Page 26

Vivienne

Before working at Double Play, I'd never been to a baseball game. I grew up in a football family--my brothers played and my dad raised us all to be die-hard Miners fans. To this day, he's still a season ticket holder.

Back then, he claimed the tickets were to entertain business partners, but over the years he's taken my brothers and nephews more than he's ever taken potential distributors or clients.

Since starting this job three years ago, I've been to dozens of Bandits games, but this is the first time I'm going in an unofficial capacity and my stomach is twisted like the pretzels they sell in the concession stands.

Tight knots of nerves and excitement have my stomach flipping and I might vomit all over the peanut-covered concrete. In the days since my emotional dinner with Tenley, I've prioritized time with her, only calling and texting Xavier when she wasn't around. His schedule of back-to-back home games has made it impossible for us to see each other anyway. All his free time has rightfully been spent with his daughter before he goes back on the road.

Tonight, I'll get to see him and even if it's only from the stands while he plays, I can't deny it has me absolutely giddy. Tenley arranged for us to sit with the other Bandits families behind the dugout. Normally the wives sit in the outfield, but with Holland coming, we're sitting behind the protection of the net, and close to her dad.

"It's really early. We should have waited." Tenley nervously chews on her lip, focusing on the field where the players are taking batting practice.

"This is perfect." I pat the seat next to me, coaxing her to sit. My eyes drop to Holland, who's strapped to her chest. "Let's take her out while she's awake so she doesn't get too hot."

Reaching into my small belt bag I grab the surprise I brought.

"Stop! That's adorable. You got her that?" Tenley's excitement is written all over her smug face.

"Just shut up, will you?" I laugh. God, she's impossible. I wanted to do something nice for Xavier. Without his ex in the picture, he doesn't have someone to make moments like this special and, well, he deserves this. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, of course. Seems legit."

I clutch the tiny teal jersey to my chest, looking around frantically. "Oh screw off, Ten." When I'm sure no one who matters is watching, I set it across my lap, fingers brushing over the tiny letters that spell out Kingsley.

My gaze snags on the number seven and then does a sweep of the field, looking for the other number seven, but I don't find him. My neck prickles with embarrassment when I ask, "Is it too much? Should I just--" I unzip my purse, ready to shove it back inside, when Tenley's hand covers my arm, stopping me.

"It's perfect. He's gonna love it."

Chewing my lips, I check the field again. "Okay, let's change her before he comes out to stretch."

Tenley nods in agreement, quickly unstrapping the baby carrier and laying Holland across her lap so I can slip her tiny arms through the jersey and pull it over the light denim romper she's wearing.

"Oh my god," Poppy says when she catches sight of us, leading the rest of the women down the stairs. "Quick, someone cover Lilah's eyes. This is so cute it might make her spontaneously produce a twin."

I look and find all four of them watching in delight.

"I hate you," Indie says, her lashes glittering with unshed tears. "I'm going to fucking cry when he sees her and I'm absolutely going to blame the egg retrieval hormones."

This is too much. Tenley was right. Situationships don't do this. I should leave. The other girls are here and they'll be more than happy to help with Holland. But when I look at Tenley, I know I can't bail on her, especially not after what an asshole I was the other night.

"Ladies, I'm going to need you to chill. She's one comment from a freak out. It's not that deep," my niece says, her tone placating and making me feel like one who needs a babysitter.

Thankfully, they take pity on me and don't say another word about the fact that Holland is clad in her dad's number, thanks to me. Instead, they refocus their giddy chatter on the guys who are jogging out onto the field for warm-ups.

Next to me, the girls are gushing over their men, and it stings because I want to join in, but Xavier's not mine. Not really. I rub my knuckles over my breastbone, trying to ease the ache there. I'm as left out now as I was as a teen. Or maybe the sting there is because of the man in question. I don't know and I'm not sure I want to.

All of that is washed away when he steps out of the dugout and spots me in the crowd.

If I was brave enough to claim him publicly, I'd be vocally celebrating the way his pinstripe pants hug his thighs, highlighting the sharp line of his quad muscle that you see through the fabric. There'd be raving about his devotion, not just to his little girl--the same one that's suddenly being thrust into my arms--but to his sport.

"Hold her. He'll want a picture of this."

