by Ash, Nikki
Bridget snorts out loud, and when I glare at her, I see she’s holding her phone up. “You are not recording me!” I yell.
“No, I’m not.” She shakes her head. “I’m Facetiming with Simon. He’s at work and couldn’t leave to come here and watch.”
“Bridget!”
“Just pretend like I’m not here.”
“Mom, c’mon,” Hunter says. “You got this.” I’m about to tell him I’m done, but when I look at him, he’s grinning from ear to ear. His matching green eyes are sparkling with laughter and happiness, and in this moment, I realize it doesn’t even matter if I suck or if I never hit the ball. All kids want is for the people they love to be a part of what makes them happy. Hunter might’ve been groaning over me playing, but right now, he’s smiling, and that is everything. He’s growing up too fast. Soon, he’ll be thirteen, and next year he’ll be starting high school. My time with him is limited, and if it means I make an ass out of myself in order for him to see I care, then so be it.
Stepping back in front of the plate, I do as Landon showed me once again. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Hunter winds up and throws the ball. I swing the bat as hard as I can and am shocked when it connects, making a loud banging sound.
“You hit it, Mom!” Hunter yells. “Run to first.”
I do as he says and start running. Realizing I still have the bat in my hands, I throw it down. Only I must’ve thrown it harder than I thought, because a second later, I hear a “Oh, shit!” from Bridget, who never curses in front of our kids. I turn to see what happened and find Landon on the ground, holding his face in his hands.
Bridget and the boys run over to Landon, who’s now slowly lifting his face. Oh my God! His lip is busted and blood is dripping down his chin.
“Here!” Bridget grabs a couple wipes from her diaper bag and hands them to Landon, who takes them and dabs his lip.
“I am so sorry,” I cry, dropping to the ground to take a look at it. It’s definitely split, and it might even need stitches. “Bridget, come look,” I beg. She’s a nurse. She’ll know.
She bends in front of Landon, who’s now chuckling and shaking his head. “I think it’s okay,” she says, taking a look at it.
“You hit the ball good, Mom,” Hunter says with pride in his voice. “That would’ve been a homerun.”
“Really?” I squeal. When Landon snorts, I drop my excitement a couple notches. “I really am sorry.”
“You’re one dangerous woman,” Landon muses as he stands. Then, so only I can hear, he whispers, “Better my lip than my dick, though.”
I laugh out loud, remembering the cold water I spilled all over his pants during our blind date.
“So, what’s next?” Landon asks, like he didn’t just get hit in the mouth with a wooden bat a few minutes ago.
“I think that’s enough for one day,” I say.
“I agree.” Bridget nods, trying and failing to stifle her laugh.
“I agree too!” Simon says.
“Bridget!” I yell.
“Sorry.” She grabs her phone from the ground. “I dropped the phone to see if Landon was okay. I forgot Simon was still on Facetime.”
The boys help Landon pack up the stuff and lock it in the shed they store everything in, while Bridget and I walk over to the girls.
“Hey, Mom, check this out.” Ella does an aerial then a back flip across the white line.
“Wow, that’s crazy,” Landon says, coming up behind us. “Did you even use your hands?”
“Nope.” Ella grins. “It’s called an aerial. It’s a no-handed cartwheel. I’m using it in my routine. Mom, can we make a balance beam for the backyard so I can practice at home?” She hits me with puppy dog eyes. “Kendra’s dad built her one with wood.”
“Umm…” I try to imagine cutting up wood and wince. The last time I tried to nail some pictures to the wall, I smashed my thumb.
“I could help you,” Landon speaks up. “I love to build things.” Everyone’s gaze swings over to him. “If you want,” he adds, obviously trying to backtrack, unsure if that was an okay thing to say. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
“Mom, can we?” Ella exclaims. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course.”
I turn to Landon and mouth thank you.
“Could we paint it too?” Ella asks Landon, hopeful.
“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs.
