Catch Her Heart

Julia Jarrett

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Copyright © 2024 by Julia Jarrett
Editing: CM Wheary
Cover Design: Kari March
Cover Photo: Cadwallader Photography

This novel is a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of
the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Julia
Jarrett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the
publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. and Canadian copyright law.

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 Contents

1. Monty
2. Lark
3. Monty
4. Lark
5. Monty
6. Lark
7. Lark
8. Monty
9. Lark
10. Monty
11. Monty
12. Lark
13. Lark
14. Monty
15. Lark
16. Monty
17. Lark
18. Monty
19. Lark
20. Lark
21. Monty
22. Lark
23. Monty
24. Lark
25. Monty
26. Monty
27. Lark
28. Monty
29. Monty
30. Lark
31. Monty
32. Lark
33. Monty
34. Lark
35. Monty
36. Monty
37. Lark
38. Monty
39. Lark
40. Lark
41. Monty
42. Lark
43. Monty
44. Lark
45. Monty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About Julia Jarrett

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 Chapter One

Monty
“Hi.” Lark stifles a yawn as she stumbles down the stairs of her low-rise
apartment building. Her blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, those bright
blue eyes blinking sleepily. I hold out a steaming travel mug and she takes it
with a small smile. “Thanks.”
I love that smile.
We turn and walk toward my truck. “You know you don’t have to join me
on the early runs every time.”
Her shoulders lift as she takes a small sip, then exhales. “But then I
wouldn’t get the good coffee.”
Just like I always do, I bite back the words that her boyfriend could just
as easily be the one bringing her coffee from the café she loves instead of
me. How hard is it to learn someone’s favourite coffee order and fucking
get it for them?
Our drive to the section of Stanley Park where we like to run early in the
morning is quiet; the sun still isn’t fully up with how late it is in the year,
but street lamps give us enough light. October is a weird month in
Vancouver. It can be sunny and warm or freezing and raining. Today,
thankfully, the skies are clear. Good thing, since we have our second to last
game of the season later tonight.
 It sucks not to have made the playoffs, but at the same time, my body is
ready for the break. Being a catcher in the major leagues is no joke. I might
have an ass you can bounce a coin off, but I’ve also got knees that creak
and pop every morning.
The parking lot is empty as we get out of the car and into the crisp
morning air. Lark takes one last swallow of her coffee, then lifts her arms
overhead to stretch. I’ve trained myself not to stare at her lithe body when
she does stuff like this. To ignore the small sighs and moans as she moves
her body through her warm-up routine.
To not think about what sounds she might make in a different
environment…like a bedroom.
Fuck. Even when I try to ignore my attraction to her, it’s always there.
Lingering in the back of my mind and the forefront of my heart.
I have to give my head a mental shake to get shit under control. Clapping
my hands together, I say, “Alright, let’s do this. Race you to the hollow
tree?” I take off before she can answer, her cry of protest making me
chuckle. The wind is bracing as we jog down the paved path that winds
around the park’s perimeter, the Burrard Inlet on one side, and a forest on
the other. It’s beautiful, especially now, when it’s not full of tourists. Lark
catches up to me quickly, punching my arm.
“Not fair, you cheater.”
I simply stick my tongue out at her. “If you can’t keep up, that’s your
problem, Birdie.”
Her huff follows me as I accelerate. She claims to hate that nickname, but
secretly, I think she loves it.
Being friends with Lark is both the easiest, most natural thing in my life,
and the most heartbreaking. Have you ever tried to convince yourself not to
love the one woman who’s ever caught your attention? And I do mean ever?
Nothing could keep me from wanting to be near Lark. She’s a shining star
and I’m a planetary body caught up in her gravitational pull. Our friendship
formed quickly once we discovered our mutual love of all things Star Wars,
chips and salsa, and of course, fancy coffee.
But being Lark’s friend comes with a steep price. At times, it’s mentally
and emotionally exhausting being around her. Having to hide my attraction
to her, feelings that from the start were new and unfamiliar, but exciting at
the same time. But I keep all of that stuffed down, deep inside, working
hard not to let her see it.
 Because her happiness is the most important thing.
And she has a boyfriend. And if he can make her happy, then no way will
I ever come between them.
We round the corner, the famous hollow tree in sight. I put on a burst of
speed, reaching it seconds before her. Naturally, my only response is to
pump my arms in the air and let out a whoop. “That’s right, Dan
Montgomery wins again!”
“Cocky much?” Lark huffs when she comes to a stop herself, treating me
to a big eye roll.
“Don’t be a sore loser, Birdie.” I grin, but then I, too, slow to a stop,
bringing my hands to rest on my hips as I regulate my breathing.
“What time are you going to the stadium?” Lark asks after the two of us
focus on breathing and stretching for a couple of minutes.
“Around eleven, I think. Yami and I want to get in some extra practice.”
The connection between pitcher and catcher is sacred on the Tridents. Up
until last season, our lead pitcher, Rafe Montego, was my number one guy.
Nicknamed “Pops” because he was the oldest on the team, and acted like a
dad to all of us, I still miss the guy. But Kai Yamiko or Yami as we call him
most of the time, is a solid pitcher. We get along well enough. It’s just been
rocky at times, finding our groove. There’s plenty of other pitchers on the
team, and I can work with all of them, but if Yami wants to take the lead
pitcher spot, he and I need to iron out a few kinks before next season.
And with next year being the last season on my current contract, it’s extra
important to make sure we have a great one.
“So…” Lark starts, and I look over to see her twisting her hands together
nervously. Her eyes keep darting between the tree and me.
“So?” I parrot back, confused as to what has her acting so strangely.
“Dan, this is so weird.” She exhales. I can’t handle seeing her distressed,
and close the distance between us, pulling her in for a hug.
“Hey, whatever it is, it’s okay.” I feel her nod against my chest, and
release her, taking a step back.
“BaronaskedmetomarryhimandIsaidyes.”
It takes me a few seconds to catch up to the rapidly blurted out words.
And when I do, my stomach flip-flops. Guess that peanut butter sandwich I
had before I left wasn’t such a good idea. Then again, I didn’t know this
was going to happen.
 “Oh,” I say, hoping like hell she can’t tell a part of me is dying inside. I
bend over and pretend to tie my shoelace, when in reality, I’m trying to pull
myself back together. Because right now, I feel completely torn apart.
Apparently, Lark is unaware of how she’s just destroyed me, as she keeps
talking. And I force myself to listen.
“I mean, we’ve been together for so long. And I think our families
expected it to happen sooner. I don’t know. It’s crazy, and it’s happening
fast. Like, New Year’s Eve fast. And okay, Dan, I need you to say
something, please.”
The panic in her voice snaps me out of my bleak thoughts. I might still
feel broken, but my friend is spiraling. And if there’s one thing I’ve become
good at these last few years, it’s putting her needs before my own.
“Hey. Breathe, Birdie. This is meant to be a good thing, right?” I
straighten, forcing a grin, and rub my hands up and down her shoulders
until she finally nods. “New Year’s Eve will be good. You’ll never forget
your anniversary.” I tease.
She lets out a shaky laugh, but her shoulders relax somewhat. “Yeah, I
guess.”
If I had to guess, I’d say she’s feeling pretty damn overwhelmed. Which,
to me, as someone who knows the woman pretty fucking well makes sense.
Lark’s not one to love having a lot of attention on her, and a wedding is
pretty focused on the bride from what little I know.
But she’s doing this, I guess, overwhelmed or not. Which means there’s
only one thing for me to say. “Congratulations, Lark. I’m happy for you.
And I look mighty fine in a tux, so no worries there.”
The look of relief she gives me says she believes those words.
Guess I’ve also become good at lying to her.

I offer to take Lark out for breakfast to “celebrate” her news. Even though
celebrating is the last fucking thing I want to do.
I’ll do anything to see her smile, and when we pull up to the café, the
same one I got coffee from earlier this morning, that smile is back where it
belongs.
“Mmm, I can’t wait for pancakes.” She moans, rubbing her stomach as
we walk inside.
 I tuck my ball cap down low, and we head for a booth in the back corner
where I can sit facing the wall and hopefully not be recognized.
“Blueberry or strawberry today?” I ask, and she taps her chin, pretending
to think seriously about it.
“Blueberry. With a chocolate shake. Let me guess, eggs Benedict for
you?” She winks. A part of me rages inside my head, still angry at the fact
that I let this woman, who knows me better than anyone, slip through my
fingers.
“Yeah, but I might mix it up and try the salmon benny today.” It takes a
lot of effort to keep my voice casual as she smiles at me from across the
booth. This is the Lark I love. This light, happy, fun-loving woman with a
heart of gold.
“Oh, really? Gettin’ fancy on me, Montgomery?” she teases.
Lark is the one person who doesn’t call me Monty. Aside from my
parents and a few folks back home, of course. I don’t know why, I’ve never
asked her. I like it, though. But it means when she calls me by my last
name, it’s a special thrill.
Pathetic as that may sound.
“Well, only the best for you,” I quip right back and her eyes dance with
amusement.
“How is you choosing salmon instead of ham best for me?”
I lean back against the booth and fold my hands together on the table.
“Simple…” I pause, and Lark sees right through me.
Snorting, she shakes her head. “You’ve got nothing.”
My own head shakes from side to side ruefully. “I really don’t.”
She reaches out and pats my hands. “That’s okay, I still like you.”
Yeah, I like you, too. That’s the problem.
The waitress comes over and we place our order. After she leaves, I lean
forward. “When is your application for the internship due?”
Lark chews on her lower lip. “I sent it in yesterday. I’m so nervous. What
if they don’t choose me?”
I know how nervous she’s been, how much she hopes to get a spot on the
department of kinesiology research team at the local university. Even
though the position won’t start until sometime next year, the application
process starts early. I wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t be crazy, they
will. Who better to study ways to prevent muscle decline in athletes than a
trainer who has spent years working directly with a team of professional
baseball players.”
She gives me a half smile. “Their research will be groundbreaking. I
could learn so much in just a few months and bring it all back to the
Tridents to make the team even stronger.”
“You’ll get the spot,” I say confidently, and am rewarded with a nudge of
her foot against mine.
“How are you always so positive?”
My shoulders lift in a shrug. “I just believe good things happen to good
people. And you’re good people, Birdie.”
Her hand reaches out again and squeezes mine. “So are you.”
Just not good enough for her.

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 Chapter Two

Lark
I can’t possibly be the first bride-to-be that dreads having to spend time
with her fiancé’s parents.
Honestly, it’s not just them. It’s their lifestyle, their home, and everything
they represent. I may have been raised in a similarly-wealthy family, but the
Hazelwoods have the stuffy, conservative, rich-and-we-know-it attitude
down pat.
Thank God Baron doesn’t act the same way as his parents. At least, not
all the time. There’s no way I could marry a man so consumed with wealth
and status like his father.
I’ve never been comfortable with the money and privilege my family and
Baron’s have. It has always felt like a scratchy sweater I can’t take off.
That’s probably why I threw myself into sports as soon as my parents
relented and allowed me to join some teams. Anything to get away from
their world, the one where I never felt like I belonged.
The only thing in that world I have ever wanted a part of was Baron.
It’s why he ended up being my first kiss, my first everything.
My only everything.
When he proposed a few weeks ago, it was a bit of a relief, to be honest.
Finally, it was done. We both knew it was inevitable, and waiting for him to
pop the question was making me anxious.
 Now, I’m starting to wonder if that anxiety wasn’t trying to tell me
something…
Over the last year or so, Baron has changed. He stopped agreeing with me
when I would rant about how much good our families could do if they
chose to use their wealth to help others. He joined a golf club and has been
gone most weekends — for business, he claims. His car needed to be
“upgraded,” despite being only a year old.
Small things, but noticeable. I used to feel like we were a team, united in
our desire to live life differently from our parents. Nowadays, he seems
quite content in their world.
It’s left me feeling as though I’m on the outside of our relationship at
times, and I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.
Coming around to my side of the car, Baron takes my hand in his. The
TAG Heuer watch his father gifted him last year peeks out of the sleeve of
his dress shirt. Together we walk up the paved circular driveway to his
imposing family home. Tall white pillars loom in front of us with
ostentatious planters on either side, each holding a perfectly shaped hedge
plant.
The amount of money they must pay just to have their home look like a
museum…
“Smile, Lark. You look like I’m taking you to your last supper or
something.”
Baron’s attempt at a joke falls flat for me, but I paste on a smile and give
his hand a squeeze. “Sorry, just preoccupied, I guess.”
“With what? Isn’t the season over? All you have to worry about is
planning the wedding of your dreams.”
Once again, his words don’t land the way I assume he means them to. My
defenses go up. “I still have to work in the offseason, you know that. And
planning a wedding in three months isn’t exactly easy.”
He pats the hand he’s holding with his other one and smiles, but it doesn’t
reach his eyes, and it certainly doesn’t make me feel any better. “Then just
let my mother take care of it. You know she’ll be happy to.”
Yeah. I know Cordelia Hazelwood would love nothing more than to
swoop in and take over planning the wedding. I just don’t know if I would
be happy with a single aspect of it if she did.
As my fiancé, shouldn’t he want me to be happy, not his mom?
 I’m saved from having to reply by the door opening and the appearance
of an older gentlemen wearing a crisp white shirt tucked into white pants
with a black bow tie.
“Hey, Jefferson,” Baron says, stepping inside as the man gives us a small
bow. I give him a smile and am given a slight one in return.
Even though my parents are not exactly what you’d call casual, they
don’t have a freaking butler greeting guests.
The older Hazelwoods always like to appear to be a level above everyone
else.
I hand Jefferson my coat and follow Baron down the hall, trying not to
fidget with the high-waisted dress pants I wore for dinner. I hate dressing
up. I have ever since I was a child and my mother chose my clothing every
day, forcing me into frilly dresses and uncomfortable shoes. Give me
leggings and a T-shirt, or my work uniform of joggers and a Tridents polo
any day. But Cordelia insists on a dress code for family dinner, and since I
refuse to wear dresses unless absolutely necessary, outfits like the silk
blouse and dress pants I have on today are the only acceptable alternative.
I ache to toe off the pointy shoes I stuffed my feet into, but that’s another
no-no here. Shoes stay on. And heaven forbid I show up in sneakers. I made
that mistake once, early on in our relationship, and the look of horror on
Cordelia’s face is not one I’ll ever forget.
Baron’s parents are waiting in the lounge, as they call it. A stuffy room
with uncomfortable furniture and a creepy family portrait hanging above
the fireplace. Baron squeezes my hand again and gives me a small smile,
his eyes glinting. I know exactly what he’s thinking because the memory
comes to me every time I see that portrait as well.
It was a Canada Day party two years ago, and we ended up far too drunk,
making out in this very room, trying to escape our parents and their friends.
Back then, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
Unlike now. We might be holding hands, but that’s about as much
affection as I can expect from him these days.
But that late afternoon years ago, tipsy on mojitos, we came up with a
ridiculous plan to deface the portrait together. His mother really would be
improved with a mustache, and his father could really rock a monocle.
Too bad we never went through with the plan.
Too bad we never drank mojitos again.
 “Ah, Baron. Lark. There you are, we were wondering if we’d have to tell
the staff to delay dinner.” The chiding tone is clear, even as Cordelia sweeps
forward with a tight smile.
He gets a hug and an obligatory air-kiss toward his cheek. I get a once-
over and then an even more perfunctory air-kiss. Baron Senior shakes his
son’s hand and gives me a nod before pulling Baron into a conversation
about work. Now that Baron’s head of the finance department at the
property development firm our fathers run, it seems all they do is talk shop.
Jefferson enters the room with a silver tray, with two flutes filled with
effervescent liquid. Champagne. Not my favourite, but I resign myself to
drinking it every time we’re here.
Lately it’s becoming harder to accept just how many things I give in and
take, despite being the opposite of my preference. Maybe it’s watching my
friends fall in love, I don’t know. But ever since Baron proposed to me, I’ve
had this weird feeling in the middle of my chest. This knot of discontent
poking at me. Asking questions I’m steadfastly ignoring.
I hear my name and focus on the conversation. Cordelia is looking at me
and her displeasure is poorly hidden.
“I’m sorry, what did I miss?” I say, sipping the overly sweet champagne.
“I was informing Baron of our schedule while he’s on his business trip.
We don’t have much time to solidify wedding plans, you know. With just
over two months until New Year’s Eve, there’s a lot to do. We have a dress-
fitting appointment at the Terrence Bovier salon on Saturday, then I’ve set
up some time for us to tour the Devereaux Hotel downtown Tuesday night,
and cake tasting on Friday. You’ll attend that without me, I’m afraid. I have
a ladies’ luncheon at the club.”
It’s a fight not to let my mouth fall open. “I…I had no idea about any of
that.”
“Well, of course, you didn’t. I took it upon myself to arrange everything,
as Baron told me you were occupied with work.” Her little sniff at the end
says everything about how Cordelia feels when it comes to my job with the
Tridents. Working for a sports team, even a professional one, is not the
career path they would have chosen for a daughter-in-law. If it weren’t for
my father and Baron’s father having such a long-standing history, there’s
not a chance they’d support our relationship.
Then again, if it weren’t for our family’s connection, there probably
wouldn’t be a relationship.
 “Wow,” I say, only to have Baron’s hand land on mine, squeezing it
tightly.
“What Lark means to say is, wow, Mother, that’s very generous of you to
give us your time and energy into wedding planning. I’m sure I speak for us
both when I say we appreciate the assistance. What with my trip taking up
the next couple of weeks, I was worried about Lark managing it all. It’s
great she’ll have your help.”
My teeth grind together. Yeah, great is not the word I’d use. But I know
there’s no stopping Cordelia Hazelwood once she starts, which means I’m
simply along for the ride.
“Right.” I exhale slowly. “I’ll check with my mother and my maid of
honour to make sure they can be there on Saturday.”
“I already discussed the plans with your mother over lunch earlier this
week,” Cordelia says calmly, with no acknowledgment of how much she’s
overstepping. “Unfortunately, she’s occupied at that time with a
commitment with your father, but she wishes us well.”
And that, folks, is my relationship with my mother perfectly summed up.
She can’t come wedding dress shopping for her only child, but she wishes
me well.
“Oh.”
Baron’s thumb strokes across the back of my hand. A kind, affectionate
gesture. He can tell how much that news affects me. I’ve had my entire life
to get over the fact that I’ll never be close to my parents, but even so, it
hurts to be dismissed like that.
Jefferson announces dinner, and we move into the formal dining room.
I’m distracted throughout the meal, something Cordelia definitely notices.
But I can’t help it. I’ve felt like I’m on a runaway train for a while now.
Like my life is not entirely my own. I’m living it for someone else, not me.
And planning this wedding, to this man, has turned up the speed on the train
to dizzying levels.
Thankfully, we leave shortly after dessert is cleared away. Baron has a car
arriving here to take him straight to the airport for a trip to Ontario to work
on some merger or something.
After saying goodbye to his parents, we move outside. He walks me to
his car since he insisted on picking me up tonight, despite the fact that he
wouldn’t be driving me home. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except he lives a
lot closer to his parents than I do. So now I have to drive back to his house,
drop off his car, then make my way home.
“If you’d moved in with me already, this wouldn’t be an issue,” he
reminded me earlier when I questioned him about coming to pick me up.
And he’s not wrong. I’ve been dragging my heels on moving in with him
for several reasons.
None of which I wanted to get into with him tonight, especially right
before dinner with his parents.
At his car, he leans down and pecks my cheek. “Have fun with Mother.
I’m sure everything will be great.”
I stare at him, debating whether or not to point out the obvious — that
everything will absolutely not be great.
His mother is going to take over completely and plan the wedding she
wants us to have with no consideration for what either of us might want.
How he can’t see that is beyond me. But as always, he’s oblivious.
“Baron, I really don’t think —”
“Listen, babe, can this wait? I gotta go, I’m meeting the guys from the
office for a preflight drink and I don’t want to be late.”
I bite down on my tongue so hard I worry I’ll draw blood. Drinks with his
coworkers apparently trumps my attempt to have a conversation about our
freaking wedding.
“Yeah. Sure. I hope your trip goes well.” My voice sounds hollow to my
ears, but Baron doesn’t seem to notice.
Instead, all I get is a brief nod as a car pulls up. “Great. We’ll talk soon.
I’ll email once I land in Toronto.”
He’ll email. Wonderful. Guess the days of phone sex and constant text
messages are over. Oh, who am I kidding? They have been for a while.
He slides into the back seat without another word. No kiss, no hug,
nothing.
For a woman who’s meant to be in love, meant to be committing her life
to the man driving away from her, I can’t help but feel very, very alone.