The look she gives me spells trouble, but it's nothing compared to my ovaries twitching at Xavier's approach. The All-Star catcher eats up the dirt between us with his sure strides. The uniforms alone are hot, but the catcher's gear gives him an edge over everyone else on that field.

His cocky smile fades, replaced with genuine awe when he notices the jersey his daughter is wearing.

Raw emotion paints his face, his hand dragging over his mouth as his steps slow. He looks from his daughter to me and I lick my dry lips, trying to hear anything over the pounding in my ears.

A sound that gets louder when he flips his hat backward as he approaches the net. When he's all but pressed against the black barrier, I step forward, bringing Holland to him.

There's not a functioning brain cell in my body as Xavier reaches through the net with his fingers and takes his daughter's hand. Luckily, for both of us, Indie springs into action, working the zipper on the net free, creating an opening a few seats down.

"Did you do this?" he asks quietly, as he follows me down the row.

"Tenley planned the game, but yeah, the jersey was me. Is that okay?"

"Is it--" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Yeah, it's okay, sweetheart. It's more than okay. No one's ever done something like this for me before."

I look up from where he's scooping a sleeping Holland out of my arms to find wonder glittering in his icy blues. My heart kickstarts in my chest and I know that if I get the chance, I'll keep doing things like this for him because, judging by the way he grabs on to my wrist, squeezing gently, no one else ever has.

"Thank you," he mouths as he dips his head to bury his nose in the crown of red hair that matches his own.

The moment is short but no less sweet as Tenley snaps a few more pictures. There's a shout from behind him and Xavier glances over his shoulder, then back down to his daughter before he leans through the netting and places her back in my arms for safe keeping.

His strong arm comes around my shoulder, nearly throwing me off balance when he pulls both of us to his chest. "Meet me after the game." He nods towards the woman watching behind us. "The girls can help you three get down there."

"We'll do our best, but it's kind of up to this one."

Xavier folds over us brushing a kiss on Holland's cheek. "Be good so daddy can thank Vivi properly after the game." My blood heats at the unspoken meaning behind his statement.

Stepping back, he focuses his attention on Tenley over my shoulder. "I want copies of those pictures. You made my whole season, kid."

"Don't make it weird, Ginger Daddy, it was nothing."

He shakes his head and I cringe at the nickname. Xavier jogs back to his team and an usher comes over to zip the window up. It's a good thing too, because I'm busy watching number seven cross the field, his tight pants giving me the best view in the stadium.

"Don't drool on the baby," Tenley says with a healthy dose of sarcasm, taking her from my arms.

"Ginger Daddy," I mumble to her, my head cocked in question.

"It drives him crazy, and not in the same way it would if it were coming out of your mouth."

I snicker. She's the same way with my brothers, always doing her best to get under their skin. "I bet it does."

She returns to her seat with Holland, looking smug.

"What exactly are your intentions with our catcher?" Poppy asks, leaning over the arm of her seat.

"She's using him for orgasms." Once again, Tenley displays her utter lack of filter.

"Ten!" I whisper-shout.

"Own it, Aunt Vi. That's what it is, a situationship. There's no shame as long as no one gets hurt."

Her warning looms over me and I don't like the way it's becoming a little less possible to not develop feelings for this man with each passing day.

My focus is drawn to where he's stretching on the field only to find him watching me with a lopsided smirk. It packs a punch I know will stick throughout the game and I issue a silent plea that Holland lets me claim that thank you from him.

"Give her a break, Tenley. Your aunt deserves good sex just like the rest of us."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell them we haven't gotten quite that far yet, when a groan comes from next to me. "I'm all for it. In fact, up until recently I'd been trying to hook her up with my hot professor, but I don't want to hear details."

"Why does it feel like she's babysitting us?" Indie asks from the other side of Poppy.

"Because she's more mature than both of you." Lilah laughs and then adds, seriously, "Tenley, would you consider being cloned before this baby arrives?"

"Cloning is a myth, Mama." We all turn to look at my niece who's bouncing Holland in her arms.

"You're a nursing student, a future medical professional--a scientist," I scoff.

"It's true though, I did this whole deep dive on it. There's no irrefutable proof available to the public that Dolly was ever cloned. And there's no way it's real to the extent the government claims, and not one single bad guy has used it to their advantage yet. I'm not buying it."

