Chapter 23
Yes, waking up next to Sommer had turned into my favorite thing to do ... well, that and playing baseball. Seeing her chestnut-colored hair fanned out over the pillow and the serene look on her face made me happy. Not to sound like a creeper, but I’d been watching her sleep for the past hour. The way her eyes would shift behind their lids, her lips pursing, then flattening, her breaths maintaining a perfect slow rhythm—was hypnotic.
Every so often, she’d stir and end up closer to me. Even in her sleep, she wanted me. Well, that had been how I explained the motion. For all I knew, she was cold and sought body heat—which I’d be more than happy to give her.
Slowly, her eyes opened, and she blinked a few times before she grinned. “Mmm, good morning.”
I leaned forward and kissed the top of her nose. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Mmm,” she moaned again. “This bed is how I’d imagine a cloud would be. Why do you look so awake? Have you been up long?”
My fingers skimmed her bare arm, eliciting a wave of tiny goose bumps. “About an hour. I usually get up and work out, but this morning, I didn’t seem to want to do that.”
“So you’ve been staring at me while I slept?”
“Pretty much.” I chuckled. “There’s something about you, Sommer Bennett.”
“So you’ve said. There’s something about you too. Although watching me sleep is a bit odd.”
“Not from my perspective.”
She giggled, and I pulled her on top of me. Now, on my back, and with her straddling me, I could feel her warm heat through her thin lady boxers. I wanted to surge up into her, but I also wanted to take a moment and enjoy the morning.
“Today’s a big game.”
I nodded and linked our fingers together. “It is, but we’re ready.”
“It’s so exciting. Ever since I was little, I’ve loved this time of year. Sad that the regular season was almost over, but happy that we made the postseason.”
“Well, we haven’t yet.”
She nodded, her hair falling in her face before she tucked it behind her ears. “I know, but I have confidence. And if not, then there’s next year.”
A gleam in her eye had me asking, “Already thinking about next year?”
“It’s a habit.”
“That’s why you deserve that promotion. Has your grandfather said anything to you about your report? I know you’ve been anxious about it.”
Sommer leaned down and kissed me. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’d rather shower.”
I smiled against her lips. Something told me I didn’t know the entire story, but if she got bad news, the last thing I’d want would be for her to rehash it all. On the other hand, I wanted to be there for her.
“Hey, you know that you can tell me anything, right?”
She gracefully moved her leg, then the rest of her body, until she was standing next to the bed. “I know. I’d rather not talk about it right now if that’s okay?”
“Sure. Just know I’m here for you.”
Sommer nodded, held out her hand, which I quickly took, and did her best to pull me up out of bed. The sheet fell away from me, and she let out a breath.
Her eyes raked up and down my half-naked body. My dick strained against the cotton fabric, but that was what happened when Sommer was that close to me. Hell, there were times all I had to do was look at her and my cock would stand at attention. It went into teenage mode around her. If I gave a shit, I’d say it was borderline embarrassing, but I didn’t give a fuck. She was under my skin, and I loved everything about that.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to seeing you like this.”
“Good thing you’ll have a long time to get used to it.” I playfully swatted her ass. “Let’s get going. We have a busy day today.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll give you yes, sir.” I chased her into the bathroom. The sound of her laughter bounced off the tiled walls. Catching her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and hoisted her up onto the vanity.
Our eyes connected, and the sudden urge to tell her how I felt about us as a couple flew to the forefront of my mind. I wanted to tell her that when I looked at her, my heart flipped in my chest, that when she smiled, I did, too, and that when I thought of what being in love would feel like, it was every moment we were together.
How did I tell her all of that and not send her running? Sommer held our relationship close to the vest, and I understood that. But the woman had intrigued me since the first day I saw her.
“What are you thinking? Or do I even need to ask?” she coyly inquired with a wolfish grin.
“The truth?”
She nodded.
Okay, here goes nothing. “I’m wondering if this is what love feels like. I’ve never experienced this before, Sommer. And before you throw my age at me, that doesn’t matter. Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.” She blinked a few times, and I was positive that if Remington were here, he’d tell me to think before I said something dumb. “When you walk into a room, my eyes are instantly drawn to you. At games, I can still spot you in a sea of fans. You make me want to be a better man, and as weird as it sounds, there’s just something about you that would break my heart if you were no longer mine. Is that love?”