“Yes! I want pink! Can we do it this weekend?”
“Oh, er…” Landon looks at me. “I’m not sure what you guys have planned with your mom and dad.”
“It’s Mom’s weekend,” Ella says. “Can we, Mom?”
“This weekend is fine, as long as Landon isn’t busy.”
“I’m not,” he says. “So, this weekend it is.”
“Can we get pizza for dinner?” Hunter asks.
“Yeah, can we go too, Mom?” Brendan asks Bridget.
She looks at me and shrugs. “That’s fine with me.”
“Sure,” I say as well.
“Landon, you want to come?” Hunter asks.
“Sure, I could go for some pizza… if your mom says it’s okay.”
“Yeah,” Ella says before I can answer. “We can have Mom draw the balance beam for us.”
My eyes meet Bridget’s and she gives me a knowing smirk. Both my kids are falling for Landon almost as fast as I did all those years ago. As fast as I am now…
“Pizza it is.”
Twenty-Two
Landon
“Mom, can I please have some money to play games?” Hunter asks.
“Me too, please,” Ella says, sticking her hand out.
Harper nods then digs through her purse, I’m assuming to look for some money. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and frowns. “I must’ve left my wallet at home. I only have my card. Let me ask the waitress if I can use my card.” She stands and sets off to find her.
We ended up at some pizza place that doubles as a two-story arcade. Since I left my truck at home, opting to run the few blocks to the field, Harper insisted I ride with them and she would drop me off afterward. Harper and Bridget ordered a few pies, and while the kids waited, Bridget took the little ones to play in some jungle gym looking thing, while the boys sat by me and played twenty questions about baseball. Ella and Harper worked on drawing the balance beam. Simon showed up just before the food arrived, and once it did, the kids scarfed their food down faster than I’ve ever seen anyone consume food. Now they’re done and ready to play games. The entire place is a zoo. Kids are running around everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. When I was growing up, we had a small arcade in the back of a family run bar, but that was it. I can’t even imagine what a kid could spend in a place this massive.
While she’s looking for the waitress, I pull my wallet out and pluck out two one hundred dollar bills, handing them to the kids. “Go have fun.”
“Are you serious?” Hunter asks incredulously.
“Do you need more?” I start to pull another bill out, but he shakes his head.
“No, this is good. Thanks!” He jumps from his seat and takes off with Brendan as Ella yells thank you while chasing after her older brother.
Harper comes back and looks around. “Where are the kids?”
“I gave them some money.” I shrug.
“Oh, thanks.” She smiles and sits next to me. “They had an ATM. How much did you give them?” She pulls a twenty dollar bill out of her back pocket.
“Umm…” Shit, was she only going to give them a twenty between the two of them? I laugh to myself. No wonder Hunter looked at me like I was crazy before he ran off. “Don’t worry about it.” I shake my head. “It’s my treat.”
“Okay, thanks,” she says.
“Want to walk around? I bet I can beat you in air hockey.”
Harper grins. “You’re on.”
After getting some dollars turned into coins, we go in search of the air hockey. We run into Ella, who is pla
ying some whack-a-mole game with the twins. Bridget and Simon are standing to the side, watching. Harper asks if she wants to join us, but she says she needs to kill all the moles.
“Not exactly your idea of a night out, huh?” Harper asks as we continue our hunt for the air hockey.
“Actually, it’s my idea of a perfect night out,” I say, knowing exactly what she’s trying to do. But it’s not going to work.
“Oh, c’mon.” She scoffs. “You can say the media only shows one layer of you, but it doesn’t make up where you are. I’ve watched you over the years. At clubs, attending events with models and celebrities and other huge athletes…”
Grabbing the curve of her hip, I pull her into a dark, somewhat deserted corner, pressing her against the wall. “You have to stop going by those pictures,” I tell her. “Yes, I went to clubs and events, but mostly because of the endorsement deals I had with various companies. I got paid to show up and endorse the product. And those women you saw on my arm were nothing more than a one-time date setup by our agents and PR team.” I lean in and kiss her, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. Her lips are soft and taste like strawberries, and if we weren’t in a public place, I would devour the hell out of her.
