We fall into a comfortable silence as he cooks and I scour the internet. I’m so lost in my research that I don’t even realize he’s snuck up behind me until his breath tickles my neck, warm and teasing, before it’s replaced by his lips.
I release a soft hum as I close my eyes, but as quickly as it starts, his movement abruptly stops.
“Why are you googling Lando?” he asks, and there’s no ignoring the edge of annoyance in his tone.
“Why?” I glance up, tilting my head with a grin. “You jealous?”
“Of Lando?” he scoffs. “Please. He’s fine and all, but the guy doesn’t even have half my level of charisma or raw sex appeal. What would I even be jealous of?”
I giggle, weirdly enjoying this side of him. “Nor does he have your same level of humility.” I lean up and press my lips to his, hoping to ease whatever trace of jealousy may be lingering.
“Very true. I am known for being incredibly humble," he jokes before nodding back toward my laptop screen. “Really though, what’s this for?”
“A trend for work. I'm trying to find funny or adorable pictures from when you all were younger.”
He nods in understanding. “What about me? Have I been googled yet?”
I swivel in my stool to face him. “As a matter of fact, I did. It was pretty enlightening actually. But also kind of…” I trail off, “confusing.”
“Confusing? How so?” He asks, stepping between my legs as he rests his hands on my thighs.
“Well, number one, I found it almost impossible to find a picture of you smiling. I can understand wanting to look tough and stoic, but you took it to a whole new level,” I tease, placing my hands on top of his, even if I am hoping for some actual answers.
He scoffs, his head rearing back. “Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was bad,” I assure him, letting my hands slowly slide up his arms. “What was that about, anyway?”
He shifts, a hint of discomfort flickering across his face despite my touch.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, but continues talking anyway. “Growing up, I guess I felt like I had to act a certain way if I wanted to make it in the baseball world. It wasn’t about having fun or enjoying the ride. It was about being the absolutebest, because if I didn’t make it into the majors, every single sacrifice made both by me and my parents would make them all completely worthless.”
I frown, my fingers continuing to brush absent circles across his skin. “I’m sorry. That had to have been so hard, especially seeing how much you obviously love the game now.”
“It was, actually.” He sighs. “That’s why I’m so thankful your dad and this league came along. I’d been lucky enough to score an agent right out of college and even made it onto a minor league team, so sure that I would eventually make it into the majors, but instead I was hit with rejection after rejection,” he muses, the despair evident in his creased brows.
“Something that I’d once loved started sucking the life out of me. I’d actually started hating not only the game, but myself. I really don’t know what would’ve happened had the Honky Tonks not come along. Without a doubt, this league not only changed my life, but saved me as well.”
“As soon as I started playing Honky Tonk Ball, my love for the game not only came back, but I’ve somehow fallen in love with it in a whole new way. I’m always gonna have a soft spot for plain ol’ baseball, but there’s something about the Honky Tonks that brings back the same kind of joy I felt when I was a kid,” he says, a smile returning to his gorgeous face.
Fletcher is the exact reason my dad started the Honky Tonk organization in the first place. It’d been his dream to not only create an environment where people could not only fall in love with the game of baseball, but for everyone to come together and just have fun, with little to no pressure.
“I’m glad they found you too.” I grab his shirt and pull him down until our faces are only inches apart. “Because if you hadn’t joined the Honky Tonks, you wouldn’t be here in my kitchen making me this delicious smelling dinner,” I say before stealing a kiss.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he says between kisses, then gives me one final kiss before stepping back. “Speaking of dinner, it’s almost ready, and I have a few quick things I need to finish up before we eat.”
He heads back into the kitchen, and this time I do stop and watch.
I know it hadn’t been easy for him to open up like that, especially with someone who constantly keeps her own walls and guards up. Still, this man is changing me, gathering up my heart piece by piece, even if he only gets to be the one to hold onto them temporarily.
I’m leaving in a few months, and my brain refuses to let me forget it. Still, my heart is beginning to wonder if maybe—just maybe—sticking around wouldn’t be the end of the world.
30
Fletcher
“You and baby Clemmins were looking pretty adorable out there today,” Easten coos, sliding up beside me as we head toward the team clubhouse and locker room.
“No kidding. I could practically feel the heat all the way over on the pitcher’s mound,” Noah teases, looping an arm over my shoulder.
