Page 25 of Knox (Comeback Duet #2)

Knox

We took the series against the Dodgers two games to one, but the wins didn’t feel as sweet as I’d expected.

It wasn’t the games themselves. Those had gone well.

Our defense was on point, the lineup produced runs, and I’d reached base in all three games.

It was the part after the games, when I was alone in my hotel, that didn’t go how I hoped.

The calls with Crew had been short, and some we’d missed completely. When we did talk, our conversations consisted of quick updates about his hand and how the team was doing. He was juggling a lot back home, and I missed him. I missed Grady too.

Now the guys and I were in San Francisco and headed to a team dinner at a seafood restaurant Parker insisted on going to.

We occasionally had team dinners the night before a new series, and they weren’t just for those of us who were on the roster.

Family was important to Parker, and that extended to how he treated his players, especially when we were on the road.

If anyone’s spouse, partner, or children happened to be in town, they were also invited.

Inside, we were led to a private room where Parker’s dad, the Giants’ legend Joel Parker, was sitting with his wife Francine, and Parker and Rockland’s daughters.

Parker had grown up in the city and ended his playing career with the Giants, so he was a local hero as well.

Joel continued to live in the area with his wife, who happened to be Rockland’s mom.

Yes, that meant our manager and his husband were technically stepbrothers.

It didn’t matter to us that they’d gotten together before their parents had.

The jokes practically wrote themselves, and luckily, they both had a good sense of humor and took our teasing in stride when we’d rip them about it.

Once the greetings were done and everyone was seated, we ordered our food, and then Joel began sharing stories and answering questions about his time playing.

Everyone was relaxed and having a good time, but I couldn’t stop watching how Parker and his husband interacted with each other and with their daughters. It made that ache in my chest from being away from Crew and Grady tighten a little more.

Matthewson, who was sitting next to me, nudged my elbow with his and waited until I looked over.

“You good?” he asked, keeping his voice low enough so those around us couldn’t hear.

“Yeah,” I answered automatically. “Just tired.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

I gave a small chuckle. “Fine. I’m missing Crew and Grady.”

He nodded like he understood. He probably did since he had played professional ball when his kids were little. “It’s hard not to when you’re surrounded by other families, but you’ll be together again soon.”

“It’s not even that I want to be home,” I admitted.

“I want to be here. I want this. Baseball has always been what I wanted, but I also want that.” I gestured toward Skip and his family.

“Lately, it’s been hard for me to figure out my place with them.

With the team, I know what’s expected of me.

With Crew and his son, I’m still unsure of exactly how I fit. ”

“You can’t figure that out overnight. Hell, it took Gage and me a while to get a handle on our family dynamics, but eventually everything settled into place. I’m sure it’ll be the same for you and Stratton.”

I wanted that to be true. I really did.

But wanting something didn’t always make it happen.

Before our second game, I made a quick detour to the Ghirardelli store in case I didn’t have time the next day before we left town. The shop was touristy as hell, but I couldn’t return to Portland empty-handed.

I picked out a couple of chocolate and caramel squares for Grady, some dark chocolate for Crew, some with raspberry filling for Mallory, and mint chocolate for Archer since I remembered him mentioning being a fan of mint chip ice cream when Grady asked him his favorite flavor.

When I got to the stadium, most of the team was already there. The mood in the clubhouse was high since we’d won the night before, and everyone was laughing at Ramos and Pearson, who were chirping at each other from opposite sides of the room.

As I tugged my practice jersey over my head, my phone buzzed. I almost ignored it, assuming it was a notification from The Loop, but Crew and I hadn’t posted anything for several days since we didn’t have any couple’s content to share.

Thankfully, I decided to check because it was a text from Crew:

Getting ready to leave the Portland Saturday Market so we can be home in time to watch you kick ass

The message was followed by a photo of Grady holding a giant soft pretzel in one hand and a drink in the other, and I smiled.

Crew stood behind him in a backwards hat, black T-shirt, and jeans, looking hot as hell with a grin on his face and his arm casually slung over Mallory’s shoulder.

Anyone looking at the picture would see a happy family.

At first, the image made me smile. It was good to see them out and having fun, and I was glad Mallory was feeling up to walking around a bit. But the longer I looked at the picture, the more the smile slipped from my face.

When I’d gone to the zoo with Crew and Grady, we’d looked just as picture-perfect. Just as close. And maybe that was the problem.

Because looking at the three of them, it hit me. They didn’t need me for them to be okay.

And no matter how much Crew loved me or how much I loved them both, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe I was an extra piece in a puzzle that was already complete.

I stared at the photo for a few more seconds, then typed out a reply:

Looks like a perfect Saturday. Tell G my homer will be for him. Miss you guys

I hit send, then put my phone in my locker. It was almost time for batting practice, and I needed to get my head in the game. At least baseball was the one place I didn’t have to question where I fit.