by Kaylee Ryan
My eyes are closed, my breathing labored as I release my grip on him and let my hands fall to my sides. He settles on the bed next to me, legs hanging off the side. I can’t speak. Hell, I can’t move. I’m just soaking up the rush. I should probably say something, thank him for the best orgasm of my life, but speaking takes too much effort. Instead, I move my hand, seeking him out. When I feel him, I link my fingers through his and hold on tight.
“I’ve got you, Ris.” His warm breath hits my ear.
Cracking open one eye, I see him leaning on his elbow looking down at me. “There she is,” he whispers. “I missed you,” he teases.
“You tried to kill me,” I quip.
He chuckles, low and deep. “Death by orgasm. What a way to go.” Slowly, his soft yet firm lips press against mine. Just as I’m about to beg him for round two, I hear the pitter-patter of little feet and then the bathroom door close.
Easton jumps up, disposes of the condom in the trash can beside the nightstand and is dressed in what seems like ten seconds. I can’t hold back, and laughter bubbles out of me. I think he’s moving faster than he does on the field. His coach would be proud. He winks at me, not at all fazed by my laughter, then slips out the door. I clean up the best that I can without the bathroom, and quickly get dressed. When I open my bedroom door, I hear laughter in the kitchen. Not sure what I’ll find, I take small steps seeing what I can hear.
“Did you ask my mommy about my practice. I really want you to go,” Paisley asks him.
“Your mom and I talked and I’m going to be at as many practices and games that I can. In fact, anytime you want me there, as long as I’m not at work, I’ll be there.”
“Really? Just like the other daddies? He’s up there, remember?” she asks him, and I can picture her pointing to the sky.
I’ve tried my best to keep the memory of Steven alive for her, but it’s hard to explain to a four-year-old what heaven is and why she never got to meet her father.
“Your daddy loved you very much,” he tells her. I can hear the emotion in his voice.
“How do you know? Did you know my daddy?” she asks him.
“No, but I know because you are a princess and all daddies love their princesses.”
I’m about to be a blubbering mess. Taking a deep breath, I school my features and join them in the kitchen. “Hey, you two.” I stop and kiss P on top of the head. “How was your nap?”
“So, so good. I told East a story and it was eshosting,” she says dramatically.
“Exhausting,” I correct her. Easton is standing by the stove, arms and legs crossed, shaking with laughter. “Let’s get you some dinner, and then we’ll head to practice.”
“How about we go out to dinner?” Easton offers.
“I can make something,” I tell him.
“I know, but I kinda want to take my girls out.” He shrugs. “You agreed and I kind of want to show you off.” I know what he’s asking. Am I ready to be in the limelight as his girlfriend? I’m shocked that I do. I have no worries when it comes to how he feels for me. It’s a new feeling, but a welcome one all the same.
“Show what off?” Paisley asks.
“I want to show you this diner that my family and I have been going to since I was about your age,” he tells her.
“Yay! Can we, Mommy? Please, oh pretty please?”
Looking over at Easton, my eyes narrow on his pouting bottom lip, which is stuck out dramatically. “Pretty please, Mommy?” he asks.
“You know, you shouldn’t stick your lip out like that. A bird could poop on it,” I tell him.
Paisley giggles. “Don’t worry, East. She tells me that too and it’s never happened. Mommy’s just joking.”
“Good to know,” he tells her. “So how about it? Can I take you ladies out for dinner?”
“Yeah,” I agree. I look at Paisley. “Let’s get you changed and get your stuff together for practice.”
“Woohoo!” She jumps off the kitchen chair and rushes off down the hall to her room.
“This is us going out in public, Ris. The paparazzi are going to see you and her. They’re going to know you’re mine. You okay with that?”
“Yeah, but I worry about her. I want her to be safe.”
“I would never let anything happen to either one of you. It’s pretty chill here. People are used to seeing the Blaze players out and about. Just know that it’s going to be front page news.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” I counter.
“The Tennessee Blaze’s most eligible bachelor, voted two years in a row, is now off the market,” he says, walking toward me. He stops, bends down, and kisses the corner of my mouth. I wait for the panic, but it never comes. I’m happy, Paisley is happy, and Easton, well, if the smile he’s giving me is any indication, he’s happy too. I’m excited to see what’s yet to come.
“Ready,” Paisley says, sliding into the room in her socked feet.
“Hold up, slugger. Let’s get your shoes on while your mom checks to make sure we have everything.” He pops her onto the counter, takes her shoes from her and proceeds to place them on her feet and tie them as if he’s done this with her a thousand times.
Easton Monroe is indeed a good one. One who has already captured my heart.
We have a home game today and I’m stoked that Larissa and Paisley are going to be here. Last night I stopped by and dropped them off some T-shirts with the Blaze logo on the front, and Monroe and 20, my number, on the back. Hell, it turns me on knowing Larissa is wearing my name and number, and Paisley… pride thrums through me that my little princess will be cheering me on.
We had a mandatory team meeting, which means I had to be here extra early, so the girls are coming on their own. I hate that. I wanted to pick them up and show them around the stadium before it starts to fill up. Next time I’ll make it happen, because there will definitely be a next time.
