Page 3 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

Closing the door to Sailor's bedroom, I walk away quietly, hoping she stays asleep. Most nights, I wait until her breathing evens before slipping out into the hallway, but tonight I couldn’t help but lie with her a little longer.

Her mother called me today.

Hearing from Addison always throws me in a tailspin if for no reason other than I can’t stand the woman.

I don’t think I could ever fully hate her—she gave me the most precious part of my life—but I certainly don’t respect her.

She walked out when Sailor was just thirteen months old to pursue a career in acting, moving across the state to Hollywood without so much as a second thought for Sailor.

At the end of the day, though, it’s Addison who’s missing out.

Which is why it’s so important to me that Sailor is always surrounded by people who love and care about her.

With a job as demanding as mine, finding the perfect nanny for our family was a feat similar to finding a needle in a haystack, but Hailey, so far, has been amazing.

It scares me how easily Sailor bonded with her. She’s never been so comfortable around a nanny. Their fondness for each other was immediate, but that’s more of a testament to Hailey’s caring nature than my daughter’s overly friendly one.

It also scares me how much my curiosity is piqued by the woman caring for my daughter.

She’s exactly my type, and I should have run for the hills after we met, but instead, I gritted my teeth and hired Hailey, knowing she was exactly what Sailor needed, too.

She deserves the best, and I can push aside my physical attraction for the redheaded vixen, especially if it's in the best interest of the littlest love of my life.

When I make it back into my bedroom, I sink down onto the edge of my bed and drop my face in my hands, letting the tension of the day seep from my pores.

The Bears are going to be the death of me, or the cause of an early heart attack.

With a roster of players younger than most in the majors, I feel like I’m the one babysitting these days.

They’re lucky they can play the hell out of a ballgame, or I’d be bitchin’ to Blake, the team owner, about his approval skills.

Speaking of, my phone begins vibrating incessantly in my pocket again. With a deep groan, I swipe my hand down my face, stopping to rub my beard, then thrust my hips forward to pull my phone out.

My brows knit together as messages fly across the screen. I ignored this new group chat earlier, hoping it’d die before it began, but alas, the chat is alive, well, and blowing up my phone. Why I’m in a message with three of my players is beyond me, but with curiosity, I open it and begin to read.

Austin Cooper

Ayy Coach. Dream team reporting for duty

Gareth Fox

What up. Who's in this one?

Austin Cooper

Us, Fields, and Coach.

Jensen Fields Jr.

Great, another group chat. Stop making these, Cooper. Why not just make a giant team chat instead?

Gareth Fox

Do you actually want to talk to the whole team?

Jensen Fields Jr.

Not particularly.

Austin Cooper named the conversation “Coach’s Favorites”

Jensen Fields Jr.

Seriously? That name makes us sound like we’re children.

Austin Cooper

Do you have a better name?

Jensen Fields Jr. named the conversation “The Bears”

Austin Cooper

Snoozefest.

Jensen Fields Jr.

Better than coach’s favorites.

Gareth Fox

Aren’t we though?

Jensen Fields Jr.

Did you see his face earlier? He seemed pretty pissed when leaving.

Gareth Fox

Everyone played like shit, what do you expect?

Jensen Fields Jr.

Speak for yourself. I never play like shit even on my worst day.

Austin Cooper

I was on my A-game.

Gareth Fox

Cocky much, Jensen?

Jensen Fields Jr.

For good reason, want to see it?

Austin Cooper

Careful, your ego’s showing.

Gareth Fox

It always is. That’s why half the team hates him.

Jensen Fields Jr.

It’s not my fault they all feel inferior to me.

Gareth Fox

Your holier-than-thou complex will be crushed if the rumors are true and Marsh gets traded to the Bears.

Austin Cooper

Not only will that be funny as hell, but talk about some Nat Geo shit. FIELDS and MARSH on the BEARS.

Austin Cooper

Why do you hate him again?

Jensen Fields Jr.

Because he’s a piece of shit.

Gareth Fox

Childhood rivals, I think.

These three are making my head pound harder than it has been, so I toss my phone onto my bed and strip down, opting to ignore the guys and rinse off my stress instead.

As the shower water heats up, I press my palms against the bathroom counter, letting my head hang, the weight of my life pressing against my shoulders.

Steam rises from behind the shower curtain, and when my gaze hits the mirror, my reflection is hidden.

Swiping the condensation with my palm, I stare at the man in the mirror and wonder how this life is mine .

Equal parts happiness and sadness consume me as I catalogue my appearance—the scruff of my beard that’s quickly evolving from unkempt to mountain man. The length of my hair that is overgrown. The pools of dark collecting beneath my eyes.

I can’t get a grip on my emotions as everything bulldozes into me at once. The laughter I expelled earlier when Hailey made her unintended comment about her cookie opened the floodgates of everything I’ve been bottling up for the last year or so.

Right now, I feel like I could laugh and cry, and I haven’t cried since I was a child.

Being a dad is hard.

Doing it on my own is harder.

Add coaching on top of that?

Some days it feels impossible.

But I am grateful, truly I am. Sailor and I are healthy. We have a beautiful house that I bought long before I met Addison. My truck and car are paid off, and my bank account has more than I could ever need.

My cup is overflowing, yet in some aspects it’s still empty.

I’m lonely .

So damn lonely, and I’m not sure I realized it until I watched the embarrassment bloom through Hailey’s porcelain skin, and it dawned on me how much I miss laughing with someone. Making jokes. Smiling .

Having friends.

Pushing off the bathroom counter, I leave the shower running and walk buck ass naked into my bedroom and grab my discarded phone, pulling up the group message that’s still going crazy. I need to make an effort with people again.

Austin, Gareth, and Jensen added me to their conversation, which means they’re interested in being friends with me, right?

Why not give it a chance?

Austin Cooper

I’m just saying, if I were Coach, I’d put Gareth as first batter over Kellen.

Jensen Fields Jr.

No one’s disagreeing with you there.

Gareth Fox

I feel like I should be staying quiet about this, but you know what? I agree.

My fingers fly across the screen as I reply—nothing long or drawn out, but enough to insert myself.

No one said Kellen would be first up.

A text comes through immediately, and I’m surprised to see Jensen has the fastest fingers.

Jensen Fields Jr.

Oh shit! Coach responded.

Austin Cooper

COACH!

Gareth Fox

Now that you’re here, do we have to call you Coach, or can we call you Declan?

Austin Cooper

Or Deck?

Declan is fine, but on the field it’s Coach.

Gareth Fox

Noted.

Austin Cooper

Heard.

Gareth Fox named the conversation “The Favorites”

An unfamiliar tug at the corner of my lips catches me by surprise as I look down at the phone, and I find myself actually grinning at the conversation.

I know they’re just text messages, and these are my players, but having a lighthearted conversation feels good. It’s something I’ve avoided in recent years, preferring to throw all my time and energy into Sailor and her needs, so much so that I’ve pushed aside mine.

It’s startling how much I’ve lacked basic human contact outside of my workplace.

Sure, this is still technically an extension of work, but if I had to pick any guys from the team to become friends with, it’d be these three.

A lightness embraces me as I toss my phone back down and head back into the bathroom for that shower I promised myself almost ten minutes ago. Something in me shifted tonight, and I didn’t realize I needed it until I walked in and saw an eruption of flour all over my kitchen.

This time, though, when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t scoff at my reflection. Somehow, in the last five minutes, it’s felt like a page has turned in my book, and like I can finally relax into this next chapter.

And it all started because she made me laugh.