Page 108 of Serving Bunt

Dani burst out laughing. “How dare you accuse my husband of using advanced dad knowledge to rig a baby pool.”

They all broke out into cheers and teasing.

This was it. This was family.

Not the one I was born into, but the one I had chosen—and the one that had chosen me right back.

Three seasons ago, most of us had been little more than coworkers in matching uniforms. Since then, we’d lived entire lifetimes together.

We’d won two World Series championships. We’d become parents and babysitters, emergency contacts and moving crews. The kind of people who showed up with taco casseroles after injuries and Champagne after victories.

We’d become witnesses to each other’s lives.

And somehow, unbelievably, it was my turn. I had found myself right in the middle of it all, my head in my boyfriend’s lap, cradling his dog while we all watched the baking show we’d accidentally fallen in love on.

If somebody had pitched this as a rom-com three years ago, I would’ve told them it was too unrealistic.

Now, I couldn’t imagine my life without it.

And Matty . . . Matty was my home.

I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his knee, hidden from everyone else. His hand tightened gently on my shoulder. When I looked up at him, his eyes were a little misty.

“Guess the family’s getting bigger,” he said quietly.

I reached up and covered his hand with mine. “Yeah. It is.”

A few hours later, after Coach Ward piled his sleeping girls—Dani included—into his SUV and Brock dropped off the rest of our inebriated cohort, the final five of us polished off the last of the pie.

Bella was curled into Bennett’s side on the sectional, her engagement ring catching the glow of the Christmas tree lights Matty had insisted on putting up weeks ago.

Talk about a surprise.

Mr. I-Have-Six-Categories-For-Bedsheets was also a closeted Christmas freak. The kind who dragged out the decorations the day after Halloween and spent an entire weekend transforming his farmhouse into a Hallmark movie set. I was still trying to process how someone so orderly could also lose his mind over twinkling lights and garland.

He drew the line at tinsel, though.

Christmas’s “silent killer.”

Bella yawned and tucked her legs beneath herself. “So . . . ,” she said, glancing around. “Who’s coming for Christmas? Bennett planned enough food to feed forty people.”

I arched a brow. “You’re cooking?”

“I’m catering,” he said with a wink.

“Plus,” Bella added, “we’re doing cookie decorating and ugly sweaters and, maybe, another drinking game. Should be fun.”

“That sounds amazing, but we’re actually going to Alabama.”

Her eyes widened. “You are?”

I nodded toward the man across from me. “Somebody promised to introduce me to every aunt, uncle, cousin, and family friend he’s ever had.”

Matty snorted. “It’s not that many.”

“Tesoro, we’ll be lucky if your mother doesn’t end up inviting the entire township.” I turned back toward Bella. “After that, we’ll head to Puerto Rico for Three Kings Day.”

Bella practically melted. “Oh, that’s so sweet.”