Sighing happily, Paisley watched Zeke field balls with easy confidence as the infielders warmed up. The guys headed to the dugout, and Zeke stared into the stands, as had become his habit, looking for her.
Zeke saluted her with his hat as he stood near a group of players in front of the dugout. His smile spread across his face in genuine pleasure at seeing her. She sat up straighter, tossed her hair over one shoulder, and smiled back. His teammates elbowed him and gave him shit as guys did, but he didn’t seem to mind in the least. His grin never wavered.
Paisley preened a little under the envious glances cast her way from nearby women. She smiled sweetly at them. The men looked her up and down appreciatively and traded remarks with their buddies. Paisley ignored the men. Zeke wouldn’t appreciate a flirt. Why tempt fate by being an idiot? She had the best man in the ballpark, and she wasn’t going to screw that up.
The kids sat in a line on either side of her. Brayden and his friend were on the aisle side with their baseball caps pulled low over their eyes in imitation of Zeke, their mitts clutched in their little hands.
On the other side sat Sadie and Sophie. Sophie bounced up and down in her seat, singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” over and over again. Sadie sat closest to Paisley, quietly singing along with Sophie and munching on popcorn.
“Paisley, we were hoping to run into you this afternoon.”
Paisley froze. She knew that voice. She glanced toward the field, grateful Zeke had his back to her as he headed for the locker room. Faking a welcoming smile, she turned in her seat to acknowledge Emma and Avery, surprised to find them alone.
“Hi,” she said briefly and turned back to face the field. Zeke wouldn’t want her talking to them, and she didn’t really want to test his patience, not when they were about to live like a real family.
She was moving upstairs and moving in with Zeke, and she wouldn’t do anything to screw that up. Things were going too well. The sex was great, the conversation was great, and he’d become her best friend and confidant. She’d not just fallen for him, she was almost certain she was in love with him. Not like all those other guys, but truly, deeply in love. He treated her like a princess, gave her whatever she wanted, and could be so hot and tender in bed. He had to be feeling the exact same way. Men often needed more time to figure it out. In her experience, they could be slow on the uptake. Optimist that she tried to be, she put faith in her ability to show him how perfect they were together.
Paisley was slowly breaking down the barriers he’d painstakingly put around his emotions. She could wait as long as it took. Patience would be her ally when it came to this closed-off man. Still, he held back the most important part of himself, but they’d get there.
“I’m so excited you’ll be attending our wedding,” Avery said with a friendly smile. Emma nodded her agreement.
“Yes, we’ll be there. We’re looking forward to it.” Paisley said, half turning in her seat.
Two pairs of skeptical eyebrows crept upward.
“Okay, I’m looking forward to it.” No point in lying when they already knew the truth.
The sisters laughed, then shared a look.
Avery turned to her. “We’re going to have a shopping spree at Bellevue Square with the guys’ credit cards. I need a dress to change into for the reception, and Emma just likes to shop. Would you like to join us?”
Paisley hesitated, but only for a second. She missed her girl time. Lately, all she did was spend time with kids and guys, mostly Zeke, sometimes Al and Fernando. “I’d love to.” Her heart sank. “I don’t have a babysitter.”
“Tiff has babysat for you once before. You were fine with her, weren’t you?”
Paisley nodded.
“I see her at the barn every day. I’ll find out what works for her schedule.”
“That’d be so much fun.” Paisley grinned, feeling like bouncing in her seat like Sophie. “Could we set a date after Thursday? Zeke starts his next road trip on Friday.”
Again the twins exchanged knowing glances. It was unnerving. Paisley had loved her sister, but they’d never had that closeness some sisters have, and of course, they weren’t twins.
“Sure, that’d be fine,” Avery said.
Cheering erupted from the stands, and Paisley turned her attention back to the field as a local celebrity singer threw out the first pitch. She sought out Zeke standing at first base. He was smiling as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
She smiled, too, certain she’d helped put the smile on his face. She was beginning to believe she’d be putting it there for years to come. She loved him, and he loved her, even if he didn’t know it yet.
