“Seriously, Trav?” I ask. “Not you too. Opening pitch is in ten minutes.”
“Innocent question.” He holds his hands up. “She seems like a nice girl.”
“She seems like she’s good at her job. Don’t try to distract her from it.”
“We don’t need another Kennedy and Isaiah situation,” Kai says.
“What Kennedy and Isaiah situation?” Kennedy asks, joining us in the dugout.
“There she is.” Isaiah beams, bending over the railing to give his wife a kiss.
“The ‘I’m obsessed with our athletic trainer’ situation,” Cody fills her in.
Kennedy’s attention swings to Travis. “Leave her alone, Trav.”
“Leave her alone?” Travis’s tone is laced in disbelief. “We told Isaiah to leave you alone for three years then you went ahead and married him.”
“Yeah, well. Blame that one on the tequila.” She turns to her husband. “Great mistake, though, huh?”
“Best mistake,” Isaiah adds in retort.
“I’m going to need everyone in the club to stop dating and marrying each other,” I cut in. “It’s starting to feel a bit incestual around here.”
“Says the guy who is letting his daughter marry my brother.”
“I don’t let my daughter do shit. Have you met Miller? She’s done exactly what she wants since the day I met her.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Kai tacks on.
“Where are you working today, Kenny?” Isaiah asks his wife.
“Bullpen. Will and Natalie are taking the dugout.”
Everyone’s attention swings to Travis, holding up his hands again. “Jesus. Okay, I get it. I’ll leave her alone.”
Then I hear it, the unmistakable click of a pair of high heels tapping against the cement walkway behind me. There’s no need to turn around because I already know Reese is on her way out here from our visiting clubhouse.
“Hey, Reese,” Kennedy says brightly, confirming my suspicion. “Where are you watching the game today?”
I keep my attention ahead, focused on my players warming up and Cleveland’s stadium seats filling with fans. But I sense her, standing a solid ten feet away from us.
“I’ll be in one of the visiting offices watching on a screen. I have some work to do but let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do,” Kennedy says. “I should get over to the bullpen.”
“Same,” Kai adds. “I’ll walk with you.”
They both take the steps up the dugout, headed for right-center field—where Cleveland’s bullpen is. The other guys join them, leaving Reese and me alone in the dugout. Isaiah gives his wife a kiss and his brother a hug when they leave him behind in the infield.
“They’re sweet together,” Reese says, and for a moment I forget about my defenses and allow my attention to swing her way.
She’s all business today. Light tan trousers that make her legs look about a mile long. Fitted cream-colored tank that seems like it was cut specifically for her body. Gold necklace that lands perfectly between her—
Fuck me, I feel like a creep.
She’s your boss.
But regardless of her title, Reese Remington is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