That question had been rhetorical and maybe better served if I’d kept it silent, but I couldn’t help saying it out loud. Rather than wait for her, I answered it with a shrug of my shoulder. “Maybe it is. None of this feels wrong. And that is telling me that it’s right. We’re right. You’re the woman for me, Sommer.”
Her pretty eyes misted over. Rather than say anything, she snaked her legs around my waist, her arms wrapped around my neck, and she pulled me down for a kiss that held all the promises I hadn’t yet said.
She felt the same about me. I was sure of it.
* * *
Sommer and I hadn’t driven to the park together before. We were under the guise of working together, and I supposed we still were. But I couldn’t remember the last time she had even mentioned my social media. Not that there would be anything to talk about.
Her car smelled of fresh flowers thanks to the little air freshener attached to her vent. My long legs required me to move the seat all the way back. When she looked over, she laughed.
“Cute car,” I remarked, adjusting my position.
“Thank you. Should I have taken my SUV instead of my Fiat?”
“Nope. It’s all good. This car is cute,” I repeated. Before heading to the diamond, we stopped so I could fuel up for the day. Having a late afternoon game didn’t allow for a big lunch. At least not for me, so a diner did the trick. “Maybe I should have had a smaller breakfast.”
She laughed once more and turned into the players’ lot. Glancing around, I saw a few of my teammates heading inside. Some had just pulled in, and a group of them were huddled around, talking to someone. I narrowed my gaze and lowered my sunglasses.
Sommer parked, I got out, and when the group parted, I couldn’t help but smile. “My dad’s here.” Turning toward Sommer, I asked, “What’s he doing here?” But before she could answer, my father began to walk toward us.
“Hey, son.”
He wrapped me up in his arms as though I were still fifteen years old, then smacked my back a couple of times, as guys did.
My joy was automatic. It had been a while since I’d seen him. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
His gaze drifted to my left, landing on Sommer. “Hi, Sommer, it’s nice seeing you again.”
“Hi, Cash.”
He kissed her cheek, and then they looked at each other almost in a silent exchange of words. “What am I missing?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“You didn’t tell him?” my dad said, catching me off guard. I turned toward Sommer, and her face seemed to pale as she shook her head. “I’m throwing out the first pitch. There was a schedule change.” His brows pulled together. “You were on the email.”
Sommer smiled. “Right!” She looked at me. “It totally slipped my mind. Surprise!”
Ahh, now it made sense why she’d been so weird this morning. “This is great. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I said more to my dad than to Sommer. “Wait, I thought you were doing that next week. Are Mom and Riley here?”
“It was a last-minute change. Riley has a dance recital next week. And no, she has rehearsals.”
“But this is so much better,” Sommer added. “Father and son are in the same game. You know what, you need to be the catcher. I’ll set everything up. It will be great. I’m going to go and work on some PR.” I almost leaned down to kiss her but stopped myself. “I’ll see you both later.”
Sommer walked away, and my dad and I headed toward the players’ entrance. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to be him. To be at the stadium where you played professional ball, then worked as a scout—and then to have signed me, their number one pitcher. It had to be like reliving it all over again.
“I’m glad you’re here. I wish you would have told me.”
“Honestly, son, as soon as I found out, I got on a plane. You were probably still sleeping ... or busy. I didn’t want to call.”
“It’s fine. I’m happy to see you. I hope you didn’t book a hotel room for tonight.”
“I did, but I’ll cancel. I didn’t want to intrude. I remember what it was like being your age.”
“Damn right you’ll cancel.”
“How are things going with Sommer? You two are getting along okay?”
“Great, actually. We’ll talk about it later.”
He gave me a nod as we approached the building. The outside metal door creaked, and Dad shook hands with the security guard as we made our way down the hall to the locker room. When some of my teammates noticed us, the atmosphere changed. To them, he was Cash Jameson, one of the best pitchers to ever step on the mound. He’d make a great coach because his presence alone seemed to be a calming force. At least for me, it was. He grounded me in a way no one else could. I admired everything about him, including his confidence, which I inherited from him ... thankfully. I just hoped I could bring the team to victory today.
