~35~
Practice Day McCarty made his regularly scheduled appearance on Monday, and I had to admit to a sizeable pang of disappointment. I was an idiot to expect anything different, and I gave myself a good talking to at home plate while Emmett worked on fielding.
"Coach, what's 'smug bastard' mean?"
"Smug . . .? Oh, um, that was 'swung faster,' Jake. You'd have hit the ball farther if you'd have swung faster."
The kid gave me a dumb stare but hit the cover off the next one.
Emmett stuck out his glove and snagged the ball just before it reached Bree's nose.
Author's Note: If I'd had a few more words to spare, I would've shown you the image I have of Emmett right now: arm extended out of pure reflex to catch that ball, eyes glued to Edward, mouth dropped open in surprise...and then just the tiniest hint of smile as Emmett recognizes he's getting to Edward big time. Yeah that's all cheating because I didn't write it...SUE ME!
XXX ~BOH