* * * *
Zeke stood at home plate in his new batting stance. Over the years, this game had been his refuge, his first and only love, and his one joy in life. He didn’t think he was anything without baseball. Or he hadn’t been until Paisley. Now he played the roles of a doting fiancé and surrogate father. Only there were times when he wondered if he was playing a role. Being a fiancé and a father had crept up on him like a tiger in the night, and he hadn’t seen any of it coming. He knew his relationship was temporary. He knew his time with Paisley and the kids had an expiration date, even if he didn’t know what that date would be. Yet he’d embraced the experience for what it was and lived in the moment.
Having people underfoot, including construction workers, didn’t irritate him as much as he’d thought it would. In some weird way, he actually liked it. He’d always considered himself a loner, a guy who jealously guarded his privacy and “me” time. He kept waiting for that man to resurface. So far, the novelty of his current situation hadn’t worn off, but he knew himself. It would.
A ball whizzed toward him. He stuck out his glove and tagged the base just in time for a quick out. Shit, that was close. He’d better get his head out of his ass and pay attention. He could contemplate his future off the field. He chanced a glance over his shoulder where Paisley and the kids sat. As usual, her complete concentration was on him. She looked cute as hell in his jersey and a Skookums baseball cap. He liked having someone in the stands just for him. He liked how the kids jumped up and down if he hit the ball even if it was fly ball. He liked knowing someone would be waiting for him after the game.
Turning back, he waited for the pitch and concentrated on the game.
Boston scored two in the fourth and one in the ninth to put them ahead five to two. It was the bottom of the ninth, and Zeke stepped up to bat. Bases loaded. Two outs. He stared down the pitcher, and the pitcher stared right back. Zeke waited. The guy had a wicked slider, which happened to be Zeke’s worst ball to hit. If Zeke were the pitcher, that’s what he’d pitch.
And that’s exactly what he did pitch. As the ball zipped toward Zeke, it took that hard-to-measure dip. Zeke was ready for it. He heard the solid thwack, felt the concussion through his arms, and threw down the bat. He ran for all he was worth, even though he knew running wasn’t necessary. He couldn’t resist looking up as the ball sailed through the air into the center field stands.
Grand fucking slam.
Game over. The Skookums won, six to five.
He jogged the bases. His gaze locking on Paisley and the kids. They were leaping up and down and screaming as if they’d just won the World Series. He gave them a thumbs-up. His teammates waited for him at home plate and piled on. Zeke couldn’t stop grinning.
He did the customary interviews after the game in a riotous locker room, anxious to get home to Paisley and the kids.
Next, he did something completely spontaneous. Several of the guys wanted to celebrate, and he invited them over for a barbecue and beer. Many decided to take him up on it after hearing that Paisley was an incredible cook.
As he left the locker room he texted Paisley so she could prepare herself for an invasion of hungry baseball players. She wasn’t upset. In fact, she sounded excited and volunteered to run to the grocery store.
Zeke got in the car and drove toward home, feelin
g as light as air and happier than he could ever remember being. Life couldn’t get better than this. It just couldn’t.
* * * *
Paisley stared at the text message for a long time, ignoring the kids tugging on her hands in an attempt to pull her through the sea of people to the minivan Zeke had bought for her to use. No one needed to tell her the danger of becoming too dependent on a man. Over the years, and despite her propensity to fall head over heels after the second date, she’d never allowed a man into her life to the point where she leaned on him for the basics such as transportation, food, and housing.
Sophie was hungry, which made her whiny and cranky. Brayden was dancing around all three of them chanting, “We won! We won! We won!” Sadie was more subdued, but she was smiling and waving a Skookums pennant.
Paisley answered the text and picked up her pace a notch. She had a ton to do if they were having guests over. She’d never entertained a huge group beyond a few friends over for beer and chips. These were Zeke’s teammates and perhaps their perfectly made-up girlfriends and wives. It was the women who scared her. She’d never met any of them, let alone hung out with them.
