Page 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

SILAS

“Do your parents live in the country or something?”

Rachel and I shared a silent laugh at Taylor’s question. The drive was only a couple of hours, but as we made our way up the tree-lined highway, it already seemed worlds away from the city.

“Not quite,” I said with a chuckle. “They have a huge deck, and they opened the pool last week, so you ladies can just relax for the weekend.”

“I don’t know about relax,” Rachel whispered. “Are you supposed to feel clammy when you meet your boyfriend’s family for the first time?”

I caught the nervous pull at her features as she pressed the back of her hand over her forehead.

“Hey,” I whispered, grabbing one of her hands. “You have nothing to worry about.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her wrist. “They’re going to love you.”

Like I love you , I wanted to say, but her head seemed scrambled enough. That was a conversation we needed to have alone at home, even though, once we were back, I’d probably keep putting it off.

It had only taken a few months for the gorgeous woman who’d jabbed me in the stomach to become the most important person in my life.

The first thing I did after every game was call her. A win didn’t feel like one until I heard her squeal in my ear. And when the game didn’t go so well or when managing grown men on the road, plus taking on the responsibility of their season and career trajectory, became too much, her sweet voice would soothe me until I felt better.

Even when things were good with my ex-wife, I wouldn’t seek her out to tell her every single thing that went on in my life.

I was hopelessly in love with Rachel but still a little scared to rush us forward.

“The only issue you’re going to have with my parents is that they’re going to fuss over you the whole weekend. I promise to try to buffer it a little.”

“Did you have pool parties?”

“Sometimes. I didn’t have a whole lot of free time when I lived there. When I wasn’t in school, I was at the field or working out before I headed to the field.”

“Really? That’s terrible.”

I smiled at Taylor’s scrunched-up face in my rearview mirror.

Looking back, it didn’t feel like I’d missed out on anything. Baseball was all I’d wanted to do for as long as I could remember, and I’d made it my life. It still was and probably always would be in some capacity. That was why when the guys had a stressful inning or when they were in the middle of a crucial play, it was all I could do to stop myself from grabbing a glove and running onto the field.

All those grueling days of practice and drills never felt like work to me. Being close enough to the game made me feel like I was part of it again, although I was still making peace with it being a much smaller, less active part.

“Holy crap, this is a mansion!” Taylor gasped as I pulled into my parents’ driveway.

When we’d first moved here, the houses in our town were huge to me, compared to the city. I remembered saying the same thing when they’d brought my brother and me to see the house after they’d bought it. It wasn’t a mansion, but it had a closed-in porch and a two-car garage that made it seem bigger than it was.

Our closest neighbor was half a block away, and our yard had been nothing but woods until my father had built the deck.

It had been a big adjustment from our house in the Bronx that was literally on top of our neighbors on either side, just like the brownstone Rachel and Taylor lived in.

Dad had switched jobs from where he’d worked in Manhattan to Westchester County, and he had found a great deal on a house that had needed a ton of renovation. He’d spent most of our childhood fixing it up in parts for us, and the first thing I’d done after I’d signed my first million-dollar contract was pay off their mortgage.

“This is a beautiful house,” Rachel mused as she climbed out of my truck. “I feel like we’re at a resort.”

“If you want to pretend I’m the cabana boy at some point this weekend, I could be into it,” I whispered, pulling her to me as I leaned against the side of my truck.

“Stop, not here,” she said in a loud whisper as she swept her gaze around the driveway.

“Not here,” I repeated. “You and I will be staying in my old room, while Taylor can have my brother’s bedroom all to herself. They redid both as just guest rooms, so neither of you will have to sleep under a Yankee comforter.”

“Still,” she said, letting out a shaky breath. “I don’t want them to think?—”

“Think what? That we’re adults who have sex? Really good sex,” I said, keeping my voice low, but Taylor was too busy looking over the house to pay attention to us. “Do you really think I’d let you sleep anywhere but with me this weekend?” I whispered, squeezing the back of her neck. “No fucking way.”

She fought a smile, her neck still tense even as her eyes heated.

“Silas!”

