Chapter 13
COLT
Lark is going to be the death of me.
She strips down to her undershirt that leaves very little to the imagination, then shrinks back like she’s going to run from me. That’s like waving a bright red flag at my beast. He loves the hunt and wants nothing more than to chase Lark, catch her, and rut her until she’s begging him to stop.
Which won’t be happening anytime soon. Not when there’s still so much she doesn’t know.
She’s lucky I didn’t bend her over her bike and show her just how much I like her tight little shirt and pants on her. I bet she’d whimper and whine so pretty for me when she’s pinned down and forced to take all of me.
And now I have a raging hard-on. Fucking great.
Discreetly adjusting myself, I place my hand on Lark’s lower back and try not to drown in her melted sugar and winter berry scent as we walk over to the field.
I also try to ignore how good she looks in my jersey.
The possessive part of me wants to demand that she always wear my clothes, but I’m not stupid.
I’d have to explain way more than I’m allowed to if I did that.
As much as Azrael’s decision on this frustrates me, I understand where he’s coming from. I just don’t think it’s the right move.
“Coach Colt! Finally, man. I thought we were gonna have to forfeit the game because our coach stood us up. What was so important that you’re fifteen minutes late?
” Oscar, one of the older boys on the team, heckles me when I step into the dugout.
His brown eyes widen when he sees Lark next to me.
“Ohhhh. I get it. I’d be late for that too. ”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m late because Coach Austin called out sick. Coach Lark agreed to help me out with you punks this afternoon, so be nice, Oscar.”
Oscar grins at me as he brushes his floppy brown hair out of his eyes. He then turns his megawatt smile on Lark. “It’s so nice to meet you, Coach Lark. Thank you for giving up your Saturday to spend with us. Me and all the other kids really appreciate it.”
Lark’s cheeks turn pink at Oscar’s thanks. “It’s no problem. I used to love watching and playing baseball as a kid, so I’m excited to help out today.”
“Davenport,” the ref barks. “Are we gonna start anytime in this century?”
“Yeah, yeah, Jones. I’ll be out on the plate in just a second.” Turning to the team, I look at the unofficial leaders—Silas, Oscar, and Violet. “Did everyone warm up? Do you need me to stall for time to get everyone ready? We’re the visiting team this time, so we’re up to bat first.”
Violet giggles and waves me off. “Don’t worry, Coach. The three of us managed warm-ups just fine, so we’re all ready to go. We were just waiting for you to get here so we can start.”
“You guys are rock stars.” I grin at the three of them and don’t miss how they flush at my praise.
They’re all really good kids and deserve to know how great they are.
It’s one of the best feelings in the world, getting these wounded and scared kids to trust me over time.
Turning to Lark, I ask, “You good here, Lark? I need to go meet the other coach on home plate for a sec.”
She gives me a slightly nervous smile before squaring her shoulders and nodding. “I’m good. Go do your thing, Colt.”
I resist the urge to pull her into my arms and drop a kiss on her forehead to reassure her. We’re not at that point yet, so I settle for reassuringly squeezing her arm.
Jogging out onto the field, I head over to Jones and the other coach, Meyers. He’s one of the good coaches who genuinely cares about his players.
Some of the other coaches get way too into Little League baseball and view winning as more important than the kids having fun and learning. I do my best to avoid playing against those teams, so it’s always nice to see that we’re playing against Meyers or similar coaches.
“Davenport, good to see you.” Meyers offers me his palm and gives me a warm handshake. “What’s it been, six months or so since we played last?”
“Good to see you too, Meyers. Yep, I think a little less than that since we last played in April.”
“Enough with the chitchat,” Jones grouses. The referee is in a perpetually sour mood. Even if I were on time, he’d still be like this. But he’s a damn good ref who cares about the kids, so I let his attitude slide. “Give me your rosters, and let’s go over the rules.”
We finish the pregame meeting in less than five minutes. With a last wave to Meyers, I jog back over to the dugout, hoping the kids haven’t overwhelmed Lark too much.
I can’t help my smile when I find the kids crowded around Lark. All of them are trying to talk to her at once, and she’s doing her best to pay attention to all fifteen of them. I can tell she’s a little overwhelmed by all the attention, though.
I clap my hands to get everyone’s attention.
“All right, team. We’re up to bat first, so find your batting order and get ready for your turn.
