Chapter 6 #2
I can't hold back the chuckle when I walk in. If there was ever a definition of organized chaos, this is it.
Heather sits on top of the large desk at the front, arms braced on the edge and legs swinging back and forth as she chats with the teacher.
The wide tables have been rearranged in a circle around the room, and in the center sits Violet on a pile of mats with Cookie in her lap.
Her classmates surround her, all vying for a chance to pet the spoiled corgi, who is also wearing a tiara.
I snort. How fitting. If there's ever been a dog who believes she's royalty, it's Cookie.
At the sound, Heather and Ms. Campbell turn their heads.
“Welcome to the party, Logan,” Heather teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Glad I made it,” I joke back as I stroll toward her. “The only thing not here is cake.”
“Aww… Darn it!” She snaps her fingers. “We ate it all. Sorry, buddy. You snooze, you lose.”
“Guess you'll have to make it up to me,” I suggest, deliberately lowering my voice.
Her cheeks flush pink at my tone, and satisfaction surges through me. I love that I can make this sassy, quick-witted woman momentarily speechless.
“Hi Uncle Logan!” Violet calls out, and I turn to wave. Even Cookie deigns to glance my way, giving me what I'd swear is a huge puppy grin. I consider that a win. Most days, the corgi completely ignores me, focusing entirely on her new best friend. And honestly, I'm okay with that.
“Hey there, sweetpea. Are you having fun?”
She bobs her head, practically glowing with happiness. It might be the happiest I've seen her.
“They won't be much longer, Mr. Maddox,” Ms. Campbell assures me, her voice a little shaky. For some reason, I seem to make the young teacher nervous and I have no idea why.
“No rush.” Leaning my hip against the desk next to Heather, I add, “I was worried I'd be running late.”
“Oh no. Even if you were, we'd keep Violet until you got here.”
“I appreciate that.” I turn to Heather. “Is this another one of your outreach initiatives?”
Her face brightens with a small grin. “I've been known to make school visits from time to time, but this was a special request from a certain student.” Heather nods toward the center of the room. “Cookie's been holding court for close to an hour now.”
“She looks like she's enjoying herself.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Heather glances toward the teacher. “Ms. Campbell and I were just talking about the artisan market this weekend. Her family owns the dance studio in town and they're planning some demonstrations. Violet might enjoy it.”
“Good idea.” I lean in closer. “My marketing team wants me in a pie-eating contest.”
Something warm curls in my chest as Heather laughs. “That's perfect for you. I think you could take down any competition.”
“It's a hell of a lot better than their original suggestion.” I pat my stomach. “Just gotta squeeze in a good run beforehand to prepare.”
“Oh, please.” Heather pokes my abs, and I feign offense. “Like you have an ounce of fat on that body.”
So she's been noticing my body... Interesting.
“Hey, maintaining these abs takes work. And considering I've had dessert almost every night since moving here…” I give her a meaningful look. “I need all the help I can get.”
Heather grins, her legs swinging faster. “Yeah, well, if you're fishing for a compliment, big guy, you're barking up the wrong tree.”
“Who said anything about needing compliments?” I place a hand over my heart in mock offense. “I'm simply stating the truth. I ate almost that entire tray of brownies you made last night. You realize how many calories that was? And that came after two massive servings of your mac and cheese.”
“Told you,” she teases. “Grandma's recipes never miss.”
Our eyes lock and hold for several seconds until Ms. Campbell coughs delicately. “Um, excuse me. I think I'll have the children wrap things up now,” she says with a sly smile before turning to her class.
Heather bumps me with her shoulder. “So what was the original idea?”
“Huh?”
Her smirk deepens. “You said the pie contest was way better than what they first suggested. What was it?”
“A dunk tank.”
Her laugh rings out, filling the classroom, and I find myself laughing with her. “That was a hard pass for me.”
“But why not?” she teases, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I would've paid good money to watch you take an ice bath.”
I straighten and point at her. “Exactly! There would've been a line wrapped around the block just waiting to dunk me.”
“Oh, come on. It would be for charity.” She swats my chest playfully. “You're the most popular guy in town right now. It wouldn't be malicious, just good fun.”