My mother rushed down the outside steps with my father behind her. She was tiny, only coming up to my chest even when I was in high school. Dad was around my height, the both of us sharing the same golden eyes, dark hair, and massive frame.

My brother was the smaller one. Not as short as my mother but a noticeable head shorter than my father and me.

He called my parents once in a while, but it was rare for him to visit. I wouldn’t say we actively hated each other like when we were kids, and he had reached out when I was hurt to text, “Sorry, tough break.”

I was never sure if it really was jealousy or if we were just too different to connect. Our indifference hurt my parents and they’d tried to fix it by inviting us to come over together, but after a few tries that had netted out to awkward silence, they’d accepted our non-relationship for what it was and had moved on.

Mom pulled me into a hug, her petite arms barely making it around my torso as she held on tight.

“Mom, you just saw me a couple of months ago.” I laughed and kissed the top of her head.

“And that’s plenty of time to miss my son.” She stepped back and squeezed my chin, craning her neck all the way up to look at me. “You look so good,” she said, beaming as she reached up on tiptoes to press her hands against my cheeks.

“Hey, son,” Dad said, giving me a one-armed hug. “Glad you made it up here.” He smiled at Rachel and Taylor. “Want to introduce us to your friends?”

I smiled at Rachel and pulled her into my side.

“This is Rachel and her sister Taylor. They both think our house is amazing.”

“Wait until you see the inside. Ben installed a fireplace last year. I know it’s June, but it’s still nice to look at. I’m Maryanne, and I’m so happy you’re both here.” Mom yanked them both into a hug, almost knocking Taylor to the ground with her boisterous grip.

Mom was little but strong and the parent to fear the few times I’d gotten into trouble.

Rachel caught my gaze as they both bent down to hug her back.

“Told you,” I mouthed to her.

“I’m Ben,” Dad said, grabbing both their hands. “Very happy you came with my son to visit us this weekend.”

“Thank you for having us,” Rachel said, her smile wide and her shoulders softer than when she’d stepped out of my truck.

“Please make yourselves at home,” Dad said, smiling at Rachel and Taylor as he held the front door open.

“Yes, bedrooms are all set for you,” Mom added, motioning to the staircase as we came inside. “Can I get you something to eat or drink? We could sit outside if you want.”

“I’ll get them settled first,” I said, squeezing my mother’s arm. “Then you can give them the full Jones tour.”

“It’s a short tour,” Dad joked. “The house looks a lot bigger from the outside.”

“It’s big inside too,” Taylor said, gazing up at the ceiling.

Had they ever been outside Brooklyn? They’d both lived in the same house since they were born, but I wasn’t sure if they’d gone on any trips or vacations. Rachel had been too busy trying to take care of her sister to think of any kind of fun or rest for herself.

I wanted to give her that, along with everything else she’d missed out on.

“Oh my God,” Rachel gasped as she pointed to a photo on the wall of me on my first little league team back in the Bronx. Even then, I was the tallest kid on the team and had to stand in the back.

“Wasn’t he adorable?” Mom said, coming up behind Rachel.

“Yes, he certainly was.” She craned her neck toward me and smiled. “Viral good looks even then.”

“Viral?” Mom asked, turning to me with a crease in her brow.

“You don’t want to know, Mom,” I said, squeezing her shoulder as Rachel’s gaze swept along the wall. “Let’s get you ladies unpacked,” I told her, pointing up the stairs.

“Did you ever take any pictures not in uniform?” Rachel mused behind me as we climbed the carpeted steps. My parents had lined the staircase with team shots of me from high school until my first professional team picture.

“I’m sure there are a few. We have plenty of time for my parents to walk you down memory lane. This was my room,” I said when we made it to the second floor, pushing the door open. “You can have my brother’s old room all to yourself,” I told Taylor, pointing to the door across the hallway.

“Even the rooms are huge.” Taylor’s eyes were wide as she stepped into my old bedroom, gaping as she scanned the space.

“Bigger than our house, right, Tay?” Rachel said, drifting her gaze around the room. “I think we could fit our kitchen in here. So this is where the legend spent his childhood.” She smirked as she looked back at me.

My posters had been taken down, but some of my trophies were still displayed on top of my dresser.

