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“Looks like we have a special guest,” our tour guide announces, catching my attention. There, standing beside him, is Easton. “Boys and girls, this is Easton Monroe.”
The kids cheer, the dads rush to shake his hand, and the mothers, well, all of them except for me, turn on the charm, some of them with their husbands standing right next to them. Me, I stand stock-still in the back of the pack, just watching it all go down.
“That’s my mommy’s friend. Hi, East,” Paisley says at the exact moment our group quiets down. All eyes turn to us. My face heats. My mouth opens, but no words come out.
“Hey, Princess P.” Easton waves at her, and she giggles, which in turn causes a smile to cross his handsome face. I keep my eyes straight ahead, avoiding the stares of the other parents.
“Welcome.” Easton’s deep voice washes over our small group. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Easton Monroe. I’m the starting first baseman for the Blaze.” The group murmurs with hellos and reassurance that they know who he is. “I was hoping to highjack the kids. Me and my teammate, Andrew Milton, thought it would be fun to throw around a few balls with them,” he offers.
“Yay!” all the kids cheer, including mine. The parents are quick to agree to this surprise in our agenda. Our leader tells us to follow him to the field. The crowd thins as I stay back, not by choice. Paisley’s feet are planted firmly on the ground.
“East,” she says once the majority of our group disappears. Easton is still standing there watching us.
He steps toward us and crouches down on his knees, getting more on her level. “What’s up, princess?” he asks, melting my heart a little.
Paisley grins up at him. She surprises me when she jumps into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispers.
I fight back a sob that threatens to break free. She’s never done this before. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He gives her another gentle squeeze then releases his hold on her. “Now, we better get out there before we miss all the fun.” He stands and offers her his hand. She takes it without question. I start to warn her about stranger danger, but she knows him as my friend. Easton surprises me when he holds his other hand out for me. He leaves it there, suspended in the air, waiting for me to come to him.
“Come on, Mommy,” Paisley coaxes me.
“I’m right behind you,” I say, walking toward them, but ignoring his offered hand. He nods in understanding and waits for me to catch up, and the three of us head out to the field. Paisley swings their arms back and forth as she talks Easton’s head off about how fun it is to catch and hit the ball. He’s patient with her and talks to her as if she knows every detail of the game, when in reality she knows nothing. Her friend Macie begged her to play, and we’re just realizing that she loves it. I’m not sure if it’s the sport itself or the interaction with the other kids that she loves. She’s still too little to tell. Even so, Easton listens to her intently, as if she is well-versed in all things baseball.
I should be mad he’s latched onto my daughter, but the smile she’s wearing right now takes away any anger I might have had. He’s making this day special for her.Damn, this little girl is just like her mother, captivating me from the moment I met her, although in different ways. She’s cute as hell as she talks a mile a minute about hitting the ball and catching it. That’s the extent of her knowledge, but the way she talks as if she’s a little adult, it makes you believe every word she says, as if it’s in the rulebooks for the game.
“Can I stay with you?” she asks me once we join her group on a small corner of the field.
“Oh, honey, I don’t think—” Larissa starts but stops when I bend my knees and get eye to eye with her.
“I’d really like that, Paisley,” I say softly. “But I don’t think that would be fair. Everyone needs a turn, and since it’s just me and Drew working with your group, you’ll have to take turns.”
“But you said we could play catch,” she says, her little lip quivering.
I look up at Larissa to find her watching us. I raise my eyebrows, and she gives me a slight nod. I mouth “thank you,” and turn back to Paisley. No way did I want to tell her no. “How about once the tour is over, you and your mom stick around, and then it will just be you and me? Deal?”
