Laura tapped the metal bat against home plate, then raised it to her shoulder. Stepping into Ted’s baseball practice was probably a terrible idea. The potential for him to get the wrong idea was huge. But she did like baseball, and just because she wasn’t in Ted’s dating league didn’t mean she wasn’t in his sporting league. And it certainly didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends.

The last thought zipped through her head as Scott lobbed a soft pitch her way. Oh, you have got to be kidding. She swung at it, made contact with a satisfying smack, and sent the ball sailing far, far over the heads of the guys practicing in the outfield. She heard a whistle or two as a few of them stopped to watch the ball’s progress.

“Come on, Scott.” She smirked at her boss as she’d smirked at every guy who’d underestimated her batting skills. “Save that garbage for little league. Pitch something good.”

Out on the mound, Scott laughed as he turned to catch the returning ball, thrown by an outfielder. “I should have known.”

“Yeah, you probably should have.” Laura laughed along with him, hoping he didn’t think she was gloating. But if she had a dime for every time a guy underestimated her, she could buy a Big Mac.

She settled into batting stance again as Scott screwed up his face in mock seriousness. As soon as she was ready, he threw another pitch, this one harder than the last, but still easy to hit. Once again, the ball went sailing out into center field.

“Really?” she said, dropping her shoulders and the bat. Her hip jutted out to the side, and she shook her head.

Scott broke into laughter once again. “Where did you learn to play ball?”

“Little league,” she answered with a smile. “My team made it to the regional semi-finals when I was thirteen.”

Behind her, Ted let out a long, low whistle. Instantly, Laura tensed in self-consciousness. She risked a sideways look only to find Ted leaning against the side of the fence behind her, arms crossed, lips pulled up in an impressed grin. Her arms decided that was a good time to go weak, and her innards started doing the cha-cha.

“Give her everything you’ve got,” the catcher—she was pretty sure his name was Carlos—called to Scott. “I want to see if she can hit it.”

You could have if you hadn’t remembered Mr. Perfect Cowboy was watching, she thought, resuming her batting stance and trying her best to regain focus. Good grief, he’s probably staring at your ass.

The ball went whizzing past her with enough speed to shave the hair off a fly. She stood stock still as it passed, thunking into Carlos’s glove.

“Sorry, sorry.” She popped out of batting stance, shaking her head. “My mind was somewhere else. Could you throw that one again?”

Carlos tossed the ball back to Scott, who was grinning as if he guessed exactly where Laura’s thoughts had scattered to.

“Sure thing,” Scott said. “But if you miss this one, I reserve the right to tease you about it for a week.”

Behind her, Ted laughed. Laura’s skin broke out in goose flesh. He wouldn’t be laughing if he knew what Scott was talking about. That in itself was enough to force her to concentrate. She barely heard Ted’s shout of “Go get ’em, slugger!” before Scott wound up and threw another genuine fastball.

By some blessed miracle from above, all the distractions poking at Laura narrowed down to the ball zooming at her. She swung and made contact. The metallic crack of the bat was matched by the jolt and sting of hitting something thrown with so much force. Lucky for her, the ball went flying through the air, far over the heads of the guys who had stopped their practice in the outfield to watch her attempt. Two of them wheeled back and ran for the low wall at the back of the baseball field. Their efforts were in vain, though, as the ball fell into the bushes behind the wall.

“That’s it,” Carlos said, standing and throwing out his arms. “You’re on the team. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Laura blushed down to the roots of her hair and turned to him with a bashful smile. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather enjoy Haskell baseball from the stands.”

“That was amazing.” Ted rushed forward, eyes wide, mouth open in shock. “Carlos is right, you really need to join the team.”

“Or play for the PSF team, once we get one organized,” Scott added, walking in from the mound to join the conversation. “Next year.”

“Oh, really, I couldn’t.” Laura waved them off, bristling with discomfort over the attention she was getting. “I’m really not as good at all that. My fielding sucks. I can’t run worth squat due to an old war wound.” Only Ted would know she wasn’t joking about that one. “Plus, I’m super out of practice.”

“Then stay and practice with us,” Ted rushed to tell her. His expression lit up with enthusiasm, and he leaned toward her. “I’ll keep an eye on that old war wound. No pressure or anything.”

Ha! Right. No pressure playing ball with a guy you like.

Laura blinked rapidly at the stray thought. She liked Ted?

She sighed inwardly. Yeah, she liked Ted. No point pretending otherwise.

“As your boss, I could order you to stay and practice,” Scott said, trying to look serious but failing miserably.

“Ha! I don’t think so.” She cuffed his arm. “It’s after hours.”

“Please stay,” Ted said. A new kind of eagerness warmed his expression. “It’ll be fun.”

Laura swallowed, her insides dancing a nervous jig. If she was honest with herself, she did want to stay. But with Ted there…the way he was smiling at her…the breathless, wriggly feeling that gave her…could she really do it? Without making a fool of herself?

