Page 1 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

Three months ago

“I quit, Mr. Lane. I’m sorry.”

“I—?” My nanny is quitting? I haven’t even been home for thirty seconds. Hell, I’m not even one step inside of the front door, my heavy backpack’s still slung over my shoulder and there’s mud caked on the bottom of my slides that I haven’t had a chance to kick off yet. “What?”

My bag hits the floor with a heavy thud, and I scrub my hands down my face in frustration, or maybe it’s exhaustion. Probably both, it’s been a damn day.

She pushes off the couch to her feet and folds the blanket she’d been sitting under.

“I’m sorry. I know this is abrupt, but I didn’t want to lose the courage.

I just can’t do these late nights, and I know the season is starting soon, so you’ll be traveling.

I’m just realizing this isn’t the gig for me. ”

Fuck . It took me weeks to find Liza—now I’ll have to start all over again.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod curtly. “Understood. Any chance you have a referral for a replacement?”

A friend? A family member? Fucking anyone?

“I’ll put some feelers out. I’m really sorry, Mr. Lane.”

“It’s fine,” I grumble. It’s not fine, but what else am I supposed to say?

She bends over in front of me to pick up her purse by the door, and I avert my eyes, glancing around my living room instead.

“What time did she go to sleep?” A glance at my watch tells me it’s nearing eleven. No wonder Liza is quitting—I told her I’d be home by nine. She isn’t a live-in nanny, and I’m sure my constant tardiness drives her crazy. In my defense, I warned her prior to her taking the job.

She smiles, shifting her hand to curl around the strap of her bag as she readies herself to leave.

“Seven-thirty sharp. I did a load of her laundry earlier, but didn’t wash her stuffed animals since she wanted to sleep with Snug-Bug.

I also bought new berries at the market today, and they’re washed and ready in the fridge. Your credit card is on the counter.”

“Thank you, Liza.”

“No problem. Sorry things didn’t work out on my end.”

“I understand.” Do I, though? She’s only been with us for two months.

Sure, my time management sucks, but when she interviewed to nanny for a single dad she should have known.

Unfortunately, things have been a lot busier than I anticipated they’d be when I hired her, but I’m gearing up for my first year as head coach .

And although I’m no spring chicken at thirty-six years old, I’m the youngest the Bridge Point Bears have ever had. Which is why I’ve been pulling such long hours to prove myself, not only to the managerial staff, but to my team.

Because goddamn, do I have my work cut out for me with these guys.

Opening the front door, I hold it for her. “Thanks for everything.”

“Please tell Sailor I said bye.” She gives me a small wave, then walks out the front door, never once looking back.

I watch and make sure she makes it safely into her car parked on the street, then shut the door. Slumping against it, I mutter a curse.

Finding a nanny to work for a single dad is hard enough—I know what it’s like for women these days, and I don’t fault them for being leery of men.

Hell, if I were female, I’d be cautious, too. So the second they learn there is no missus, half of the candidates lose interest in scheduling an interview to meet me and my three-year-old daughter.

Then, it’s a game of Goldilocks to find the right fit for us.

I really don’t want to go through this again, but I have no other choice.

Sailor deserves far more than a revolving door of babysitters, she deserves someone who loves her and will give her the best care, day in and day out, when that person can’t be me.

And I’m determined to find the perfect woman for the job, no matter what.

“C’mon, Sailor, Daddy’s going to be late!” The clock on the wall taunts me, reminding me we should have left ten minutes ago. My meeting with the Bears’ execs is in less than thirty minutes, and I need to make it across Bridge Point in the next twenty.

“But I want Snug-Bug!” Sailor stomps her little foot on the ground, her arms crossed with a sour look on her face.

“Snug-Bug just went into the dryer, Sail. He’ll be nice and clean by the time we get home.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and she gives me the goddamn pouty lip that makes my heart tear to shreds every single time.

“How about a cookie?” I scoop her up, succumbing to bribery.

With Sailor on my hip, I open the pantry and use one hand to pop the lid on the plastic container full of Oreos.

Her little grabby hands swipe it from me, so I grab another, sticking it between my teeth, then shift one to the hand I’m holding her with.

With Sailor distracted, I bolt to the front door, stopping only to pick up my backpack and lock the house up. When I’ve finally wrangled my daughter into her car seat, I haul ass through town—safely of course, but as fast as I can.

She isn’t supposed to come with me, but since my nanny quit last night, my only option is to bring her.

The sound of Ms. Rachel floats through the car from her tablet, and I hope to God the device keeps her busy during this meeting.

Today is not a day for no screen time.

Traffic is light, thankfully, and I pull into a parking spot adjacent to the stadium and hang my parking permit with minutes to spare. It leaves me enough time to get us into the conference room that overlooks the ballpark.

Depositing her into a leather office chair that engulfs her tiny frame, I prop her tablet in her lap, lay her favorite blanket next to her, and hand her the last Oreo. She doesn’t even look up at me by the time I’ve frantically situated her, but I can’t say the same for the audience I now have.

When I take my seat, all eyes are on me.

Considering this is only my second meeting with the executives, my heart is hammering. Hopefully, I’m not canned for bringing my kid.

