Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Easton
We leave the Mexican restaurant, stuffed full of tacos and tortilla chips and freshly made salsa.
I would’ve danced with her the entire night if she had let me.
I’ll have to thank Roberto one day for putting that into action. As if I would let him have the pleasure of dancing with Hadley and not get to experience it myself.
“You’re pretty good at navigating these streets.” Hadley looks at me, her hand snug in mine.
“You get good at dodging crowds and finding streets off the beaten path so you aren’t stopped every two minutes.” As I say it, I turn us down a side street toward an ice cream place where I’m sure we’ll run into fans, but I don’t plan on us eating the ice cream there, so we’ll manage.
“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be.”
I shrug. “It’s part of the deal. I’ve grown used to it, and honestly, most people are respectful. I remember what it was like being young and looking up to the players. If I’d gotten a chance to meet one of them in Alaska and they’d been a dick, it would’ve crushed me.”
She leans a little closer, her shoulder brushing mine. “That’s a good way to think about it. I’m stuffed by the way.”
“Find some room, we’re getting ice cream.”
“Easton, I don’t think I can eat anything more.”
“Then you can have a few licks of mine.”
The two of us laugh.
She shakes her head at me. “Seriously?”
“I honestly didn’t mean it like that.”
We reach the ice cream place, and as I expected, a lot of people are inside, but thankfully the line isn’t too long.
“Are you sure you want to go in there?” Hadley asks.
“It’s not like we have to worry they’ll take pictures. You’re my wife, remember?” I tighten my hand in hers, opening the door. “Plus, we’re not staying. I have another destination in mind.”
She turns back toward me, waiting for me to follow her in. “I like this night of fun with Easton Bailey.”
“Better than your other ones?” I waggle my eyebrows. Just the memories of us together make my dick twitch, which isn’t ideal when you’re headed into an ice cream place filled with families.
“They both have their upsides.” Her eyes shine with mischief.
I want to tell her we’re taking the ice cream back to the hotel room so I can lick it off every inch of her body.
She sets her hand on my chest. “Time to cool things down before we ditch the ice cream.”
“I was actually thinking we could mix the two things up.”
We get into line behind another couple.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” She stares at the menu as we inch up in line.
I wrap my arms around her because I have almost no self-control when it comes to Hadley these days.
It’s not for anyone to snap a photo; it’s strictly because I want to touch her, hold her, and feel her softness against my hardness.
I don’t know how much longer I can pretend there isn’t more between us.
She sets her hands over my linked arms, which I take as a sign that she’s okay with this.
“What are you going to get?” I whisper in her ear.
“Raspberry with dark chocolate. Just a scoop.”
“Are you going to let me have a lick?” I whisper. My head is tipped so far down I could run my tongue along her neck.
I hear her breath hitch. “You’re playing games.”
“No games. I’ve never tried that flavor. It’s an honest question.”
Hadley turns her head toward me, and I’m sure she’s going to say some smartass comment, but I press my lips to hers before she can. She doesn’t draw back or stop the kiss.
We don’t go any further than a chaste kiss, and as we pull away when the young cashier calls for the next customer, our eyes remain on one another’s.
Things are shifting, we both know it, and it seems I’m the one pushing it there.
Hadley snaps her head forward and breaks out of my embrace, placing her order.
I decide on a salted caramel chocolate scoop and pay for the two of us.
We file down to the waiting area, and I hear the murmurs and whispers, knowing I’ve been spotted before Hadley does.
“We’re about to be bombarded,” I whisper in her ear.
She glances around as two boys and a girl run up to us.
“Easton Bailey?” the oldest one asks. They all have napkins in hand and a pen that their mom probably dug out of her purse.
“How are you guys tonight?” I bend down so I’m at their level.
They tell me their favorite ice cream flavors, and I sign their napkins. Then I take pictures with them. Apparently they were the bravest ones, because after them, more kids and adults come over to tell me how much they love the Colts and how great of a player I am.
No one criticizes me tonight, but I’ve been on that side of it too. After we lost the World Series last year, not all Chicago fans were nice about it. It’s always the ones who think they could coach better than Ripley or make a play I didn’t that have the loudest voices.
