Making the Play by T. J. Kline Read Free Book Online Page B

man,” Grant said, laughing at James’ infectious excitement. “A large pepperoni and cheese. Make that light on the sauce and heavy on the cheese with as thick a crust as you can.”
    â€œWill that be all?” Billy gave James a mock glare, sending the boy into peals of laughter again as he shook his finger at James. “You just wait until next time,” he warned.
    â€œI always beat you, Billy.”
    â€œNot next time. You want the usual drinks, Bethany? I can bring them over in a ­couple minutes.”
    Grant looked at her, confused and shrugged. “Sure.”
    â€œYou’re awfully daring. How do you know it’s not all the soda flavors mixed into one pitcher?” She turned and headed toward a nearby table and slid into the booth.
    â€œAh,” Grant said on a long, nostalgic sigh. “Long live the suicide soda.” He slid James into the booth beside his mother and took the seat across from them.
    â€œIt’s nothing that bad, just cola and root beer mixed,” she informed him.
    James was like a human jumping bean on the seat, unable to still his little body. “Can I go play video games?”
    â€œPuh—­” Bethany began.
    â€œPlease,” he added quickly.
    â€œYes, you can.” Bethany reached into her purse and pulled out several dollars. “You remember how to get change?”
    Grant had never seen a kid so young give a look of such teenage condescension but James pulled it off without a hitch. “I know, Mom.”
    â€œOkay, James.” She mimicked his tone with a laugh and, shaking her head, turned back to Grant, rolling her eyes.
    â€œHe’s got to be the coolest kid I’ve ever met.”
    â€œYeah, he’s pretty great,” she agreed, her eyes filled with affection for her son as she watched him run to the change machine. “Mr. McQuaid, I just wanted to apologize again for yesterday. James doesn’t usually take off that way but he loves football and when he saw you and your brother playing, ­coupled with the fact I wouldn’t let him play at recess . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t want to even think about what could have happened.” He could see even the idea left her shaken. “And, while you probably don’t understand what it means to him for you to have played at the park with him today, it means a lot to me.”
    Grant opened his mouth to tell her how he’d been happy to do it, how he’d like to do it again, but she didn’t give him the opportunity to speak.
    â€œBut I hope you don’t have the wrong idea.”
    â€œWrong idea,” he repeated. He had a sinking suspicion he knew where this conversation was leading.
    â€œJames is a great kid and he’s easy to like. It’s also not hard to see that he’s my life and I’d do anything to make him happy, which you know because you used it to your advantage to get us here. But I’m not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this . . .” She sighed as she searched for whatever word she might be looking for to describe the torture she looked like he was putting her through.
    â€œDon’t say date . It’s not one—­you said so yourself.” He couldn’t help himself, any more than he could help the grin that lifted one corner of his mouth. “Relax, okay? This is not a date. I get it. You aren’t looking for a relationship and neither am I. Message received loud and clear. But I do like your kid and there’s nothing wrong with the three of us being friends, is there?”
    She narrowed her eyes skeptically, searching his expression. “I guess not,” she finally agreed.
    â€œGood because I had fun with him today.” Grant looked at the boy intent on the video game and furiously pounding at the buttons on the ancient machine. “I was surprised he knew as much about football as he did. Does he play for a team