He nodded and began to stretch his leg. He winced—then tried to play it off. But I’d witnessed it.He is injured.My guilty conscience smiled for his pain, but it was brief. The bastard didn’t like showing weakness. I couldn’t fault him for that. “Your highness, can I hit the next round?”
“Why?” His dark gaze narrowed suspiciously at me. “Thought you disliked this drill.”
“I do. But it’s working. They’re all talking and cheering each other on.”
“Fine. Hit, then.”
But I didn’t miss the relief on his face. His smile relaxed and he favored his left leg as he walked toward the bench.The bastard is in pain.I took the bat and went up to pat his shoulder. I had never been called sweet in my life, and this was no different. “Your old joints hurting you? Don’t worry. Thiskidcan swing for you.”
He growled and stormed off. My mood brightened and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
Chapter Eight
Gideon
Cheryl: How was the first week of practice? Quinn wants you to come over.
Gideon: Why isn’t that monkey in bed?I eyed my watch. It was late for her, even for a Friday night.
Cheryl: Fucking Sour Patch Kids.
Gideon: Uh, is that code for something?
Cheryl: Candy. She had too much candy. Stop by if you want.
Seeing my favorite ladies sounded better than going back to my empty fortress. I never should’ve listened to that realtor, but he’d been convincing. It could be a place for great parties and lots of kids. Maybe Quinn could host them here since I’d lost some friends and kids were out of the question.Because feelings suck ass and happiness is a myth.
God, I had issues.
I made the short drive to their cozy two-bedroom house in the east valley. My thoughts drifted from Fiona and her insistence about Garth still playing short. Damn woman wasn’t a baseball player. But she wasn’t wrong. No. The first week of practice had gone better than I could’ve imagined. The only issues were that my leg killing me and Fionawasdriving me up a fucking wall by entering my thoughts way too damn much.
The kids respected her. I hadn’t expected that. It definitely made getting her to quit out of the question.Damn it.I pinched the bridge of my nose. Maybe I was stuck with her. The thought didn’t repulse me as much as the first day I’d found out about her. Actually, thinking about her scrunched-up face after the chalk incident had me laughing on the drive to my sister’s house.
“You look…not happy, but not mad. This is weird.” Cheryl answered the door with a typically sarcastic comment. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t be a bitch. Where’s my little human?”
“I’m here, Uncle Gid!” The excited voice carried from the kitchen and I ignored Cheryl to pick her up. She squealed and I held on to her like a sack of potatoes as I walked into their small and cozy home. Her laughter was like an ax to my heart. It didn’t make sense, but I would go to the ends of the earth for this kid.
The same went for my sister, but I expressed that in different ways. I glanced at her and caught a soft smile. Sometimes, she did this thing where she wiped her eyes when she watched me and Quinn together. I used to make fun of her for it, but after the hell this family had gone through, I got it.
‘Work on finding the little joys,’the therapist had said. Well, fuck that big-glasses-wearing guy.
“How was your day, Quinn?” I tickled her. Then tickled her some more.
“The best. We watched little ponies and I painted at school and Mommy let me not eat the broccoli.”
“Wait. Your mother didn’t make you eat all your vegetables?” I held her upside down. “Cheryl. What did I say about the veggies?”
“You were raving like some lunatic so I tuned you out. Sue me.”
I hoisted Quinn up higher until our eyes met. “Quinn. You promised me you’d eat them. They make you healthy and I need you to be healthy.”
“I’m healthy!”
“Promise me.” I narrowed my eyes at her, but she just laughed. I fought a smile and, in the end, let her win.Damn it. This girl.
“Ah, the manipulative little queen got ya.” Cheryl patted my shoulder. “She’s sneaky. I have no idea where she gets it from.”