” As I’m talking, the kids form a semicircle around me.
When I’m done giving instructions, I stick my hand out, and they slap their hands in a messy pile on top of mine.
“On three. One, two, three! Go, Space Cowboys!”
The kids shout along with me before dispersing to look at the roster and get their bats and helmets.
Lark snorts at the team name, and I grin at her as I step into her space. When I rest one of my hands on her hip, she gasps and arches into me slightly. I have to hold in a growl and try to focus on anything other than how she reacts to me.
It takes a long moment to get myself under control. “I’m gonna be out by first base. You good in the dugout by yourself?”
“Yep,” she squeaks as she steps out of my hold. Running a hand over her chestnut hair, she blows out a breath. “I’m all good here. No need to worry about me.”
Dipping my chin, I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Awesome. Thanks again for helping out today.”
Spinning on my heel, I stalk out of the dugout before I do something I’ll regret. Like slam her against the chain-link and ravage her mouth.
“No problem,” she mumbles.
Even standing by first base, I don’t have any problem hearing her or the other kids. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the girls approach her.
“Your hair is so pretty,” Maeve whispers to Lark.
The little redheaded blue-eyed girl only started playing with our team a month or so ago. She’s still soft-spoken and shy, but I’ve already seen her open up to some of the older girls on the team. At ten, she’s one of the younger players, but she’s fitting in well.
Lark crouches down to be eye level with her. “Thank you. My hair has been thrown up in braids so much lately, I hardly remember what it looks like down.”
“My mama used to braid my hair for school every day.” Maeve’s lower lip wobbles as she looks at the ground. “Papa’s trying to learn, but he’s still not very good at it.”
Lark looks like her heart is breaking for the little girl for just a moment, but then she plasters an encouraging smile on her face.
“I could braid your hair for you, if you’d like?
I’m sure it won’t be as good as your mama’s, but I can do all sorts of braids—fishtail, French, Dutch, crown, and pretty much whatever you want.
” Maeve grins at Lark and bobs her head so vigorously, I’m worried she’s going to hurt herself.
Lark smiles down at her. “Do we have time right now? Or will you be up to bat soon?”
“Since I’m new to the team, I’m the last on the roster. I won’t be up to bat for a while. The older kids are really good at batting, so there should be time.”
Lark grins at her before pushing to her feet. She offers Maeve her hand and walks them both over to the bench. Once Maeve’s sitting next to her, Lark digs in her backpack for something. Then, she starts combing her fingers through Maeve’s wavy hair.
“What kinda braid do you want?”
“A crown braid, like a princess,” Maeve replies enthusiastically.
Lark chuckles. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Maeve closes her eyes as Lark begins arranging her hair in an intricate braid that starts on one side of her forehead. “Did your mama teach you to braid too? Mama tried to teach me, but I didn’t really get it.”
Lark gives her a bittersweet smile, and her deep green eyes fill with sorrow.
“It was my big sister, actually. She taught me when I was about your age. And any time I had a bad day, she’d climb into bed with me and start braiding my hair.
She’d always do the most elaborate designs as she let me talk, cry, or just process silently.
Those are some of my favorite memories with her. ”
“You’re lucky to have a big sister. All I have is an annoying little brother.” Maeve’s lips twist in disgust at the thought of her younger brother.
I huff a laugh because I get it. Younger bros are annoying as fuck sometimes. I love Remy and Wes, but, some days, I want to strangle them.
Lark’s lips tremble before she blows out a breath and smooths her expression. “I am, yeah. And I have a younger brother too. They’re the worst.”
Maeve giggles, and she and Lark talk and laugh for the rest of the inning, even after Lark finishes braiding her hair. The other kids gravitate over to Lark as well, and soon, the dugout is filled with laughter.
By the time the inning is over, I’m itching to get back to talk to Lark more. I’ve barely paid attention to the game, too focused on watching her. At least the team is doing well so far with four runs for our first at bat.
As I’m jogging back to our side, my players take their places on the field. I give them each a nod of encouragement or a pat on the back before I enter the dugout.
The six remaining kids are chatting animatedly with each other, giving Lark a break from their constant attention. Walking over to her, I sit down on the bench next to her.
She looks up at me and offers me a smile. “Hi.”
“Hey. How are you liking coaching so far?”