Grocery shopping with three kids was always a challenge, but Paisley had had plenty of practice in the past few months. She was in and out of the grocery store in twenty minutes with the kids safely secured in the car. She pulled onto the street as they once again sang “Take Me out to the Ball Game” over and over.
She couldn’t get home soon enough and pressed her foot a little harder into the accelerator. She’d kill right now for a little adult conversation, and she would be having a lot of adult conversation of the testosterone-laced variety in a less than an hour.
She grinned and pulled into the driveway. This would be fun. Brayden helped her unload the groceries while the girls stacked paper plates, napkins, and utensils on the kitchen island. After which she sent them to the backyard to play.
She didn’t have time to clean the construction dust, which permeated every nook and cranny of the grand old home, but she doubted a group of baseball players would even notice. Paisley buzzed around the kitchen, cutting vegetables for a salad, mashing potatoes for her famous garlic mashed potatoes, and marinating the mound of sirloins in her special sauce. She did the best she could on short notice, and she surveyed the fruits of her labor with pride.
Brayden, ever helpful, blew fir needles off the deck with a leaf blower and wiped off the outdoor tables and chairs—one of the downsides of living among trees, but she wouldn’t give up her home for the world. The stately old place radiated character and charm.
There was one problem: this wasn’t her home.
She refused to dwell on such a teensy fact. She’d put her stamp on every room in this house, from the colorful photographs of Puget Sound in the living room to the comfy, man-sized leather furniture in the library. She’d painstakingly picked all of it with Zeke’s tastes in mind. Not that Zeke seemed to have much of an opinion, but he never complained about her decorating.
She flitted about the house, making everything as perfect as she could, considering they lived in a construction zone. She put a large cooler on the deck and stocked it with beer and soda. By the time Zeke’s car pulled into the drive, followed by a caravan of his teammates, she was ready and standing at the front door to invite them inside.
She recognized most of them from the games she’d attended and knew a lot about them from things Zeke had told her.
Fernando reached her first, bending from his six-foot-four height to give her a kiss on the cheek. He held out a bottle of wine. “For the lady of the house.”
“Oh, thank you,” she cooed and gave him a quick hug. He grinned at her. She noted his “girlfriend” wasn’t with him and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t like the woman, and Fernando didn’t seem to like her, either. Maybe he was gay, but his sexual orientation was none of her business. Zeke joined her. Standing by her side, he put an arm possessively around her waist and eyed each of his teammates with malicious intent when they stepped out of line or got too friendly. His definition of “too friendly” appeared to be as innocent as calling her things like beautiful or gorgeous.
The lone straggler in the group walked up the stone front steps. Zeke’s arm tightened around her waist, and he glowered at the man. Paisley recognized Zeke’s nemesis, Gavin Sullivan, immediately. There was no love lost between the two, according to Zeke.
Gavin turned his attention to her. His broad grin promised sweaty nights and hot sex. He was movie-star handsome in a dark, brooding way women loved. Paisley preferred Zeke’s all-American-boy appearance, but if bad boys were your thing, Gavin would be your man.
Paisley ignored the dislike crackling in the air like a friction-laced sweater. She slipped out of Zeke’s grasp and stepped forward to greet Gavin. He surprised her by hugging her a little too hard, and she wriggled away from him. Zeke balled his hands into fists, stepped in front of her, and looked ready to kill.
“Zeke,” Paisley begged. The last thing she wanted was a fight among teammates, especially when she saw Bernie getting out of her ancient car and fumbling with her photography bag as she headed for the house.
She ran a calming hand down Zeke’s arm. He blew out a breath and managed a tight smile. He pointed inside. Gavin didn’t move. He was staring at the disaster that was Bernie struggling to get up the steps.
“Leave her alone,” Zeke growled an ominous warning. “She doesn’t understand guys like you.”
Gavin spiked a brow and gave Bernie one last assessing glance, then he followed the rest of the guys into the house.
