Page 13 of Elevator Pitch

“Another secret between us.”

I’ve told her more tonight than I’ve told anyone in weeks. Not many know Chandler and I aren’t together anymore. No one knows I want a coaching position with Chicago. Not a soul would believe how much I miss that city.

“Another secret,” I whisper in confirmation, tugging her to me and innocently kissing her hair. She smells fresh and floral, which is expected. She’s a hearts and flower kind of woman, and I’d never be the kind of man she deserves.

“Did you really want to go out with me?” Somehow, I don’t think Vee would have been interested in me simply for a swanky dinner and some publicity. Maybe not even for great sex. Maybe she’d been chasing the same sentiment I had. She just wanted to feel something again.

She giggles nervously and pokes me in the chest. “Okay, no more secrets for you, mister.”

We remain silent a minute. The fan of the air conditioner kicks on. The chatter of people passing the room in the hallway filters to us.

But I really want to know if my theory is correct.

“Why did she do it?” I shift so I can better see Vee’s face. “Why did your daughter bring that poster to the game?”

Vee draws a finger along the anchor on my shirt. “She knew I was sad, and she thought you might be too.” She shakes her head. “She was just a girl looking out for her mom, but it was incredibly insensitive, and I apologize on her behalf.”

Insensitive? Because I’d been a new widower then?

Pressing my nose to her hair, I inhale her scent again. Am I still sad? Truth is, I don’t feel much of anything. I’m numb lately. In comparison to the woman against my chest, who appears full of passion and drive. Playfulness and decisiveness.

“She sounds . . . fun.”

“She is.” Vee sighs wistfully, pride in the sleepy sound. “More fun than me. Her social calendar is so full. Kids these days . . .” She quietly chuckles, then her voice turns a touch more somber. “She was just a boy-crazed teen back then. Now, she’s an adult.”

I chuckle, bitter sympathy in the sound as I understand her meaning about aging children and packed calendars. I’ve missed out on a lot of my boys’ activities from March to October. Missed their games and spring plays. Almost missed Harley’s high school graduation this year. The time has passed so much quicker than I thought it would.

Without Patty present, I’ve been failing at fatherhood.

After the season. But the seasons have rushed along.

Tightening my hold on Vee, she responds by draping her arm over my stomach and slinging her ankle over my shin.

My dick twitches at the contact. He’s been ignored since long before Chandler and I separated, but sex isn’t why I’m here tonight. Romance and baseball might go hand in hand, but tonight I’m alright with never leaving the batter’s box. Crazy as it sounds, I don’t want to strike out with Vee.

Another heavy yawn pulls up my throat.

“What are we doing, Ross Davis?” Vee’s voice softens, hushed and sleepy.

“I think we’re sleeping together.”

She chuckles. “I miss sleeping with someone.”

It’s like she read my thoughts. There were days the ache for Patty runs deep. And then there were empty nights with Chandler. She wanted to capture the allusion of cuddling, snapping endless photos for social media before we rolled to separate sides of a bed. We lacked a true connection.

I should ask if Vee has a man in her life now. Make certain she’s not breaking any vows, although she isn’t wearing a wedding ring. If there is someone in her life, Vee seems strong enough to have told me to hit the road instead of allowing me to enter her room.

Why would she do that with a man she doesn’t know?

“You’re not sleeping with just anyone, Vee. Tonight, you’re sleeping with me. Only me.”

Fuck the idea of another man. Or two men!

Vee hums. “Only you.” Her sleepy voice drifts. “I’m sleeping with Ross Davis.” Her relaxed chuckle rumbles over my chest.

Will she exploit this night to be a viral sensation again? Will she use this time against me? There isn’t a bone in my body that believes she’d do that, even if I don’t know her. Verona Huxley gives me strange comfort. A good kind of weird energy is coming off her. A sensation of good fortune and future luck.

“What kind of happenstance is that?” she mutters drowsily, continuing her thought.