Page 4 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

“Asses on the field in five!” Stalking through the locker room, I glare at the players as they change into their practice gear. They’re wasting time by fucking around, pulling their practice uniforms on at a pace that could rival a snail.

I glance at my watch. Hailey’s at the house for about three hours before she needs to head to Ridgewood for an on-campus exam.

She’s never expressed any sort of time restrictions when it comes to her availability, so I really want to make sure I respect this one request. Which means I need to wrap this practice up on time for once.

“Anyone who’s not on the field at exactly ten will be benched,” I bark, still striding through the room, trying to embody the authority I’ve been given.

A collection of groans echo through the space, along with some laughter. Pushing through the doors, they slam behind me as I make my way to the dugout. The metal bats clank when I toss my bag into the dirt.

Footsteps catch my attention, and I’m not surprised to find Jensen, Gareth, and Austin coming my way. A few of their other teammates linger by the side door leading from the field to the stadium.

“Hey, Coach.” Gareth grins, then takes a long drink from his water.

Austin slaps me on the shoulder. “Glad you joined us in the group chat.”

“I had a choice?”

Jensen grabs a batting helmet and pulls his favorite practice bat from the bag. “I tried to tell them you wouldn’t engage, but you proved me wrong, old man.”

“I’m maybe twelve years older than you.” I glare at him, trying to remember if he’s twenty-five or twenty-six.

“Makes a big difference in baseball.” The bastard tosses me a wink then strides onto the field, swinging the bat as he walks.

Jensen Fields Jr. is arguably our best outfielder. He’s incredibly quick and seems to have a sixth sense of where the ball is heading before it’s even in the air. Not once have I seen him miss a catch unless it’s in the stands.

“Don’t let the grump bug you, Coach. His panties have been in a twist since he caught wind of Marsh's potential trade.” Gareth suppresses a laugh as he tugs on a batting helmet.

Austin’s behind him, shoving his hand into a mitt, listening intently.

Gareth is first batter and a wicked third baseman, while Austin’s greatest strength is pitching. He’s on his way to breaking records with that arm of his.

“Never said Marsh was coming over.” I send a pointed look their way, my brows pinched. “Stop spreading shit.”

Austin puts his palms outward in surrender. “Not me spreading rumors—” he tips his head at Gareth “—talk to Baby Face over there.”

“It’s not a rumor if you heard it from the mouth of the top dog.” Gareth shrugs.

“Since when do you talk to Blake Bradley?”

“I don’t.” Gareth grins. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t hear things.”

The rest of the Bears start filing into the dugout, so the topics of group chats, bad attitudes, and rumors are cut short.

For the next three hours, I dive into coach mode, directing drills, critiquing, and discussing potential plays. Around me, my assistant coaches all do their part with breaking the team into smaller groups and working with them in development, and focusing on areas for growth.

By the time I dismiss everyone, we’re all sweating from the springtime sun, tired, and ready for lunch.

Austin surprises me with a rough clap on my shoulder. “Any interest in grabbing a beer, Coach? We’re heading to the pub after this.”

“I thought we were going to Andromeda?” Gareth perks up from the dugout bench where he’s kicking off his cleats in favor of his slides that he brought with him instead of leaving them in his damn locker like he’s supposed to.

“Fuck no,” Jensen chimes in. “Why would we drive all the way to Ridgewood to go to a biker bar?”

Gareth’s shoulders deflate a little. “It’s not just a biker bar,” he grumbles, before turning his attention to a knot in one of his laces.

Austin shakes his head at Gareth, ignoring his sudden shift in mood, then turns back to me. “Anyway, beers?”

For a minute, while struggling with the zipper on my backpack, I consider it, before remembering two things. “It’s one in the afternoon.” Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I shake my head. “And I can’t. My nanny has somewhere to be today.”

“Next time, then.” Austin’s expectant eyes widen a fraction. It’s not a question, but a statement.

“Yeah, next time.” My head nods in agreement, and the four of us walk across the field together.

“How old is your kid?” Gareth asks, peering around the guys.

“Sailor’s three.” For some reason, my answer feels short, so I add, “You guys will meet her at the team barbecue next weekend.”

“Awesome, man. My brother has a little boy around that age. Maybe I’ll have them come and the kids can play.”