“Okay,” she said at last, breathing out in mock defeat that held genuine resignation behind it. “I’ll practice with you. But just for fun. Don’t get your hopes up about anything else.” She sent Ted a particularly sharp look.

“Great.” Scott clapped her on the back like one of the guys.

“Go grab a glove and practice catches with Ted,” Carlos directed her. “I’ll keep an eye on you and give you pointers.”

Somehow, through the excitement skittering through her, Laura managed not only to find a glove small enough to fit her, but she also walked out onto the field by Ted’s side without tripping over herself or saying something stupid. And as she caught and threw the ball, her muscle memory kicked in, saving her the embarrassment of dropping the ball or falling over. And really, it wasn’t so bad. Ted gave her a few pointers without drawing her into conversation. Bit by bit, she relaxed and came around to enjoying the moment instead of worrying about what happened at the engagement party and what could happen next.

At last, the early-summer evening light began to fade to the point where Carlos called an end to practice. Laura helped the rest of the team gather up equipment and haul it to Carlos’s minivan. Some of the other guys complimented her on her skills, which made it easier to accept Ted’s compliments as they walked away from the field and toward the heart of town together.

“All that from little league?” he asked as they turned onto Main Street.

“Well, we used to play a bit in the Army too. When I was recovering from that shrapnel, the guys would have me hit to them so they could practice catches.”

His brow scrunched. “Wouldn’t that still hurt your leg?”

“Yeah, a little, but I just ignored it.”

Ted laughed and shook his head. “You ‘just ignored’ the pain of what I’m assuming were stitches from shrapnel wounds to hit balls for other recovering soldiers?”

“Not, like, the day after my surgery,” she explained as they passed the Silver Dollar saloon, Haskell’s oldest bar. “More like a few weeks later, when I was in Germany.”

“Germany. I see.” Ted’s grin was teasing, but for the life of her, Laura couldn’t figure out what he was teasing her about. Before she could ask, he nodded to a shop across the street, farther down toward the old train station. “I’m gonna stop for ice cream. You want some?”

She answered, “Sure,” before she could stop to second guess herself. Because who would say no to ice cream on a warm summer night after baseball practice?

Of course, as soon as they crossed the street and joined the line at the ice cream shop’s window, Laura winced. “Shoot. I don’t have my wallet with me.”

“I got it.” Ted grinned, taking a step forward as the kids at the window moved away with their cones. “What do you want?” he asked, then immediately followed with, “Let me guess. Banana split.”

Laura laughed. “How about a small chocolate cone.”

“You’re on.” Ted winked, setting Laura completely off-balance. He turned to the teenager working the window and said, “A small chocolate cone and a pralines & cream cone,” before she could choke or spontaneously combust.

It gave her just enough time to gather her senses. “Pralines & cream?” She made an impressed expression. “Fancy.”

“What can I say?” He grinned, handing a few bills to the teen. “I may not have traveled the world, but I have fancy tastes.”

He was joking. Teasing even. It didn’t mean anything. Friends did that with friends, Laura reminded herself. And maybe he was a little intimidated by how much of the world she’d seen. Good. That would rule out asking her on a date in his mind, and she could stop worrying.

Really. Any time now.

The teen handed Ted two cones, and Ted handed the chocolate one to her as they stepped away from the window. There were several picnic tables on and around the old train platform, but Laura and Ted wandered across the bridge spanning the old, rusted tracks, ambling into the south side of Haskell. Laura licked around the bottom of her ice cream in a methodical fashion, preventing any drips from forming.

“So what exactly happened in that IED explosion that landed you in a military hospital with shrapnel?” Ted asked as they walked on.

Ironically, Laura relaxed. He definitely wouldn’t ask her something so gruesome and personal if he was still interested in dating her. “A jeep drove over the IED several yards in front of me. The blast was close enough to hit me, but not close enough to obliterate me.”

“Lucky,” Ted said, then took a bite of ice cream from the top of his cone.

“Yeah, a hell of a lot luckier than the guys in the jeep.”

Ted stopped cold, the color leaving his face. “Did they…”

Laura just nodded. She’d worked hard to forget that day. She hadn’t known the guys who were killed, but they had all been affected by it. That wasn’t the first time she’d lost someone, though, and while it hadn’t made the whole thing easier to cope with, it meant she hadn’t been as messed up about it as some of the other guys in her platoon had been. Instant death had been far better than watching her brother suffer through round after round of chemotherapy on the way to a slow and painful death from cancer.

She drew in a breath and shook her head. “You live on and enjoy your life because they can’t. It’s the best tribute you can give someone.” She took a fortifying lick of ice cream.

She expected Ted’s horrified expression to linger, but instead it resolved into something tender and filled with grief. “Yeah, I lost my mom a year and a half ago, and you’re right.” They continued walking, inching closer together, tongues slurping out to lick cones. “Mom would have wanted me to keep going.”

“Yeah, Blake would have wanted the same for me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “One of the guys in the jeep?”

“No, my brother,” she said.

Ted winced. “Your brother died too?”

She nodded. “Leukemia. He was twelve.”