“What’s got you staring at your phone?” Drew asks, leaning over my shoulder.
“Nothing, man. Ris said she would text me when she gets here and so far, nothing.”
“I’m sure she’ll be here,” he says, taking his seat beside me in front of his locker. “How are things going there? I feel like you never go out with us anymore. Away games, you rush back to your room, and when we’re home, you’re missing too.”
“Couldn’t be better,” I tell him honestly. “I’m crazy about her, about both of them.”
He nods. “Am I going to have to ask Larissa for permission for you to come hang out with the boys?” he jokes.
“Nope. I don’t need permission. I’d just rather be with them right now. Traveling takes so much time away, and when we go on long stretches on the road, it’s going to be hard to be away from them.”
“She hooked you.” He smirks.
“They both did.” Just as the words leave my mouth, my phone vibrates and a picture of the three of us that we took at the zoo, lights up my screen. “Hey, babe, you guys here?”
“About that,” she sighs, “we can’t make it.”
“What? Why? What’s going on?” I fire off questions. I was really looking forward to them coming today.
“P isn’t feeling well. She was complaining of her throat bothering her last night, then didn’t say anything else this morning. I thought maybe it was just allergy drainage. She started running a low-grade fever about an hour ago. I gave her some medicine to bring it down, and she’s snuggled up on the couch watching Pocahontas.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Sure.”
I wait as she hands the phone to Paisley.
“East,” she croaks into the phone, and I feel like a dick for making her talk.
“Hey, princess. Don’t say anything, I just wanted to tell you to feel better. I’ll be right there as soon as my game’s over.”
“O-kay,” she croaks.
“Give the phone back to Mommy.” I hear shuffling while she gives the phone back to Larissa.
“Sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry for being an incredible mother. I hate that she’s sick and I’m stuck here. I’ll be there as soon as the game’s over.”
“You don’t have to do that. We can’t risk you getting sick. You leave Tuesday for a week.”
“All the more reason for me to be there. I need to see her. Do you girls need anything? What can I bring her?” I ramble on with questions before she has time to answer them.
“I was going to have Mom come stay with her so I could run out and get her some Popsicles and ice cream.”
“I’ll bring them on my way home.”
“Easton, it’s fine, really. We’ve got this.”
“I know you do, but I want to help. You just cuddle with our girl and I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. Have a good game.”
“Thanks, babe.” We end the call, and the urge to race out of the stadium and rush to them is strong. So damn strong I grip my phone in my hand, a war waging inside me. I know it’s just a sore throat, but she’s never been sick, not since I came in the picture and… I don’t really know. I just feel like they need me.
“You good?” Drew asks.
“Paisley is sick, sore throat and a bit of a temperature. They’re not coming.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah,” I say, still gripping my phone. Resting my elbows on my knees, I stare down at my cleats. How do the guys with families deal with this shit? My phone vibrates in my hand. Lifting my head to see who it is, I smile when I see Larissa’s name.
Larissa: We’re okay here, Easton. You focus on the game.
Larissa: Kick some Badger ass.
Larissa: We’ll be watching you on TV.
She knows me well enough to know I was thinking of saying fuck the game to go to them. It sounds ridiculous even to me. It’s a sore throat. She knew what I needed to hear.
Me: Mind reader?
Larissa: Easton reader.
Me: Ha ha. See you soon, baby.
Larissa: We’ll be here.
Stashing my phone in my locker, I finished getting suited up for the game. The sooner it starts, the sooner it ends and I can get to my girls. That’s something I never thought I would feel when it came to baseball. Baseball has been my life since I was a kid. Meeting Larissa and Paisley changed my perspective on life. I make a great living and I’ve invested well. I’m set for life. I love the sport, but I love them more.
I freeze.
I love them.
Love her. I told Paisley I loved her since she’s a cute kid and is hard not to love, but it’s more than just she’s cute. I love her. It’s that I want to be the man she depends on. I want to be the father figure in her life. And her mom, Larissa, I just want her. My heart wants her. My soul wants her. Every part of me wants her.
I love my girls.
Paisley is out cold before the game even starts. I’ve recorded it even though I watched. Maybe she and East can watch it together later. I know he’s been teaching her about the positions and the rules of the game. Her attention span is short, but that doesn’t seem to deter him.
Once the game ends, I fold the two loads of laundry I washed, dried, and then ignored as I didn’t want to miss a glimpse of East. I’m just finishing putting away the final load when I hear his soft knock at the door. With a glance at the couch to see P is still sound asleep, I rush to the door to let him in.
I’m shocked at what I find. Easton Monroe, starting first baseman for the Tennessee Blaze, is on my front porch. Sure, he’s my Easton too, but right now, he’s in his dusty, dirty uniform, holding a grocery bag in each hand.
“Hey,” I say, stepping back so he can come in.
“How is she?”
“Sleeping. I need to wake her in just a few to give her some more medicine for the fever.”
“Do we take her to the emergency room?” he asks.
I fight back my smile at his concern. He’s so ridiculously sweet. “No, I’ll call to get her in with her pediatrician tomorrow. As long as the medicine keeps her fever down, we should be good. It will also help with the pain.”