“She’d love that. Sailor’s a social butterfly.”

“Great. I’ll give my brother a call today and invite him.”

Jensen adjusts his duffle bag, switching it to the other shoulder. “How’s Cody’s wife doing?”

Gareth shakes his head. “Not good.”

The conversation drops, a heavy silence sinking amongst the men, and I’m left wondering what’s wrong with Gareth’s sister-in-law.

I don’t ask, though, because regardless of the situation, Gareth’s obvious sorrow claws itself into my heart, too, and I think about the innocent child swept up in it all.

The moment Jensen pulls open the Bears’ locker room door, the silence is flooded with chatter and the sound of running water from the players already in the shower.

I step inside, turning toward them and walking backward a few steps as they follow me in. “You guys have fun—and don’t you dare drive drunk.”

“Never,” Austin promises. “Have a good weekend, Coach.”

“See ya,” Gareth says, and at the same time Jensen mumbles, “Later.”

I walk away, shaking my head and suppressing a small smile.

I feel completely out of my depth here, but I have to admit, I like these guys.

“But I don’t want her to go,” Sailor cries as she fights against my hold, her tiny body thrashing in my arms as I struggle to keep her upright.

Crocodile tears stream down her face as she grabs my arm, looking over at Hailey with her bottom lip in a pout.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, sweet girl.” Hailey steps forward and places both hands on either side of Sailor's face. She’s so close, her sweet scent of orange and florals fill my senses, and I stop breathing. Hailey tilts to kiss Sailor on top of her head, and I track the movement.

A pang of longing hits me square in the chest, and for a moment, I envision Hailey pressing up on her tiptoes to reach my lips next.

In the next second she steps back and gives me a small smile, and the vision is gone.

My vocal cords strain when I start to speak, so I clear my throat and try again. Vibration rumbles as I clear my throat. “Good luck on your exam.”

Hailey’s mossy eyes sparkle when our gazes collide. She tucks a strand of her unruly red hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”

Hand on the doorknob, she adjusts her purse strap on her shoulder and gives Sailor another warm smile. I see her hesitate as her gaze pulls from my daughter to me. With a tip of my head, I reassure her we’ll be fine. Her lips tug upward again and she opens the door.

“Come back for dinner.” The words rush out of my mouth faster than I can stop them—not in question, but in a command, which surprises…well, I think it surprises both of us, really.

Hailey’s cheeks heat as her contemplative eyes search mine as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip.

Thank God I’m still holding Sailor, because if it wasn’t, I’m not sure I could stop myself from taking her face in my hands and crushing our mouths together.

What the fuck?

I need to get a grip—I cannot be attracted to Sailor’s nanny.

“Are you sure?” Hailey questions. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

I grunt. “Never an imposition. You’ll be tired after your test. Might as well come back for a hot meal.”

Hailey has been in our lives for the last two and a half months, and the only meals she’s eaten with us have been meals she’s cooked—which have been delicious, by the way.

I’m not too shabby of a cook myself, and I’m even better with a smoker, which is why I add, “I’ll throw the rib-eyes on the smoker. They’ll be ready when you get back.”

“That sounds great.” She grins. “I’ll see you both later then.”

Setting Sailor down, I move to the front door and watch Hailey as she gracefully canters down the few steps of my porch and heads toward her car.

She drives a gold sedan that looks like it’s seen better days, and I have half a mind to offer for her to take my truck which is much safer, but that’d be overstepping.

Definitely too much. If she was taking Sailor somewhere then sure, but she’s not, so I shut my mouth and silently watch her go.

Hailey gives me a small wave as she pulls away from the curb, and I find myself lifting my hand in return, watching until her car is out of view.

Immediately I want her back in my sights, and that’s not a fucking good thing.

As I go back inside, I realize how my house has dimmed without her presence. Even though she leaves and goes home every night, having her leave during the day feels like she’s sucked the light and warmth from the bones of my house.

She’s only gone to Ridgewood to take a damn test. She’ll be back for dinner.

And even though Sailor’s happily playing with her play kitchen in the living room, she’s quieter than she normally is when Hailey is home.

Home. What am I saying?

This isn’t her home.

But it feels like it should be?

I don’t know if I’m asking myself a rhetorical question or making a statement.

Dammit. I’m so fucked.