“Shit.”

“Honestly, that’s why I joined the Little League team back home. Because he couldn’t. He used to love coming out to watch me, even after he lost all his hair and had to get Dad to carry him from the car and—” She swallowed hard, not even chocolate ice cream taking the bitter taste from her mouth. “Could we talk about something else?” she asked with a wry laugh.

“Absolutely.” Ted smiled, and went on with an overenthusiastic, “So, dinosaurs, eh?”

Laura’s laughter took on a more relaxed tone. “I love them. That’s all.”

The teasing returned to his eyes. “Wanna come out to the ranch to see my dinosaur?”

She stopped and turned to him with a flat stare. “Is that some kind of euphemism?”

He snorted as he took another bite off the top of his ice cream, then wiped his mouth with his free hand. The gesture sent shivers down Laura’s spine, so she deliberately looked away.

“No, I mean, we actually have a dinosaur bone on our ranch.”

She snapped her head back to him, brows rising. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He continued walking with an off-handed shrug. “It’s been out there in the field for as long as I can remember. Just a part of it is sticking up out of the ground. Well, not sticking up. It looks more like a long rock.”

“You have a dinosaur fossil on your property?” Laura’s heart began to race over something that wasn’t Ted’s heat, spicy scent, and flickering tongue beside her.

“It probably is just a rock. Or an old cow bone. Who knows how many cows died out there in the hundred and fifty years the ranch has been running.”

“But it could be a fossil,” she went on, buzzing with the possibility.

“I suppose it could be.” Ted licked a drip of ice cream that threatened to run over his fingers. Laura’s full attention zoned in on his mouth. Parts of her tensed up with longing. “There are a lot of fossil sites in Wyoming, after all.”

“What?” She blinked hazily at his tongue. A moment later, she shook herself. “I mean, yeah, there are.”

“So, you should come check it out,” Ted went on between licks around his melting ice cream. He seemed to know what he was doing with his mouth.

“Mmm.” It was the only response she could manage.

Ted chuckled. “Come check out my bone.” Laura had to fight not to let her eyes drop to his crotch. “Now that’s a euphemism.”

She tried to laugh along with him, but the sound coming out of her was more like a prolonged, airy moan. “Yeah, I’ll have to do that.”

A cold, sticky sensation hit her fingers. She blinked and looked down at the rivulets of melted chocolate ice cream running across her hand. It came as something of a surprise that she was still holding her cone at all. She’d managed to completely forget about it while watching Ted’s tongue.

Pull yourself together, she warned herself with a shake of her head.

“This is my apartment,” she said, nodding up at the building in front of them.

“Oh. So you took Howie up on his employee housing thing?”

“Yep,” she answered, glad to talk about something that wasn’t a euphemism for things she would spend the rest of her night obsessing about. “This is it. And it’s been really handy to live above a hardware store.” She paused, feeling more awkward than usual when he didn’t immediately answer her comment. “I should probably go up. It’s getting dark.”

“When do you want to come out to the ranch?” he asked.

She should have said never. But how could you possibly resist the lure of Ted’s bone? His dinosaur bone, that was.

“Saturday?” she suggested.

“Sounds good.” He sent her a lop-sided smile that made her wish it was Friday night instead of Tuesday. “Well, thanks. This was a great date.”

“Wait, what?” Laura blinked hard, instantly back to full alert. “This wasn’t a date.”

“Sure it was.” Ted’s grin grew and his eyes flashed.

“It wasn’t.”

“Of course it was. I bought you food, we talked, we engaged in an activity together.”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Okay, then how about we go out for a real date? Like dinner on Saturday after you check out the non-euphemistic potential dinosaur fossil at the ranch?”

Her mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. Dangit, he’d taken her by surprise again. “No thanks. Let’s just stick to fossils,” she blurted before she could really stop and consider.

He arched a brow and narrowed his eyes in a way that was both teasing and scolding. “I’m going to wear you down eventually.”

“No, you aren’t,” she said, as much for the fun of arguing with him as because of the weirdness of him wanting to.

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you—” She let out a hissing breath. “I’ll come out to your ranch to look at your non-euphemistic potential dinosaur fossil on a platonic basis only on Saturday. That’s it.”

Ted heaved a showy sigh. “All right. I’ll take what I can get. For now.”

She nodded in mock seriousness. Just because she was freaked out by his attempts to ask her out didn’t mean she couldn’t joke with him too. She did manage a smile, though. “And thanks for the ice cream. I’ll treat you sometime, if only to prove it wasn’t a date.”

“I—” Ted stopped, his shoulders dropping, shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll let you continue to think that. Until Saturday, then.”

“Until Saturday,” she repeated, then started past him toward her apartment door. She managed to get the key in the lock, turn it, and push open the door before peeking back over her shoulder to see if he was still there.

He was absolutely still there. He smiled and saluted her with what was left of his ice cream cone. She returned the gesture, then scrambled into the safety of her apartment, her heart pounding. Ted Flint and his bone. There was no way she couldn’t giggle over that.