Twenty minutes later, after the guys had chatted with my dad, our GM, Mason, walked in. Unlike when my dad arrived, everyone tensed. Maybe we had all watched too many baseball movies where we waited for the hammer to come down or to find a pink slip in our lockers, but our team connected, and there wasn’t any one player who didn’t pull his weight.
Dad stood, made his way over to him, and shook his hand. They exchanged a few words, and my father nodded, then turned to me. “See you out there, son.”
I nodded back, shrugged on my jersey, and grabbed my mitt and cap from the top shelf in my locker. Remington’s was next to mine, and he had just done the same.
“Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
We filed out of the room, and our metal cleats clicked against the concrete floor of the tunnel leading to the field. Glancing around, I didn’t see my father, but that didn’t surprise me. Most likely, Mason wanted any intel on any prospective players. It didn’t matter that my father wasn’t a scout anymore. He still had his ear to the turf ... so to speak.
Starting our warm-up routine, Remington, Aaron, and I began to jog around the perimeter of the park. Not only did it help my blood flow into my muscles, but it calmed me. It gave me time to clear my head and, believe it or not, prepare a mental game plan for the lineup.
An hour and a half later, the team was standing on the first-base line, waiting for the game to start, while I waited behind home plate.
The hype song ended, and the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. “Hawks fans, please put your hands together, and welcome back to Hawks Stadium ... Cash Jameson as he takes the mound to throw the ceremonial first pitch! Behind the plate is our very own Jimmy Hall, who will be catching his father’s pitch. The turf is yours, gentlemen.”
Pride swelled in my chest as the crowd chanted, “Cash, Cash, Cash” over and over. I smiled as my dad waved to the crowd with his cap, making a complete three-sixty turn to acknowledge everyone. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d still be pitching if he hadn’t been injured. He was only eighteen years my senior, making him forty-two. Granted, he wouldn’t be the youngest, but the oldest guy to ever pitch in the league was over fifty.
How amazing would that have been to be teammates with my father? I watched as he walked toward the center of the diamond. He reminded me so much of myself. That probably stemmed from me studying him all those years before I even knew we shared the same DNA.
Unlike most ceremonial pitchers who stood at the base of the mound, fearful that they’d bounce the ball or throw an errant pitch, my dad didn’t do that. He took his stance as though he were still an active player. I squatted, smiled, and held my glove in position.
A memory of us playing catch in the backyard flashed in my head. Despite being deprived of my young years with him, as soon as he found out that I existed, he immediately fulfilled the father role in all aspects, including baseball.
“Come on, old man,” I playfully shouted even though I knew he didn’t hear me. Or maybe he did because he laced a fastball right down the middle. I laughed, took my mitt off, and playfully shook my hand.
The crowd erupted in cheers as my father and I strode toward each other. Meeting in the middle, we gave each other a hug.
“Great pitch.”
“Don’t ever call me an old man.”
We shared a laugh, waved to the crowd, and jogged toward the dugout. When I turned, I spotted Sommer standing near the on-deck circle, snapping pictures. Damn, she looked positively radiant. Maybe it was the afternoon sun or the way wisps of her hair danced in the gentle breeze. Whatever the reason, I wanted to race across the field, wrap my arms around her, and kiss the fuck out of her.
I couldn’t help but notice a few guys from Denver staring at her. One guy nudged the other, and then his eyes were focused on my girl. That was the shit I hated about our damn secret. All the while, she thought I had the harem of groupies. Little did she know, she had a group of her own. The day she finally gave me the green light, I planned on telling everyone. That would be the one thing I did post on social media.
“Have a good game, gentlemen,” my father said before heading to the owner’s suite. I watched my father stop to autograph some baseballs that fans held out for him.
Our batboy, Archie, came up to me. “Your dad is the coolest.”
“Yeah. He’s the best.”
I glanced at Sommer, who smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I smiled back and thought, So is my girl. She was the best. The best at her job, the best granddaughter, and the best woman for me. There was zero doubt in my head—I was in love with Sommer Bennett.