Page 5 of Framing the Pitch (Red Dirt Romance #1)

Luella’ s is my favorite place in Texas. Which is ironic, since I also live and work in Texas, but nothing can compare to the little diner out in the suburbs of Denton that’s run by one of my favorite people.

The bell over the door dings as Trace and I push our way inside the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, and a deeply accented voice calls from the kitchen, “I’ll be right with ya! Go ahead and find a seat ya like!”

For brunch time on a Sunday morning, Luella’s is quiet. The only people here are regulars—most of them old-timers—and none of them even look in our direction as we find a booth near the back wall and settle onto the droopy benches.

Before I can grab one of the menus that’s tucked behind the napkin holder, Luella herself shows up at our table.

“Well, I’ll be!” Her smile is wide on her tanned face, smile lines a little deeper every time I see her.

The wild curls of her graying blonde hair are pulled up in a high bun, and her gray eyes sparkle with an inner light, like she knows the secret of being truly happy.

“If it isn’t my favorite professionals .

” Luella winks as she emphasizes the word .

The way she says it makes it sound like we’re hookers or something, and I cough to cover the laugh I’m trying to hold in.

“Hey Lou, it’s good to see you.” Trace ignores my sputtering and greets the owner of the restaurant like the old friend she is.

He seems happier this morning, and watching him relax makes me dread returning home just a little.

With our busy schedules that don’t line up often, I never get to spend as much time as I’d like with my best friend.

“You, too, sweetheart.” She throws another wink at Trace, and he blushes. Luella is in her early sixties, but she flirts with Trace like she’s twenty. She turns her attention to me. “I didn’t know you were in town. Hadn’t heard anything about any games lately.”

I shake my head. “I was just passing through on my way home from the college championships.” Luella nods as I continue. “The season starts tomorrow, so I’ve got to get back today, but I couldn’t leave without stopping by my favorite place.” I bat my eyes at her, not above a little brown nosing.

She bumps her hip against my shoulder before settling her weight onto one leg. “I’m glad you stopped by. I bet y’all are gonna take it this year. I can feel it in my bones.”

Luella played college softball back in the eighties when the shorts were short and the hair was big.

But pro softball wasn’t a thing back then, so after college, she married her sweetheart, and together, they started this diner.

She still keeps up with the college scene, and after I met her several years ago, she keeps an eye on the pro league as well.

“I don’t know; it’s been pretty back and forth between us and the Firebirds the last few years. But Alyssa Torres—Erica’s sister—signed with the Mayhem, so who knows what that’s going to do with the standings.”

Luella rocks back onto her other leg, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, that girl,” she sighs. “Alright, I’ve changed my mind. Mayhem all the way this year, baby.” We all laugh. “I tell you what, Naomi, that girl is something else. She’ll be a name that goes down in history, for sure.”

“Hey!” I exclaim, looking to Trace for backup, but he’s just content to watch me and Lou talk softball. “Multi-gold-medal winner here!”

“And a very good one, you are!” This time, she winks at me before turning to Trace. “Now, what can I get for y’all?”

“Coffee for both of us, Denver omelet with extra ham, hashbrowns extra crispy, and an extra side of bacon and sausage.”

Luella smiles, writing his order on her pad. She turns to me, and I dip my head down to look at the laminated menu.

“Hold on one moment.” I scan the menu quickly, trying to decide whether to try something new or order—

“She’ll have the stuffed french toast special with blueberry syrup. With scrambled eggs and bacon.”

I shoot a playful glare at Trace before tucking the menu away and looking back to Luella with a sweet smile. “What he said.”

Luella laughs and finishes noting down our orders.

“Alright, kiddos. I’ll be right back with your coffees, and it should just be a bit on the food.

” She graces us with one last bright smile before turning and shouting our orders to Archie, her husband who runs the kitchen like a less-swearing version of Gordon Ramsay.

Trace and I fall into our usual comfortable conversation—me telling him about the tournament and him telling me about minicamp.

Lou comes back with our plates of food and stays for a little bit of conversation about the championship tournament.

She laughs when I tell her that Trace got caught on the jumbotron and smiles fondly when I tell her about Alyssa’s final home run of her college career—a beautiful solo shot over center field.

Someone calls her name, and she sashays away to take care of her other guests.

Trace and I enjoy our food slowly and thoroughly before Luella makes her way back over with our checks. Trace snatches mine up with his, pulling out his wallet to pay for both our meals.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.” Trace’s eyes sparkle with trouble. “Lou, would you please make sure my card pays for both of these bills, no matter what Naomi says?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Luella smiles, but I lightly grab her wrist before she turns away. I hold out my card and make eye contact with her before saying, “Lou, I will get you and Archie front row tickets to whatever games you want this year if you’ll pay for both checks with my card.”

Luella side-eyes Trace before plucking my card out of my hand and tossing Trace’s onto the table. “Better luck next time, sweetheart,” she croons as she walks away, my card and our bills in hand.

“Luella! I can get you tickets, too!” It’s a half-baked effort on Trace’s part, and he knows it. The smile on his face says enough. Luella disappears around the counter, and Trace turns his attention back to me. “I can’t believe you bribed her!”

“All’s fair in love and war and paying for the bill.” I shoot Trace a smirk, and we wait for Luella to come back with the receipts.

“You got a game against the Mayhem in OKC?” Luella asks as I tuck away my card.

“Yeah, two series. I’ll make sure the front office gets you tickets to whichever game you want.”

Luella raps her knuckles against our table. “Lock this one down, Trace. She’s a keeper.”

“You say that every time, Lou,” Trace says with a shake of his head .

“I mean it.” She points a finger at Trace. “Because if you don’t, someone else will.”

While we indulge Luella’s teasing every time we come here, Trace always rebuts her efforts to pair us with a quick, “We’re just friends, Lou.” But as Luella walks away, and the two of us stand from the table, Trace is quiet.

“Well, I hope traffic’s not too bad on your way home today,” he finally says as we reach our cars.

Knowing we were going to part ways after our meal, we drove separately.

Trace leans back against his white truck—because what proper southern boy doesn’t have a truck?

—and looks me up and down. “I’ll try and make it to a few games this season. ”

I smile, knowing that means that he’ll be at every single one that takes place in Texas and Oklahoma, even though he’ll have to drive or fly to be there.

“I’m sure Lou would love to sit by you at the Mayhem games.” I laugh when Trace rolls his eyes. He opens his arms, and I step into them for one last goodbye before I head to the driver’s side of my car.

“Drive safe,” he mumbles into my ear as he squeezes me tightly, the embrace lasting longer than one of our usual goodbyes.

“You know I will.” It takes considerable effort to pull away and go to my own car. We’ve done this same goodbye dozens of times before, so why does this one feel…different?