“You brought your kid?” Blake Bradley, the team’s owner, scoffs, ironically echoing my thoughts. His eyes scrutinize me, but I hold my head high. He's not much older than I am, but he’s the one looking out of place, wearing a three-piece suit at a ballpark. Fuckin’ billionaires.

“My nanny quit on me last night.” I lean back, draping my arm over the armrests of mine and Sailor’s chairs.

“Oof. That’s a toughy.” Clive, the team’s accountant, taps his pen against the lined-yellow notepad in front of him.

“I’ll find another.” Eventually . I’m not holding out hope that this will be a speedy process.

The conversation gets cut short when Blake begins speaking about the upcoming season, potential trades, and finances.

Around the oblong conference table sit the most important men behind the scenes for the Bridge Point Bears: the owner, the in-house lawyers, our accountant, and, of course, the coaches, myself as the head coach and manager, and my four assistant coaches.

Our team is the strongest we’ve ever been behind-the-scenes , and if we secure the trades Blake’s hoping we do, we’ll be a force on the field as well.

For years, the Bears have been the underdogs in the majors, but since Blake Bradley bought the team two years ago, things have been looking up significantly.

With loads of cash at his disposal, he’s dumped it into higher salaries, better trade offers, and incredible upgrades to an already brand new stadium.

My promotion came at the perfect time, and I’m grateful for the previous coach’s glowing recommendation prior to retirement. I was a shoo-in, having worked for the Bears since I was eighteen. Baseball’s been my life since I was four and started Little League. It’s in my blood. In my DNA.

I eat, sleep, and breathe baseball.

Just being a player for the Bears, or any other team, would've never been enough for me.

I wanted it all . I wanted to coach. Be the head coach .

And now I am.

An hour and a half, and a pissed off three-year-old later, we’re all clearing the room, done for the day.

“Hey, Lane, you got a moment?” Clive pushes his wire-framed glasses further up his nose, stepping around the table closer to me.

“That’s not Daddy’s name. Daddy’s name is Declan.” Sailor's nose scrunches, then she looks back down at her tablet, now blaring Bluey .

Clive chuckles, shifting his shoulder bag while smiling down at my girl. “Yes, yes, you’re right, little one. Sometimes we call your dad by your last name, though.” His eyes meet mine. “I might have an answer to your nanny problem.”

“Oh?” My backpack hits my shoulders roughly as I toss it on, listening while preparing to leave.

“Why?” Sailor looks up at Clive with confusion. I pick her up and settle her in my arms.

The old man smiles in amusement at Sailor, then shifts his gaze back to me.

“I recently rented one of my townhouses to a young woman who’s getting her masters through Ridgewood U.

Very sweet gal. She mentioned how she wanted to find a job working with kids, since her degrees are in education.

She currently works in retail. Anyway, I could contact her to see if she'd babysit for you.”

“I really need more of a nanny than a babysitter. You know how grueling the on-season schedule can be.”

Clive swishes his hand in my direction as he looks down the curve of his nose to his phone’s screen. He roughly taps a few times before bringing it to his ear.

“You’re calling her now ?” I shift Sailor’s weight and use my other hand to adjust my backpack.

“No better time than the present—oh! Hi, Hailey. How are you?” He listens intently, nodding as the woman talks.

I know absolutely nothing about this girl. Not her name—although, I guess it’s Hailey—her age, or if she even lives in Bridge Point.

“Clive, it’s fine. I can just put out an ad,” I gruffly whisper, embarrassment flickering through me.

He ignores me. “Glad to hear it. I’m thrilled you’re settling in. Hey—question. You’d said you wanted to work with the youngsters. Any interest in being a nanny?”

It feels like time halts while we both wait for her response, although I can’t hear their conversation.

A smile breaks out on Clive’s face. “That’s wonderful!

The coach for the Bears is looking for someone to help with his daughter.

Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker.” He jams his finger against the screen, then holds the device flat on his palm.

“Hailey, I have Declan here. Let me catch him up to speed.”

Because the conversation is so complex?

“Hailey said she loves to work with kids and is interested in talking to you more about watching Sailor.”

“Hey, Declan,” Hailey’s soft and sensual voice flits through the phone. It stirs something inside of me that I immediately ignore.

“Hi, Hailey. I’m so sorry, Clive and I are catching you off guard.”

“No worries at all! So you’re in the market for a nanny? How old is your daughter?”

“Sailor is three. She goes to preschool a couple days a week, but my hours with the team are all over the place, and I could use the extra help.” I don’t tell her my last nanny quit on me because she hated my inconsistent schedule. “Clive mentioned you’re getting your masters, though, and I, uh?—”

On instinct, my fingers sweep through my overgrown hair. Fuck, this suddenly feels incredibly awkward.

Hailey laughs, probably sensing the tension radiating off me through the phone. “My classes are all online, so an unpredictable schedule is not a problem.”

“Okay, great. It’s probably a good idea for you to come to the house, then we can discuss everything, and you can get a feel for Sailor. See if it’s a good fit.”

Glancing up, my eyes meet Clive’s again. He has a wide smile on his face and nods enthusiastically, giving a thumbs-up.

For some inexplicable reason, my chest tightens when I look back down at the phone, completely unaware that less than ten words would be the start of life as I know it changing forever.

“Sure! I’d love to meet you both. How’s tomorrow?”