“I’m tired of being alone.” Bram Rode carried his briefcase to the ballfield, then up to the third row of the short bleachers. Watching his son’s baseball practice would be so much more fun with someone to talk to.

He settled on the hard seat, one he’d grown accustomed to over the years, and observed the team at practice. Most of the players were in pairs in the outfield, tossing a ball between them, honing their skills at the game of catch.

Bram fiddled with the handle on his briefcase, but didn’t open the latch. Something about the sweat, dirt and excitement of baseball—it’d never left him. Even after so many years away from playing the sport himself, he simply needed those sensations, and it was like he was right back in the midst of one of his own games.

He caught sight of the coach and his breath lodged in his throat. Alan Klane. If ever there was a man who could be considered walking temptation, it was Coach. Alan carried himself with an air of confidence—what coach didn’t? But he was also muted. He didn’t seem to argue with the umpires over bad calls or with the players for errors.

Alan stood near the fence, speaking to another parent. He’d never said anything about Bram being present at the practices, but with the players being in the seventh grade, they all needed a means of transportation to head home after. For Bram, it was easy—he followed his son over to the fields after school concluded and worked on his mountains of paperwork. He could keep an eye on his son while indulging in the game he loved.

“Are you still working on something?” Alan asked.

He glanced over at the coach, half-surprised Alan had spoken to him. He’d been lusting over Alan for the better part of two years. “Always.”

Alan grinned. “Good to see you here.”

“Gotta keep an eye on them.” He flicked the tabs on his briefcase. Alan usually only spoke a few words to him, but when he did, the moment was never lost on Bram.

“They’re coming along.” Alan rested his elbows on the fence.

Alan might have been only a few yards away, but he felt a crackle. Bram shook his head. He had to be imagining things. It’d been so long since he’d flirted with someone. Was he even still any good at it?

The more he looked at Alan, the more he wanted to drool. He had strong, muscular corded arms. His smile brightened not only Bram’s afternoon, but could light a small city. The warmth was infectious.

“You’re always here watching,” Alan said. “Kaysen’s got a good arm.”

“He does,” he said. “Like yours.” Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

Alan laughed. He shook his head and walked away.

Bram bit back his embarrassment. He’d said things that construed as crossing the line with his son’s coach and now Alan had to think he was silly. But Alan did have nice arms. He’d bet Alan spent time in the batting cages at the sports complex he ran.

But so much for flirting. He massaged his forehead and plunked his briefcase on his lap. He should’ve known he’d be terrible at it. Chalk it up to being out of the dating pool for so long.

He pulled his tablet from his briefcase and fiddled with the sun guard, then read through his various emails. So many students in trouble, being referred to him, and not enough were getting notice for the academic prowess. He needed to change that climate at the school.

“Hey, Rode?”

He glanced up from the emails to see Alan at the fence again. Alan leaned on the chain link with one arm and crossed his ankles. He reminded Bram of a statue come to life.

If only he could have a chance with Alan. Maybe he’d find out what it was like to date a decent person. Christ, after his marriage that lasted way too long and ended in a colossal disaster, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be with someone else. He could’ve been the entire reason the marriage fell apart.

“Rode? Rode-y? Hey, Rode!” Alan rattled the chain. “I wanted you to see your kid pitch.”

Fuck. He was supposed to be paying attention, not getting lost in his thoughts about his ex.

Alan laughed. “Now will you look at me?” He grinned.

Alan’s grin sent warmth through Bram’s body. He bit back a groan and forced his gaze to Kaysen, his son. Kaysen stood on the mound, a steely look in his eyes and the ball in his glove. He gave a slight nod, then shook his head, before winding up for the pitch. Bram admired his son’s pitching form. He’d picked up a thing or two during their games of catch.

“He’s got a good arm. Better than mine,” Alan said. “He’s got talent.”

“He does.” He watched his son throw the ball and pride swelled in his heart. Kaysen had been learning. When Kaysen pitched again, Bram watched him more like a scout, wanting to improve Kaysen’s form. He could work with this, though. Kaysen had the talent, but needed refinement.

“Gonna have them run laps here in a moment for a cool down, then stretches.” Alan remained by the fence. “You got here late.”

He didn’t think Alan had noticed. “Was in a meeting.” There always seemed to be meetings.

“Yeah?” Alan turned his back on Bram, then spoke to the junior coach, Deion. Every few moments, he’d glance up at Bram and grin. It probably shouldn’t please Bram that much to know he was being seen, but it did. He liked the notice. He smiled back. Was that crackle he’d felt earlier getting stronger? His flirting senses could be dull, but it sure appeared Alan’s wink wasn’t just positive coaching. After a few moments, Alan returned his focus to the players.