“I don’t know about legend,” I said.

Rachel heaved out a long sigh, rolling her eyes as she turned to her sister.

“When I had to write his article,” she told Taylor, “I lost count of all his awards from high school through professional baseball. I’d bet there are dozens more trophies in a closet somewhere.”

“Wow,” Taylor said. “I didn’t know that.”

“Because you only knew him from his Instagram fame.”

I bit back a smile at Taylor’s gasp as she scowled at Rachel.

“Yes, I guess a lot think my career started there.”

Taylor’s cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze to the carpet. “Can I bring my stuff to the other bedroom and use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” I said, motioning across the hall. “Like my parents told you, make yourself at home.”

Taylor nodded and padded into the hallway.

“I guess winning a Gold Glove isn’t as important as a viral reel these days,” I said, huffing out a laugh as I leaned against the dresser.

“Maybe not for her demographic,” Rachel said, closing the door with a gentle push. “But everyone in baseball remembers. Don’t be so modest, Coach.”

Before I could reply, she came over to the bed and eased onto the mattress. “So, is this your actual childhood bed?”

“From my teenage years on, yes. They had to buy me a full-size after I outgrew the twin.”

“I see,” she said, her mouth curling into a smirk as she lay back, gliding her hands over the comforter. “How many girls have you had in this room?”

“A few,” I admitted with a shrug. “I can’t give you a number.”

“That many?” she said, pressing a dramatic hand to her chest.

“No, just none that I could remember enough to count,” I said, taking slow steps toward the bed.

She counted. More than I could begin to tell her, even if the words hadn’t been lodged in the back of my throat.

“This is kind of hot,” she whispered, a breathy rasp to her voice as I settled between her legs.

“What is? Being on my bed in broad daylight in a house full of people?” I pressed into her, my cock already hard enough not to care who was here and what time it was.

“Being in the room you grew up in, sleeping in your old bed. I didn’t date any athletes, but this is like the ultimate high school fantasy. Hot jock, small bed.” She raised her brow. “But—” she tapped her finger on her chin “—you went to high school a decade before me, so it wouldn’t have worked in real time.”

She giggled when I pinched the inside of her thigh. In a T-shirt and cutoffs, or anything she wore, Rachel was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

I never thought about our almost ten-year age difference. From the moment I met Rachel, I’d always found her to be wiser than I ever was, at any age.

“I bet a lot of athletes wanted to date you in school, even if you wouldn’t give them the time of day.”

“I went to an all-girls school and wore an ugly plaid skirt every day. Maybe a few wanted to date me. I did have good legs back then.”

“Do you still have the skirt somewhere?” I joked, even though my cock jerked at the thought of her in a schoolgirl uniform, a skirt short enough to show off those curvy thighs, the shadow of a lace bra behind a white button-down shirt. “I may have an old high school jersey in the closet that I can bring home with me. Not that it would fit anymore.”

“Holy shit, are you serious? Could you find it tonight?”

I cracked up when her jaw went slack as she sat up on her elbows.

“Look who’s on board with fucking under my parents’ roof now.” I traced her jaw with the tip of my finger. “My dirty girl has a jersey fetish.”

A mix of shock and heat swam in her chocolate eyes.

“Please don’t call me your dirty girl when I have to go back downstairs and talk to your adorable mother.”

I burst out laughing and dropped my head to her shoulder, peppering kisses along her collarbone and up her neck until I swirled my tongue around the sweet spot behind her ear.

She covered her mouth after she let go of a whimper, meeting my gaze with wide eyes.

“My sweet little live wire,” I teased, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I cinched my arms around her, pulling her to me as tightly as I could, and it still wasn’t close enough.

“Me too, Coach.” She kissed my cheek, wrapping her legs around my waist as she looped her arms around my neck. My body melted against hers, and I wished it could always be just like this.

Maybe this was what it was like to find your other half. All the chaos in my head settled when I was with Rachel. She replaced it with a deep peace and excitement for a future I’d never thought to plan for.

I wanted more than just a weekend or every other week between road trips. Maybe I didn’t know how to say it yet, but I wanted to end all my days with Rachel in my bed.