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 Chapter Three

Monty
The drive out to Meadowvale, the small town I grew up in, takes just over
an hour. Tucked away in a small pocket of the valley outside of Vancouver,
it’s a beautiful place to live, even if, as a kid, I resented how far away from
everything it seemed.
Now, I love coming here. The quiet streets and slow pace of this sleepy
little town instantly make me feel peaceful. I pull up outside of the store my
parents have owned for decades. The closest thing to a grocery store in
these parts, they sell a little bit of everything. As soon as I was old enough, I
was helping out, sweeping floors, stocking shelves, packing bags. The bell
over the door that jingles when I walk in brings a wave of nostalgia, but it’s
the grey-haired woman walking over with her arms wide open that has me
grinning.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, gently folding her much-smaller frame into mine for
a hug.
“Twenty seconds, young man.” She says the same thing every time we
hug. Gotta hold on for twenty seconds to get the maximum mood boost. As
a teenager, I cringed, and insisted on only hugging her in private. But now,
as a grown-ass man, I love hugging. Not just my mom, even though hers are
the best, but everyone.
Hey, I’m an affectionate dude, and hugs are awesome.
 When we eventually let go, she holds onto my arms with a grip that
hasn’t weakened one bit since I was a kid.
“Now. Your dad is in the back unloading the produce order. Have you had
lunch?”
“Mom, it’s 10 am. I don’t need lunch.” I glance to the back of the store.
“Should I go help Dad? Those apple boxes get heavy.”
“Honey, your father might be seventy-two, but he’s not dead yet. He can
handle some apple boxes. If you don’t want lunch, how about a snack? We
got some new treats from Delores for the bakery case. She made these
croissant-donut things. Cronuts, she called them.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve heard of a cronut. I’m surprised Delores branched
out from scones and coffee cake.”
“Listen, young man, we’re hip, we can keep up with things.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her cronuts were a thing a couple of years
ago. I love my parents, but they struggled to conceive and didn’t have me
until my dad was in his forties and Mom was close to it. Having parents that
much older means there’s always been a much bigger generational divide
between us.
But it didn’t stop my dad from teaching me to hit a ball at three or my
mom from lecturing me about safe sex at sixteen.
She could’ve saved herself the trouble of that awkward conversation… I
was a scrawny kid, a total goofball, and a science geek, and even being the
captain of my high school baseball team wasn’t enough to save my
reputation at school. I was always solidly placed in the friend zone with
every girl.
Dad chooses that minute to push through the swinging doors at the back
of their shop, struggling under not one but two large boxes of apples.
“Jesus, Dad, what are you doing, trying to throw your back out?” I jog
down the aisle and grab the boxes from him.
“Hello to you, too, son, and I could’ve managed them.” He pats my
shoulder and follows me over to the produce section where I set the boxes
down and start unpacking apples.
It bugs me that my parents still work in the store seven days a week. Sure,
they’ve hired help, teenagers like I was back in the day that stock shelves
and clean up. But they’re still here doing the brunt of it, running the store
full time. Getting them to take vacations is almost impossible. And as much
as we all might want to ignore it, they’re getting older.
 My dream is to be able to support them so they can sell the store and
retire. But being so far out from the city, they won’t make a lot from the
sale, certainly not enough for Mom’s dream of buying a luxury RV and
traveling the continent.
I could buy the RV for them, even now, but they won’t accept it. Dad
made it clear when I signed with the Tridents four years ago that my
priority had to be on making smart decisions with my money to set myself
up for my own future. He knew, just as I did, that being a catcher in the
major leagues meant my career wouldn’t be a long one. The wear and tear
on my body is just too much. And since I was recruited before I could finish
college, I don’t have a lot to fall back on outside of baseball. Unless I want
to run this store…which I don’t.
Thankfully, my parents don’t pressure me on that one bit. They just want
to see me happy. The problem is, I want the same for them. And that means
I need to secure a second contract with the Tridents after this season, so I
can use the signing bonus I’ll hopefully get to set my parents up.
It’s easy to fall back into the rhythm of working in the store. Customers
come and go, some of them greeting me, but no one making a fuss. That’s
the benefit of a small town. These people have known me since I was in
diapers; they couldn’t care less that I’m now a somewhat famous athlete.
I mean, I’m no Maverick King, who used to grace the tabloids on a
regular basis, but I do okay.
“Is that Daniel? How lovely to see you.”
I turn at the shaky old voice, a smile already on my face. “Mrs. Chen,
look at you, beautiful as always. Can I help you find something?”
My former elementary school teacher frowns up at me. “When are you
going to bring a girl around here, Daniel? Or a boy, I suppose, it doesn’t
matter. But your mother’s not getting any younger and she deserves
grandchildren.”
“Mrs. Chen,” I gently chide. “You say the same thing every time I come
to visit. I’ll bring a girl back home when I find the right one.”
The old lady harrumphs, but her face softens into a wrinkled smile. She
reaches up to pat my cheek. “You’re a good boy, Daniel. Any woman would
be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Chen. Now, have you tried a cronut? Mom says Delores
dropped off a batch and they’re delicious.”
 I escort her over to the bakery section and help her put one in a bag
before waving goodbye.
A good boy. Yeah. I am, and I don’t mind people knowing it. I’m a happy
dude with not much to complain about in life. But one thing Mrs. Chen said
is sticking in my stomach, churning up the breakfast I had before I left to
drive out here.
Any woman would be lucky to have you.
Except the only woman I want, the only one I’ve ever wanted, is
marrying some other man.
And that fucking sucks.
It’s not hard for my mom to convince me to come upstairs to the
apartment above the store where I grew up and stay for dinner after I help
them all day. With the season over, I’ve got all the time in the world. And
there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with my parents.
After packing away more of my mom’s lasagna than I should admit to,
because no one makes lasagna like Edith Montgomery, I shoo them both out
of the kitchen and take care of the dishes. At some point, my phone
vibrates, but I ignore it until later, when Mom and Dad have gone off to
watch some nature documentary, and I’m nursing a beer out on their back
deck, huddled around the firepit I bought them last year.
I see a missed text from Rafe and dial his number.
“Hey, Pops.” I smile when I hear his gruff hello. “You missin’ me or
something?”
His low chuckle echoes my own. “Monty, my man, if there’s anything I
miss about playing ball, it’s the paycheque, not you.”
I clutch my chest even though I know he can’t see me. “Ouch, and here I
thought we were friends.”
I hear his loud exhale. “Fine, we’re friends. I miss you and your creepy
long hugs.”
“That’s more like it,” I say, smirking. “What’s up? How’s Imogen and
Taylor?”
“They’re great. This whole retirement thing is fucking awesome.”
I can hear the truth behind his words. We worked together for three years,
and in that time, he became the older brother I always wanted. He knows
me and I know him, and I’ve never heard the man sound so peaceful and
happy as he does now with his fiancée and kid by his side. “That’s good.
I’m happy for you.”
 “Thanks. So, season’s over. What’s the plan? Heading back east?”
I consider his question. Other than my parents, the rest of our family is in
Ontario, including some cousins I’m sort of close to. “Nah, sticking closer
to home this year, I think. Spend some time with the folks, help them out.
That kind of thing.”
“And that decision wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain trainer
getting hitched, now, would it?”
“How did you hear?” I say nervously. All the guys on the team know I’ve
got a thing for Lark, but Rafe’s the only one who knows just how much of a
thing it really is. He was there that day when I was going to ask her out.
He’s the one who explained she was with Baron and had been for a while.
“I might have retired from the team but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear
things.” He pauses for a second. “How’re you doing, Monty?”
I’m silent for a second. Maybe two. “I mean, I don’t know. Nothing’s
changed, not really. If she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”
“Does that mean you’re finally gonna move on?”
“I date.”
Rafe scoffs. “You’ve gone on a handful of first dates that somehow never
turn into a second. You’ve never brought a girl to a team event or a game.
You’ve never even talked about a girl. And hey, it’s your life, you live it
however you want. But at some point, you gotta get over her.”
“Yeah. I know.” I lean forward in my chair and let my head hang low.
“But what if she was it for me, Pops? What if Lark is the only woman out
there for me, and I never get a chance?”
“Monty, there’s no good answer for that. I’m sorry, man.”
It’s my turn to exhale. “Thanks.”
“What are you gonna do if she asks you to be in the wedding?”
I snort. “What, like as a best man? She won’t, she’s got Willow and
Sadie, and Baron’s got a sister, I think.”
“Yeah, but you guys are close. She might want you involved.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Then I’ll be her friend and
whatever else she needs me to be. Just like always.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four

Lark
“I want to see her in the ball gown next.” Cordelia’s imperious command
reaches me in the changing room and I don’t bother hiding my grimace. It’s
not like the salesgirl who has been helping me in and out of dress after dress
cares that I have yet to try on one that I actually like. She only cares about the
hefty commission she sees coming her way.
I take in a full breath when she finally gets the last button undone on the
current monstrosity I’m wearing. Any sense of modesty is gone as I place my
hands on my hips and breathe in and out slowly. I’m wearing a strapless bra
and a thong and have already been informed by my future mother-in-law that
it is unbecoming to wear that style of underwear. How did she know?
Apparently, the line of my underwear was visible underneath the first dress I
tried on, a satin sheath that clung in all the wrong places, and hung off me
like a sack in others.
The salesgirl steps out and I take a second to text Monty a quick photo of
the last dress with a one-liner from Star Wars.
LARK: I’ve got a bad feeling about this…

The man knows those movies inside and out, and I know he’ll appreciate
the joke.
The four laughing emojis he immediately sends back fortify me just
enough. I can get through this.
 I think.
I’ll give Cordelia one thing, she at least let me try a wide variety of styles.
But every single one has earned a sneer or a grimace of distaste and a hand
wave. Baron’s sister Felicity has had her nose glued to her phone, and
Willow, who arrived late, has been turning more red by the minute. Our other
friend, Sadie, who’s dating another Tridents player, couldn’t make it because
of a family commitment. Too bad, because I could really use the backup right
about now.
A knock on the door has the salesgirl opening it, and I assume it’s the next
dress. Instead, I hear Willow’s voice. “Give us a minute, please.”
I sink down on the small tufted stool in the corner and let my head fall into
my hands. That fortification from Dan’s text is gone. With Willow, I can show
how I truly feel. “This is torture.”
Willow lets out an indelicate snort. “What, the horrible dresses you keep
coming out in, or the vile energy Cordelia’s putting out.”
I look up and Willow, noticing my misery, drops down into a crouch in
front of me. “Babe, why are you doing this? Why are you letting her dictate
everything? Buying your wedding dress should be fun and exciting, not the
worst day of your life.”
“She’s impossible to say no to.”
“I’ll do it for you. Say the word, and I’ll kick her ass out of here.”
I laugh and sniff back a tear. “You’re the best, but that would only make it
worse.”
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen the next dress she wants
you to try on.” Willow shudders. “Trust me. It’s by far the worst one yet. And
I’m willing to bet she loves it.”
“It’s just a dress, right? If it makes her happy…” I trail off, fully aware of
how crazy I sound. Willow’s already shaking her head.
“Lark, you should be happy on your wedding day. It’s not about her, it’s
about you and Baron.” She glances down for a second, and when she meets
my eyes again, her expression is concerned. “Are you sure this is all worth it?
I thought maybe…after what you said…”
I know what she’s referring to without her even finishing her thought. The
night I told the girls I was engaged, I also admitted it may have been a
mistake, and that I didn’t want to marry Baron.
“I don’t know what to do, Willow,” I whisper. “Is he the man of my
dreams? No. But is he a good man who wants to marry me? Yeah. What if
this is as good as it gets for me?”
 “That is the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,
Lark Miller.” Willow squeezes my knees. “You are a phenomenal woman.
Gorgeous, smart, athletic, funny, kind. You’re a hell of a catch and you can
abso-freaking-lutely do better than Baron and his horrendous family. If you’re
marrying him because you honestly don’t see that, then I need to kidnap you
right the heck now and hold you hostage until I get you to see it.”
I give her a watery smile. “Like I said, you’re the best.” I inhale and exhale
slowly once again. “I know I need to decide what to do, and soon. It’s just not
exactly an easy decision, you know?”
Willow nods. “I know.” She stands up and places her hands on her hips.
“Now, let’s get this last dress over with so we can go and get lunch. The
wine’s on me.”
I nod and paste a large smile on my face. “Sounds good.”
When I come out of the changing room a little while later, feeling like a
cupcake in the ridiculously large ball gown, sure enough, Willow’s prediction
comes true. Cordelia stands up, smiling for once.
“Now this is a dress fit for a Hazelwood wedding.”
I bite my tongue as she walks slowly around me, tugging at parts, talking to
the salesgirl, and completely ignoring me.
Probably a good thing since it might be written all over my face that I can’t
shake the image of Julia Roberts in the opening scenes of Runaway Bride.
This dress bears an eerie resemblance to hers…which is kind of a bad omen,
isn’t it?
“Yes. This is the one.”
I turn to Cordelia at her imperious announcement. “This one?” I ask,
hoping she’ll hear the hesitation in my voice and at least ask my opinion. But
she simply nods.
“Yes. Trust me, Lark. This is the dress.”
Trust her. More like relinquish all control to her. I’d say something, but
what’s the point? It’s not like she’d hear me, anyway. And I meant what I said
to Willow earlier. It’s just a dress. I’ve always believed when I got married,
the only thing that would truly matter would be the love I had for the person
standing in front of me. Not the dress, or the party, or the cake, nothing but
the person I was promising my life to.
I step back into the changeroom and let the salesgirl help me out of the
hideous dress. Once I’m dressed, I rejoin Felicity and Cordelia at the front of
the store. Willow is outside on a call from work. Cordelia is also looking
down at her phone, and when she glances back up, there’s a light in her eyes
that I don’t like the look of.
“Wonderful news, Lark. That was Helen over at Green Briar. I had reached
out to her to see how long their current wait list is. It’s never too soon, you
know. We must be prepared.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “What’s Green Briar? A wedding venue?”
Cordelia lets out a brittle laugh. “Heavens, no. It’s the boarding school
Baron and Felicity went to. They’ve recently opened an elementary-aged
program. Your children can start attending when they’re eight. Helen
informed me that as soon as we have your anticipated due date, we should be
in touch to secure a placement.”
What. Did. She. Just. Say?
“I’m sorry, boarding school?” I ask, not bothering to hide the shock in my
tone.
“Yes. Of course. The last three generations of Hazelwoods have gone to
Green Briar, it’s the leading coed boarding school in the country. Hasn’t
Baron told you about his time there? He looks back on it fondly, I know.”
Thank God Willow’s outside on her phone, or I know she would have bust
out laughing at the absurdity of this.
I grew up with distant, disconnected parents. Heck, Rose, my childhood
nanny, was more of an influence on me than they were. And I swore that if I
ever had children, they would know nothing but unconditional love from me.
Boarding school is not an option.
To say nothing of the fact that I’m not planning on becoming pregnant any
time soon. The very idea of going on a list for some hypothetical child that
will exist some time in the future is absolutely insane.
“Baron and I have not discussed his time there,” I say stiffly, meeting her
gaze head-on. Her eyes narrow, as if she senses the fight that’s coming. “But I
can assure you, I do not agree to my future children attending boarding
school.”
Cordelia doesn’t rise to my statement. She simply sniffs, turns away
without another word, and walks out of the boutique.
Honestly, I’m counting that as a win.
After the horrifying dress shopping experience, Willow and I went to lunch.
When I told her about the boarding school bomb, she was suitably horrified
on my behalf.
And even now, hours later, as I head to Dan’s house to watch a movie with
him, I can’t stop fuming about the entire situation.
It’s one thing to take over my wedding. But to try and control the way I will
raise my future children is too far. Boarding school. I realize, for some
families, that’s the best option. But that’s not even up for consideration in my
mind. And the next time I talk to Baron on the phone, it won’t matter if he’s
on the other side of the country doing who-knows-what for the firm. I’ll be
telling him that it will never happen. Ever.
I knock on Dan’s front door, then turn the knob. He never leaves it locked
when he knows I’m coming over.
But I guess I’m early tonight, either that or he’s running late. Because I
come to an abrupt halt just inside when he walks into the living room
shirtless. His trim, muscular body is on full display, right down to the trail of
dark hair running from his belly button down…
“Lark!” he says, his eyes widening. He’s holding a shirt in one hand, and
his shaggy dark hair looks wet. “You’re…you’re here. Shit. What time is it?”
I can feel my cheeks growing red, which is ridiculous. It’s not as if I
haven’t seen him without a shirt before. Heck, most of my workdays are spent
surrounded by muscular baseball players in various stages of undress.
There’s something about this moment, in his home, just the two of us, that
feels different, however. Intimate, in a way.
“Sorry, I guess I’m early?” I say, casting my eyes to the side. He pulls the
shirt in his hand over his head and moves toward me.
“It’s fine, you just surprised me.” He sounds a lot calmer than before, and
certainly more than I feel. But I glance over to see he’s heading toward the
kitchen. “Pizza will be here in half an hour. Want a beer?”
I follow him, grateful to have moved past that awkward moment, whatever
it was. “I’m not sure that’s going to be strong enough, but yeah.”
Dan looks at me with a half smile. “That bad, huh?”
“Death by tulle was a definite possibility.”
His deep chuckle has me relaxing for the first time all day. It’s always like
this with him, easy and fun.
“Tulle? Really? I would have thought sequins would be more of a risk to
your well-being.”
 “It was all dangerous.” I take a long pull from the bottle of beer he gives
me. “But you want to know the worst part? It wasn’t even the uncomfortable
dresses that made me struggle to breathe. Oh no.” I stand up, unable to stay
seated for this tirade. I pace Dan’s kitchen, clutching my bottle of beer in two
hands. “Baron’s mother had the freaking audacity to tell me she’s already got
my nonexistent future children on some wait list for a boarding school.
Boarding school! Who the hell even goes to boarding school aside from, like,
politician’s kids or whatever? Good Lord, as if I would want my kids raised
anywhere but at home with their parents. No, thank you, not happening. I
mean, my childhood sucked, but at least I saw my parents at dinnertime and
lived under the same roof as them. And come on! I’m not even married, and
she’s already planning my child’s future? There’s control freak, and then
there’s Cordelia Hazelwood.”
I stop, breathing heavily, and turn to see Dan leaning against the counter,
his brown eyes wide. “Say something. Please tell me you agree that she’s
nuts.”
His head slowly starts to move side to side. “Nuts isn’t even strong enough,
but I don’t want to be offensive to people who struggle with their mental
health. She stepped so far over every single fucking line, it’s not even funny.
I’m sorry, Lark.” He frowns. “Boarding schools might be a good option for
some families, but I can’t imagine not having my kids at home. If I ever have
them.”
I tilt my beer bottle toward him. “Exactly.”
“Mother-in-law drama aside, did you find a dress?”
I groan, letting my head fall forward. “No, but Cordelia did.”
Dan coughs on his sip of beer, wiping a hand over his mouth before
answering. “What does that mean?”
“It means she wants me to wear the most ostentatious, uncomfortable,
gaudy dress I’ve ever seen in my life.”
His brows furrow. “Um, Lark, I’m no expert, but isn’t the bride meant to
choose her own dress?”
“Not when you’ve got someone like Cordelia in charge.” I grimace.
“Honestly, it was easier to just let her get her way.”
“Listen, I don’t want to be rude or anything, but that doesn’t sound like the
greatest attitude to have about planning your wedding,” he says, wincing.
“Sorry.”
My sigh is long and drawn out. “You’re not wrong.” My laugh comes out a
lot harsher than it probably should, but Dan doesn’t say anything.
 He’s never come out and said he thinks I shouldn’t be with Baron, not like
Willow has. Part of me wishes he would, because in the back of my mind,
there’s always been a quiet voice questioning what if… What if I was single
when I met Dan? Would something have happened? Even though he’s never
once made a move outside of friendship, we’ve been mistaken for a couple
before when we’ve gone out just the two of us for some reason.
He’s a catch, and I’ve always wondered why he’s single but never been
brave enough to ask. I told myself I had no business asking since I was in a
relationship.
And now? Now, I’m trying to figure out how I ended up here, engaged to a
man I don’t actually love. Feeling trapped and knowing I let myself get to this
point.
Torn between wanting to walk away from it all and being terrified of
disappointing everyone if I do.
And beneath all of that, the voice continues to whisper. What if I walked
away from it all…

