Page 33 of Liam (Preston Brothers #4)

“Okay, Benny,” Addie says, allowing Mia some grace. “Let’s see what you got.”

Addie plays catcher while Mia sits on the porch steps, watching me throw soft pitches at Benny—none of which connect. This goes on for a good ten minutes, and every time he swings and misses, the light in his eyes dulls more and more.

“I’m never going to get it,” Benny whines, slamming the bat on the ground.

“You will, bud,” I try to soothe. “It just takes practice.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Addie smiles down at him. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” she asks, her voice soft, soothing.

Benny nods, his eyebrows drawn in frustration.

“Want to know a secret?” She doesn’t wait for a response before adding, “It’s supposed to be hard.

Think of all this space,” she says, waving a hand beside him, “and you have this tiny thing.” She grabs the bat.

“Kind of silly, if you ask me. Especially when you feel like the bat isn’t doing what you want it to.

So…” She gently shifts the bat into position, as if Benny’s waiting for the pitch, and carefully adjusts his grip.

“I think… if we can control the bat just a little better, then maybe it might help.” She shrugs.

“Or maybe not. But we can only try, right?”

Benny nods, big brown eyes blinking, taking in every word.

“And if it doesn’t work, then we try again.” Addie stands, assesses Benny once more. “You can rest it a little lower,” she says, showing him exactly where to position the bat. She’s showcasing her experience—not just with baseball, but with kids, too. She grins down at him, assuring. “Perfect.”

I wait until Addie’s moved away to ask, “Ready, buddy?”

Benny nods, taking in one huge breath before preparing. I go back to my pitching position and lob the ball toward him.

He swings. Hits.

“Let’s go, Benny!” Addie cheers.

Mia gets to her feet, clapping. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Benny exclaims, bouncing on his toes. “Another one!” He turns to Addie. “Can you show me again?”

“Of course.”

For a while, Benny hits ball after ball, but it’s obvious his joy and enthusiasm lessen with each passing minute. Even Addie notices it. “What’s wrong, Benny?” I ask, moving toward him.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, gaze lowered.

Addie turns to him, then squats down to his level. “Can I ask you something?”

Benny nods, still pouting.

“Do you enjoy baseball?” she asks, and it’s such a simple question, I’m pissed no one thought to ask before now.

Benny doesn’t answer, and Addie and I glance at each other quickly before facing him again.

“Benny…” I lower myself in front of him, try to catch his eyes. “You don’t have to play if you don’t enjoy it.”

“You know…” Addie starts. “I had the best coaches when I was your age, and you know what they’d always tell me?”

Cameron and Roman were our coaches when we were Benny’s age. They were a couple of years younger than Addie and I are now.

“What?” Benny asks her.

“It ain’t worth playin’—”

“If you ain’t havin’ fun,” I finish.

I don’t know how I forgot about that. They used to drill it into us before every game. I loved playing for them because it was fun. No other reason. Well, there was one. And the fact that she’s here with me right now, over a decade later, is still blowing my mind.

“So what do you think is fun?” Addie asks him.

Benny twists his lips, thinking for a moment. “Dancing.”

I rear back, surprised. “I’ve never seen you dance,” I murmur. At the same time, Addie says, “Heck yeah! Show me your moves.”

Benny laughs at this, the sound as pure and innocent as he is. “I got no music.”

“I can help with that.” I bypass Mia as I run into the studio, grab my phone and portable speaker, and then rush back out. I hand Benny my phone, the music app already open. “Pick your song.”

Benny taps at my phone a few times, then looks up at me as the song begins.

I don’t recognize the beat and, going by the look on Addie’s face, she doesn’t either.

But Benny clearly does. So does Mia, because she’s rolling her eyes, shaking her head.

He drops the bat, throws his arms out in front of him, leans back, and starts shimmying his shoulders.

I stifle my chuckle as I watch Benny dance, his feet stomping. His movements are jerky, arms shaking, hips thrusting back and forth—completely void of any rhythm.

“Look at you!” Addie cheers, her smile full force.

I take my phone from him and look at the song. “Batter Up” by Nelly. “Uh, Benny, how do you know this song?”

“Papa!” He and Mia answer in unison.

Benny adds, “We dance to it all the time.” Papa is Mia’s dad—the billionaire Lincoln is obsessed with. He often flies in on his private jet just to watch his grandson play a little league baseball game. “You dance, too, Addie!”

Addie doesn’t skip a beat. She just copies Benny’s dance moves. And those moves on Benny? Cute.

On Addie? Ridiculous.

And adorable.

“You, too, Uncle Twinny!” Benny shouts.

I shake my head. “Absolute not.”

“Party pooper!” Addie calls out.

“Yeah, party pooper!” Benny agrees.

Benny stops dancing and runs to his mom. “Mama, can I show Addie what’s in my backpack?”

Mia puts on her mom voice. “If Addie would like that.”

“I would love nothing more,” Addie says.

Benny runs to the car, opening the back door to retrieve his backpack, then races back to Addie.

He sits on the dirt ground in front of her, and without a beat of hesitation, she does the same.

He unzips the backpack, pulling out a bag of rocks.

One would think, going by Addie’s reaction, he’s just revealed a case of diamonds.

I watch him explain the more interesting rocks to her before he sets the bag aside and shows her a yo-yo. “I’m learning tricks!” he tells her.

I sit down beside Mia. “When did he get into yo-yos?”

“When his papa purchased a toy company.”

I chuckle.

“Technically, he purchased Benny a toy company, and I’m pretty sure he did it just for the inventory.” From what I understand, Mia’s dad hasn’t always been the best dad, but he’s sure making up for it with Benny.

“You can have my spare,” Benny tells Addie, handing her a yo-yo. “It’s a trade for the fidget clicker.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “We don’t have to trade. It’s a gift.”

“Then the yo-yo is a gift, too!” Benny stands. “I’ll teach you some tricks!”

Addie stands, too, and while Benny’s yo-yo serves its purpose, goes up and down, Addie’s stays down. “Oh, no,” she laughs out. “How—you make it look so easy!”

“You gotta flick your wrist at the right time, look!”

Addie watches him, her brows drawn in concentration. Then she winds up the string and tries again. Same thing. She laughs out loud. “What am I doing wrong?”

Benny laughs with her. “It just takes some practice. Like hitting the ball. It’s supposed to be hard,” he says, repeating her words from earlier. “You have all this string, and it’s hard to know when to flick your wrist.”

Addie tries again, and this time, the yo-yo goes flying forward, then back, then around Addie until the string is wrapped around her legs. Benny and Addie cackle.

I laugh, my shoulders bouncing, and Mia pushes into my side. I shift my eyes to hers. “You look happy,” she says.

“Yeah.” I circle my arm around her shoulders. “I am.”