“You just waved a red flag in front of the bull,” Paisley pointed out. “But thank you for defending Bernie. She isn’t used to guys like him.”
Zeke nodded. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that. He just pushes all my buttons.”
Paisley touched his cheek with a couple days’ stubble. She loved his stubble. He was sexy smooth-shaven, but that stubble took his sexiness to a whole new level, made him look less boyish and more dangerous man. What woman didn’t love a little bit of danger in her man from time to time?
He kissed her palm and managed a smile. She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. He didn’t need any further invitation and possessed her mouth fully, pulling her close to his body and kissing the hell out of her. He didn’t stop until they heard someone clear their throat.
Bernie watched them with widened eyes full of envy.
Paisley pushed away from Zeke, her face heating up instantly. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
Bernie just shrugged. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She brushed past them into the house.
* * * *
The party was in full swing. As the afternoon stretched out into evening, more beer was consumed, and more teammates and their families showed up. Later in the evening, the family guys gathered their wives and kids and said their good-byes. Paisley didn’t have any problem putting her kids to sleep. They were out as soon as their heads hit the pillows.
She walked back to the deck. Zeke leaned against the railing talking to a small group of guys, debating the merits of certain batting techniques. He seemed relaxed and happy. His face lit up when he saw her. He gave her a quick hug and brushed his lips over hers. Heat flashed in his eyes, promising a night of passion. She winked at him and sashayed off to check the cooler and put out some more chips and dip.
“Oh, buddy, you are so whipped. That little girl owns you,” she heard Fernando say.
The rest of the dozen or so guys left on the deck chuckled and gave Zeke more shit. Paisley laughed and ventured toward the open French doors.
“Hey, where’s Bernie? We need some photos to commemorate how whipped Z-man is.” Rex grinned and gave Zeke a playful punch in the arm.
“I’ll find her,” Paisley volunteered. She went inside. Bernie’s camera sat on the counter, but a quick check of the living room, den, and powder room revealed no Bernie.
Paisley frowned. Gavin had
pursued Bernie all night with a single-minded purpose. Bernie had appeared to fall for his lines like a doe falls for a handsome buck. Zeke hadn’t reacted, knowing Gavin was flirting with Bernie to goad Zeke into a scene.
Had Gavin stepped up his game?
Paisley thought back to when she’d last seen Bernie or Gavin. She’d assumed Gavin had left with one of the previous groups of guys who’d said their good-nights. Having a bad feeling about this, she checked all the possible places in the house and couldn’t find them. Paisley sneaked out a side door and onto the darkened part of the lawn.
She heard moans coming from the wooded area at the side of the house. Concerned, she crept quietly down the small path leading to a water feature and small seating area. She stopped in her tracks and peered through the leaves of a bush at the edge of the clearing.
Bernie lay on a small stone bench, her shirt up around her neck and her khakis on the ground nearby. Gavin held her legs up and over her head as his hips slammed into the vee created by those widespread legs.
Paisley looked harder, feeling protective and worried, and wanting to make sure what was going on was consensual. Bernie whimpered and arched her back. She dug her fingers into his ass, encouraging him.
“Fuck me,” Bernie demanded. “Now. Fuck me hard and fast.”
Gratefully, the darkness concealed any details but the thrusting and writhing of the two bodies. She didn’t need to see any more than that. Bernie was a full, willing participant, and Bernie’s love life was ultimately none of Paisley’s business. Bernie had been around the team all year. She had to know what type of guy Gavin was and what she was getting into.
Just like Paisley knew with Zeke? And look how much her knowledge had stopped her.
A twig crunched under her foot, sounding like an explosion in the comparative silence of the evening. Paisley turned and ran away from the unlikely couple and back to the party. Zeke came out of the house with another case of beer, which he deposited in the cooler. His brow furrowed with worry as he searched the deck for her. She climbed the side steps, out of breath, her face most likely flushed.
Bottom of the Ninth: Seattle Skookums Baseball (Game On in Seattle Book 6) Page 21