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

Monty
“And then, Marcus said girls suck at baseball, and Sydney punched him
the stomach. It was awesome.” Grayson pumps his fist in the air as he
bounces beside me on the bench outside of the ice cream shop we stopped
at after playing catch for an hour.
Whoever says you shouldn’t eat ice cream in November is wrong. There’s
never a bad time for bubble gum ice cream. Yeah, I said bubble gum.
“You know he’s totally wrong, right?” I say seriously. “Girls are just as
good at baseball as boys. Sometimes they play the game differently, and
they call it softball, but that doesn’t mean it’s easier. They pitch fast and hit
hard.”
“Yeah, I know. We had a girl on my team last season, and she hit a home
run.” He slurps at his rocky road ice cream cone as I silently beam with
pride. In the three years I’ve spent as Grayson’s Big Brother, he’s come a
long way from the sullen boy he was at nine years old.
Growing up as an only child, all I ever wanted was a sibling. Someone to
play with, to teach and help grow. I was overflowing with affection and a
desire to be friends with everyone around me. Sure, it made me popular in
school, being the class clown, the fun guy to have around, but it wasn’t the
same.
 Which is why, as soon as I could, I signed up for the Big Brother
program. It took a while to find a match, and even once Grayson and I
connected, it took some time for us to actually bond. But now, my time
every other week with him is something I look forward to.
It helps that he’s developed a love of baseball, and his mom doesn’t try to
take advantage of my fame in any way. She’s just a single mom trying to do
right by her kid, struggling with a low income in an expensive city.
It’s why I break the rules occasionally and hook them up with gear I can
get from my sponsors. It’s also why I anonymously donate equipment to his
baseball league. Because I know how powerful sports can be for kids.
“Can you come to my game this weekend? It’s the last one for the fall
season.” Grayson turns his hopeful gaze on me. “Coach said you could help
me warm up if you wanted.”
I hide my smile. I’m sure his coach would be more than happy to have a
major league catcher warm up his pitcher. Truthfully, I don’t mind. I like
hanging with Grayson, and being around other kids that love baseball is
fun. Even if the coaches and parents get a little much sometimes.
“I’ll be there. You been working on those shoulder mobility exercises I
showed you? Lark wanted to know how it’s going.”
“Yeah, I do them every night. I think it’s helping. Hey, can she come to
the game, too?” Grayson’s voice cracks slightly, and once again, I’m biting
back my grin. Dude’s got a little crush on Lark. Not that I blame him, of
course.
“I’ll ask her.”
“Cool.” His head tilts down as he stares at his ice cream. “Hey, Monty.
Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything, you know that. Open book, man.” I turn on the
bench to face him slightly. “What’s up?”
“So, um. Like, there’s this girl at school.” He shifts in his seat, eats some
ice cream, and darts his gaze up to me, then back down, his cheeks starting
to colour.
Meanwhile, my palms start to feel sweaty. And for a guy that relies on
steady hands and quick reflexes, sweaty palms are a rare occurrence. But he
wants to talk about girls? Oh shit.
“Oh yeah?” I say, clearing my throat. Do I want him to feel comfortable
talking to me or not? I honestly can’t decide. In three years, he’s never once
brought up girls in this way. I am most definitely not prepared.
 “She’s cool. I mean, like, smart. And really good at volleyball. And nice.
We talk sometimes, and she likes my jokes.” He takes another bite of ice
cream, and then his shoulders slump. “Our first school dance is coming up
and I want to ask her to dance. But I’m scared she’ll say no. What do I do?”
Finally, he looks up at me, and the mixture of hope and dread is one I’m
sure was on my face a time or two back in middle school. Wanting to be
cool enough but also terrified.
I take a minute to try to figure out how the hell I’m gonna handle this. I
can’t exactly come out and tell him that I’m a twenty-nine-year-old virgin
who’s only been on a few dates, kissed three girls, and who got stood up at
his prom the one and only time he was brave enough to ask a girl out in
high school.
Yeah. That would scar him for life. Kinda like it did me.
“Well,” I start, then pause. “I mean, you gotta be bold, dude. If you want
something, or someone, you gotta shoot your shot. Just remember, if she
says no, that’s a final answer.”
There. That’s some good advice, right? Teaching confidence and consent?
Fuck, I am the wrong man for this conversation. I rub my palms on my
pants, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“If she says no, I’m gonna be so embarrassed,” Grayson says morosely.
“Maybe I just shouldn’t ask. I mean, everyone would see her shoot me
down and that would suck.”
“Or everyone would see her say yes.” I lean over and nudge him with my
shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re cool. She’d be lucky to dance
with you.”
Grayson just huffs. “You have to say that.”
“I don’t have to do anything. Didn’t I promise you in the beginning I’d
never lie to you?”
Maybe I don’t tell him everything, but I don’t lie.
He looks up at me. “Yeah.”
“Well, then, trust me. I don’t know who this girl is, but if you think she’s
cool, then I’m sure she is. The thing is, so are you. And you’ll never know
what could happen if you don’t put yourself out there.”
It’s not lost on me that I should have taken my own advice years ago.
Before Lark ended up engaged. But coming between her and her boyfriend
felt wrong, even if every instinct has always told me she’s not meant to be
with him.
 Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Grayson take a deep breath in, then
relax against the bench with his exhale. He slowly nods. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll
ask her. You’re right, she’s probably not gonna say no. We have a good time
when we hang out, and it’s just a dance. No big deal.” He sounds more
confident, but still nervous. I’m proud of him, and I give him a smile, even
as I inwardly give myself a slap across the head. A freaking twelve-year-old
has more game than I do.
This is why I’m still a virgin.
Dammit.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

Lark
“So you’re not coming?” I try to keep the disappointment from my voice.
It’s not as if I enjoy spending time with my mother, but her apparent lack of
interest in doing anything with me for this wedding still hurts.
“No, Lark.” She sounds distant and exasperated. Like always. “Your father
and I have had plans with the Riordans for weeks. I can’t be expected to drop
everything just to sample cake.”
I could fight back and tell her that most mothers would absolutely drop
everything to help their only child plan their wedding. But then again, this is
exactly what it’s always been like. I’m the lowest priority for my parents.
“Fine.”
“We’ll talk soon.”
That’s all I get before she hangs up, leaving me staring at the phone. I push
off my couch and go to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Now what? I
don’t exactly want to go cake tasting alone.
I consider asking Willow if she wants to join me, but then I remember her
mentioning she has plans with her boyfriend Ronan and his daughter Peyton.
Before I can overthink it, I type out a text to someone I at least know I’ll
have a good time with.
LARK: How do you feel about free cake?
 DAN: How is that even a question…

LARK: Right. Well, are you doing anything in an hour?

DAN: Other than eating free cake? Nope.

An hour later, I’m biting back my grin as Dan comes swaggering up to me,
a big, goofy smile of his own stretched across his face.
“What the heck are you wearing?” I fold my arms across my chest. He
looks down, spreading his hands wide.
“This old thing? Just a shirt I had lying around.”
The bright blue shirt with a huge cartoon slice of cake and the words “My
Favourite Flavour of Cake is More” is stretched across his muscular chest.
“That is ridiculous.” My smile breaks free. It’s nice to be around someone
who doesn’t care about appearances or status, just about having fun and
enjoying life. That’s always how I feel with Dan. Carefree, light, and happy.
He shrugs, giving me a grin. “Yep, it is. Also, appropriate.”
I bite my lip to not laugh, but he’s right.
“Hey, any word from the university?” Dan asks as we near the coffee shop
we decided to meet at before the tasting.
His question makes my mood drop slightly. I shake my head. “No, still
nothing. I don’t think I’ll hear for a while. The placement wouldn’t even start
until next fall.”
He nudges me with his shoulder. “They’d be stupid not to take you.”
Here’s hoping the people running the research project at the university
agree with him.
Inside the coffee shop, the line isn’t too long and there’s an open table by
the front. Dan gestures to it and says, “You grab us a seat, I’ll get drinks.”
I go and sit down, and a few minutes later he joins me, setting two mugs
down. “Vanilla cappuccino, half caff with oat milk for the lady, and a mocha
with extra whip for myself.”
For a few seconds, I stare at the steaming mug in front of me, more
uncomfortable truths hitting me, this time strong enough that I can’t ignore
them the way I normally do. In all the years I’ve been with Baron, I don’t
think he has even once ordered my coffee the way I like it. I’ll drink coffee
with regular milk, without flavouring, whatever. But my favourite? It’s right
here in front of me, courtesy of a man who is so good a friend, he always gets
my coffee order right.
I lift it to my lips and take a sip, my mind spinning. I’ve always known Dan
is a special kind of guy. A good man with a heart of gold. He’s the one who
always makes everyone around him smile, and nothing ever seems to get him
down.
He’s silly, and kind, and giving, and smart. And I count myself incredibly
lucky to have him as a friend.
And as I look at him smiling around the coffee shop, sipping on his mocha,
not caring that a smudge of whipped cream is on the corner of his lip, my
heart flip-flops in my chest.
Because someday, a woman is going to be even luckier than I am and have
Dan Montgomery as her partner.
Leaning forward before I can think about what I’m doing, I lift my thumb
and wipe away the whipped cream, stilling when he quickly turns and his
piercing brown eyes fix on me.
“You had a little…” I show him my thumb, still frozen. His gaze bounces
down, then back up. Slowly, I move my thumb to my mouth. He follows my
movement, and there’s no mistaking the clenching of his jaw when my tongue
darts out to lick it up.
All of a sudden, I feel hot and squirmy.
Pushing back from the table, I pick up my coffee cup and drain it, letting
the still-hot liquid run down my throat. “We should go,” I say when I’m done,
moving to the counter where a bin holds dirty mugs. I don’t meet his gaze as I
walk out the door of the coffee shop, still trying to figure out what exactly
was that reaction I just had.
I don’t get hot and squirmy around Dan.
Then again, there was that moment at his house the other night when I
walked in on him shirtless. If this is going to be happening every time I see
him, if I’m going to start feeling things I have no business feeling, things are
going to get awkward really fast.
And the thought of things changing between us, of me somehow ruining
our friendship, has me filled with dread.
But he seems oblivious to my internal freak-out as he chatters to me about
the Little League team his Little Brother is on. Grayson’s a good kid, and I
smile and nod as necessary, even though my head is a million miles away.
We reach the bakery in a few minutes, and Dan holds open the door with a
little bow. “After you.” He’s always doing cute things like that, and I can’t
help but compare him to Baron, who hasn’t held a door open for me in years.
“You must be the Hazelwood couple, welcome. I’m Joanne.” An older
woman wearing a pristine white chef’s coat comes out from behind the
counter.
“Oh, actually —”
“Yes, lovely to meet you.”
I turn wide eyes on Dan, who just winks as he shakes the woman’s hand.
What the heck is he doing?
“I’ve taken the time to pull the designs Mrs. Hazelwood preselected, and
we have an array of flavours for you to try.”
“I’m sorry, what was that about the designs?” I ask, interrupting Joanne.
She looks confused as we take a seat at a small table where a thin folder
awaits us.
She turns to Dan. “Your mother was in here earlier this week and selected
half a dozen designs she felt would match your aesthetic. She informed me
you would choose from those.”
Once again, Cordelia takes over. I shouldn’t be surprised by now, yet
somehow, I am.
“Why don’t we focus on flavours first.” Dan’s hand lands on my knee,
squeezing it gently. I look at him and see the concern etched on his face.
Pasting on a smile, I cover his hand with mine for a second, then turn to
Joanne.
“Yes. Let’s start with flavours. Should we give you a list of what we’d like
to try?”
Joanne blinks, and it’s such a small gesture that it shouldn’t feel so
ominous. But I know what she’s about to say before she even opens her
mouth. “Mrs. Hazelwood already notified me which flavours you wish to
sample.”
“Of course, she did,” I mumble under my breath.
“As long as one of them is carrot cake, we’re good.”
I turn sharply at Dan’s words. “Carrot cake?”
He gives me a wink and a shameless grin. “Your favourite.”
“How did you know that?”
Now his eyebrow lifts. “Come on, Birdie. Do you really gotta ask me that?”
I blink slowly. “I…I guess not.”
He turns to Joanne, that wide smile now directed at her. “So, carrot cake.
With cream cheese frosting. That’s gotta be an option for my girl. She loves
to bake, but no way is she making her own wedding cake.”
 There’s no hope in trying to ignore the shiver I get hearing him say my girl,
even if I know he means nothing by it. We’re playing along with the
assumption we’re a couple, and maybe the guilt over that deception will hit
me later, but for now, I’m glad he’s here. I don’t think Baron would have
thought to ask for carrot cake.
As Joanne wheels out a cart covered in plates, each one with an admittedly
gorgeous-looking slice of very fancy cake on it, I force myself to relax. As
Dan said on the phone when I asked him to come with me, who doesn’t like
free cake?
“Okay, we have to start with this one.” Dan gestures to a slice of light-
coloured cake covered in pristine white icing with some sort of orange filling.
“What’s that flavour, Joanne?”
“That would be a cardamom cake with a citrus curd filling.”
Dan dishes some onto a fork and hands it to me before scooping up his own
bite. He raises his utensil, and I can’t help but smile as we clink them
together, then bring them to our mouths.
But my smile quickly falls. I try to school my reaction as I quickly chew
and swallow, but one glance at Dan tells me I’m not alone in the struggle.
He ducks his head and whispers under his breath, “Say nothing, it’s a trap!”
I have to muffle my laugh at the Star Wars reference, turning to Joanne
with a hopefully believable neutral expression. “That one is not my
preference,” I say politely after wiping my mouth. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” Joanne says breezily. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds
to your tasting. And once you have your top few choices, we can discuss
design plans.”
I nod in thanks and wait until she walks back into the kitchen before
leaning over the table. “Oh my God, that was repulsive.”
Dan lets out a quiet chuckle. “Thank fuck you agree. I don’t know if I’ve
ever met a piece of cake I didn’t like, until now.”
Eyeing the rest of the selections, I feel my worry mounting. “What if
they’re all weird like that? She didn’t leave us a list or anything. Is it meant to
be cake roulette?”
“We can do this. And after, we’ll go for burgers and brews.”
His confidence is cute, but I’m not buying it. “Ugh, what’s so wrong with
simple? Vanilla, chocolate, that’s good enough.”
“How about a carrot cake slab from the grocery store?” Dan winks. “That
simple enough for you?”
 “Honestly, yes,” I answer, leaning back in my seat. Waving my hand at the
tray of small plates, I mutter, “All of this is just too much.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it, as if thinking better of what he was
about to say. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he would be honest and tell me his
opinion. Because the doubts I have about this wedding are growing bigger
and bigger with every day that passes, and I need someone to tell me I’m not
crazy for questioning if I should be going through with the marriage at all.
And I know every one of my friends would support me if I said I wanted to
cancel everything. Heck, Willow already did when I told them I was engaged
but I was worried it was a mistake.
Yet somehow, despite my doubts and misgivings, I’m still here, going
through the motions. All the while wondering if this is going to turn out to be
the biggest mistake of my life.

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 Chapter Seven

Lark
Do I have to answer?
It’s sad that’s the first thought that crosses my mind when my phone rings
and I see who’s calling.
But a lifetime of craving my mother’s approval means I answer.
“Hi, Mom.” I swirl the peppermint tea bag around in my glass cup,
watching the water slowly darken.
“Lark, I heard from Ellen at the club that the Devereaux Hotel downtown
has an opening for their larger ballroom. I took the liberty of contacting
them and reserving it.”
My hand comes to a stop as I take a deep breath in. “We don’t need a
larger room, Mom.”
“Nonsense. The guest list Cordelia and I approved won’t fit in anything
less.”
She continues to prattle on about something someone at the club said, and
I completely tune her out. Reaching for a bag of licorice, I pull out a few
pieces, then pick up my cup of tea and settle into a large chair by the
window in my living room. Nestling the phone between my shoulder and
ear, I light one of the many candles I have throughout my house. There’s
something about the flickering warmth that soothes me. And Lord knows I
need soothing right now.
 Honestly, it’s no wonder my mother and Cordelia get along, they both
enjoy ignoring anyone’s opinions but their own and deciding things for
other people.
The difference is, I’ve spent most of my life letting my mother be this
way. It seemed easier than the alternative, which came with never-ending
guilt trips and reminders of how much my parents have done for me.
Tuning out her lectures has become a survival strategy. A carefully honed
technique made up of sounds of acknowledgments, never fully agreeing or
disagreeing to anything, and trying to avoid commitments whenever
possible.
Letting her drone on might be time consuming and draining, but it
became second nature for a child born to parents who never wanted kids for
any reason other than status. A child like me.
“Lark? Lark! Honestly, are you even listening?”
My mother’s annoyed tone startles me back to attention. “Sorry, Mom.
Could you repeat your question?” I wince, waiting for the huff. Yup, there it
is.
“I said, I’ve decided to wear a navy blue dress, so please ensure your
bridal party coordinates so there’s no clashing in photos.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” I’m mentally rolling my eyes. Forget bridezilla, I’ve
got two mothers-of-the-bride-and-groom-zilla.
“Alright. I need to go, we’ve got a dinner at the club tonight to celebrate
Howard’s promotion.”
I make a noise, as if I know who the hell Howard is, or even care about
his job status. “Okay. Bye, Mom.”
Tossing my phone down on the table beside me, I let my head fall back
against the chair and close my eyes. I know not all parents are as exhausting
as mine and Baron’s. I know not all families are more obsessed with
appearances than anything else. I know normal families are capable of
showing love and respect for one another.
I just don’t know what any of that feels like, having never experienced it
myself.

