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Abby held up a long wooden stick. “Hey, boys, how about we get out some of your aggression while dinner finishes cooking?”
“Stickball! I’m in.” Sierra took the stick from Abby and grabbed Shelley’s hand, dragging her across the yard.
“What’s that building?” Shelley pointed to a small cottage near the woods.
“My mom’s studio. She blows glass.”
“Wow. I’d love to see her stuff sometime.”
Sierra glanced at her mother with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “She’d love that. She’s really talented. I hope she can keep blowing glass for a very long time.”
Ethan dashed around the yard, pointing out trees and bushes. Chugger stole the rubber ball from where Abby had set it on the ground, and everyone laughed while watching Ethan chase the pup. Quinn, Shelley, Griff, and Ethan were on one team, while Trent, Derek, Sierra, and Abby were on the opposing team.
“My mom would never play anything like this,” Shelley said to Abby. “Your kids are so lucky to have you.”
“Oh, honey. It’s the other way around. I’m lucky to have them. Besides,” Abby added with a grin, “you can’t let these boys get one up on you. I learned that really quickly as a young mother surrounded by testosterone.” Abby walked up to the plate, and Griff, as the pitcher, took aim.
“Looking good up there, Mama,” Quinn’s dad called out.
“Sweet-talking will get you nowhere in this game of stickball, Griffin Rockwell.” Abby choked up on the stick. “Pitch the ball.”
He lobbed the first pitch over the plate and Abby swung—and missed. The boys all clapped and cheered her on.
“You can do it, Mom,” Quinn yelled.
“Keep your eye on the ball,” Trent directed.
“You’ve got this, Mom.” Ethan stood on first base and clapped his hands. “Hit it right here.”
Abby leaned in to reach the next pitch and hit a grounder that slid past Griffin and was intercepted by Chugger, causing chaos and laughter to ensue as Abby jogged around the bases while Ethan chased his wildly happy puppy some more.
Trent ran alongside Abby, cheering her on the whole way. “Great job, Mom. You’re almost there.”
Shelley felt as though she’d been plunked down in the middle of the best family in the world. They laughed hard and played hard, but the thing that really stood out was how supportive they were of one another. Shelley had once thought there were no couples where the husband and wife loved each other more than they loved material things and appearances. But now that she’d met Quinn’s parents, Shelley knew differently. Abby and Griff clearly loved each other—and their kids—more than anything else on the planet.
During the game, she overheard Quinn and Trent talking about the resort. Trent said he would cover for Quinn when needed, and Quinn agreed to reciprocate. At one point, Sierra twisted her ankle and Derek ran to get her a chair, but she promptly limped back into the game, unwilling to be left out.
When it was Shelley’s turn, Quinn came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, showing her how to hold the stick. During the summers when she’d visited her aunt, Shelley had often played Wiffle ball with the other kids on the beach. But she wasn't about to give up the feel of Quinn's big, hard body wrapped around her to clue him in to her experience.
“When you hold the stick, choke up a little higher. It’ll give you more control.” He threaded one hand into her hair and turned her face to his for a kiss.
“Come on, lovebirds,” Ethan hollered.
But Quinn wasn't about to be rushed as he finished what he'd started. Finally, after he drew back from her mouth, he said, “You good to go?”
She had to work really hard to form words after that kiss. “I think so.”
A few moments later, Trent pitched the ball, and Shelley whacked it into the side yard. Quinn’s jaw dropped open, and everyone cheered as she ran the bases with Chugger at her side. When she crossed the plate, Quinn swept her into his arms and spun her around.
“I’m going to have to call you slugger now.” Quinn kissed her again, fast and hot enough to make the night feel far warmer than it actually was. “I never knew you could play ball.”
“Much to my parents’ chagrin, I’ve got a pretty good arm, too. It’s not exactly feminine to be athletic in the Walters family.”
She thought about the summer she’d come home from visiting her aunt after learning to play baseball. She’d been bubbling over with excitement, and when she told her parents, her father had said, Walters women do not play ball. No one had celebrated her athletic achievements, that was for certain.
As Quinn set her feet back on the ground, she could see that hint of anger lighting his eyes, the same way it had when she’d gotten off the phone with her mother.