I shake my head. There's no point in arguing with her, but even if I wanted to, the announcer's voice breaks up the conversation, asking us to stand for the national anthem.

The first two innings are relatively uneventful, and I get some time to talk to the girls that I don't know as well. Honestly,they're all delightful, and I'd be happy to talk to them all night. But the guys have other plans.

With two outs in the bottom of the second inning, Cruz takes the plate. He's the first of the group to bat this inning and sends the ball sailing over the third baseman's head.

For a pregnant woman in her third trimester, Lilah is still incredibly agile--cheering and jumping up and down when her husband rounds third base. She's practically climbing the netting as he kicks up a cloud of dust, sliding headfirst into home plate right in front of us, and I'm afraid she's going to go into labor when he struts over after the ump signals him safe to place a kiss on her belly and then her lips from the field.

Following Cruz's run, it's a parade of baseball boys showing off for their women. One after another, they shamelessly flirt with their significant others while they play.

"You know they're never going to let us go back to sitting in the outfield now," Mia comments when Dean winks at her from outside the batter's box, making a show of adjusting his pants. It's a seemingly innocent gesture as his hand is nowhere near his dick, until he pulls his helmet down, covering his face for everyone not immediately in front of him and winks at his girlfriend.

"Well, shit, I think Mia just got pregnant," Lilah jokes.

"Can't get pregnant twice," Mia says under her breath, her face morphing from dazed to panicked.

We all turn to look and find Mia and Poppy staring at each other wide-eyed, completely missing the at bat.

"Care to repeat that louder for the rest of us?" Lilah laughs while the sisters-in-law glance back and forth between each other. Mia's jaw tenses with worry. We wait while a silent conversation passes between them, both of them crossing their arms and squaring off.

It's Poppy who speaks first. "I didn't hear anything. Did you, Mia?"

"Nope," she says.

Indie's eyes shift back and forth like they're watching that game they play on the jumbotron with the ball under the hat. Finally, she throws up her hands. "Fine, torture us." Indie's voice turns soft. "Please don't let me stop you from sharing your news." She waves a hand in front of her face. "Fucking hormone shots. I promise these are tears of excitement for any news that may or may not be coming."

Holland's sleeping soundly after her bottle and diaper change during the seventh inning stretch. She's been an absolute doll as we passed her around, taking turns cuddling her, the carrier all but forgotten.

Or at least she's trying to sleep soundly, but things get tense in the ninth and I have to pass her to Tenley, who's the least invested in the outcome of the game.

The rest of us are barely hanging on, clinging to the edge of our seats when the Diablos load the bases up for a potentially game-changing rally. With two outs and only one point behind us, they're in position to take the lead. Every pitch ratchets up my pulse. It looks like the Bandits might be in trouble with a full count on the batter, until he fouls it high in the air.

My fingers wrap around the armrest, and I suck in a nervous breath, the ball climbs and climbs, before turning back towards the earth. Xavier rips off his mask, tossing it to the side. Head tilted back, he tracks the ball as it comes closer. It's a race between him and gravity. Using the dugout railing for leverage, he throws his whole body into it, stretching and snagging the ball before he flips over the railing. I swear my heart stops for a moment, and then, when he pops back up with the ball in his glove, it restarts.

The catch ends the game and I absolutely lose it--much to Xavier's delight. He dusts himself off and smirks at me right before his team swarms him and I lose sight of him in the chaos of the celebration.

We pass the time in our seats talking about the upcoming Fourth of July holiday. When the girls find out I don't have plans, they don't quit until I've agreed to spend the day with them watching the game and lounging in Dom and Indie's pool. The crowd begins to thin and we all head to the family waiting area together.

While everyone else lounges on the couch, looking completely at home, I pace the length of the room.

"You're making me dizzy. Sit down," Indie says from the opposite end of the couch.

I shouldn't be here.

Tenley laughs. "If you don't belong here, I'm definitely out of place."

"It's not the same and you know it." I twirl a lock of hair around my finger, studying it. "You're his nanny and you four are all wives and girlfriends."

"Fiancé," Poppy reminds me cheerfully.

"Right, that's what I mean. I'm nothing."

"Do you want to be here?" Mia asks without judgment.

"Yes," I say on a shaky breath, my feet stopping.

"Then you belong here," Lilah says, like it's the simplest thing in the world. It's said with such earnestness that I believe her without question.