Chapter 12 #2
Emmett hums this sleepy sound. “Of course we are. We practically grew up together.”
“Yeah, there’s not a big age gap, huh? You must have been young when you became a dad.”
He hesitates for a moment. “I was maybe nineteen or twenty when she was born.”
“And where’s her mom?”
Though we’re not touching other than my cheek on his arm, I sense his entire body go rigid behind me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“What?” he asks, but it’s not confusion in his tone. It’s shock.
Shock that I felt as if I had any right to know the answer to that question, I’m sure. I guess I just assumed that since I drunkenly told him all about my divorce, he’d want to soberly tell me about his.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly blurt out. “That was inappropriate of me to ask.”
“We’re sharing a bed, Reese. I don’t know that either one of us is the best judge of what’s appropriate and what’s not these days.”
His honesty acts as a reality check for me. Because if he’s saying it like it is, I can no longer lie to myself by going with his original “we’re just hugging” theory.
I go to move away, to create some distance between us, when Emmett grabs my hip to stop me. He flexes his fingertips, curling them into the softness of my belly and keeping me exactly where I am.
“Stay.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
His head drops to mine, his beard tickling the skin at the back of my neck when he breathes a laugh.
“Emmett, we shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Stay anyway.”
I don’t have a retort for him, but I also don’t have the willpower to move away.
Instead, Emmett scoots closer, curling his body around my own. His knee grazes the back of mine. His foot brushing against my ankle. And his hand . . . his hand is still firmly planted on my hip, calloused and warm and real fucking distracting.
Silence lingers for a long while and it acts as a test to see if one of us will move away, to see if one of us stops this and reestablishes some professional boundaries.
Neither of us does.
“Do you really not know about Miller’s mom?” he finally asks.
I shake my head against his bicep, and I feel it flex under my cheek, which would account for the way his fingers are curling into a fist before eventually relaxing.
“Miller’s mom died.”
Oh, shit.
“And I have a feeling that if you didn’t already know that, then you probably don’t know that Miller isn’t biologically mine.”
What?
There’s so much important information coming at me at once, and I can’t seem to organize it quickly enough to give him a thoughtful response.
“Miller’s mom’s name was Claire,” he continues. “Claire and I started dating shortly after I was called up to the majors. Miller was four years old when I first met her, and just after she turned five, her mom died from cancer.”
Any words that might possibly convey how sorry I am stick in my throat. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“You adopted Miller,” I realize.
“I did.”
“Did her mom ask you to do that?”
Emmett exhales behind me. “She did. She was a single mom without any extended family, and she knew that when she passed, Miller wouldn’t have anyone.”
“But she had you.”
“Yeah, she did. And she ended up becoming my entire world. I quit playing that year and settled down in a small town in Colorado to raise her. She was so young at the time and had just lost the only parent she’d ever known, so she needed some stability, you know? I couldn’t travel the way I was.”
I could not be more thankful I’m turned away from him right now as I screw my eyes shut and let my heart ache for this man who I’ve always believed cares just a little too much.
But thank God he does.
“Were you scared?”
“Terrified.” He breathes out a laugh. “I was suddenly raising this kid, but I was still a kid myself. I was twenty-four or twenty-five at the time and just winging the whole fatherhood thing because I had no idea what the hell I was doing. So that’s what I mean when I say Miller and I grew up together.
We both were just trying to figure it out. ”
It’s no wonder Emmett is all about family. He fought hard for his.
“And Miller,” I begin. “Is she okay? I can’t imagine losing my only parent.”
“She is now. She was so young when Claire passed that she doesn’t remember a whole lot about her, but she carried a lot of guilt for a lot of years.
Mostly about me quitting baseball when I did.
And that I stayed to coach at our local college instead of taking one of the MLB coaching positions I was offered over the years because I didn’t want to uproot her.
But I think meeting Max gave her a whole new perspective on how I felt when I met her. ”
“Oh my God,” I exhale in realization.
Miller is Max’s parent in the same way Emmett is hers.
Emmett smiles and I feel the curve of it against the back of my neck. “Kind of a fun little parallel.”
“So, you really are a grandpa. Maybe not biologically, but still.”
He laughs, his entire body rumbling against mine. “You really know how to humble a man, Reese. And yes, I guess technically I am. There’s no blood relation between me, Miller, and Max, but yeah. They’re my family. So whatever title that puts on me, I’m good with it.”
The smile on my lips feels good. The sound of his laughter feels warm. It’s nice to be able to bounce from serious to unserious with him without either of us missing a beat.
“Well, just so you know, you don’t look like a grandfather.”
“Hmm,” he hums, pulling me closer. “No?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“What about the bit of gray I got in my beard?”
“It works for you.”
“Does it now?”
“Unfortunately.”
His head dips lower, falling into the crook of my shoulder as he gets comfortable, and I can sense he’s getting close to finding sleep.
But I’m not ready yet.
“Emmett,” I whisper.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Is that why you’re so close with the guys on the team?”
He inhales a breath as he thinks it over. “Yeah, I suppose so. Sometimes you’re just needed. Whether that’s as a coach, a mentor, or a friend. And I like being able to be whatever is needed for them. I like taking care of people too, I guess. Or maybe it’s just that I really love my job.”
A smile pulls at my lips. “I remember when my grandfather got you to come on board. I wasn’t involved with the team yet, but I knew he’d been trying for years to get you to join the coaching staff.”
Emmett hums this sleepy sound, and it’s confirmation that this conversation is going to be over sooner than I’d like.
“I didn’t let myself take a job in the majors until Miller was old enough and off doing her own thing.
It was the right decision to stop playing when I did, but I won’t lie and say it hasn’t been my dream to come back.
Coaching feels like my second chance in a way. ”
Well . . . shit.
He’s making it awfully hard to keep my emotions out of the business side of things. Yeah, Emmett Montgomery is going to be expensive next season, but I’m starting to believe he might also be worth the investment.
His breathing grows slow and steady against my back, but I’m desperate to know more. I may never get this chance again, just him and me in a quiet room being honest and vulnerable.
Knowing I’ll most likely only be able to get one more answer out of him, I pick the question I’m most eager to know.
“Did you ever meet someone else after you lost Claire?”
He’s quiet for a long moment and it’s then I realize I’ve lost him to sleep.
Probably for the best, I suppose. I doubt there’s an answer to that question I’d love to hear.
With the room silent and his body behind mine, keeping me warm, I close my eyes and look for sleep too. I’ve just about found it when Emmett finally speaks up and gives me his answer.
“No,” he says, and it’s hardly a whisper. “I didn’t have it in me to move on.”