Drake lets out a curse when his grand hit only hobbles weakly toward the pitcher’s mound. Then, he shouts at Charlie never to say that word as he sprints to first.
“Here! Throw it here!” Laura holds out her old, tattered glove, shouting at Ryder to throw her the ball.
He lobs it, laughing as his mom fumbles with it, so the throw rolls into right field.
“Dad!” I scream. Leave it to Jack Williams to start chatting over the fence with someone he knows in the middle of a baseball game.
My dad turns around and notices the ball at his feet, then Drake as he sprints around first, toward second. My mom screeches at him to throw it to Charlie. She’s holding my nephew’s gloved hand up in the air at third base.
Dad gives the ball a toss. Ryder snatches it out of the air like stretching that way is natural. Drake races for third. Ryder gently tosses it to Charlie. He misses.
“Home!” I scream from behind the plate. Ryder said I needed to be catcher so I could use the word mitt all I wanted.
Charlie tosses the ball. It makes it halfway down the line of third and home. Drake is laughing too hard he almost falls when Josh slips out of the dugout and taps the ball with his toe, so it rolls off the line.
“Dad!” Ryder yells and gestures toward Charlie. “You’re teaching him to cheat.”
“I did nothing,” Josh insists, swinging the only other bat we have. It’s built for a kid.
“I can’t wait to get away from you people,” Ryder grumbles as he runs for the ball again and lobs it at me. Too late. Drake jumps on top of home plate before the ball touches my mitt.
“Home run on a stupid hit! Tell the Kings to hire me; I’ll take it from here, Ryd.” Drake shoves Ryder’s shoulder before Charlie pounces into his dad’s arms to celebrate.
Ryder drags his fingers through his hair. “You’re all a disgrace to the game. Except you, Charlie man.”
He fist bumps my nephew.
“Excuse me.” I flip my ballcap backward and glare at him.
Ryder flicks his brows and puts on his best predatory grin. Oh, the man is devious. One look and he has me frozen in anticipation for what he might do when he comes close enough. One arm slides around my waist; he pulls me close and draws his lips close to my ear. “And you. You’d never be a disgrace to the game. Have I told you it’s insanely sexy when you squat into catcher’s pose?”
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll sit like that during all your games.”
“Then I’ll never get a renewed contract because I won’t be focused on anything but the stands.”
I laugh when he nuzzles his face against my neck, scratching my skin with his scruff. To be back together, all of us again, is all I could want.
“I think that better be the game,” Laura says, glancing at her wristwatch. “Or we’re all going to be late for the party.”
It’s unfortunate Dax’s evaluation fell on today. He tried to move it because he’s a good friend, but it was in the timeframe needed. We all assured him the result wouldn’t take away from tonight either way.
The field house is done.
It’s beautiful. The grand opening for the public will be next week, but tonight is an intimate first glimpse banquet for potential investors and staff of Burton Field.
A formal dinner with Ryder in a suit, no complaints here.
All month we’ve done local interviews about the field house. Most are with Dallas, the Kings manager, or Ryder and a few of the players. But I’ve been in two, one was with Tate and Ellie since their house will be partnering with the Achieve Life Foundation.
I want to squeal my excitement. Enigma Records partnered with the Vegas Kings, two NHL teams, and Noah Hayden, to create small, after school youth houses focused on the arts and athletics in three states.
It’s happening.
We’re only at the beginning, but in the last few weeks I’ve learned a great deal about running a charitable business. Dallas has been gracious with his knowledge of money management, Tate and Ellie have supplied lists of contacts to help us get off the ground, and my mom nearly passed out when I introduced her to Noah Hayden when he flew in for our trademark meeting.
Helps to have a skilled attorney in the family.
“You ready for this?” Ryder asks, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.
