Deacon rushes into my side first, then Riggs piles on, the two of them clinging to me as I slow walk my way toward Lindsey. Holly’s out like a light, her sweet face resting against Lindsey’s chest. I run the back of my finger along her pink cheek. The night air is giving her a bit of a chill, but Lindsey has her wrapped in a soft yellow blanket.
“You were amazing, Brooks!”
“Yeah, can you teach us? I wanna hit like you!”
The twins take turns tugging on my arms until I crouch low enough to meet their eyes. I tap a finger on Deacon’s bicep when he flexes to show me how hard he’s been working. He’s four, so the muscle isn’t real, but I play it up really well, and soon, he and his brother are doing pushups on the sidewalk in an attempt to out-train one another.
I stand back up and shake my head, ready for Lindsey to make one of her usual cracks about her hyperactive boys. Butthere’s something different in her eyes. I’m not completely sure, but perhaps she’s a little starstruck.
“Well, lay it on me. How did I do?” I run the back of my arm along my brow, then rest my hands on my hips in case she musters up her usual snarkiness. She bites her bottom lip, though, cutting off a bashful smile.
“Wow.”
Her right shoulder hikes up in step with her one-word review, and her lip is tucked between her teeth again. My body warms under her adoring gaze, and the heat in my cheeks is actually me blushing from her attention.
Well, damn.
“Coach put me in the two-hole and I really wanted to step up,” I say, feeling the need to explain things to her.
She blinks slowly as her smile grows, her bottom lip slipping free of the grip her teeth have on it. For the first time since I met her, she’s the one off her game. And I did that to her.
“I took a video for you. I know the team has lots of footabe, but when my dad coached, sometimes he liked it when we got a record of things from our point of view. Here . . .”
She leans to the side and pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, then hands it to me. I scroll to her videos, then play the most recent one of my last at bat. It’s not the greatest view, actually, through the safety netting, but the thought was sweet, so I stick with it as I take the first pitch then back out of the box.
“Is that your daddy? Who’s that?” Her voice carries through the phone speaker.
My eyes flit up to her as my breath hitches.
“Watch. You don’t want to miss it,” she says, and I return my focus to the small screen just as she flips the camera’s view to Holly’s face.
“Go, Daddy! Right, Holly?” Lindsey bounces softly with my daughter held to her chest, and Holly’s eyes fight to stay open. Then I hear the crack from my bat and the cheering crowd, and Holly’s eyes widen with a yawn that I swear turns into a smile.
“That’s right! That’s your daddy. He did so good, didn’t he? Yay!” Lindsey waves Holly’s tiny hand to the camera, and for a few seconds, she giggles. My heart melts on the spot.
“Can I watch that again?”
“Mmm hmm,” she says with a nod and a smile.
My eyes are misty, and I don’t care who sees me falling apart. I can’t believe Lindsey caught this moment for me. She steps in close, and we watch the video play through again. Even the battle cries her twins are blaring from the edge of the warning track—where they aren’t supposed to be—can’t pull me out of this moment. I watch all the way to the end, until the video cuts out, then send the video to myself and hand Lindsey her phone.
I can’t blink when our eyes meet. I don’t know how to thank her enough for something so small, yet so huge.
“Linds, that was . . .” I pause with my mouth hung open. My lips shift into a smile as I shake my head. “I can’t thank you enough.”
We’re face-to-face, smiling like fools at one another. The only thing I can think of doing to show her how much I appreciate her is to kiss her, but that is not an option. If I were to break this very thin wall we’ve built between right and wrong, I wouldn’t want to mix up the reasons at all. If I kiss this woman, I want it to be abundantly clear why—because I simply can’t help myself. And I’m getting dangerously close to not being able to hold back.
TWELVE
LINDSEY
Is this what life would be like?
I could kick myself for letting that thought float through my mind, even for a blip. Because once I entertain it, it’s all I can think about. And the hard answer is, yes, in another life. Not this one.
I wait with Holly and the boys while Brooks changes after his game, and feel like one of the wives I saw out there. I’m sure a lot of them know our situation. Holly is a bit of a celebrity in that clubhouse, and it’s not like my family doesn’t have a name around this town. But in the moment, walking to our vehicles together, it feels so normal.It feels good.
When we get home, Brooks puts Holly to bed while I bathe the twins and tuck them in for the night. Now, here we are, just the two of us sitting on a dark front porch, sipping wine that I normally drink with my sister while we listen to the chirping crickets and wait for shooting stars. I know this place isn’t permanent. I understand that all of this is temporary, a convenient arrangement that works for both of us. But I can’t stop wishing for a way it could be real.