“What you saw was all for show. My life consisted of baseball all day, every day. No more looking back. Leave the past where it belongs… in the past.” I know how bad the media makes people like me look. I’ve seen marriages fail over shit that was posted online, but I’m not going to let it come between us. If I have to remind Harper every damn day this is where I want to be, I will.
“Okay.” She nods. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I tell her, kissing her mouth because I seriously can’t get enough of her. “Just please stop trying to find reasons to push me away. I want to be here… with you, and with your kids.”
“Hey, Landon!” Hunter yells, running over to us. I back up slightly, giving Harper some space. “They have a pitching game. Will you come play?”
“Sure, but after, you have to help your mom and me find the air hockey.”
When we get over to the pitching machine, a bunch of kids are standing around. Hunter has a huge cup full of gold coins that he’s digging into to grab a few out of.
“Hunter, where did you get all that?” Harper asks, eyeing the cup.
“Landon,” he says without making eye contact with his mom.
“How much did you give them?” Harper asks, turning to me.
“I don’t know…” I begin, but when Harper gives me that scary as fuck mom look I can remember my mom giving me as a kid—only Harper’s is way fucking hotter—I go with the truth.
“A hundred,” I cough out.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.” Her eyes glare from the cup back to me.
“A hundred,” I repeat.
“Between the two of them?”
“Each.”
“Landon.” She gasps, then turns to Hunter. “Hunter, did you take a hundred dollars from Landon?”
He winces and shrugs. “Ella did too.”
Harper’s eyes go wide. “She doesn’t understand the difference in value between a dollar and a hundred. Go find her right now, so someone doesn’t mug her!”
Hunter runs off without argument, and I stifle my laugh. I’ve totally been had by a damn twelve-year-old.
“I’m sorry,” I say, reeling her into my arms. “I should’ve asked you first.” I give her a chaste kiss, hoping she’ll go easy on me.
She sinks into me and smiles softly. “I’m not mad at you. What you did was nice. Hunter knows better than that, and he took advantage of you. He will be doing chores to earn back that money since he already turned them all into tokens.” She rolls her eyes. “Little shit.”
“You in mom-mode is hella hot,” I tell her.
“Mom-mode?” She laughs.
“Yeah, you get all growly and possessed looking. Totally hot.”
“Well, if you think that’s hot, you should come over this weekend when I’m yelling at them to clean their rooms for the millionth time.” She waggles her eyebrows playfully.
“Found her,” Hunter says.
We glance over at them, and Ella is looking at us weird. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?” she asks with a silly grin on her face.
I look down and realize I’m still holding Harper close. Immediately, I push her away, causing her to stumble back. She tries to grab the bar to the jungle gym enclosure, but doesn’t grab it in time, instead falling backward. There’s a screech, and then a second later, her shoe-clad feet are in the air.
“Mom!” Ella yells as the three of us run over to make sure she’s okay.
When we look down, we find Harper lying on her back in a huge plastic ball pit. The kids crack up laughing as Harper lobs several colored balls at us.
“Hey!” Hunter yells, grabbing one and throwing it back at her.
It smacks her right in the face, and Harper scowls playfully. “This is war!” she yells. The kids both turn to run, but before they can get away, I grab them by their shirts and toss each of them into the pit.
They scream and screech and laugh as Harper attacks them with the balls.
“Get in here, Landon!” Harper demands. “It’s only fair since you pushed me in.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I jump into the pit and start covering her with the colored balls, until the only part of her you can see is her button nose.
“Do me!” Ella squeals. “Do me!”
Wading through the plastic balls, I get over to Ella and cover her the same way I did her mother.
