Christian snoozes away in the crook of my arm as I take a seat beside my wife. She needs rest; she’s exhausted after working so hard.
“He’s so perfect. And tiny.” I look over to find Emery watching me with our son, a smile on her thick, pouty lips, permanently stained pink from her red lipstick.
“I love you.”
“I love you…so fucking much, Em. This?” The end of my sentence gets stuck in my throat. I look at our son in awe. Words can’t describe the multitude of emotions swelling inside me like a tsunami. Love. Adoration. Gratitude. Contentment. I shake my head, unable to find the right words.
“I know. Me too,” she whispers.
“Thank you. For taking me back. For being my wife. For giving me a family. For everything, Baby Doll.” Fate may not have gotten me and Emery that hotel for our wedding, but it sure put her in that airport at the right time.
Emery grins. “Only for you, Mason. Only ever for you.”
I chuckle at her and kiss the top of Christian’s head. “Did you hear that, son? Your Mommy’s stealing Daddy’s lines.”
Fuck it.
Emery could steal all my lines, like she stole my heart the moment I saw her reflection.
twenty-eight
Rhys
Seventeen Years, Two Months Later
Thebuzzofthecrowd is electric as I step onto the field. The scent of clay, fresh-cut grass, and fried food fills the air.
It’s the first official game of the season, and the first game of my career. I’m so fucking pumped. I’ve been working my ass off to make it to the big leagues. After a year on the farm team, I was finally called up and signed as a starting pitcher for the Los Angeles Evaders.
Just like my uncle Cameron.
Instinctively, my gaze zeros in on the seats behind home plate. The seats have been owned by my family since my uncle joined the team and he purchased them for my grandpop.
Today, there are more than two seats being occupied by Millers and Prices. I head in their direction and notice there are also a few Walkers, Romeros, and Rhodeses. My chest floods with affection for my family.
All four of my grandparents sit alongside my parents, siblings, and uncles. From the dugout, I watch my family talk and laugh,each one outfitted in Evaders’ gear. My baby sister, Riah, who just graduated high school, sits between my seventeen-year-old brother, Remy, and my baby brother RJ, who just turned fifteen. Riah’s always keeping the peace between them.
I shake my head and smile. Teens, what are you going to do?
My uncle Eli sits beside Callie, who, to my uncle’s annoyance, I call my girl. I love messing with him. Over the years, Callie has become my best friend. We have a special bond. She’s taught me how to read music, play the guitar, and how to channel my feelings through music.
Beside them sits my uncle Mason, who I still call Uncle Mills, his wife Emery, and their kids. I still kick my uncle’s ass at whatever new online video game is out. Only now, we play while I travel and he stays back in Pine Hills.
Then there is my uncle Cam, his wife Talia, and their kids. Cam has been there for me every step of the way. Offering advice and support when I need it. He and my grandpop are my biggest cheerleaders. Their love of baseball totally rubbed off on me.
Since I was young, baseball has been my passion. I never saw myself sitting behind a desk and wearing a suit for work, like my dad. Who better to look up to than my baseball hall-of-fame pitching uncle?
I watch as Dad steps away from the group and heads down the steps. My gut reaction is to head in his direction before I take the mound.
Dad and I meet at the protective netting that separates the field from the fans behind home plate. He’s looking a little older now. His temples are grayer, and he has more wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Riah calls them his happy smile lines. I think Dad’s just getting old, and I love giving him shit about it.
My mom calls him her silver fox.
I fight a shiver and a sour face at the thought.Why the fuck am I thinking about that right now?
“Hey, Pop.” I greet my dad witha smile.
“Hey, son. You look pretty damn good in that jersey. Let me see the back of it for your mom.” I turn around so he can readMiller #13on the back. He snaps a quick picture. “I’m so damn proud of you, Rhys.” His eyes shimmer with emotion.