Twenty-four hours later, I push open the door to the restaurant I’m meeting
the girls at for dinner, my head still full of spiraling thoughts. I honestly
don’t see how I can marry Baron, but I also don’t see a way out of it
without having to face not only two very disappointed families but also a
lifetime alone.
But I’m not so pathetic as to believe that’s a good enough reason to marry
a man I don’t love.
All of my anxiety spirals are leading to the same conclusion. I need to
end my engagement.
I drop down into an open chair with a thump.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Willow says, pushing a glass of wine over
toward me. “Drink?”
“God, yes.” I pick it up and take a long swallow.
Sadie leans forward, a concerned expression clear behind her glasses.
“Are you okay?”
“If by okay, you mean exhausted from trying to keep up with the
overbearing planning my mother and Cordelia are forcing me to be a part
of? I honestly don’t know why they bother telling me anything when
they’re just making decisions without my input, anyway.”
“They sound awful,” Sadie says, reaching out and covering my hand with
hers, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry. Has there been any part of it
you’ve enjoyed?”
“Cake tasting with Dan yesterday was fun,” I reply honestly. Then I catch
Willow’s expression, eyebrows raised, questioning. “What?”
“Monty went cake tasting? Where was Baron?”
“He’s still on his work trip out east, and you couldn’t come. I didn’t want
to go alone,” I reply defensively, taking another sip of wine.
“Mm-hmm.”
Her reply, and the small smirk, has me sagging against my chair in defeat.
“What am I doing?”
“Besides marrying the wrong guy?” Willow fires back, earning a gasp
from Sadie. “Hey, I’m not saying anything none of us aren’t already
thinking. Right? You’re the one who said to us the night you told us you
were engaged that you thought it was a mistake. So why the hell are you
still going through with it?”
I drain my glass before answering. “If I could explain it in a way that
doesn’t make me sound like a loser, I would. But I can’t. And yes, I know
that only highlights the fact that I shouldn’t go through with it. I mean, who
marries a guy just because he’s the only one to ever show interest?”
 “But Monty…” Sadie starts, then abruptly stops. My brows furrow. I
swear it looked like she got kicked. But why would Willow shut her up like
that?
“There is no me and Monty. Dan is my friend and that’s it. He’s never
once made a move for anything else.”
Willow reaches over casually to refill my glass before shooting her verbal
arrow. A direct hit, straight to my heart. “Could that be because you’ve
always been with Baron, and Monty’s a good man who doesn’t want to
come between you two?”
I stare down at the ruby red liquid in my glass, uncomfortable with the
raw truth of what Willow’s pointed out. Monty is a good man. The best.
And he absolutely is the kind of man that would respect someone’s
relationship, one hundred percent. But at the same time, if he truly had
feelings beyond friendship for me, wouldn’t I have sensed, I don’t know,
something?
“How did you and Baron get together?” Sadie asks quietly. I continue to
stare into my glass, my mind tripping back in time to when Baron and I first
became romantically involved.
“Through our parents, I guess you could say. Our fathers partnered to
start their company when I was seventeen. He was two years older, and
already in university, so we didn’t see much of each other for a few years.
We didn’t have much in common, and despite our families’ connection, we
didn’t exactly run in the same circles.” I laugh, remembering how I used to
look at him and Felicity with disdain, in their perfectly pressed clothes,
while I was covered in grass stains from playing soccer. “But when I was in
university, things started to change. My mom and his started making
comments about the two of us. About us being meant for each other, and
how serendipitous it was that we were near the same age and our families
were so close.”
“That sounds like a bad movie plot,” Willow remarks, and I look up with
a wry smile.
“No kidding. I wish I was joking.” I let out a sigh, running my finger
around the base of my wine glass as my smile softens. “But he was
handsome, kind, and smart. When every other guy I met treated me like a
friend, Baron was the only one to show interest in me as a woman. And at
least, in the beginning, I was happy. I did fall for him, kinda quickly, if I’m
honest. He was my first boyfriend, the guy I gave my virginity to. I started
to buy into the idea of us being meant for each other, especially when I saw
how happy my mother was to see us dating.”
“So what happened?” Sadie’s gentle voice prods me to continue.
I shrug. “I wish I knew. Things change, people change. The guy I fell for
when I was younger became someone I didn’t love as much. We drifted
apart, I guess. The intimacy stopped along with the affection. But you
know, isn’t that how it goes with long-term relationships? The honeymoon
phase doesn’t last forever.”
Willow snorts. “Speak for yourself. I don’t plan on letting the intimacy
die off one bit with Ronan.”
I just barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Yeah, well, you two
found unicorns with your men. Most of us have to make do with normal
horses. No magical horns.”
We all break into giggles at my unplanned innuendo. But things quickly
turn serious when Willow reaches one hand over to cover mine.
“Babe, we love you and respect your decision, no matter what,” Willow
says, more gently now. “But I, for one, feel like I’ve kept my mouth shut for
too long. And I regret that choice, because maybe if I had said something
sooner, you wouldn’t be in this shitty position. You’re settling for Baron,
maybe because of your parents, but I think it’s because for some messed up
reason, you don’t see how amazing you are, and how any man would be
lucky to love you. You don’t need to marry him because you think you’ll
never find someone else. You don’t need to marry him because it’s what
everyone expects you to do. You don’t need to marry him, or anyone, unless
you absolutely, without a doubt, love them and can’t imagine a life without
them.”
Tears are forming in my eyes as she speaks, and when she finishes, they
spill over, running down my cheeks. Everything she just said are words I
wish I had convinced myself were true ages ago. But maybe it took getting
to this point for them to truly sink in.
“I don’t love him. And I don’t want to marry him.”
“Then don’t.”
It can’t be that simple.
Can it?
In the silence that follows Willow’s words, I finally give in to what I’ve
wanted to say and do for so long.
“I’m breaking up with Baron.”
 “Thank fuck for that,” Willow says, leaning back in her chair and flinging
her hands in the air dramatically.
I manage to laugh, even as I’m crying. They’re happy tears. Relieved
tears. Nervous, but finally excited-for-the-future tears.
Sadie lifts her glass. “To making the right decision.”
I swipe away my tears, then with a tremulous smile that grows stronger
with every second, I pick up my glass. “To making the right decision.
Finally”
I drink, feeling completely at peace with my choice. It’s not going to be
easy, ending a relationship that has defined me for so many years, but it has
to happen. It will happen. For once, I’m standing up for what I need, instead
of letting others decide what should happen.
And no matter what, I know I’ve got my friends to support me through it
all.
As for Dan? Well, maybe what Willow said is true, and all that was
stopping him was me being in a relationship. The thought of that is both
exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. Especially since I know the
only way to find out is to make the first move.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight

Monty
“Hiiiii, Dan. You’re amazing, you know that, right? Like, super-cool-
fantastic-awesome-amazing. And like, a great guy. And a great friend. And
you have a great butt. Oh my God, pretend I didn’t just say that. Okay.
Wow. So, um, anyway. I’m out with Willow and Sadie and they just bought
a bottle of champagne to help me celebrate. Oh! Wait. I’m not celebrating
getting married. I’m celebrating not getting married! Yeah. I have finally
decided to stop being stupid. I’m ending it with Baron. Oh man, I think I
gotta go drink champagne. Champaaaaaaaaaaagne. That’s a funny word to
say. Okay, anyway, ummm, I don’t know what else to say, except you’re
amazing! Okay. Bye!”
I listen to Lark’s drunken, giggly message for a third time as I drive
through the city toward the restaurant Willow texted me they were at. The
first time I listened, I almost dropped my phone. The second time, I paced
around my apartment, alternating between shaking my head in disbelief and
grinning. This time, I’m coaching myself not to get too excited.
Just because she’s ending it with the asshole doesn’t mean there’s
anything there for me. She might say I’m amazing, and have a great butt,
but she also said I’m a great friend. Goddamn friend zone. I hate it here.
Can I give up my lifetime membership? Please?
 At Grayson’s game last week, so many people were looking at the two of
us. Probably taking notice of how Lark would lean against me or steal my
water to take a drink. Things couples do.
Oh, how wrong they were to assume that.
I’m a great friend. So great, I’ll press pause right at my favourite scene in
The Empire Strikes Back to pick her up.
Luke’s freak-out over the identity of his father? Classic.
I pull up outside the restaurant and thankfully find a parking spot. It’s a
fancy place from the looks of the people coming out the door. I glance
down at my grey sweats and hoodie, complete with a pizza stain in the
middle of my chest, briefly second-guessing my decision to not bother
changing before coming. But Willow made it sound like Lark was too drunk
to just take an Uber home. So here I am, dressed like a schlub, ready to
make sure she gets home safe.
The second I get out of my car, I hear someone call my name. Looking
over, I see Ronan Sinclair, the first baseman for the Tridents, walking up.
“Hey Monty, you here for Lark? We could have driven her home.”
That makes me pause, because yeah, he could have. “Willow just said I
should come and get Lark.”
Ronan does a terrible job of hiding his smirk. “She did, did she. I see.”
I pointedly ignore him. Just then, the door to the restaurant opens, and
three women stumble out, holding onto each other and giggling.
We start toward them, Willow spotting us first. “There you are, our
knights in shining” — her gaze drops down, then back up with a giggle —
“sweatpants.” She waltzes over to Ronan, wrapping her arms around him
and plastering a kiss on his face. “Hi.”
Turning my attention from them, I see Sadie, standing to the side, typing
something on her phone, and Lark, looking at me.
“Why are you here?” she asks, then hiccups, slapping a hand over her
mouth.
“Willow said you needed a ride home.” I stuff my hands in my pockets.
Does she not want me here? Then she starts to sway, and I step forward,
wrapping my arm around her shoulders to support her. “And it looks like
you had a good time.”
Her head falls onto my shoulder as she lets out a soft giggle. “I did. I feel
good, Dan. Really good. For the first time in a long time.”
 I want so badly to ask her if that’s because she’s ending it with Baron, but
now’s not the time. Not when she can barely stand up on her own. “Okay,
Birdie. Let’s get you home.”
I steer her over toward my car, waving goodbye to Ronan who’s loading
the other two into his car.
As I pull out of the parking lot, I make a snap decision to take her back to
my place. It’s closer than hers, and if she’s had as much to drink as I think
she has, the sooner I get some water into her and get her horizontal, the
better. “Hey, Lark, we’re gonna go to my place, okay? You can sleep it off
there, so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Mm-hmm,” is her only reply, and I glance over to see her leaning
against the window, her eyes closed.
A couple of minutes later, soft snores fill the car.
When I pull into my parking stall, Lark is still asleep, her head against the
headrest. I sit there for a couple of minutes, watching her. Is it creepy to
watch her sleep? Maybe, but I can’t help it. She’s so damn pretty, and
seeing her so relaxed and peaceful with me, knowing she trusts me enough
to get her home safely, to fall asleep in my presence, it does something to
me. I like being the guy she can rely on. No, I love it. I’ve witnessed my
parents’ love over the years, and this is what it’s like for them. They know,
without a doubt, they’re safe with each other. I’ve seen my dad climb a
ladder with my mom holding the bottom. I’ve watched my mom care for
my dad when he’s sick, and my dad do everything for my mom after she
had surgery a few years ago. Their love, their support, their trust. That’s
what I want for myself.
That’s what I want with Lark.
Quietly, I open my door, closing it just as softly before going around to
her side. This part will be a bit more tricky, but I manage to open the door,
reaching in to unbuckle her. Then, using the muscles honed over years of
being a catcher, I squat down and scoop her into my arms, lifting her out of
the car.
“Dan?” she mumbles, her head lifting.
“Shh, it’s okay, Birdie. I got you,” I whisper back. And her head falls
against my shoulder, her arms winding around my neck.
“Always,” she whispers against my skin, and my goddamn heart stutters
in my chest.
“Yeah, always.”
 Somehow, I manage to lock my car, and then I carry her over to the
elevator. Thank God for automatic opening doors. The elevator is empty the
whole way up to my apartment. But that’s where it gets tricky. My keys are
in my hand, and even though my arms are starting to feel the strain of
carrying her for this long, I get the door unlocked and open without
smacking her head against it.
Go me.
Once inside, I carry her straight down the hall to my bedroom and set her
down on my bed. Good thing I never bother to make it in the morning, so
the blankets are already pulled down. Eyeing her outfit, I decide against
trying to get her into something else. Until, that is, her eyes blink open, and
she pushes her way to sitting.
“Where are we?”
“My place,” I say, walking over to my dresser and pulling out a T-shirt
and some shorts. “If you want to change, here you go. Sleep it off and I’ll
take you home in the morning.”
She rubs her face and gives me a small smile. “Thanks.” Her mouth
opens in an adorable yawn that morphs into a hiccup. “Oh my God.” She
moans. “Too much wine.”
I chuckle and move into my kitchen to fill a glass with water and grab her
some painkillers. When I get back to my bedroom, I freeze in the doorway.
Her back is to me, but she’s taken off her clothes, leaving her in nothing but
a pair of black panties.
Whipping around, I clear my throat. “I’ve got some water for you.”
“Oh!” I hear her soft sound of surprise, then the rustle of fabric. “I’m
decent.”
Turning around slowly, I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. Decent? She’s
wearing my shirt, and the shorts are still on the bed beside her. Which
means she has nothing else on underneath except those black panties.
I don’t dare step any closer, simply extend my arm with the glass of
water. She closes the distance and takes it.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll be on the couch.”
Her head slowly nods. “You’re a good friend, Dan Montgomery.”
“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out hoarse. “Sure.”
As I turn to go lick my wounds over that goddamn word friend, her hand
darts out and grabs my wrist. I twist back around, and she lifts up onto her
toes, her lips brushing my cheek gently, too fast for me to register what
she’s doing until she’s stepping back with a soft smile.
“Goodnight.”
I’m too dumbfounded to say anything, my head bobbing up and down as
my only response. Then I turn and stagger to my living room before
collapsing on the couch. Only then do I exhale slowly, my hand running
through my hair.
It figures. The first time I feel Lark’s lips on my skin, she’s so drunk she
probably won’t remember it in the morning.
But I sure as shit will.

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 Chapter Nine

Lark
Oh my God. My head feels like tiny elephants are stampeding through it.
There’s a blinding light burning the backs of my eyes. My mouth is drier
than the desert and feels like it’s full of fluff.
Hangovers are so stupid.
Forcing myself to blink my eyes open, for a minute, I’m confused. Where
the heck am I? Then I inhale slowly, the scent of fresh laundry blowing in
the breeze as familiar to me as anything.
Dan.
The guys on the team tease him about his obsession with making sure his
laundry smells good, but I secretly love it. I don’t need musky, woodsy,
whatever. Give me clean laundry smell any day.
I burrow my head in his pillow as bits and pieces of last night come back
to me. Drinking with Willow and Sadie, deciding to end my engagement,
and then Dan showing up like a white knight to take me home.
Wait.
Did I…
Oh God.
With a muffled groan, I roll over, and spy my phone on the bedside table.
Opening it, I check my call log. Yup, there it is, a two-minute call to Dan’s
phone. Except, I don’t remember him answering. No, I left him a rambling
voice message. And I can’t remember what I said.
Dropping my phone, I yank the covers over my head. Except, all that
does is flood my senses with his smell.
Tossing off the covers, I glance down. Crap, I’m wearing his clothes?
This is…this is too much. I need to get out of here, get rid of this hangover,
and get my head thinking clearly.
Because the one thing my traitorous brain keeps imagining? Is waking up
in this bed…
With Dan next to me.

I’m not proud of sneaking out of Dan’s apartment, still wearing his T-shirt,
no less. But when I gathered my stuff and walked out to his living room, he
looked so peaceful, asleep on his couch. I didn’t have it in me to wake him
up.
Not to mention, I wasn’t ready to face him. Not until I figure out what to
do about everything.
As soon as I’m home, having taken a taxi back to the restaurant to collect
my car, I get in the shower, turning it on as hot as it can go.
That, along with some eucalyptus-scented body wash, helps to clear some
of the hangover. And when I step out, I roll on some peppermint and
lavender essential oil to deal with the pounding in my head as I get dressed.
First things first. I need to talk to Baron. I don’t feel good about having
this conversation while he’s still away, but there’s no way I can wait any
longer to end this. It has to happen, and it has to happen now.
I make a cup of coffee and a bagel, then settle in on my couch. Even
though it’s still very early here in Vancouver, Baron’s work trip has him on
the East Coast, meaning it’s a reasonable hour there.
Sure enough, he answers my video call immediately.
“Hey Lark, what’s up?”
I look at him for a second, trying to find any love in the way he looks at
me or in the way he greets me. But there’s nothing there. I suppose the fact
that we haven’t spoken — not even a text — in several days is proof that
I’m making the right decision. I deserve someone who wants to talk to me
every day, who cares about me, my life, my heart. I deserve more than a
“What’s up?”
“Hi. How’s your trip so far?”
“Fine. I’m about to head into the office for a meeting, so I only have a
few minutes. What can I do for you?”
“Baron, do you still love me?” I ask, ripping off the Band-Aid. I watch
him closely to see his reaction. All he does is raise his eyebrows.
“What kind of a question is that?”
“A perfectly reasonable one if we’re meant to be getting married in a few
weeks,” I fire back.
His gaze drops away from the phone, and I hear him exhale a long, slow
sigh. “Lark, I really don’t have time for this.”
Stubbornly, I ignore him. “It shouldn’t be that hard to answer me. Unless
you don’t, in which case, we’re making a big mistake.”
“We’ve been together for so long, and our families —”
“Forget our families, Baron. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love
with my entire heart and soul. And I deserve to marry someone who loves
me that way in return.” I pause, staring at him until he finally looks up.
“And so do you.”
Emotions play across his usually placid face, eventually settling on relief.
And that sentiment is echoed in myself. Baron’s not a bad guy, he’s just not
right for me. And I’m not going to settle for not right any longer.
“I did love you.”
I finally give him a small smile, because I get it. “I know. It was good for
a while. But we changed.”
He nods slowly. “We did. And I’m sorry for that.” He glances to the side,
then back to the phone as he stands up. “Look, can we continue this later, I
really do need to go.”
And just like that, any goodwill I was feeling for him based on how this
conversation was going dissipates. How can this not take priority?
“No, your meeting can wait a couple more minutes.”
I guess my annoyance comes through because he stops. “Okay…”
Taking a deep breath, I finally say it. “I don’t think we should get
married.”
I see his lips purse as he blows out his breath. “No, I don’t suppose we
should.” There’s a slight tinge of regret to his voice, but mostly it’s
acceptance.
 Which gives me the courage to forge on, all the words that have been
swirling around in my head for weeks pouring out of me. Being this honest,
this raw, feels uncomfortable, there’s no doubt. Especially since we’ve
never been this way with each other. But instinctively, I know there’s no
other option right now. Not if we want a clean break.
“And I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. Amicably. I don’t hate
you or anything, but I don’t love you, and I don’t want to be with you
anymore. You’re a good man, and at one point, we were happy together. But
that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together forever. No matter what
everyone else thinks. We want different things, have different goals and
ideas for the future. And we probably should have talked about all of that
before we got engaged, but I think we both got caught up in what we
believed we should do instead of what we wanted to do.”
He nods again.
“So this is me saying it’s time to do what we want, what will make us
happy. Instead of worrying about everyone else.”
A small, somewhat sad smile twitches at his lips. “You’re a smart woman,
Lark. Kind and beautiful. You would have made an excellent wife. But
you’re right. We changed. As individuals and as a couple. And for what it’s
worth, I’m sorry I let it get this far.”
Hearing him apologize, hearing him be honest and admit his feelings in
return, is exactly what I needed. The last chain around me falls away. I
didn’t realize I was harbouring some guilt over my decision to end our
relationship, but given how good I feel right now, I guess I did. And now,
knowing he doesn’t want to go through with it either, that guilt dissipates
leaving me feeling nothing but relief.
We talk for a few minutes longer, sorting out the details of how and when
we’ll tell our families. In the end, we decide to handle it separately, for
which I’m eternally grateful. Not having to face Cordelia Hazelwood and
tell her that her wedding plans were for nothing? Sounds great to me.
I hang up with Baron after agreeing we’ll meet up when he’s back in
town for us to return anything we have of each other’s and for me to give
the ring back. Then I slide it off my finger and set it on my dresser. Staring
down at the band, the diamond sparkling up at me, I feel an overwhelming
sense of lightness. As if removing that ring removed a weight from me.
I still have to deal with my own family, but after that? I’m free.
And I know exactly what I’m going to do first.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

Monty
I woke up to an empty apartment and a sore neck from sleeping on the
couch. Not the best start to my day.
She left without a note, no sign she had even been here except for the
folded-up pair of shorts I guess she never put on and the water glass beside
the bed. That and the pillow I normally use was lying lengthwise as if
someone was hugging it in their sleep.
That makes me smile.
I make a quick protein shake and shoot a text to Darling and Yami.
MONTY: My dudes. Who’s up for a run this morning?