“It's less about public humiliation and more about the freezing water,” I counter. “I’ll do just fine in a pie-eating contest, thank you very much. Though honestly, some of the guys on my roster will probably eat circles around me. Those kids can put away a serious amount of food.”
“I still think it's a missed opportunity. But I can't argue with you there.” She shivers dramatically. “An ice bath sounds miserable. Although I wouldn't mind seeing the mayor take a dunk. He can be kind of a tool sometimes.”
“I’ve noticed,” I say dryly.
A small hand tugs at my shirt, and I glance down to find a young boy standing next to me, clutching what appears to be a drawing.
“Mr. Maddox. Would you sign my picture?” He holds it up, and I grin when I recognize the ball field he's drawn.
“Absolutely!” I take the picture carefully and lay it on the desk, reaching for a pen. “What’s your name, buddy?”
“Max.” The kid's not much bigger than Violet, but he's got a presence about him that's impressive for a four-year-old. His chest puffs out with pride. “I wanna be a baseball player like you.”
Something warm settles in my chest. “Well, that's great, Max.” I sign a little note for him and hand it back. “Don't give up on that dream.”
The boy stares at the picture like it's made of gold. “I won't,” he whispers before turning and slowly walking back to his table, where he carefully lays it out and gazes at it in wonder.
“Oh my god.” Heather's hand closes around my arm. “I just had the best idea.”
I use it as an excuse to shift closer. “I'm listening.”
“What if you and the team held a youth baseball program, like a winter camp? For kids in the area. The exposure for The Rockets would be fantastic.”
I look at her, amazed all over again. Heather is fucking brilliant. Not that I needed reminding. “That's genius.” I stroke my chin thoughtfully. “We'd have to clear it with legal, but I'll pitch it to Melody tomorrow.”
“She's your marketing manager, right? I met her and Henry during the ticket drive at the library.” She nudges me playfully. “They're both pretty sharp. You made good choices there.”
“The board hired them from Chicago about six months ago to help turn things around.” I nudge her right back. “Actually, she was raving about you in our meeting today.”
“Really? What'd she say?”
“That all your ideas have been gold. Apparently they'd been spinning their wheels for months, and you gave them the breakthrough they needed.”
Her smile widens. “Well, that's awesome.”
“So where are we having dinner tonight, your place or mine?” I ask. It might come across as needy, but I don't care anymore. This routine we've established, spending our evenings together, has become something I crave. It brings a kind of peace I can't really describe.
Her head tilts slightly, and my gaze immediately drops to the elegant line of her neck.
I wonder if her skin tastes as good as I imagined it back in high school.
Teenage me was all raging hormones and fantasy, but adult me genuinely wants to find out.
I want to press my lips against that soft skin and drag them down to where her neck curves into her shoulder, maybe leave a visible mark that she's mine.
I suppress a grin. That would definitely set Pelican Point tongues wagging.
“You said you wanted to grill tonight, remember?”
“Oh shit!” I straighten quickly. She's totally right, and I haven't prepared anything. The steaks are still rock solid in the freezer and the grill's still wrapped in plastic in the shed. “Yeah, you're right. We should get going.”
I turn to the group of kids. “Violet, we've got to go, sweetpea.”
Violet's face falls, disappointment evident, and she sighs but gives me a small nod. The sadness in her expression tugs at my heart.
“Cookie and I can bring her home while you get everything ready,” Heather offers. “We need to stop back by the library, so it'll take us an hour or so.”
I hesitate. It's not the first time someone's watched Violet for me, but it would be the first time Heather has. Something about crossing that line makes me uncertain, like I'm asking too much or taking advantage of her kindness. “Are you sure? I don't want to put you out.”
“Are you kidding?” Heather scoffs. “Violet helps me keep Cookie in line. Don't you, honey?”
“Yeah!” Violet jumps in the air to emphasize her point, and I have to bite back a laugh.
“We'll be perfectly fine. Stop worrying.” She leans closer, her lips looking entirely too tempting. “But fair warning, we might stop for ice cream on the way home.”
I chuckle, suddenly wishing I was going with them instead of rushing home to wrestle with the grill.
“Then you better bring me some.”