I’m not even sure how long it takes, but when I’m finally done, Hadley isn’t at my side anymore. She waves to me from a nearby table, both of our ice creams in front of her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know I have to share you.” She spoons some of her raspberry chocolate ice cream into her mouth.
“Let’s get out of here.” I pick up my ice cream, clasp her hand, and lead us out of the shop before I get bombarded again. Once we’re outside, I say, “I’m sorry again.”
I guide us to the Riverwalk, hoping we’ll have more peace down there to talk and be alone. I wish I had a genie at my disposal who could stop time so tonight never ends.
Hadley shrugs. “You don’t have to apologize. I get it.”
We head down the steps to get off Michigan Avenue and to a quieter area.
Mission accomplished, there aren’t as many people here. With the lights being warm and dim, the darkness will be our friend.
“Why baseball?” she asks once we’re walking along the river.
“What do you mean?” I hold out a spoonful of my ice cream, and she opens her mouth.
She makes a sound of approval low in her throat that I attempt to ignore before my libido takes over. “Oh, that’s yummy… I mean what made you want to be a baseball player?”
I laugh because once she hears the story, she’ll realize there was no other choice. “First let me try yours.”
“Dodging the question?” She spoons her ice cream and holds it out to me. I wrap my lips around her spoon, and she slides it out, her eyes fixated on my mouth.
Maybe ice cream was a bad idea.
“That is good. I’m gonna want another bite.”
“So…”
“Oh yes, baseball… well, my name is Easton, so that should give you a clue as to how big baseball is in my family.”
It takes her a minute, but I see in her expression when she puts the name of the baseball company together with how I was named.
“My dad played ball. He went to USC on a scholarship. But his parents died when he was twenty-one, just as he was about to enter the draft, and he went home to raise his siblings. He’s the oldest of nine.
He and my aunt made a deal. He would raise the kids, and she would take over the family lumber business.
Then when my aunts, who are twins, were about to graduate high school, he met my mom.
He got offered a coaching position at USC but turned it down to stay in Lake Starlight with my mom. ”
I think of all the sacrifices my parents made to get me here. Now I have a child and don’t know who the mom is, and I’m in a fake marriage.
My dad gave up his dream twice for the ones he loved most, and I wonder if I’d do the same.
“Wow, that’s so admirable.”
We find a bench away from anyone else. I wait for her to sit, then I sit next to her.
“Yeah, big shoes to fill being raised in a town where your dad is treated like a king.”
She squeezes my knee, and I let the silence fall.
“I love it, though. I mean, I’m sure my dad would’ve understood had I not wanted to play.
Maybe because he had me throwing a ball as soon as I could is part of it.
But I love the game, and this is gonna sound really arrogant, but the more success I have with it, the more I love it. I’ve been really fortunate.”
“The city’s favorite Colt.” She knocks shoulders with me, lightening the mood.
I glance at her. “I guess.” I laugh.
“Isn’t it hard to be on so much?” She spoons the last of her ice cream and holds it out to me.
“Nah, it’s the last bit.”
She inches it closer to my lips. “I want you to have it.”
“Then you have mine.” I scoop the rest of mine and hold the spoon to her.
We both open our mouths, feeding each other, our eyes locked.
Once we finish, I take our cups and throw them away in the trash can before returning to her. Her legs are up and tucked into her body, her arms around them.
I sit a little closer to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
“I’m never not myself. I feed off people’s energy.
I’m an extrovert, so it’s not hard, but there are times that it gets a little much.
Like tonight, when we can’t just be a normal couple on a date.
It’s always in the back of my head, trying not to get recognized or not wanting anything to interrupt us.
I haven’t felt that way in a long time, though. ”
Her head falls back, and she looks at me. “I had a really great night.”
I want to kiss her, but we don’t have any witnesses here that I have to sell us to. There would be no reason to kiss her except me wanting to.
“Me too,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her forehead.
I pull back, and I swear that’s disappointment in her eyes.
How long can we really keep this act going? Holding back isn’t a me thing, so why am I doing it now?