YAMI: Seriously? Damn, it’s 7 am.

MONTY: Okay T Swift, if you’re too lazy just say so…

YAMI: Don’t bring my imaginary girlfriend into this.

YAMI: Meet at the usual spot?

 DARLING: Y’all are lazy. I’ve been up since 6. Already done my
yoga. See you there in thirty?

MONTY: It’s on like donkey kong. And Yami, I’ll treat you to
donuts after.

YAMI: Fine. But I want TWO donuts.

With just a few minutes to get ready before I need to leave and meet the
guys, I briefly debate texting Lark. In the end, my self-doubt wins and I don’t.
She probably doesn’t remember much from last night. Heck, she might even
be embarrassed that I had to carry her inside. Not that I care; any excuse to
hold her. Besides, she was a cute drunk, with those little hiccups and giggles.
And seeing her in my shirt, in my bed?
Goddamn, that was as close to heaven as I’ve ever been.
I get dressed in compression tights, shorts, and a Tridents long sleeve
thermal shirt, grab a toque, my keys and a water bottle, and I’m out the door.
When I pull into the parking lot in Stanley Park where the guys and I like to
meet, I can’t help but remember the last time I went for a run here.
With Lark.
The day she told me she was engaged.
I’ve avoided this spot since then and didn’t realize it until now.
Darling’s already waiting, but there’s no sign of Yami as I get out of my car.
“Mornin’, how long are we gonna wait for him?” Darling says as I walk
over.
I shrug. “We’ll give him a few, we’re early.” I start to do some warm-up
stretches, letting the crisp November air fill my lungs. If the skies stay clear
all day like they’re meant to, I’m going to head up to one of the local
mountains with my telescope.
It wasn’t easy being a science geek in a small town. And even being on a
sports team, helping them hit the championships, didn’t outweigh the social
suicide I brought on myself with my Star Wars T-shirts and space puns. Yeah,
I was the nerd in school who wanted to study the stars.
At least now as an adult, I can embrace my nerdy side openly, and not fear
the backlash. If anything, people love me even more for it — now.
I’ve always said that if I hadn’t gone on to play ball professionally, I would
have considered getting a degree in astrophysics. Visiting NASA is a bucket
list dream of mine.
A low black sports car speeds into the parking lot, the music thumping from
inside.
“Always gotta make an entrance,” Darling says, a wry smile on his face.
We’ve all got our roles to play. Where I’m the friendly one, Darling’s the
southern gentleman, Maverick’s the bad boy, Sin’s the father figure, and
Yami? He’s the drama queen.
We’re finding our groove as a duo, and most of the time, our energies
compliment each other. We’re both outgoing and love to have fun. But where
I try to put everyone else first, Yami can be a bit more selfish sometimes. Not
malicious, though. Nah, the guy doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. But
it’s the little things like this — blaring loud music early in the morning, not
caring who he might disturb as he drives through town.
When he cuts his engine and the music stops, the silence feels abrupt. He
climbs out of his car and immediately stretches his arms overhead with a
yawn.
“It is so fucking early.”
“Okay, you big baby, stretch and let’s go. I want some donuts.” Darling
starts to bounce side to side.
We set off, the pace nice and easy, the only sound our breathing. But as
always happens when us guys get together, the competition soon starts. And
the next thing I know, I’m sprinting against Yami, proving catchers can do
more than just squat.
Once again, I’m reminded of racing Lark that day. I guess it’s not one I’ll
soon forget, seeing as it felt like the end of something that never even had the
opportunity to start.
Except now? Now I might have a second chance with her. Maybe being
here in the same place where she broke my heart without ever knowing it, the
day after she tells me she’s ending things with Baron, is a sign. A sign my
time is coming.
After finishing our run, I make good on my offer and we head to a local
bakery that specializes in gourmet donuts.
We sit down at a table, each with a donut and coffee in front of us, and dive
in. This is why I love the offseason. I can eat donuts after a run and not worry
the team nutritionist is gonna give me shit.
Not that it would stop me from having one during the season, but still.
Guilt-free donut? Yes, please and thank you.
“Excuse me, hi, um, are you guys from the Tridents?”
 We all turn at the high-pitched, feminine voice. I gotta be honest, it’s way
more common for dudes or kids to come up to us, but every now and then,
women will approach us. Like the pair standing next to our table right now.
“Yes, we are, pretty lady.” Darling turns on the charm, his accent somehow
more pronounced as he gives the women a grin. I just internally roll my eyes.
He knows being the good old southern boy gets them every time.
“Oh my God, we love the Tridents!” One of them giggles, and without
being asked, the two of them start to pull over chairs and sit down.
A brunette squeezes in between me and Yami, the space so narrow her thigh
is pressed against mine. I give her a small smile and try to subtly put some
space between us, which proves impossible. “Hey. I’m Monty.”
“Hi, I’m Leia,” she says in return.
“Like from Star Wars?” I blurt out, and she nods, giggling again. Not sure
how my question was funny, but okay. Or wait, do I have something stuck in
my teeth? I run my tongue over them to check but can’t feel anything.
A hand lands on my arm, startling me. “So, what position do you play,
Monty?” she asks coyly.
“I thought you said you love the Tridents?” I ask without thinking about
how it might sound. “I’m one of the catchers.” And seeing as there’s only
three of us, a fan would know who I am.
Her face falls slightly, but she recovers quickly. “Right, of course.” She
giggles again. Okay, now that sound is getting annoying. And I’m not easily
annoyed. Leia leans in and presses her chest into my arm. Woah, that’s not
cool. I try to shift away but Yami’s on my other side and there’s nowhere to
go.
“Uh, yeah. So.” I push away from the table, my chair scraping across the
floor and stand up, dislodging her. “I gotta take a leak.”
I escape to the back of the bakery, not even sure if there is a washroom
back here. But I don’t know how to act around women like Leia. Women who
are bold and forward. It’s cool, I mean, all power to them. I just don’t have a
fucking clue what to do when I’m not interested in that at all.
At least, not with them.
After a couple of minutes, I peer around the corner, and to my relief, the
girls are gone. I make my way back to the table and sink down in my chair.
“Monty. Dude. What the fuck?” Yami punches my shoulder. “She was into
you.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t into her,” I reply lightly. “I’m here for donuts, not
girls.”
 “Who says you can’t have both?”
“Give our boy a break, Yami,” Darling says, leaning forward. “Everyone
knows he’s only got eyes for one woman. He has since the day he joined the
team, ain’t that right?” He looks at me, sympathy clear on his face. “But
Monty, you gotta figure out how to move on. She’s gettin’ hitched.”
I want to tell them she’s not. But it’s not my news to share, so I keep my
mouth shut, and just incline my head to show I heard him. He is right, I’ve
had eyes for Lark since the very beginning, and unfortunately, these guys
know the story all too well.
They helped me work up the courage to ask her out, witnessed me show up
at the stadium with flowers, only to find her kissing some dude in khaki
shorts and a polo shirt.
She introduced him as Baron, her boyfriend. Of course, the guy wearing
fucking khakis and a polo shirt had a name like Baron. There was no
mistaking the arrogance as he looked me over. I can still remember how his
chin lifted, likely taking in my clothes — athletic wear for the workout I had
to go and do — and clearly finding me lacking. I knew right then, there was
no hope for me. If she was with a guy like him, she’d never want a guy like
me.
“Who’s up for some batting practice this afternoon?” I ask as a way to try
and redirect the conversation. It works, and talk turns to what time we want to
meet up at the stadium to get some hits in.
Thank fuck. Talking about women with my teammates is one thing I work
hard to avoid. I don’t want to deal with the questions that might come up. It’s
been easier to let them believe I’m pining over Lark and that’s why I’ve never
had a girlfriend.
And I mean, let’s be real. That’s basically the truth.
They just don’t need to know exactly how true it is. It’s not only the last
few years that have seen me single as single can be. It’s my entire damn life.

Hours later, after meeting the guys for BP, then joining some of them for
dinner at a local pub, night has fallen and I still haven’t heard from Lark. She
wasn’t at the stadium either, at least not that I could see.
But the skies are still clear, which means, regardless of how I’m feeling
about the lack of communication from her, my mission is a go.
 I grab an old hoodie from my closet and the large case that holds my baby.
My pride and joy. The second most important item I own, next to my very
first catcher’s mitt.
Once my astronomy gear is loaded in the car, I drive out of the city, and up
the winding road that climbs one of the mountains in North Vancouver. When
I reach the lookout I’m headed for, it’s empty.
Perfect.
It takes no time at all to set up my telescope, the hardest part being leveling
the tripod on the rocky ground. But I’ve set up here many times before, so it’s
doable. The air is cold tonight, with a bit of wind that’s biting against my
skin. I grab the jacket I’m grateful I tossed in at the last minute and zip it up
tight. There’s no snow up here yet, but it’s coming soon, I would guess. Then
I won’t be able to come up here so easily, since setting up my equipment in
the snow is a pain.
I take out my phone and open my favourite star chart to double-check the
location of what I want to see, then set the telescope in that direction. It takes
a bit to align everything and get it into focus but then, there it is.
It’s not the best time of year to view this particular star; in the spring, it’s
much brighter. But there she is. The star I bought two years ago as a birthday
present. A present I never gave to the person I purchased it for, worried it
would be seen as too much.
The star I named Birdie.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven

Monty
I love sleep. Sleep is awesome. Babies have it so good, all they have to
do is eat, sleep, poop, and cry whenever they want. And take toddlers. Some
of them actually protest nap time! Come on, kid, don’t you realize sleep is
fucking amazing?
Mom said since the day I was born, I loved to sleep. She actually worried
about me as a newborn because all I wanted to do was eat and be cuddled
while I slept.
All of that is to say, when it’s the one morning this week I’m allowing
myself to sleep in as late as I want, and someone won’t stop knocking on
my door, I’m not pleased.
Security in my building is pretty tight, which means there’s only a few
people it could be. The guys on the team are on my approved entry list.
Hell, Darling lives two floors below me. Lark and my parents have access,
but that’s about it.
Normally, none of those people are ones I’d be grumpy toward, but I was
really looking forward to that sleep in. Which is why there’s a frown on my
face when I drag my feet over to the front door.
“Okay, okay. Geez. Give a guy a chance to wake up,” I grumble. But
when I wrench open the door, ready to give whoever it is a hard time for
waking me up, the grumpy, tired feeling fades away in an instant. Lark is
standing there, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, and a nervous
expression on her face I’ve never seen before.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft, just above a whisper.
“Hey,” I say, the word catching in my throat, my voice cracking like a
fucking teenager going through puberty. I clear it, and try again, attempting
to look cool and casual as I stand in the doorway. But given the fact that I’m
still in my pajamas with Wookiees all over the pants and holes in my T-
shirt, I’m guessing I fail.
“I mean, hi, Lark. How’s it going this fine morning?”
Jesus Christ. Now I sound like a dork. And seeing as she’s fighting not to
smile, she thinks so, too.
I push off the door and step back. “Wanna come in?”
She nods, biting her lip, and brushes past me. Heading straight to the
kitchen, I watch with some bemusement as she just makes herself at home,
turning on the coffee maker and pulling down two of my Star Wars-themed
mugs. The one she always uses is black and reads “This Is Not The Coffee
You Are Looking For.” The other is one of my favourites and reads “May
The Caffeine Be With You.” It’s not like this is the first time she’s made
coffee in my apartment, but something seems off. Her hand trembles
slightly when she sets the mugs down, and her movements are jerky as she
goes to the fridge to pull out the vanilla flavoured creamer I keep there for
her.
“Lark, what’s going on?” I ask, starting to get concerned. “Is this about
the other night? Because I swear, I don’t care that you were drunk. It was no
big deal helping out. You didn’t puke or anything. And I slept on the couch
the whole time, promise.”
“I broke up with Baron.”
The silence that falls after she says the five words I’ve wanted to hear for
years is deafening.
Then, like a total idiot, I open my big mouth. “Oh. That’s cool.”
Lark makes some weird sound, something between a hysterical laugh and
a snort, immediately clapping her hand over her mouth. I reach my hand up
and scrub it across my face, partly wishing I could rewind time by ten
minutes or so and not make a fool out of myself in front of my female best
friend.
“Let me try again,” I rasp. “How are you feeling about that?”
 There, that sounds better. More appropriate of a response. But when I
force myself to meet Lark’s gaze, I am very much unprepared for what
happens next.
Like a tiny blond tornado, she flings herself across the kitchen, my arms
opening just in time to catch her. But when I go to hold her away from my
body, she presses in. My eyes widen as she fumbles her hands up to cup my
cheeks, fiery determination clear in her gaze.
She pauses, her eyes searching my face.
I hear her mutter under her breath, “Fuck it.”
Then.
Holy shit.
Then, she kisses me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twelve

Lark
Somehow, I keep it together until I pull my car into the parking lot of the
Tridents stadium. Then, and only after making sure there’s no one around to
witness my impending freak-out, I drop my head to the steering wheel,
thunking it over and over again as I mutter under my breath, “What. Was. I.
Thinking.”
Once my forehead starts to hurt, I stop beating myself up, physically, at
least. Slumping back in my seat, I let my eyes fall closed, my mind instantly
bringing up the image of Dan’s face after I pulled back from our kiss. Shock
was written all over his features, from the rigid stance of his body to his
blank expression.
It wasn’t the reaction of a man with romantic feelings. It was the reaction
of a man stunned by what I did. And not necessarily in a good way.
I didn’t wait around to discuss what happened. Instead, I bolted from his
apartment as if I was trying to outrun the devil. And maybe I was, if the
devil is my impulsive decision to kiss my best guy friend just a few hours
after breaking off my engagement.
I guess I drove on autopilot, coming to the stadium like this. I do have
some work to do, a couple guys coming in for treatment, but not until later
on.
 But I climb out of my car anyway and slowly make my way into the
facility. It’s drizzling, cold, and wet. Kind of fitting, given the way I feel.
Like there’s a very real possibility I messed everything up.
Inside, the stadium is fairly quiet. Most of the offseason work happens up
in the administrative offices. The lower level where the gym, locker rooms,
and training facilities are located tends to be mostly empty with so many of
the players not in the city right now. When I push open the doors to the
therapy wing where we do all medical and rehab assessments and
treatments, the Tridents’ head trainer Mattias is there, walking out with one
of the second basemen, Ben.
“See you next week and remember to take it easy on that knee.”
“Will do.” Ben gives Mattias a nod and turns toward the door. “Oh, hey,
Lark. How’s it going?”
I muster up what I hope is a believably calm smile. “Great, thanks. Have
a good one, Ben.”
He leaves and Mattias turns to look at me over his shoulder as he types
some notes into one of the tablets we use to keep track of treatment plans
and progress. “Yo, Lark, you’re here early.”
I set my bag down and move to the coffee machine we installed last year
to save us having to go to the cafeteria all the time. “Yeah, I figured I’d get
a workout in, catch up on some notes.”
Lies. All lies.
But Mattias just nods. “Cool. Any word from the university yet?”
He submitted a reference on my behalf to the research team, but
honestly? That is the last thing on my mind right now.
“No, nothing yet.”
“It’ll come soon,” he says. “Hey, I’m heading to Maura’s for lunch, want
me to grab you a sandwich when I go?”
“Sure, that would be great, thanks.”
The mundane conversation does the trick of settling some of my freak-out
nerves. Coffee in hand, I move into the smaller room where I have a table
for when I need to do manual treatments. Setting my water bottle and coffee
down on the small desk, I fire up my computer and check my emails and
calendar for the day. Nothing new has cropped up, which means I’ve got
some time. I could do what I told Mattias and go to the gym, but I need to
talk to someone first, before I explode.
A few minutes later, I’m knocking on Willow’s office door.
 “Hey girl, come on in.”
I walk in, close her door, and sink down onto a chair. “I did it. I ended
things with Baron.”
The pen Willow was holding clatters to the desk. “Holy fuck, really?”
She stands up, moving quickly around the desk to sit in the chair next to
me, taking my hand. “That’s great, I’m so happy. Do you feel good about
it? Relieved? Was it easy, or did he give you shit? Do we need to go beat
him up?”
I choke out a laugh. “Yes, yes, sort of, no, and definitely not. He agreed,
we weren’t doing it for the right reasons, and there was no real love
between us. Honestly? The worst part was telling my parents. Did you
know disappointment has a sound? It’s the huff-sigh combo my mother
does that makes it clear she disapproves of my decisions.”
Willow winces. “Yeah, I’m familiar with the sound. Lydia had it down
pat.” Her reference to her former boss makes a small smile break free.
“Lydia would have gotten along great with my mom and Baron’s.”
“Okay, so, he took it well and it’s done now. Why do you look so freaked
out?”
I choke down a sip of coffee, feeling it burn my throat. “Um, well, see, I
couldn’t get what you said at dinner the other night out of my head.”
Her eyebrows raise, and I drop my gaze to my lap.
“About what, exactly?”
“You know what.”
“About Monty? Oh Lark, what did you do?”
To her credit, she doesn’t sound worried or upset, just curious.
“I…kissed him.”
“Oh.”
My head slowly nods up and down. “Yup.”
“Well, what happened next?”
I force myself to lift my gaze and look morosely at Willow. “He was
shocked, frozen. And I bolted.”
“Oh, Lark.” Willow leans forward, pulling me into a hug. “You just took
him by surprise. Don’t think anything of it. The poor guy probably thought
he was dreaming.”
“Or living a nightmare,” I say miserably, letting my fear come to light.
“What if we’ve been reading him all wrong? What if there’s nothing there
but friendship, and I just messed it all up with one stupid kiss?”
 Willow pushes me away, holding my shoulders and shaking them gently.
“Stop it right now, Lark Miller. Believe me when I say, Monty is in love
with you. I think he has been for a long time, but he had no choice but to
bury those feelings out of his respect for you. Now that things are different,
you need to give him a chance to realize that. Did he know you had broken
up with Baron before you kissed him?”
“Yes,” I say, then drop my gaze. “I told him right before I did it.”
Willow’s quiet laugh isn’t mocking in any way. “So he had zero time to
adjust before you gave him the shock of his lifetime and made all of his
dreams come true.”
I try to think of what happened from that perspective, and it’s easy to see
how Willow could be right. I really did kind of blindside him, especially
considering my radio silence between the night he brought me home from
the restaurant and today.
“Okay.” I exhale. “I need to go and talk to him, don’t I?”
Willow stands up, moves back around her desk, and opens a drawer,
pulling out the jar of Skittles Ronan keeps stocked for her. She offers it to
me, and I take a handful.
“Yes, you do,” she says simply, tossing a few Skittles into her mouth.
When she finishes chewing, she leans forward, and looks me straight in the
eye. “But what are you going to say?”
My shoulders lift and fall, because ain’t that the question of the day.
“Honestly? I have no idea. I just got out of a long-term relationship with a
man I mistakenly thought I was going to marry. I’m hardly looking to jump
straight into another relationship, if that’s even what Dan wants.”
Willow lets out a small laugh. “Trust me, that’s what he wants. But he
won’t push you into something you’re not ready for. He’s not like that.”
“And that’s just it. It’s Dan. He’s the best man I know, no offense to Sin.”
Willow gives me a smile and nods her head. “None taken.”
I pop another Skittle into my mouth and continue. “But the idea of being
with Dan doesn’t feel weird. Shouldn’t it feel weird this soon? Or is it just
because I’m ridiculously horny and haven’t had sex in months?” I end with
a groan, shifting forward to drop my head into my hands. “Willow, I’m a
mess. I don’t know what I want or what to do or say or anything. Help.”
“Alright, girlfriend, let’s figure this out.” Willow adopts her take-charge
voice, the one that can corral a locker room full of jocks that need to do
press interviews. “First of all, do you have feelings for Monty that go
beyond friendship?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t let myself ever really consider that,” I answer
quietly, still looking at my hands. “Maybe? Probably? I think I could.”
“We’ll take that as a yes for now. But I think you’re right to not move
quickly. Monty’s a special kind of guy, and I don’t think he would want you
to jump into anything right away, either. So really, nothing has to change.
You’re still friends, it’s just that now you’re friends who are free to explore
whether there’s something more. Just…” She trails off, and I look up.
“Just what?”
Willow looks torn. “I love you, you’re one of my closest friends. But I
care about him, too. So I’m sorry, but I have to say this, just know it doesn’t
mean I’m picking sides or anything.”
I nod quickly. “Okay, what?”
“Be careful with his heart. We all know he’s a fun guy, friendly and
outgoing and not afraid to be silly. But there’s more to him. You know that
probably better than I do. His heart’s on the line just as much as yours is, so
you have to be really clear and honest with each other about what’s going
on. Which you can’t do unless you’re clear and honest with yourself. So
figure out your feelings first, then go and talk to him. And maybe this time,
hold off on the kissing until you’ve sorted out your head and your heart.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirteen

