Page 19 of The Game Changer (Knights of Passion #3)

Chapter

Thirteen

D ylan brought the platter of burgers and hot dogs to the table, the smell of char and seasoning trailing behind him like a promise.

Conversation paused as the guys shifted forward, drawn by the scent, and the dogs weren’t far behind—Sadie, Carl, and Thor all circling like practiced beggars, eyes wide with hope.

Savannah was already on it. She took a few burgers, broke them up into bowls, and spaced the dogs out to avoid any food-aggression scuffles.

Efficient, thoughtful, instinctive. Watching her handle them made something in his chest tug—something warm and startlingly tender.

She fit here. With the dogs. With him. With… all of it.

As the burgers disappeared and the group settled into easy chairs and patio banter, Dylan leaned back and took it all in. It wasn’t chaos like he feared. It wasn’t awkward. The atmosphere had shifted from cautious first-date energy to something looser—relaxed. Like they’d been doing this for years.

He glanced at Alex across the table. “We’ve got a tough series coming up.”

Alex nodded, but before he could respond, Savannah cut in with a raised hand and a look that brooked no argument.

“Absolutely not. You’ve been talking baseball all day. This is now a baseball-free zone. Talk about the weather. Dogs. Literally anything else.”

A beat of silence passed—genuine, stunned silence. Then, laughter rolled around the table.

Gabrielle, who sat tucked into Nick’s side, chimed in with a smile. “Well, as I was telling the girls, Nick and I are expecting. We’re due around Christmas.”

Nick’s grin stretched wide as he rubbed her belly, visibly proud.

Cody let out a whoop. “Baby Backus coming in hot!”

Alex clapped Nick on the back. Dylan just nodded, a slow smile pulling at his mouth. “Congratulations. That’s fantastic news. You two need anything?”

Gabrielle’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked around the table, voice softer. “Honestly? I’m just happy to be here. It’s nice meeting everyone. I’ve felt a little… isolated since the move.”

Savannah, without hesitation, reached across the table and clasped Gabrielle’s hand. “Call me. Seriously. Especially when the guys are on the road. I know how that can get.”

Dylan watched her, pride swelling in his chest. She just got people—knew how to make them feel seen, feel safe. She hadn’t grown up in this world, hadn’t had the guidebook for how to be a ballplayer’s partner, but she was already doing it better than most.

“And I want to help with your rescue,” Gabrielle continued. “Nick, you should hear her plans. Full-service shelter, education programs, training—it’s really amazing.”

Nick looked intrigued. “You’ve got your own rescue?”

Savannah glanced at Dylan briefly, a flicker of nerves there, but then she lifted her chin.

“Yes. It’s small right now. I’m operating out of my house and a network of fosters.

But I’m working on expanding—ideally, a dedicated facility with adoption events, training, even a low-cost vet clinic down the line. ”

Dylan casually slid his arm behind her on the back of her chair. Her breath hitched slightly at the contact, but then she leaned into it. That small shift—her trust, her ease—settled something jagged in his chest.

“She’s got plans,” he said, tracing lazy circles on the bare skin of her upper arm. “The location she’s eyeing used to be the city animal shelter. It needs some TLC, but it’s got potential. She wants to make it more than a rescue—she wants to make it sustainable.”

Alex leaned forward, clearly interested. “Why haven’t you talked to the team about this? We’re always looking for local causes to support. You know we’d back you.”

Across the table, Candice scowled at the suggestion, her lips tightening as she leaned back in her chair.

Dylan held his breath, eyes flicking to Savannah.

She met his gaze, then turned to the group. “Thanks. That means a lot. We’re just building out our fundraising strategy. Dylan’s been helping with some ideas.”

He exhaled slowly. That’s it. She didn’t ask. Didn’t push. His chest ached with something that felt suspiciously like awe. She was the first person in his life who hadn’t wanted anything from him but him. How long would that last?

“Sadie helped too,” Savannah added with a smirk. “By eating the first version of my plans.”

Laughter followed. Dylan leaned in. “She shredded it. Total tantrum.”

“Dude, crate training,” Cody muttered through a mouthful of chips.

Dylan snorted. “So I’ve been told.”

He kept his hand on Savannah’s arm, his thumb brushing the delicate pulse point just below her shoulder. He felt it jump beneath his touch.

The dogs had cleaned their bowls and were now circling the table like furry sharks. Cody snapped off a piece of hot dog, but Savannah’s low warning noise had him freeze.

