt left out and lonely. That’s why he tried out for the team. Not because he liked it.”

Lonely. Hayden felt lonely with his group of friends. Was that why he thought I was when he first met me? He seemed to sense what I was thinking because he squeezed my arm and said, “I’m not lonely. Now, throw the ball.”

I got ready to throw again and he said, “Okay, come here. You need direction.” He pulled me closer then positioned himself behind me.

Bec groaned. “Are you really using the ‘let me help you learn something’ move?”

I couldn’t see Hayden’s face so I wasn’t sure if he was blushing as much as I was.

“This isn’t a move, Bec. She really needs help.”

“Hey.” I elbowed him in the stomach and he laughed.

“If I wanted to make a move, I’d do something like this.” He put his hands on my waist, pulled me back against his chest, then leaned in close to my ear. “Hey, baby, you need help learning how to throw a baseball?” He said it in his low, husky voice.

I froze, the entire back of my neck and right ear tingling to life. Bec must’ve seen my face because she started laughing. Hard.

He stepped back. “What? Was that not very good?”