Lark
For the second time in less than twelve hours, I find myself standing
outside Dan’s apartment, nervous as heck. I lift my hand to knock and drop it
back down at least three times. When my phone vibrates in my pocket, it
startles me enough that I take a step back, grateful for the reprieve from the
anxiety of what I’m about to do.
Until I read the message.
DAN: Are you planning on coming in any time soon, or should I
go take a nap?

“Shit,” I mumble under my breath as his door opens, and the man in
question is there, leaning against the door frame. With his arm over his head,
his Mandalorian T-shirt has ridden up, revealing a sliver of skin above the
waist of his jeans. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips, and of course, he
catches me staring.
“Hey, Birdie.”
“Hi,” I whisper back, unable to stop staring at him. He looks different,
somehow. More confident, maybe? Or perhaps I’m just seeing him differently
now that Baron’s not in my life.
Dan pushes off the door frame and takes a step back, inclining his head
inside. “I just ordered some pizza, are you gonna stay for dinner?”
 How he’s able to act so casual when I’m tied up in knots, I do not know.
And honestly, it leaves me even more confused as to how he feels about what
happened this morning. Not that I was expecting him to grab me and pin me
against the door to ravish me — although I’m not sure I’d stop him if he did
— but this nonchalance is disconcerting.
I walk past him, just like I did this morning, only this time, he catches my
hand as I go by. Turning to face him, I take in the raw, vulnerable hope
written on his face.
“You’re not gonna run away again this time, are you?” he asks quietly, and
I shake my head. He squeezes my hand, giving me a small smile, then drops it
to head into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he pulls out two beers, a lager
for him and a fruity ale for me. Cracking the tops, he moves to the glass
sliding doors that lead to his large heated patio. I trail after him, finding some
comfort in these familiar actions.
We’ve had pizza and beer on this patio many times. But this time,
everything’s changed.
I take the beer he hands me and settle down on one of the lounge chairs. I
expect him to take the other, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sets his beer down on
the same table as mine and crouches down next to me.
“Promise you’re not gonna run, no matter what happens next?”
My head is already moving from side to side as I open my mouth to
respond, but he doesn’t give me a chance to say a word.
His lips land on mine, soft and tentative at first, but quickly becoming more
firm and sure. It’s a chaste kiss, sweet, even, but I feel it reverberate
throughout my body, unlocking parts of me that were forced to stay quiet for
too long.
He backs off too soon, and a whimper escapes me. But the look of pure
satisfaction on Dan’s face soothes my disappointment.
“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he says, his voice all gravelly and deep.
He straightens up and moves to the other chair, stretching out on it with a
sigh. All I can do is watch him, shocked, curious, and more than a little turned
on. But to my surprise, Dan leans back, closes his eyes, and just lies there
with a smile.
“What —” I start to say, but he holds his hand up to stop me.
“Nope, we’re gonna talk, Birdie, but first, just give me a minute to soak this
all in.”
His smug tone of voice is tinged with so much joy, I can’t help but smile in
return. Settling back into my chair, I make myself relax under the warmth of
the patio heater.
A hand brushes against the back of mine, fingers lightly grazing. I look
over, but his eyes are still closed, and he’s just smiling up at the evening sky.
But he keeps brushing his fingers back and forth across my hand.
I’m here, his action seems to say. I’ve always been here, waiting for you.
On his next pass, my hand reaches out and takes hold of his. I weave our
fingers together for the first time, holding hands with him as maybe
something more than just friends.
His eyes flutter open and he looks over at me, that little smile deepening.
“So,” he says. “What was that all about this morning? Not that I’m
complaining, in case that wasn’t clear, but I feel like I need to hear you tell
me what it meant.” His hand tightens on mine ever so slightly. “You kissed
me, Lark.”
I swallow down a sip of beer, reaching for the courage to vocalize what I
need to say. Not that I feel like I need it, not anymore. I’m pretty sure I know
how this is going to go. But that doesn’t fully erase the tiny kernel of fear
deep inside me. Is this going to change everything? For the better or for the
worse?
“Yeah, I did. And I’m sorry that I disappeared right after, but I didn’t come
over this morning expecting to kiss you. It was… I don’t even know how to
explain it. Something came over me, something instinctual and a little bit
impulsive. I just knew in that second, I had to kiss you.”
He sits up and pivots, his feet coming to the floor. He braces his elbows on
his knees, and leans over into my space, closing the distance between our two
chairs. “I can understand that,” he says in a low voice. “I’ve been fighting
that impulse for years.”
Dan’s confession warms me from the inside. Hearing him finally put it into
words that he wants me.
“I know I was kind of oblivious, but I truly had no idea how you felt,” I say
honestly, looking down at the amber bottle of beer in my hand. Beer that Dan
keeps in his fridge just for me. The same way I know he has tampons under
his bathroom sink and my favourite brand of licorice in his pantry. He’s been
showing me how he feels in little ways since day one, and I missed it. “I think
I had blinders on because of Baron. It seems everyone else knew how you felt
about me, except for me.” I pick at the label on my beer and decide I need to
ask the one thing I really want to know. “Why didn’t you say something
sooner?”
 His laugh is not a light one, and it’s not an amused one. It’s tinged with
pain and regret, and I hate it.
“Come on, Birdie, what was I meant to do? Tell you that you should break
up with the guy you had been with for years, long before you ever met me,
and go out with me instead? Why the heck would I do that? You seemed
happy, and I wasn’t about to break up something that was making you
happy.”
Except I wasn’t happy. But I don’t tell him that. There’s no sense in adding
to his regret.
“But now,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “Now, there’s nothing in
my way. There’s nothing to come between us. You kissed me, and tonight, I
kissed you. Does that mean as much to you as it does to me?”
I nod slowly, my lips curving up at the corners “It does. It means
everything. But I have to be honest, Dan. I’m scared. You’re one of my
closest friends, and I don’t know what I would ever do if I lost you. As much
as I want to explore whatever this is going on between us, I can’t help but
worry. What if it doesn’t work out? Not only do we work together, but…” I
trail off. Of everything I’ve said tonight, what I’m about to say might be the
hardest words to get out. My voice drops to a whisper, but I force myself to
look him in the eye. “You could break my heart more than anybody else in
this world.”
His hand lets go of mine, only to cup my cheek. Those beautiful brown
eyes stare straight into mine and I feel like I can see to the depths of his soul.
Everything he is, is laid bare.
“Lark, I swear to you, if you give me your heart, I will never do anything
intentionally to hurt it. You mean more to me than anything, almost more than
baseball.” He chuckles. “And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we
don’t regret it if we take things to the next level. I was prepared to only ever
be your friend, and just because there’s now a chance of more doesn’t mean
I’m going to risk losing you.”
I lean into his hand, turning slightly to press a kiss to his palm. His
confident reassurance is like a soft blanket, soothing and settling my fears.
Feeling brave, I push up from my lounge chair, and stand in front of him. For
a moment, he just looks up at me, confused, until I give him a gentle smile.
Realization dawns on him and he lies back on his chair, widening his legs,
making room for me to sit and lean back against his chest.
His arms slowly move to circle me. “Is this okay?” he asks, sounding oddly
tentative. I nod, and his hands settle on my body.
 “You can breathe, Dan,” I say teasingly, and his chest rapidly rises and falls
under me as he laughs.
“Right. Sorry.”
We lie like that for a minute, and I catalogue every sensation. His hard
chest underneath me, the strength of his arms holding me, and something else
growing firmer against the base of my spine.
I shift slightly, and he grunts.
“Sorry,” I whisper, secretly grinning to myself. It’s been a very, very long
time since Baron and I had sex, and from the feel of things, Dan has got some
fun equipment hiding under those jeans.
“No, I am. I can’t…I can’t control it around you.” Embarrassment tinges
his tone and I shift, twisting slightly so I can look up at him.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly, covering his hands with mine. “I mean, I think I’d
be more worried if you didn’t have some kind of a reaction.” I laugh
nervously. “It’s been a long time since I…you know. And um, well, you’re
not the only one whose body is thinking of moving faster than we probably
should.”
Dan chokes out a pained laugh, and I frown. “What? Was that funny?”
“No, no.” He moves under me, and yeah, he’s packing. “It’s just, you say
it’s been a long time.” I feel and hear his long, quiet exhale. “But I can
promise you, it’s been longer for me.”
Confused, I don’t respond right away. “Long as in, a few months?” I
eventually ask, laughing self-deprecatingly. “Because sad as it may sound, it’s
been at least that long for me. Baron wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic guy in
bed. And that is the last I’ll say about that.”
Dan makes a noise, a strange one, and when I once again twist to look at
him, his cheeks are flushed and his gaze is darting all over the place.
Everywhere but toward me.
“Dan?”
“Lark, I…I’m… Well, I’ve never…” His head falls back against the chair.
“Shit.”
My brain struggles to comprehend, but then it clicks. Does he mean...
“Never?” I whisper.
He slowly shakes his head back and forth. “Nope.”
“So you’re a…”
“I’m a virgin, Birdie.”
He says it quietly, calmly, and somewhat resignedly. Is he expecting me to
be upset? I pull out of his arms and turn around to face him fully, crossing my
legs so I can cup his face in my hands.
“Dan, there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing. And I’m honoured you told
me. Thank you for trusting me with that.”
His entire body seems to deflate with relief, and the sweetest little smile
breaks free on his face. “That’s really fucking good to hear you say. And I
trust you with my life, Lark.”
“Can I ask why?” I say, unable to hold the question back.
Dan just shrugs. “A bunch of reasons, but mostly, I never found anyone that
I wanted to go there with.”
My stomach starts to sink until he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my
ear, that sweet smile growing wider.
“Until I found you.”
Shock, warmth, anticipation, happiness, and instant lust all combine within
me, until I feel like a puddle of emotion.
Me. I’m the one person this beautiful, strong, kind man wants. I’ve never
felt this before.
Wanted.
Desired.
It’s almost enough to make me want to rip our clothes off and give myself
to him. But no matter how amazing it is to know that’s how Dan feels, I won’t
let us rush this.
But surely…another kiss or two isn’t rushing it?
I’m leaning forward when I hear him groan.
“Lark, we can’t.”
I freeze. “Wh-what?”
His pained expression is the only thing that makes him stopping me any
easier to accept. “You just, and I mean just ended a long-term, serious
relationship. As much as I’m jumping up and down like a little kid on
Christmas morning inside, I need to pump the brakes on this. I need you to be
sure, really sure, that I’m who you want to be with. Because you say I could
break your heart, well, same. You’ve had my heart for years, and you’re the
only person who could destroy it.”
He’s right. I hate that he’s right, but he is. Moving too fast would be the
worst idea.
“Okay, so friends.”
He nods. “Yeah, friends.”
I bite my lip, not sure if I should say the rest of what I’m thinking. But
tonight has shown me I owe Dan honesty, above all else.
 “Can we be friends who cuddle?”
This time the smile on his face is so big, it’s almost overwhelming. He
grabs me, turns me around, and tucks me right back against his body. “Damn
right we can be.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fourteen

Monty
“Let me get this straight,” Rafe huffs out as we run along the gravel path
that circles Burnaby Lake, an urban park just outside of Vancouver. “She’s
broken up with the idiot, kissed you, made it clear she’s interested in being
more than friends, and you put the brakes on? Monty, you’ve got balls of
steel.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” I say indignantly. “I’ve waited this
long, what’s a little longer? I love her, like, really love her. And if I’ve
finally got a shot at being with her, the last thing I want to do is rush it. She
deserves the fucking world. You know that. And part of that is me giving
her time to settle into a life without her ex in it.”
Rafe slows to a stop, his chest heaving with exertion. His hands go to his
hips as he shakes his head at me. “You are one in a million, Dan
Montgomery. Seriously.”
I duck my head, hoping I’m not blushing. He’s a good friend, someone I
respect and just like as a person. I mean, you don’t spend as long as we did
as a catcher-pitcher duo without bonding. So for him to say that? Means a
lot.
“Thanks, old man. Now, are we running or are we out for a light jog?”
His eyes narrow, and I grin. I’m in for it. Sure enough, he puts on a burst
of speed all of a sudden, passing me, and shouting “See ya, sucker” as he
sprints away. I shake my head, content to let him think he’s got me for a
few seconds.
But I can’t let him get too far ahead. Picking up my pace, I close the
distance between us. Rafe hasn’t played for the Tridents in over a year, and
while I know he keeps up a certain level of conditioning, he’s got nothing
on those of us still actively playing.
Within a couple of minutes, I’m drawing up alongside him, and flash him
another wide grin.
“What was that, Pops?”
He grunts, and I can tell he’s pushing himself to his limits to try and keep
up. Taking pity on the old guy, I moderate my pace so we’re running more
comfortably, side by side.
“Is this what I have to look forward to when I retire? What happened to
the guy who could sprint the bases like the devil was chasing him?”
“He traded in multiple workouts a day for beer, sleeping in, and a good
woman,” Rafe retorts.
His words hit the mark, whether he intended them to or not. I hold deep
respect for Rafe’s choice. A couple of years ago, he found out he had a kid
with a woman he’d loved a long time ago. They reunited, reconciled, and he
chose to retire to spend time with his family.
Someday, I want to be where he is. Happy, in love, surrounded by family,
and living the good life after many years of sacrificing for his career.
But not right now. I’m nowhere near retirement. If anything, my career is
my number one focus, for a lot of reasons. And I’m not talking about my
deep-rooted desire to see my team take the championship one day, even if
that is a big one. I’ve got goals that can only be achieved by putting all of
my energy and effort into being the best goddamn player I can be.
Which is a troubling thought alongside the possibility of a relationship
with Lark.
I never bothered to think about whether or not I could juggle both. It
seemed like it would never happen, so I didn’t let myself consider it.
Except now? It’s a very real possibility. And it’s overwhelming.
“Do you think you could have juggled your relationship with Imogen and
Taylor, as well as your career, if you had wanted to keep playing?” I blurt
out as we slow our pace, nearing the end of the ten-kilometer loop around
the lake.
 Rafe’s head turns my way for a second before he looks forward again.
“You mean if I wasn’t already getting old and at the end of my career?”
“Yeah. Like, if you knew you had a bunch of good years playing ball left,
do you think it’s possible to balance that with a relationship?”
“Lots of guys do.”
My mind darts back to last season, when one of our outfielders found out
his wife wanted a divorce while we were on a stretch of away games.
“Yeah, and lots of guys have relationships fall apart.”
“If you go into any relationship already thinking it could end, you’re
fucked.”
He’s right, and I’m not a glass-half-empty kinda guy. Never have been.
But I am trying to be realistic. I know my feelings for Lark are huge and
could easily be all-consuming. I can’t imagine my life without her in it, and
if I’m being honest, there’s not a chance in hell of me staying away from
her if she truly wants to be with me as more than friends.
Which means, no matter what, I’ll find a way to balance it. Baseball and
my career goals might be number one, but Lark has always been tied with
my family for number two. And if there’s a chance I can have it all?
Game fucking on.

