It was a foul ball that any first baseman worth his salt would have caught in less than four seconds. Hell, Danny caught it, and he was nearsighted, farsighted, and had an astigmatism to boot, but Pace found that looking into Holly’s wide, reveal-all eyes, he couldn’t take it away from her by saying so. Tough as she was, smart and cynical as she was, when she looked at him like that, he also saw a flash of vulnerability, and it scared him.

He didn’t want to be her soft spot.

So he turned from her and gestured to the guys to get into their positions. Since he couldn’t even toss the damn ball, let alone pitch to them for hitting practice, he sat on his ass on the sidelines nursing his damn shoulder like a baby while he called out directions. “River, watch that foot. Remember, your foot is your lead.”

And Jesus, now he sounded like Red.

Not a bad thing, he had to admit. He’d learned some of his best moves from Red, on and off the diamond. And it’d been from watching Red and Tucker together that he’d learned what a real father-son relationship should be like.

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He turned to look at Holly, who’d come to sit next to him. She’d been playing left field, but since no one could hit that far, it was a waste of her dubious talents. But that she’d even tried had been . . . entertaining. Her nose was sunburned, and she had more freckles coming out. “I’m not planning on being a dad in the near future,” he said as something clenched hard in his gut. “Unless you know something I don’t.”

“We used condoms, Pace. Don’t worry, I won’t show up with a baby and a request for a diamond ring.” She took a look at his face and shook her head. “Okay, I’m teasing you, but clearly I hit a nerve. Did someone try to tie you down?”

“No.”

She arched a brow, and he sighed. “I told you. I was with someone I gave brief thought to marrying, emphasis on the brief.”

“You actually got down on one knee and everything?”

“I was young,” he muttered when she grinned. “And I didn’t get down on one knee because I’d pulled my ACL that season. Which was part of the problem.”

“She dumped you because of a pulled ACL?”

“How do you know I didn’t dump her? Never mind,” he said when she opened her mouth. “Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work out. She refused to deal with me being gone for seven months out of the year, and I refused to quit playing ball. We were young and selfish, and love wasn’t enough. We broke up. Mutually.”

“It still sucked,” she guessed.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if you got hurt.”

“Part of life.”