“That was embarrassing,” Lake mumbles.
I ignore her because I’m right in the middle of feeling very, very smitten with Hayes Carlisle.
Chapter
Forty-Two
Hayes
* * *
It’s hard to concentrate knowing Leighton and the kids are in the stands. Between every inning, I smile over at them when I make my way back to the dugout. Lake looks mostly disinterested, Lincoln is on the edge of his seat, and Monroe usually has her back turned, talking to the people in the row behind her.
Even though I feel more pressure with their presence, I like having them see me in my element. It gives me a little extra jolt to show off.
My first time at the plate, I got a double to right field that was just on the line. Even Lake was on her feet, cheering. I should’ve been looking at the dugout, but I looked at Leighton first.
Things have been so good since we crossed the line. Her insatiable sex drive is addictive as hell, but it’s not only that she’s just as into the sex as I am. It’s everything else too. Coming home to her after a home game, snuggling on the couch with her legs swung over mine, the fact that we figure out dinner together.
She gave me a phenomenal thank-you blow job the other night after the kids went to bed when she came home from work and I had finished the laundry and dinner was on the table.
And turns out her hands are good at a lot of things, massages included. My legs have never felt better.
Ian drives me in with a single, and as I cross home plate, I glance in their direction. They’re all cheering, and I give them a wave.
“Man, you’re on fire,” Decker says when I reach the dugout.
“It’s the power of Leighton,” Easton says.
“That the girlfriend?” Drew asks.
“Yup.” I pick up my drink and take a swig.
“You should think about getting one, they’re good for the mojo,” Easton says, turning around from the railing to smugly smile at Drew. “You could use a little luck.” He points at our makeshift board. Right now, us infielders are ahead on bases for the month.
Drew scowls at him. “I don’t need a chick to make me play well.”
Easton goes at him again. “If you had one, maybe you wouldn’t have struck out today.”
“The umpire has a shit zone,” Drew snipes.
“It’s always something, right?” Easton winks at him.
Thankfully, Ripley waves me over and I get a reprieve from the Easton versus Drew battle.
“What’s up?”
Our new manager was on the staff in Seattle, and at first, I wasn’t sure if he’d hold last year against me, but he doesn’t seem to be.
“What do you think about Taz? How’s he doing?” He never takes his eyes off the field.
I glance down the dugout to look at Taz. He was a little off the last inning, but I think he has more in him. “I’d say one more.”
“Me too. You two will go back out there, but be prepared for relief.”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
“You’re hitting great lately.” He nods toward the stands. “That your family?”