Back at my apartment after my run, I shower, get changed, and chug a

protein shake. I missed a call from my mom, so after sitting down on my
couch, I pull up their number to call her back.
“Hi, honey.” Mom’s voice makes me smile.
“Hey, Mom, sorry I missed you earlier. Rafe and I were out for a run.”
“I figured you might be. Hang on, let me just finish making my tea.” The
phone clatters, and I know she’s put it on the counter. I can hear muffled
sounds coming through, and in my mind, I picture Mom bustling around
their kitchen that desperately needs updating, getting the milk and sugar
out, and fixing her tea in the china cups she prefers.
I’ve tried to convince my parents to let me pay for renovations ever since
I signed my first contract with the Tridents, but they’ve always refused,
telling me to save my money for a rainy day.
It’s Vancouver. It’s always raining.
 I don’t know how to get them to see that taking care of them would be the
best way for me to say thank you for everything they’ve done for me. I
might be biased, but I swear, Howard and Edith Montgomery are the best
parents on the entire planet. And the most annoying for refusing any help
from me beyond physical labour when I go to visit.
Even that takes some convincing.
“Alright, I’m here now. How are you doing?” Mom’s voice returns.
“Good. Taking it easy, enjoying some slower days,” I say in return,
settling back against the couch cushions. “How’s Dad? Did you get him in
for his physical yet?”
Mom laughs. “Oh, Daniel, you know your father. Getting him to take
time out for things like that is almost impossible. But yes, I made the
appointment, and didn’t tell him until that morning, so it was too late to
cancel. He saw the doctor and got a clean bill of health.”
That’s a relief. The biggest downside to having older parents is being all
too aware of their declining health and rapidly approaching mortality. It’s a
fact of life we all have to face, and growing old is a privilege. But watching
my parents age has become more and more difficult over recent years.
“Did the doctor convince him to slow down at the store at all?”
Mom snorts. “Of course not.”
My head moves slowly back and forth, even though she can’t see it. I
pinch the bridge of my nose and decide to shoot my shot. “You know I’d
help cover the cost of you hiring more staff. A manager, even. Anything to
take some of the workload.”
“And you know that when your father and I reach that point, we’ll talk.”
Her tone is firm and leaves no room for discussion.
Even if I highly doubt that point will never come.
“Okay. What else is new?” I ask. There’s nothing to be gained by pushing
her, which means changing topics is the best option.
“Well, let me tell you something I heard from Linda…”
I get off the phone with her a half hour later, after promising to come
back out for dinner later in the week. When I said I was going to bring Lark
with me, I could hear the curiosity in her voice. They’ve met a couple of
times, but I’ve never brought her to my childhood home.
When it starts vibrating a couple of minutes later with a call from my
agent, I get right back on the phone. He was Rafe’s agent, as well, and a
good dude. Total shark, but one that gives a shit about his players.
 “Hey, Rocky,” I say, wandering into the kitchen and filling a glass with
water. “What’s shakin’?”
“Monty, my man, how’s it going? Keeping up with conditioning?” Rocky
says by way of greeting. It’s always business first with him, but I can’t
resist having some fun.
“You know it, can’t let my ass get flabby or I won’t bring in the big
bucks. Who wants a catcher without a great butt?”
He snorts, which is exactly the response I wanted. “Right, I don’t exactly
want to talk about your ass, Monty. But good to know you’re keeping in
shape. Let’s talk next season. Last one on this contract, you know what that
means?”
Yeah, it means the pressure’s on and dialed up to a hundred.
But I don’t say that to Rocky. “Of course. It means I play the same way I
always do. With a smile on my face and my eye on the ball.”
“That’s my boy. Okay, are you still set on wanting to stay in Vancouver?
Is that what we’re working toward? Because even though you’ve got a year
left, there’s some chatter about Arizona wanting you.”
“No.” My response is swift and firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Rocky.
Vancouver or nothing. And it better not fucking be nothing.”
“Heard, loud and clear. Just wanted to make sure that was still your
opinion. Because they could be willing to offer you big bucks.”
“I want the big bucks from Vancouver. This is my home, and I don’t want
to play anywhere else.”
“Then you really need to pull out all the stops. Be a fucking wall behind
the plate. Show them you’re the best goddamn catcher out there and worth
every penny you want from them.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, realizing I’m clenching the water glass so tightly
my hand is starting to tremble. I set it down, opening and closing my fist a
few times. “I’ll do my job on the field; you do your job in the board room.”
“Deal. Now, let’s talk sponsorships.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fifteen

Lark
Over the next week, two things happen. Winter fully sets into Vancouver,
bringing freezing cold rain and wind, but of course, no snow. And Dan
seems to unconsciously make it his mission in life to drive me crazy. Crazy
horny, that is.
Which is amusing, considering his confession. I’m still stunned by that.
How is a sexy pro baseball player still a virgin in his late twenties? He’s
like a unicorn, I guess. I know there must be more to his reason why he
hasn’t had sex, and someday, I hope he’ll tell me. But for now, I can’t help
but feel special to be the one he confided in.
But at the same time, knowing that brings with it some nerves. Could I
really act as just his friend, knowing what I do now, feeling the way I do?
But outwardly, at least, nothing seems all that different. We still meet for
early morning runs, have dinner together, watch our favourite Star Wars
movies — the original ones, of course — and talk about everything and
anything.
Everything except what’s happening between the two of us. That subject
is off-limits.
And despite the seemingly normal interactions, there’s been a thread of
anticipation lying just under the surface. I don’t know if that’s all in my
head or if Dan notices it, too, but it feels like a steady stream of low
intensity static electricity running through my body. Making me feel as if
every cell is buzzing, more alive than normal, with occasional shocks when
his hand brushes against mine, or he gives me that goofy smile that
suddenly means so much more.
Or like tonight, when he seems to be sensing my every move.
“I’m thirsty, you want anything?” He jumps up from the couch as soon as
I start to shift. How did he know I was about to stand up and go get some
water?
I blink up at him. “Sure, some water would be great.”
He hurries into my kitchen, and I hear him take down two glasses and the
tap running. I open my mouth to ask him to bring back some snacks when I
hear another cupboard open. When I swivel my head to look, he’s taking
out the very bag of corn chips I was going to ask for.
How. Does. He. Know?
When he returns to the couch with the bag of chips as well as a jar of
salsa tucked under his arm and two glasses of water in hand, he sets
everything down before settling back beside me.
“Chips and salsa?” I ask, belatedly realizing there’s no context to my
question. But Dan just shrugs, popping the top off the jar of salsa and
dunking a chip in before holding it out to me.
I lean forward and let him pop it into my mouth, relishing the way his
eyes grow a teeny-tiny bit darker when my lips lightly touch his fingers.
“You always want chips and salsa for a late-night snack. That or licorice.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes are bugging out of my head. He turns and gives
me a gentle smile, so at odds with the goofy, fun-loving man he normally is.
This smile, this version of him, is softer, more vulnerable. And I know,
without a doubt, I am one of the lucky few who get to see it.
“I think you know me better than anyone,” I say in a whisper, tentatively
reaching my hand across the couch to pick up his. My eyes cast down as I
clasp his fingers in mine, feeling his steady warmth. “And I’m really happy
I’m finally realizing that.”
Dan gives a slight tug and lifts his other arm up, beckoning me in. With a
happy sigh, I tuck in against his side. His lips land on the top of my head,
and I feel him press them lightly in a kiss.
It feels so good to just be held by someone in an affectionate embrace,
even though I know it won’t go any further. It makes me try to remember
the last time Baron held me like this, and I honestly can’t.
 At some point, I guess I drift off, I’m so damn comfortable and secure in
Dan’s arms. Because when my eyes flutter open, it’s because I’m being
lifted into the air, tucked against his chest.
“I’m sorry, I fell asleep,” I murmur, deciding not to protest him carrying
me and just enjoy it this once. I feel his low chuckle reverberate through his
chest, and my lips curve up in a smile.
He sets me down on my bed and pulls the blanket up to my chin. “Night,
Birdie. I’ll lock up.”
I don’t stop to think about what I’m suggesting when my hand darts out
and wraps around his wrist. “Stay?” That one word lands in the dimly lit
silence. It’s broken only by a sharp intake of breath before Dan answers.
“Are you sure?”
My tongue darts out to moisten my lips. I know nothing’s going to
happen. I trust him. Especially knowing he’s never had sex. Heck, I get a
secret thrill out of the idea of being his first some day. But not tonight.
“Yeah. I am. If you want to. Friends who cuddle, right?” I quip, trying to
inject some lightness.
It works as I hear him huff out a chuckle. “Okay. I’m gonna go brush my
teeth.”
He moves toward the bathroom and I throw off the blanket to join him,
my recent tiredness fading. Dan turns with a frown when he sees me behind
him.
“What was the point to me carrying you to bed?”
I smirk and step up beside him at my bathroom sink, opening a drawer
and handing him a new toothbrush. “It was very sweet and very chivalrous.
But if we’re having a sleepover, I don’t want to poison you with salsa
breath.”
I bump his hip with mine to break his stare, and he turns forward with a
grunt. We go through the motions of brushing our teeth, then he steps out to
give me privacy, and then I do the same. While he’s in there, I quickly
change into a very basic pair of pajama shorts and a T-shirt.
The bathroom door opens and Dan steps out, his gaze immediately
traveling up and down my body where I stand at the side of the bed.
“That’s my shirt.”
I glance down and realize it’s the one he gave me that night he took me
home from the bar. I toy with the hem and look at him. “Yeah. You want it
back?”
 His head moves slowly side to side. “Keep it. Looks better on you.”
My thighs clench together as another wave of pure want crashes over me.
I don’t know how much longer I can resist this sweet man.
He clears his throat and moves to the other side. “Are you okay with me
taking off my jeans?”
I nod silently.
Hell yeah, I’m okay with that. I’m more than okay. I’m flustered, hot all
over, and suddenly wishing I had a bigger bed.
No, a smaller one.
Gah. Maybe this was a mistake. I’m not sure I trust my unconscious self
to keep her hands off him.
Especially once he peels off his shirt and tugs his jeans down, leaving
him in nothing but a navy blue pair of boxers with…
“Are those wiener dogs?” I blurt out with a giggle. Dan glances down,
then back up, shrugging his shoulders with an impish smirk.
“I like wieners.”
An indelicate snort escapes me. “Okay, then.”
Dan peels back the blanket and slides into my bed, folding his arms
behind his head. He looks over at me, catching me staring at his delicious
upper body currently on display.
To my surprise, his cheeks darken with a blush. I quickly look away and
climb into bed, turning off the lamp.
The only light coming in is from the street outside. But despite the dark, I
can feel him close to me. Knowing there’s barely any space and even less
clothing separating us has me on edge, but in a good way.
“I’ve never shared a bed with anyone,” he says quietly, and I turn onto
my side, propping my head on my hand.
“As long as you don’t snore, we’ll be fine,” I say with a smile. Dan
snorts, rolling onto his side to face me.
“I do not snore.”
“How would you know if you’ve never slept with anyone?” I quip,
earning a scowl.
“I’ve shared hotel rooms with teammates and no one has ever
complained.”
I can’t help but smile at his haughty tone. “Good. Well, g’night.” I flip
over before I do something stupid like kiss his handsome, all too tempting
face.
 To my surprise, I manage to fall asleep fairly quickly. The next thing I’m
aware of is waking up while it’s still dark out, a heavy weight draped over
me. Blearily, I blink my eyes open, and it still takes a second to realize
what’s going on.
I’m in the same spot I was earlier, on my side, at the edge of the bed.
But Dan is no longer on his side of the bed.
He most definitely is not.
His hard body is wrapped around mine, his bare chest pressed against my
back, his arm holding me snug, and his head buried in my hair.
Sleep is pulling me back under. But before it overtakes me, I lift his hand
carefully to my lips and kiss his knuckles before tucking it back into place
against my chest.
Friends who snuggle is kind of amazing.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Sixteen

Monty
“I swear to fucking God, if you don’t stop whistling, I’m gonna tape your
goddamn mouth shut.”
I purse my lips in Mav’s direction and let out a trill. “You love me,
Maverick King, and you know it. Tell Sadie she needs to help you to lighten
up some more. Let us see that big, beautiful smile of yours.”
My teammate glowers. But that’s basically his normal face, so I take no
offense. Slapping him on the shoulder, I strut past him, taking my position
in front of the pitching machine. I nod at Sin, who’s manning the machine,
and the first ball comes flying at me.
CRACK.
“That’s how you do it, boys!” I crow, flipping my bat in the air before
taking my stance again. Another ball comes at me and I swing.
CRACK.
“Oh yeah, baby.” I give my backside a little wiggle, too high on life to
care how much of a fool I look. “More than just a pretty face with a good
butt.”
“I know it’s Monty, but don’t you think he’s a little extra today?” Ben
Wilson mutters from outside the cage.
I hear Maverick’s grunt just before connecting with another pitch. “Woo!
Watch and learn.”
 “Maybe he’s gettin’ laid,” Darling jeers from next to him, and goddamn
it, his comment makes me miss the next pitch. “Oh, damn! He is!”
I turn and glare at my teammates. “Would you please shut up? I’m trying
to focus.”
“And your fucking whistling was preventing the rest of us from doing
just that. Fair’s fair, Monty.” Maverick folds his arms across his chest with
a smirk.
I finish my round with the machine and exit the cage, frowning at each of
them in turn. “Just for that, I’m gonna sing next time. Any requests?”
Darling takes a ball I didn’t even realize he was holding and whips it at
me, and it’s only thanks to my finely honed catcher reflexes that it doesn’t
hit me in the head. Instead, it stings my bare hand.
The thing is, their teasing? It isn’t getting to me. Not at all. Because
nothing can touch me right now. The girl of my dreams is within reach. And
tomorrow, I’m taking her to my parents’ place. They’ve met a couple of
times, but only briefly and only in professional situations. Now, I get to
introduce her as my…something.
Maybe I gotta figure out what that is first. Friend? Almost girlfriend?
Future wife?
All of the above?
Yeah, I’m on top of the fucking world, and it’s only gonna get better as
Lark and I find our way together.
The guys and I wrap up our practice and head over to the diner next to the
stadium for some lunch. Pushing open the door to the fifties-style diner is
like pulling on your favourite pair of sweats. Comfortable and relaxed. The
vinyl booths are bright teal to match our team colours, there’s always oldies
music playing, and Maura, the owner, makes damn sure no one bothers us
when we’re eating there.
“Hey boys, want your usuals?” the woman in question says as she bustles
over with a tray of water.
“You’re an angel, Maura, thank you.” I give her my winningest smile. “If
some fries landed on my plate with that burger and salad, I wouldn’t be
mad.”
“You got it, honey.”
The rest of the guys confirm their orders, and she heads off to the kitchen.
“Okay, are we just not gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Sin
leans forward, folding his arms on the table in front of him.
 Darling chokes out a laugh as Mav rolls his eyes.
“What elephant?” I ask stupidly.
“You and Lark,” Sin says, his gaze bouncing between the other two guys.
“Willow said she broke up with what’s-his-fuck, so…”
“Oh shit, I was right? You are gettin’ some? And with Lark?” Darling sits
forward, his eyes wide. “Fuck yeah, brother! And to think I was jokin’.”
My head is whipping back and forth. “No guys, stop. I’m not sleeping
with Lark.”
“Why the fuck not?” Mav barks out. “You’re fucking in love with her.”
“Exactly!” I throw my hands up in exasperation. These guys don’t know
my secret, and I’m certainly not about to spill the beans right here and now.
But I know I have to explain myself somehow. “I care about her —” Mav
snorts, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine, I love her. And because of that,
I don’t want to rush things. She was with that guy for years. And only just
ended things. What kind of a dick move would it be to rush her into
something before she’s ready?”
“Look at you, bein’ all gentlemanly like,” Darling teases, punching my
arm. “I’m proud of you, Monty.”
I roll my eyes. “For what? Doing the bare minimum of being a decent
human being and respecting a woman?”
“Fair point.” He inclines his head toward me. “Well, we’re all rootin’ for
ya. Hopefully, our Lark sees the light and puts you out of your misery
soon.”
I’m saved by the arrival of our food, and the conversation drops off as we
all devour our meals. We make quick work of it, what with being
professional athletes who just worked our asses off in the gym and batting
cages. And then, everyone heads their separate ways. But I should have
known I wouldn’t get off that easy.
In the parking lot of the stadium, Sin follows me to my truck.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped back there, asking about Lark.”
I give him a small smile. “Nah, it’s fine. Everyone knows how I feel
about Lark. Everyone except Lark, it seems.”
His eyes widen. “She doesn’t know?”
“Oh, she does now,” I quickly clarify, then instantly feel my cheeks start
to heat up. “We, ahh, we’ve talked about it.”
Sin’s eyebrows raise as a smile breaks free. “Oh really. Talked about it,
hmm?”
 I unlock my truck and open the door. “Yeah. Talked. Okay, gotta go.
Bye.”
Getting in, I close the door and turn on the engine without looking out the
window. When I finally do lift my head, thankfully, Sin’s walking away.
Phew, dodged that bullet.
Now, to get through tomorrow without Mom embarrassing me.

