Pitch For You (Texas Heat)

Chapter 7

7

Sofia

“Careful with that hay bale,” Brett warned, his muscular arms reaching out to steady it as I hoisted it onto the stack. “Don't want you getting hurt.”

“Thanks,” I replied, secretly enjoying the protectiveness he showed me. It was a small gesture, but one that made me feel valued and cared for.

“Hey,” Brett called out gently, trying to regain my attention. “Did I ever tell you how amazing you are? The way you manage this ranch, take care of Max... it's incredible.”

My eyes flickered back to him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. I offered a shy smile and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve always been good at multitasking.”

“Still, I'm really grateful for everything you do,” he said, stepping closer and resting his hand on mine for a brief moment before continuing his work.

As the days went by, I found myself stealing glances at Brett more often than I'd like to admit. I couldn't deny the butterflies that stirred within me whenever he was near, or the way my heart raced when our fingers brushed against each other.

One afternoon, while taking a break from chores, I hesitated before asking, “Do you remember our first date?”

“Of course,” he answered with a fond smile. “We went to that little diner down the road and shared a milkshake.”

“Right,” I nodded, a wistful smile playing on my lips. “We talked for hours that night.”

“And even though our paths diverged for a while, I'm grateful to have found my way back to you. No matter if we just stay friends or not.”

As my guard slowly began to crumble, I allowed myself to seek solace in Brett's presence. We spent the evenings talking, sharing stories of the past and dreams for the future. And with each conversation, the walls around my heart began to soften.

“Mom, can I show you something?” Max asked, running up to Brett and I with excitement in his eyes.

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Look what Brett taught me!” Max exclaimed, proudly displaying a small wooden carving of a horse. His face beamed with joy and accomplishment, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection towards the man who had taken Max under his wing.

“Max, it's beautiful.”

I watched Max playing in the open field. The laughter of Max carried on the soft breeze, reaching my ears and warming my heart.

“Mind if I join you?” Brett asked as he approached me from behind, his muscular frame casting a long shadow across the worn wooden boards of the porch.

“Of course not,” I replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips as I shifted to make room for him beside me.

Brett leaned against the railing, and sighed.

“Max has really taken to you, hasn't he?”

“Seems that way.”

I glanced sidelong at Brett, taking in his strong jawline and the way his blue eyes sparkled with pride. “He's lucky to have you around.”

“Likewise,” Brett murmured, his gaze never leaving the scene. “You and Max… you've given me something I didn't know I was missing.”

It was as if an invisible thread tied our hearts together, pulling us closer with each passing day.

“Come on!” Max called out, waving his arms to get our attention. “It's time to get back to work!”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed, pushing away from the railing and extending my hand to Brett.

As we walked side by side towards the barn, our hands brushing ever so slightly, I couldn't help but revel in the warmth that radiated from his touch. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in years, and one that I never wanted to let go of.

Together, we worked with practiced ease, bodies moving in perfect harmony as we carried out the tasks. The gentle clinks and rustles of our labor filled the air, punctuated by the occasional playful banter and shared laughter.

“Remember when we used to sneak out here after curfew?” Brett asked, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he recalled the memory.

“Of course,” I replied, cheeks flushing. “We thought we were so clever, hiding from our parents.”

“Maybe we weren't as clever as we thought,” Brett mused, leaning closer until his breath tickled my ear. “But some things are worth the risk.”

Max ran up and took Brett’s hand. “You promised to play baseball with me today. Are you ready?”

I liked that my son had someone to look up to, especially knowing his father wasn’t around. He needed a good male figure in his life.

“Alright, let's load up in my truck and i’ll take you to where I learned.”

“Really?”

Brett looked to me for permission and then we loaded up. He drove down the dirt road past the old high school to the field.

Shadows crossed the dirt of the makeshift baseball diamond. A breeze rustled through the nearby trees as Brett crouched down to Max's level, his muscular arms gently guiding the boy's small hands into position on the worn leather ball.

“Alright, buddy,” he said, his eyes meeting Max's eager gaze. “Remember what I told you – grip it like this, with your fingers on these seams. That's how you'll get the most power and control.”

Max nodded. He glanced back at me, seated on the splintered wooden bleachers a short distance away. I offered him an encouraging smile, though my green eyes held a hint of apprehension as they flicked back to Brett.