We spend the next several minutes playing in the balls—never thought I’d say that—until Hunter gets bored and asks me to do the pitching game with him. Then we all get out.
“All right, you’re going against me,” Hunter says, sticking some coins in the machine.
“You realize I’m going to beat you, right?” I taunt.
Hunter laughs. “Maybe… but your arm was looking kind of rough toward the end of your career there, so I might have a chance.”
“Want to bet on it?” I ask, to make it more fun and competitive.
Hunter crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay.” He nods slowly. “What do you want if you win?”
I think for a moment. “My truck can use a good cleaning. If I win, you have to wash and wax my truck.”
“He should be doing that anyway to earn that money you gave him,” Harper says, butting in.
“Hush, woman,” I joke. “This is a man’s bet.”
She snorts in laughter. “Oh, okay… go on with your man-self.”
“All right,” Hunter agrees. “If I win, though…” He smiles mischievously, reminding me so much of his mother. “We go to a baseball game to see the Reds play.”
“Hunter!” Harper jumps in.
“Deal,” I say before she can say any more.
“Landon!” she scolds.
“Harper!” I scold back playfully.
The kids all laugh.
“Okay, let’s do this.” I quickly read the directions as Hunter sets up the game. In a nutshell, it’s not just about speed, it’s also about accuracy, and how many times you can do it in two minutes.
The game counts down and when it gets to one, the balls drop down. Hunter and I both grab a ball and throw. Mine goes in at seventy miles per hour and so does Hunter’s. Holy shit! I wasn’t giving it my all. I mean, it’s a game and we’re indoors, but I’m shocked as shit that he can throw that fast and accurate. I’ve seen him pitch a few times at camp, so I knew he was good, but we’ve been focusing on batting and catching mostly. I wonder if anybody knows what he’s capable of.
We both grab another ball and they both go in. This time Hunter’s ball gets clocked at seventy-five miles per hour. I’m trying to keep up, but I’m too busy watching him throw. I throw a few more balls, getting them all in, and then the timer dings, indicating our time is up.
“I won!”
Hunter shouts. “Did you let me win?” Realistically, if I were paying better attention to what I was doing instead of what he was doing, I probably would’ve beat him, but that’s what I get for not having my eyes on my own balls.
“Nope,” I admit. “You won fair and square. I had no idea you could throw like that.” The stats show his fastest pitch was seventy-six miles per hour. That’s insane for a twelve-year-old. “Did you know your son could throw like that?” I ask Harper, who nods.
“Yeah, he’s the pitcher on his team.” She shrugs, clearly not understanding just how good her son is.
“Has your coach mentioned getting scouted at all?” I ask Hunter, whose eyes widen.
“No, but I go to a private school and I’m only in middle school, so we only play a few other teams.”
“If you keep that up, you could get drafted,” I tell him honestly. He still has a few years left, but with his accuracy and speed, and the fact he can also catch and bat, he has a damn good chance.
“Are you Landon Maxwell?” someone asks from behind me. When I turn around, a teenage boy is standing there, smiling. He’s probably a junior or senior in high school if I had to guess. “Holy shit, you are!”
“Watch your language, kid.” I nod toward Ella and Harper. “There are ladies around.”
“I’m so sorry, sir,” he mumbles. “Could you sign this?” He extends the Boston Reds hat he was wearing and a pen. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Sure.” I sign my name. “Do you play ball?”
“Hell—I mean heck yeah. I’m a pitcher too.” He grins proudly.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Sixteen, sir. I play varsity.”
“My friend Hunter plays too.” I nod toward Hunter, who’s watching our exchange. “Wanna see what you got?” I point to the game.
“Against you?” the kid asks.
“Against him. I’ll play the winner.”
The boys start the game, and three balls in, I already know Hunter is going to win. While the kid is good, throwing between sixty to sixty-five miles per hour, he isn’t as fast or accurate as Hunter is. We spend the next hour taking turns playing the pitching game and then eventually move on to other games.