She didn’t even look at him. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

Dylan smirked. “Because if you do, they’ll eat you and your plate. Trust me. Feeding from the table is like breaking a sacred rule. Like in Gremlins . You don’t feed ’em after midnight.”

Cody blinked. “What kind of old-ass movie are you talking about?”

Alex’s eyes lit up. “ Gremlins is a classic, man! You feed them after midnight or get ’em wet, and boom—evil chaos goblins. It’s like bad roommates meets horror comedy. We should do a movie night one night.”

Alex squeezed Candice’s hand. “Doesn’t that sound great? We could host it.”

Candice rolled her eyes and tugged her hand free. “I hated that movie. It was so stupid.”

Alex’s shoulders dropped and his expression shuttered, letting the topic drop. He shifted in his seat and stroked Thor’s ears but Dylan saw the interaction for what it was. Trouble in paradise.

Damn.

He’d been so preoccupied with his own issues—his own girl—he hadn’t paid enough attention to his rotation.

Alex had been off. Distracted. Tense. And here it was, laid bare at the dinner table: the girlfriend who didn’t fit, who rolled her eyes at inside jokes and pushed away the dog that meant the world to Alex.

Thor nudged Candice’s leg, a gentle, tentative reach for affection. She wrinkled her nose and pushed him off with a snort of disgust.

Dylan winced. Yeah. Doomed.

He suddenly thought of his mom—alone at home while his dad traveled the country for away games, the resentment growing in silence.

She’d hated the long hours, the unpredictable schedule, the instability.

Some women just weren’t built for this life.

It wasn’t their fault. But it wasn’t fair to stay in it either.

He cursed under his breath. He should have seen it sooner. He was the catcher—it was his job to know what his pitchers were feeling before they even threw the ball. And Alex? He was unraveling.

Dylan reached for his drink, his hand brushing against Savannah’s again.

She smiled up at him, sunlight catching her lashes, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos receded.

He might not know what the hell they were yet… but damn if she didn’t feel like home.

F inally, the night ended and everyone took their leave, full bellies and flushed cheeks proof of the evening’s success.

Gabrielle hugged Savannah tight and made her promise to call if she ever needed help with the rescue.

The other woman had a warm steadiness about her, and Savannah already knew she'd be calling soon—there was something comforting in Gabrielle’s quiet competence and her creative ideas for fundraising.

Candice offered a quick, polite goodbye.

Her gaze lingered on Dylan for half a second too long, with something a little brittle in her smile.

Savannah had a sinking suspicion Candice had pegged her as a temporary fixture—Dylan’s distraction of the moment.

She wasn’t entirely sure Candice was wrong, and the thought left a hollow ache in her stomach.

The men were more demonstrative. Cody swept Savannah up in a warm, crushing hug, his energy playful and young. He paused before kissing her cheek, but a sharp glance from Dylan made him wisely settle for whispering into her ear.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere. “I know this was your doing somehow. You’re good for the old man.”

Savannah chuckled and squeezed his shoulders. “Be nice. He’s trying. Meet him halfway.”

He grinned and gave her a wink before jogging off into the night.

Dylan appeared at her side, an arm sliding around her shoulders with casual possessiveness, his fingers trailing lightly over the sensitive skin of her neck.

That one touch sent a cascade of shivers down her spine.

The sensation was electric, sparking along her nerves, igniting heat deep in her belly.

“Well,” he murmured, voice rough and low, “we survived that pretty well.”

Savannah tried to smile, but her heart was thudding with a mix of anticipation and fear.

She couldn’t hold his gaze. Instead, she ducked away under the pretense of checking on the dogs and fled into the house, where Sadie and Carl were tangled in sleep on the living room rug, snoring like drunk uncles at a family reunion.

She stared at them, her pulse pounding. “Well, I should probably get home. We’re all exhausted.”

Dylan followed her inside. The sound of the door closing behind him felt final, like the sealing of a choice she hadn’t consciously made. His hand found the small of her back again, and this time, he didn’t let go.

“The dogs aren’t going anywhere,” he murmured. “And neither should you. Not yet.” His voice dipped, turning husky. “I haven’t properly thanked you.”

She shivered, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

His fingers traced lazy, teasing circles just above the waistband of her shorts, igniting sparks that licked up her spine.

All day, he’d been priming her—light touches, soft glances, fingers brushing hers when they passed. It had been a slow, delicious build.