“I bought everything I thought she might want. If I forgot something, I can go back out.”
“How about a shower? You could have done that at the stadium you know?”
“No time, I wanted to get here.”
“Do you at least have a change of clothes with you?”
“Yeah, my bag is out in my truck.”
I take a minute to look him over. He’s a sweaty, dusty, gorgeous mess. “You went into the store like that?” I ask.
“Yeah, if I’d been thinking, I would have sent someone to do it during the game. Then I could have been here sooner.”
“Easton,” I say, reaching out and resting my hand against his chest. “We’re fine. She’s fine. She’s sick, but kids get sick.”
“Not ours,” he says adamantly.
My mouth drops open at his reply. I try to speak, but the words just will not come. I try again, but don’t get the chance when Paisley’s croaking voice calls out for not me, but Easton.
“East,” she croaks softly. I can hear the anguish in her voice.
Easton kicks off his cleats and rushes past me to the couch. “Hey, princess,” he whispers. Bags still in his hands, he leans forward and places them on the table. “I got ice cream and Popsicles, some sherbet, all kinds of things that might make your throat feel better.”
She opens her mouth to speak, and he hushes her. “Shh, P, just point to what you want and I’ll get it for you.”
I watch as she points to a Popsicle and he makes quick work of pulling out the flavors and having her point to the one she wants. No one has ever cared for her besides me and my mom. There’s a lump in my throat watching him with her. He’s gentle, and I can see the worry on his face. He’s not used to kids. I know he has a sister who’s a good bit younger than him, but I can imagine as a kid he didn’t pay much attention. Yet here he is, tending to my daughter as if it’s second nature. As if she is really his.
“You eat your Popsicle while I run and take a shower. Then we can snuggle, okay?” She bobs her head up and down when he’s finished speaking. Leaning in, he kisses her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
Standing from the couch, he walks toward me. “Hey, baby.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Let me grab a shower and you can take a break.” He gives me another quick kiss before he rushes out the door to get his bag.
I don’t bother to correct him that I don’t need a break. Paisley has slept most of the day, but the fact he wants to means something. It means everything. When he’s here with us, he’s not Easton Monroe, the baseball player. He’s our East. He’s the man who we both adore.
While Easton takes a shower, I grab a couple of paper towels. One I wet, the other I leave dry, and head back to the living room. “Use this for your hands.” I hand Paisley the wet paper towel.” Her lips and tongue are red from the cherry Popsicle. Her hands too.
I’m just taking a seat in the chair when Easton comes back into the room. His hair is still wet from his shower, and he’s wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt. He walks to the couch and sits down, pulling P’s legs into his lap.
“Is it yummy?” he asks.
She nods.
“Good game,” I say, pulling his attention away from Paisley.
“Thanks. I was distracted and played like sh-crap, but thanks.”
My lips twitch. “I didn’t notice.”
“I mean, it wasn’t my worst game, but my mind was here, you know?”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want you to worry when we didn’t show up, but it sounds like you worried regardless.”
“Of course I did.” He almost sounds offended. “You two are what matters, Larissa.”
“All done,” Paisley croaks.
I hop out of my seat, and help her clean up with the wet towel, then wipe her face and hands with the dry one. I feel her forehead and she’s warm. “It’s time for more medicine. I’ll be right b
ack.”
“It’s yucky,” I hear her rasp out to Easton as I leave the room.
When I make it back to the living room, Paisley is curled up on Easton’s lap with a blanket thrown over both of them. “Open up,” I say, holding the medicine spoon out for her. She takes it and makes her usual face, letting me know she’s not happy about it.
“Now, we watch a movie,” Easton says, wrapping his arms around her and snuggling her close.
“Can we watch Cinderella?”
“Sure we can, sweet girl. Whatever you want.”
I want to scold him for spoiling her, but she’s sick, and honestly, even if she wasn’t, I’m sure I would bite my tongue. He’s so good with her, so much so my heart aches. She’s never had this, a male role model, and she’s soaking up time with him like a sponge. I still have the worry in the back of my mind, but seeing her with him, and him with her, no way can I deny them this.
I sift through the DVDs and find Cinderella, putting it in the DVD player and grabbing the remote.
“Come here, baby.” Easton pats the cushion next to him where he still sits with Paisley on his lap. I go willingly and curl up into his side. I feel his lips press against the top of my head and bite back my smile. This, in this moment, I couldn’t ask for more. Well, maybe for P to feel better, but the three of us like this… it’s everything.
“Hey, man, we’re all going out to breakfast. You in?” Fisher asks.
“Nah, thanks though.”
“You’re all domesticated and shit. Can’t hang out with your boys?”
“Not today. Larissa’s exhausted. She’s picked up three extra shifts this week because one of her coworkers has been sick. Paisley had two games, from catching up with rain dates a couple of weeks ago, which means all five nights this week she or her mom has had to get her to a game or practice. I was out of town and couldn’t help, so I’m going over there to see what I can do.”
“She does it all on her own?” Carr asks, joining the conversation.