Bram resumed reading his emails, but kept one ear tuned to Alan, in case the conversation started up again. He enjoyed their chatting, even if it was near the end of practice.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he looked up again. Seemed like he spent too many precious minutes on email when he could’ve been watching his son. His kid was growing up too fast. All kids did.

He shook his head and darkened the tablet screen. He’d shortchanged Kaysen enough and made the decision. It was time to pay his son more attention. He looked up, but the team was busy running laps around the warning track.

So much for watching him pitch.

He packed up, then ambled down the stands to the fence. “Looked good today, Coach.”

Alan finished speaking to Deion. “They did.” He joined Bram at the chain link. “You’ve been here every practice this year and I thought you’d forgotten today. Good to see you’re here.”

“I don’t like to miss it. It’s time with my son.” He placed the briefcase on the ground at his feet. “It’s one of the few things we can bond over.”

“Gotta have those things.” Alan leaned on the fence and his arm brushed against Bram’s. It was only a minor touch, and through the fabric of Bram’s dress shirt, but the slight brush seared Bram to his core.

Bram bit back a groan. He hadn’t been caressed by a lover or date or anyone in a remotely romantic way in so long. He had to stop thinking about Alan as dating material, but the possibility remained. “What do you have to have?”

It was a ridiculous question.

“What?” Alan asked. He inclined his head and grinned. “I’m sorry?”

“Never mind.” He had to gather himself. “When I get nervous, I don’t make much sense.”

“That’s not good for a principal, but I understand. It’s not easy when you’re flustered,” Alan said. “You don’t have to be with me.”

The reassurance in Alan’s words helped, but didn’t take much of the embarrassment away. “I meant, you’ve got to have things that you bond over. Do you eat, sleep and breathe baseball?”

“No.” Alan laughed again and patted Bram’s arm. “I have enough of that over at the sports club. I like baseball and it’s in my blood, but I’m not obsessed.”

“Probably good. Keeps you objective.” Dear God. Keeps you objective? He had to stop getting so involved in staff meetings and repeating the jargon. If this was how he flirted, it wasn’t good.

Alan’s smile grew in intensity. He patted Bram’s arm again. “I know you’re flustered, but it’s okay. I know what you mean. It’s nice to talk to someone about baseball, but it’s also nice to step away from it for a while. Keeps you fresh.”

“Yes.” He would to get there eventually.

He noticed the glint in Alan’s eyes and the crinkles at the corners. He had a dusting of hairs on his jaw, like he’d forgotten to shave, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he spoke. He had nice hands, too. Not gnarly from years of sports, but groomed, like he cared about his appearance. He didn’t even seem to have any tattoos, not that Bram minded. Ink didn’t bother him.

When he looked at Alan, an electric shock went through him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to enter the dating pool yet. It’d been three years since his divorce, but the more he swept his gaze over Alan and the more he tried to awkwardly flirt, the more he considered giving dating a try. Maybe Alan would be interested. 

It was worth the chance.

“I should go. I’ve got to round up the players and get them packed up to end practice,” Alan said. “I’ll see you at the next one?”

“Always.” He hated to miss them.

“Good. I like involved parents who give me space to do my job, but are invested in their kids,” Alan said. “Glad you’re at the school, too. You have a positive influence on the students.”

“Thanks.” This time, he touched Alan’s arm and swore his body tingled. He suppressed a whimper. “See you at the next practice?”

“You will. I never seem to leave here.” Alan grinned, then winked again and lingered another moment before walking away.

He stayed by the fence, almost disbelieving the moment had transpired between him and Alan. All the times he’d ogled him, he’d finally seen him and liked what he’d observed. Now that he’d had more of a chat with him beyond the simple greetings, he enjoyed Alan’s ability to put him at ease and fluster him at the same time. He’d love to have another conversation with him. Might even like to spend time with Alan outside of a team practice session.

If he wanted that to be possible, he’d have to make it happen.

Would someone question him? It probably didn’t look good for the coach and the principal to be involved, especially with Kaysen on the team. He preferred to conduct himself above reproach, but he was drawn to Alan.

Maybe Alan was just being nice and wasn’t drawn to him in return. Maybe the crackle was all in his head. That was a distinct possibility.

But Alan had given him hope. He wasn’t great at flirting, but not terrible, either. If he started putting himself out there and gave dating a try, he just might find the guy to share forever with. It might take a while. Not every man out there was looking for a long-term relationship. Alan might not want one.

Alan might not even be gay.

That settled it—he’d dip his toe into the dating pool. Not jump headlong into the deep end. He had a tendency to jump before he thought and hope the outcome would work, but this was too important to move too quickly.

Yes, he’d take his time and find the right person. Take a few chances. Go out on more than one date and see what happened. Even if he got his heart broken, it was time to give love another try.