As Max practiced his grip, Brett shared some stories from his own youth, when dreams of playing professional baseball filled his every waking moment. “I had it all planned out,” he said, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “I was gonna make it big, travel the country, play for the best teams. But life had other plans.”

I watched them from my perch on the bleachers, feeling a tug of nostalgia deep within my chest. The sight of Brett coaching Max stirred up memories.

“Mom!” Max called out. “Look, I think I've got it!”

“Show me,” I encouraged, trying to focus on the pride swelling in my heart as Max prepared to throw his first proper fastball.

“Okay, Max,” Brett said, stepping back to give the boy room. “Just relax, take a deep breath, and let it fly.”

With a grunt of effort, Max hurled the ball toward the makeshift home plate. It sailed through the air, wobbling slightly, but undeniably faster than any of his previous attempts.

“Great job, Max!” Brett exclaimed, clapping him on the back. “You're a natural!”

His eyes beamed for the man who had become such an important part of his life in such a short time.

I bit my lip, conflicted as I watched the easy bond between Max and the man who had once held my heart. A small voice inside me whispered that this was what we all needed – someone to heal the wounds left by the past, to help us create a new future together. But another voice warned me of the danger in letting myself trust again, in risking everything for the fragile hope of love.

“Let's keep practicing,” Brett said to Max, unaware of my inner turmoil. “I know you can throw even better than that.”

“Okay,” Max agreed, eagerly reaching for another ball, his enthusiasm undiminished by fatigue.

And so they continued, their laughter and encouragement filling the warm, golden air, while I sat on the sidelines, my heart torn between longing and fear, wondering if I dared take a chance on the game of love once more.

My gaze followed the baseball as it soared through the air, tracing a smooth arc before landing in Brett's glove with a satisfying smack. Max's face lit up with pride and excitement, his previous uncertainty fading away under Brett's unwavering guidance.

“See that?” Brett grinned, tossing the ball back to Max. “You've got the makings of a real pitcher, kiddo.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” Brett affirmed. “Just remember the grip and follow-through we practiced.”

The fire was rekindled in Brett's eyes – the same passion I had seen when we were just teenagers, dreaming of a future together. It was clear that teaching Max had awakened something within him, and I found myself drawn to that familiar determination.

“Okay, let's try it again,” Max said.

“Keep your eye on the target and don't forget to use your whole body,” Brett instructed, taking a step back to give Max room.

Max took a deep breath, steadying himself, before winding up and releasing the ball with a powerful throw. The ball whirred through the air, its path more precise than before, and landed squarely in Brett's glove.

“Amazing!” I clapped my hands.

“Way to go, Max!” Brett echoed, his enthusiasm infectious. “Your technique is really improving.”

“I couldn't have done it without you.”

“Trust me, kid, you've got talent,” Brett reassured him, ruffling Max's hair.

As they continued to practice, I was captivated. I watched as Brett demonstrated another technique for Max to try, his movements fluid and graceful, every muscle honed by years of dedication to the sport he loved. And though his dreams had been dashed by injury, it was clear that his passion remained undiminished.

“Your turn,” Brett said, stepping aside so Max could mimic his motions.

Max nodded, concentrating on replicating Brett's technique as best he could. His young limbs still lacked the strength and coordination of his mentor, but I marveled at the progress he had made in such a short time.

With each throw, Max's confidence grew, bolstered by Brett's unwavering support. And in those moments, I saw more than just the man who had once captured my heart – I saw a glimpse of the father figure my son had been missing.

“Keep it up,” Brett encouraged, beaming with pride. “You've got this.”

“Mom! Did you see that?” Max shouted excitedly after a particularly impressive throw, his face flushed with pride.

“I did, honey. You're doing great.”

“Isn't Brett the best?” Max gushed.

“Why don't you go grab us some water?” Brett suggested, sending me a knowing glance. “We've been working hard out here.”

“Okay!” Max agreed, sprinting off towards the nearby water fountain.

As soon as Max was out of earshot, Brett turned to me. I hesitated, heart warring with my head. Should I confide in him? Or would that only make things worse?

“Sometimes, I just don't know what the right thing to do is anymore.”

“Life has a way of making things complicated,” Brett acknowledged. “But trust your instincts, Sofia. They've always led you in the right direction before.”

“Have they?” I asked, eyes searching for reassurance. “Or have they just led me back to you?”

As the words hung heavy in the air, I was left to ponder the unspoken question: What did this mean for the future – and for my heart?