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who lied and
said she tripped. But she also didn’t feel like discussing the
truth with him, either. “You’re supposed to tell me I look
ravishing tonight.”
    “You do—but I’m going to kill him for
touching you.”
    “I know you’re the expert on this kind of
thing, but I’m pretty sure the law would frown on that.”
    “You’re not that funny.”
    “But I’m cute. Come on, admit it. You think
I’m cute.”
    “Yeah, I do think you’re cute,” that dimple
of his flashed again as he grudgingly gave in. “I just don’t like
seeing you hurt.”
    He reached out to stroke her cheek with his
thumb. She couldn’t help leaning into his touch. It felt so warm,
so sure.
    They wound up watching a romantic comedy.
Well, sitting in a theater that was showing a romantic comedy.
Mostly they watched each other.
    After the movie, they went back to the little
diner. Jessie knew she couldn’t eat like this too many nights in a
row or she’d gain a million pounds. At that thought, she paused to
toy with the idea of gaining so much weight Spence wouldn’t want
her. She quickly tossed it aside as too simple a solution. He’d
probably put her on a bread and water diet the minute he suspected
what she was up to.
    They were careful to leave the diner in
plenty of time to get her home before curfew. She’d even grown
accustomed to him opening doors for her and paused at her door
while he unlocked the car. Only instead of opening the door, he
took her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers.
    The kiss was gentle, reverent almost. It made
her want to weep. It made her want to sing for joy. It was over as
quickly as it began, although she could still feel it the entire
ride home.
     
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    The next night he took her to see the Cards.
She’d never been to a ballgame before. He brought her an Albert
Pujols shirt and a red baseball cap with a cardinal on it. They
drank ridiculously expensive beer and ate nachos with the works.
They sang and clapped and shouted and cheered.
    As much as Jessie loved watching the game, as
dearly as she enjoyed his company, what she couldn’t get over was
the feeling that she belonged to this enormous group of bustling,
happy people. She wasn’t on the outside looking in; she was right
in the thick of the moment. And she couldn’t stop smiling.
    “You look amazing tonight,” he told her quite
solemnly after they finished jumping and screaming over a Pujols
homerun.
    “I feel amazing,” she laughed as she stood on
tiptoe to kiss him. “Thank you.”
    “I like seeing you smile,” he kissed her
bruised cheek and she sobered briefly. He’d gotten a few dirty
looks from people who assumed he’d done that to her. She wanted to
crawl in a hole whenever it happened—the last thing she wanted was
for him to experience one moment of discomfort because of her.
    Seventh inning stretch shifted her attention
back to the moment and she sang “Take me out to the Ballgame” with
the rest of the stadium, then made a beeline to the bathroom with
the rest of the women in the stadium.
    As she neared the line, a familiar face
caught her attention. It was another of Spence’s girls, hanging off
the arm of an older man. Something in her eyes said she knew
Jessie’s face but couldn’t place from where.
    Jessie ducked behind a large man and walked
beside him a bit before veering off to weave her way back to Gabe.
Her heart pounded a thousand miles an hour in her chest, but she
tried to appear calm as she slid into the seat beside him.
    “Are you okay?” Concern etched his face the
moment he saw her.
    “Absolutely.”
    “You’re a lousy liar. What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. The line was really long, so I
didn’t wait.”
    “So the pained look is because you have to
pee?”
    “Don’t be crass.”
    “What? Something’s wrong. If you won’t tell
me then I have to guess.”
    “I really do hate you sometimes.”
    “I think that’s Jessie-code for ‘I’m really
crazy