“Seriously?” I groan as I walk into the living room and see Mom and Lark
pouring over an old photo album. “Baby pictures? Mom, come on.” My
voice takes on a slight whine, but this is exactly what I was afraid of.
It’s not the fact that Mom and Lark are getting along so well. I expected
that, Mom’s awesome and so is Lark. It was a given they’d love each other.
But I was really trying to avoid the naked bath time photos a little while
longer.
I set down the cups of coffee I just finished making and sit beside Lark,
leaning over to see exactly where they’re at in the mortification process.
“Oh great. My shining moment as a sunflower in the grade one class
play.”
Lark giggles. “You were an adorable sunflower.”
“Wait until you see his costume for Star Wars day the year he turned
eight. He wanted to be a Wookiee! I spent hours gluing fake fur onto a
brown sweater.”
I slump back against the couch with another groan. But Lark’s hand lands
on my thigh, squeezing it gently, and my gaze darts over to her.
“Well, Chewie was the best character, so I support his decision.”
Goddamn, she’s perfect for me.
My hand covers hers, but only for a second so Mom doesn’t see. Baby
photos are one thing. Meddling mothers are another. And from what I know,
Lark had enough of that with Baron’s mom to last a lifetime.
I listen to the two of them chatter on for a while longer, content to just be
here next to her. It’s familiar and yet so different all at the same time.
Because now, when her leg presses against mine, I don’t have to pull away.
And when she smiles at me, I can let myself believe it means something.
And when she and my mom laugh over some crazy photo of me as a kid, I
can imagine the future when she’s really mine.
 Eventually, they take a break from looking at photos, and my mom shows
Lark her quilting room, aka, my old bedroom. They’re gone for a while but
given my mom’s a fucking genius at making quilts, I’m not worried. I
wander downstairs to the store to check on my dad instead.
He’s just finished ringing up a customer, and I glance at the clock to see
it’s closing time. “Want some help shutting up shop?” I ask, already moving
to the front to get the signs from outside.
“Sure, son, thanks.”
We work in an easy silence for a while, going through the steps of
locking up. It’s only when we’re done, and heading back upstairs for dinner,
that I see him wince.
“You okay, old man?” I ask.
“Fine, fine. Just the sciatica,” he answers dismissively, and I know he’s
minimizing things, like always.
I keep my mouth shut. Now’s not the time to push. But someday soon,
I’m gonna sit my parents down and tell them they have to let me help.
Maybe once I secure my next contract, they’ll see I can take care of them
and be secure in my own future. And who knows. Maybe by then, Lark will
be by my side to help convince them.
A guy can always dream.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seventeen

Lark
The thing about working with professional athletes, in particular, male
professional athletes, is that you very quickly have to be okay with seeing
the nude or nearly nude male form.
I’m talking day one on the job, I walked into the locker room when my
supervisor was taking me on a tour of the stadium to find four of the players
in various stages of undress, walking out of the showers, laughing and
joking with each other.
They don’t care, and why should they? Their bodies are finely honed
machines. And to them, the training staff are just the medical professionals
whose job it is to keep those machines running in peak condition.
Once I got over the initial surprise that yes, I would be seeing bare butts
— and more — at my job, I didn’t let it bother me. Heck, I’ve had to treat
those bare butts on more than one occasion when glute muscles get
cramped or injured.
Besides, I was in a relationship, so ogling another man’s body felt wrong.
I maintained a strictly professional approach to my work.
But even so, there are moments when it stings a little, never being seen as
a woman, only ever as staff, or worse, as one of the guys.
“Mornin’ Lark,” Rhett Darlington says, strutting out of the showers with
a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped around his neck.
“How’s it goin’? You here for me?”
There’s a reason the team nicknamed him Darling. He says he can’t help
but be polite, because his mama raised him right. That, and his habit of
calling every single female he comes across, darlin. But somehow, when he
talks to me, there’s none of the flirtatious southern boy charm he’s famous
for. Just friendly, polite manners.
I nod, averting my eyes when he turns to his locker and pulls on a pair of
underwear. At least he does it before dropping the towel. “Yes. Time for
your yearly assessment.”
Every offseason we work our way through the active player roster and
run them through a full assessment. Not just for fitness, but overall physical
and mental health. It’s something the team owner, Mike Cartwright,
instituted years ago, making it clear he cared about his players, not just
during the season, but all the time. And not only as players, but as human
beings.
My job is to put them through part of the fitness evaluation. It’s simple
enough, an hour in the gym with some sensors strapped to their body to
measure heart rate, oxygenation, and a couple of other things. We spread
out the assessments, working around the guys’ schedules and offseason
plans. Another way Mr. Cartwright makes sure players know he values
them.
It’s things like this that inspired me to apply for the internship. If I can
contribute to the research, and maybe learn a few things to bring back to the
team, all the better.
Rhett pulls a shirt on, and I see he’s now wearing some athletic shorts. He
grabs a pair of shoes out of his locker and holds them up to sniff before
scrunching up his nose. “Damn, time for a new pair. Give these a whiff.” He
shoves the shoes in my face, and I recoil in horror.
“Why the hell would I want to smell your shoes, Rhett? That’s
disgusting.”
He just shrugs. “Eh, I dunno. Guess ya wouldn’t now, would ya?”
Kai and Ronan walk in just then, all sweaty from the gym. Ronan gives
me a nod and a smile, heading toward the showers. Kai, on the other hand,
starts to strip down right in front of me.
“Dude. You shoulda seen the bomber Sin hit off my curveball. Holy shit,
it was amazing, straight shot out to center field, homer for sure. It was a
thing of beauty.” He keeps yammering on as more clothes come off.
“Someday, Lark, I’m gonna get you in front of my balls. I bet you’d hit a
slammer.” He snorts, realizing what he just said as I turn bright red. “Shit,
that sounded bad. Sorry, Lark. You know I don’t mean it that way, right?”
Of course, he doesn’t, and while I know that’s because Kai’s a decent
guy, I guess I’m feeling sensitive or something, especially coming right
after Rhett and his gross shoes, because I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “Of
course, you don’t. Because I’m just one of the guys, right? Fine to joke and
tease with.”
I guess the guys hear the bite in my voice, because the locker room falls
silent.
“Everythin’ okay, darlin’?” Rhett says cautiously, and I close my eyes for
a second to gather myself. I don’t do this, get all sensitive and crap. It’s not
professional.
“Yep. Fine,” I say, the words sounding forced.
“Okay, because you know Yami’s harmless. He’s just bein’ an idiot.”
“Mm-hmm. I know. We should go get your assessment done.” I turn on
my heel and walk out of the locker room, not giving any of them a chance
to say anything else.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go. As soon as we’re in the gym,
empty of anyone but the two of us, he crosses his arms over his chest and
stares at me.
“Talk, woman.”
I pretend to be very much occupied with pulling up Rhett’s file on my
tablet, not meeting his gaze.
“Fine, you wanna do this the hard way? I’m gonna have to guess at
what’s eatin’ ya.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. In all the time I’ve worked for the
team, I’ve never once let it slip how it sometimes bothers me to be treated
like one of the guys. After all, shouldn’t I be happy sexism has no place on
the team? That I’m treated with professionalism and respect above all else?
But sometimes, a girl just wants to be seen as a girl, damn it. I see how
the guys treat Willow, still with respect but also charm and the occasional
flirty words. At least before Ronan showed up. Me? Nothing.
“I’m thinkin’ it had something to do with Yami being a dumbass. What I
can’t quite figure out is what he said that made you react. Especially since
he apologized for his ridiculous comment about his balls.”
 I whirl around, ready to lash out. “That’s just it. He was a dumbass
around me, you all are dumbasses around me. And that’s fine, because that’s
the way you are with each other, so why be any different around me? I can
handle the dumbass behaviour just like one of the guys, right? That’s what
he meant by his apology.” I bite out the last word, fully aware I sound like a
lunatic. But now that I’ve started, there’s no stopping the crazy train. “But
maybe it’s okay to say something dirty or flirty to me. Because I’m not one
of the guys, I’m a woman. A red-blooded woman, fully capable of handling
a baseball player making a flirty comment. But you guys don’t seem to
remember that I. Am. A. Woman, and while I want to be respected, I’d also
like to be seen as who I am, not just a buddy, or worse, a nobody. Which
means, stop shoving stinky shoes in my face, talking like dumbasses, or
dropping towels and waving your dicks around.”
When I finally stop ranting, Rhett stares at me, his mouth half open, arms
hanging by his sides. I heave out a sigh, and he lifts one hand to rub his jaw.
“Damn, Lark.” He shakes his head, those big brown eyes I’ve witnessed
make many a woman swoon filling with understanding and compassion. “I
hear ya. And I’m sorry we made you feel that way. Can I explain somethin’
that might help?”
I gesture over to the treadmill stiffly. “Only if you can do it while you
run.”
He gives me a smirk. “’Course I can.”
He doesn’t say anything more until he’s hooked up to the sensor, on the
machine, and at his warm-up pace. In those few moments, I run the gamut
of emotions, from mortification to vindication. I finally said my piece,
crazy as it may have sounded to him. And if he really does have an
explanation, I’ll listen.
“Alright, darlin’, you listenin’?” he says, turning his head slightly to me. I
nod, and he continues.
“Good. Here’s the thing, when I joined the team, you were already
workin’ here. And I was pulled aside by Pops and Gomez on my second or
third day and told a few things. Not just about you, but about every woman
who works here. Pops made it clear that Mike ran an organization that put
equality and respect first and foremost among players and staff. It was
drilled into me, and every player, that everyone from the trainin’ staff to the
janitors deserved as much respect as the players. Your job puts you in close
proximity to us every day. Hell, half the time, we’re near-to-naked around
you. Makin’ sure you and all your female colleagues felt comfortable was a
priority.”
He’s saying all the right things. Statements that women working in male
dominated fields dream of hearing. And yet…I feel like there’s more. That
feeling is confirmed after I increase his pace to begin his cardio fitness
assessment, nodding at him to continue.
“But with you, there’s a second reason.” He huffs out the words, and I
can’t lie, internally, I gloat a little at making him suffer through his workout
while he tries to explain things to me.
“And that is?” I say acerbically.
He gives me an incredulous look. “You really can’t figure it out?”
My brows draw together and I frown. “No, Rhett. If I could, do you think
I would have gone off on you like that?”
He chokes out a laugh. “Damn. I thought men were the oblivious ones.”
He sees my frown turn to a glare and holds up his hands. “Come on, Lark.
Just about every single person in this building knows that Monty is
obsessed with you and has been since day one. And we all love, and more
importantly, respect the guy, just as much as we love and respect you. This
part was never said out loud, but there’s been an unspoken rule in place to
never cross any lines with you, out of respect for his feelings. That meant
no flirting, nothin’.”
“Are you freaking serious?” I shriek, making him stumble. He recovers
quickly, of course, and continues running, shooting me nervous glances as I
start to pace in front of the treadmill. “You’re saying Dan Montgomery has
had feelings for me for years and everyone but me has known that, and that
is the reason you’ve all been treating me like one of the guys this entire
time?” I come to a stop, crossing my arms across my chest, and stare at
him. “That’s…that’s…ridiculous.”
Rhett lifts his eyebrows. “Is it?”
I deflate. “No,” I say quietly. “I…thank you. For explaining. And for,
well, yeah.”
He gives me a knowing smile. “You both deserve to be happy. And I
know we’re all rootin’ for team Mork.”
“W-what?” I splutter. “Absolutely not, no way.”
Rhett just laughs, and I know it’s a done deal. “Take it up with Monty. He
came up with it on the last night of spring training two years ago, after one
too many shots of tequila.”
 “Don’t worry, I’ll have words with him,” I grumble. “Can we finish this
damn assessment now?”
He gives an exaggerated groan and steps off the treadmill, onto the side
boards, as he punches down the speed. “Fuck, yeah. I hate runnin’.”
“Then you shouldn’t have become a baseball player,” I reply sarcastically
as we move over to the mats where I’ll be testing his strength and
flexibility.
Rhett turns his full force southern boy charm my way, and I can finally
confirm it’s just as potent as expected.
“But darlin’, if I didn’t play ball, I’d be back home in Tennessee, workin’
on the family ranch, and then you’d miss me.”
I roll my eyes at his cocky — yet true — statement. “Okay, okay. Let’s
get this over with so you can go and charm someone who cares.”
His hand goes to his chest, and Rhett tries to look wounded. “First, you
want me to flirt with you, then you deny me when I do? There’s just no
pleasin’ ya, Lark Miller.” He winks and my answering grin is automatic.
“You want to please me? Get going on your mobility assessment, and for
the love of God, never repeat that nickname for me and Dan again.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eighteen

Monty
“What do you mean, you’ve never cut down your own Christmas tree?”
Okay, fine, maybe I’m exaggerating the look of shock on my face just a
little, but really? How has she been deprived of this experience for so long?
Lark just shrugs, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the cheesy
decorations, the crackling fires, and everyone wandering around with smiles
on their faces and handsaws under their arms.
Fuck, I love Christmas tree farms.
“We always had artificial trees. Three of them. Mom didn’t want the mess
of a real tree.”
“The way you say that, so matter-of-fact, it makes me question your
sanity, Birdie. Like a few pine needles on the floor was a good enough
reason to never let your kid feel the joy of running through rows of
Christmas trees, the thrill of hunting for the perfect one, and experience the
flawless aroma of a fresh cut fir.”
If her eyes could roll any harder, I’m sure they would. “You’re the one
who’s insane, Dan. There’s nothing wrong with artificial trees.”
My hands clutch my chest. “You wound me.”
Lark ignores my antics, but she’s smiling. And that’s all I need. She lets
me take her hand and lead her toward the wooden stall where we check in
and get our dull handsaw. I take it in one hand from the young kid working.
There’s no chance in hell I’m letting go of Lark. Not when it feels like
fucking heaven just holding her hand.
It makes today feel like more than just two friends having fun together. It
makes it feel like…a date.
How long have I fantasized about simple moments like this? Honestly, it
probably makes me sound kinda creepy, imagining all the ways I wanted to
be with Lark. Except, thanks to my complete lack of experience, very few
of those ways were sexual. Most of them were things like this. Going
through life, having fun together, the way we did as friends but more.
And now that more is reality. Holy fucking shit.
I guess I’m squeezing her hand kinda tightly because Lark leans into me
with her shoulder. “Everything okay?”
I look down at her with a grin. “Everything is peachy keen, Birdie.”
She smiles back at me, and I start to loosen my grip, but then she tightens
hers. “Good.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
I want to shout it out to everyone around me. The girl of my dreams, the
only woman I’ve ever felt any sort of anything for is here with me. Holding
my hand. Making me feel like the king of the entire goddamn universe.
We wander through the trees, kids darting around us, hollering for their
parents. Lark hasn’t stopped smiling and my own cheeks are starting to hurt
because I haven’t, either. Then she pulls me to a stop.
“What about that one?”
I look to where she’s pointing. It’s a small tree, maybe six feet, but that’s
being generous. A little lopsided, since it’s still got its natural shape and
hasn’t been trimmed to perfection like most of the trees here. But when I
glance at Lark, her face is glowing with excitement, and I know I’ll do just
about anything to keep that look on her face.
“That one? It’s perfect.”
We walk over to it, and despite not wanting to let go of her hand, I do.
And just to play up the cheesy moment, I make a show out of walking all
the way around, examining the tree, and making random noises of approval.
Lark’s eyes are dancing, her hands clasped together as I come back to
stand in front of her.
“You ready, Birdie?”
“For what?”
I hold out the saw. “You’re doin’ it.”
 She takes it from me, holding it gingerly. “I’ve never done anything like
this, Dan.”
I can hear the nerves in her voice, so I crouch down, and beckon for her
to join me. Once she’s next to me, I wrap my arm around her, still kind of in
awe that I can do this. “I’ll help you get it started.”
Together, we place the saw against the trunk. Covering her hands with
mine, I exert enough pressure to show her how to move it back and forth,
and we slowly start cutting into the tree. It’s not a sensual action, not at all.
But being like this, wrapped around her, our bodies moving in unison, is
making me hard.
Guess I really am a fucking teenager again, getting hard at the slightest
breeze.
“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Lark comments, and I don’t
have the heart to tell her I could have done it in five seconds.
“But are you having fun?”
She nods, turning her head over her shoulder to smile at me. “So much
fun.”
I can’t help it, I lean in and peck a kiss to the tip of her nose, red from the
cold. Once again, I’m filled with so much goddamn wonder that I can do
shit like this.
Her cheeks, already pink, darken.
“Focus on the saw, Birdie,” I say roughly, my eyes not leaving hers,
despite my instruction.
“Kind of hard to do when you’re right there, looking so hot in that
toque.”
I chuckle. “That’s what does it for you? My toque? It’s the pom-pom,
isn’t it?”
Her giggle is adorable. Light and so damn happy. “Definitely the pom-
pom.”
I tilt my head toward the tree, where we’ve completely abandoned sawing
the trunk. “C’mon, let’s finish this, and then I’ll treat you to some hot
chocolate.”
That gorgeous smile of hers grows impossibly wider. “With
marshmallows?”
I lean back and pretend to be outraged. “Of course, with marshmallows.
How could you even ask that? What kind of monster would I be to get you
hot chocolate without marshmallows?”
 We turn our attention back to the tree, Lark seeming invigorated by the
promise of hot chocolate. A few minutes later, I hear the telltale creak that
we’ve cut most of the way through the trunk and pull Lark to stand. Then,
putting my hand on the tree, I give her a wink and push it just enough to
allow it to fall over.
She claps her hands in delight, and it’s so goddamn cute I might keel over
from it. “Alright, let’s get this beauty paid for and loaded up.” My voice is
rough, and I hope she doesn’t ask why. I’m not ready to tell her how
overwhelmed with happiness I am.
Once the tree is in the back of my truck, Lark automatically takes my
hand in hers again. And for the billionth time today, I feel my heart swell at
her easy affection. I’ve wanted this with her for so damn long, it feels like
I’m living a dream. We wander around the farm, standing by the bonfire for
a few minutes, sipping our hot chocolate.
But this place has one more surprise for Lark, and I can’t wait to show it
to her. Taking her empty hot chocolate cup, I toss it in the trash can and
gesture to the barn. “You have to see something before we go.”
She lets me lead her over to the large red building, and we step inside.
“Oh my God,” she half whispers, half squeals, dropping my hand and
darting over to the pen. “Look at them!”
We lean over and stare at the adorable baby goats wandering around the
pen.
“These babies were just born a week ago. We named them after Santa’s
reindeer.” Someone wearing a hoodie with the farm’s logo on it comes over
and opens the latch on the pen. “Have you ever cuddled a baby goat?”
Lark’s mouth falls open. “No.”
I nudge her with my hip. “Go on, Birdie.”
She stumbles into the pen after the farm worker and holds out her arms as
they place a brown and white baby goat in her embrace. Turning slowly, she
gives me a tremulous smile, her eyes shining with joy. “Dan. I’m holding a
baby goat,” she whispers.
I lift my phone up and snap a few photos before answering. “Lucky
goat.”
She giggles and brings the goat closer so I can give its head a scratch.
“This is the most amazing day ever.”
Yep, that fills me with pride. I might have no dating experience, but that
doesn’t matter as long as I can make one woman happy. This woman.
 After a few more minutes, Lark sets the baby down and leaves the pen.
We wander around looking at the other animals — bunnies, pigs, chickens,
and sheep. And at the very end, in a large indoor paddock, stands a massive
horse.
“Holy crap.”
“He used to pull the carriages around Stanley Park,” I tell her, familiar
with the horse’s history from years of coming here with my parents. “The
farm bought him when he retired, to let him live out his years being loved
on by everyone who comes to visit.”
Lark reaches out her hand and strokes the long nose of the giant who has
ambled over to greet us.
“He’s gorgeous.”
It does something to me, seeing Lark fall in love with the place I’ve come
to for so long with my family. My memories of coming here are nothing but
happy, and if I can give her that, then my work here is done.
When the horse wanders off to greet some kids who have approached his
paddock, we take that as our cue to leave. The water at the handwashing
station outside the barn is freezing cold, and after using it, Lark starts to rub
her hands together to try and warm them up.
I lead her over to one of the bonfires and take her hands in mine. “Let
me.” I rub them briskly. Lark steps in close, her body almost touching mine.
She pulls our hands into her chest and rises up on her toes.
“Thank you, Dan.”
That’s all she says before her lips land on mine. Tasting faintly of hot
chocolate, and a sweetness that is all her own, Lark Miller kisses me.
I release her hands so I can cup the back of her neck, holding her to me as
I take a chance, teasing her lips with my tongue. Conscious of the fact that
there are a lot of kids around, and the fact that I don’t really know what I’m
doing, I keep it light, taking things only slightly deeper. But the feel of her
body pressed against me, her soft lips under mine, the fucking magic of this
entire day has my dick starting to harden, yet again. And I know she feels it
when she pulls her head back and gives me a coy smile.
She opens her mouth to say something just as a big white snowflake lands
on her nose.
“Oh my God, it’s snowing,” she says, casting her gaze upward in delight.
She might be staring at the snow starting to fall, but I can’t stop staring at
her.
 And when her head tilts back down, and she beams that smile my way, I
know there will never be another woman for me.
Lark is my lobster. My swan. My penguin.
I lean down and kiss her again as snow falls around us. And the only
reason I manage to eventually tear myself away from her is the knowledge
that this isn’t a dream, and there will be more chances to kiss her.
That and the fact that my toes are going numb.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nineteen

Lark
If everyone in the world could see Dan Montgomery dancing around his
living room, Christmas music playing as he drapes lights across his mantle,
they would fall even more in love with him than they are already.
He’s known as the golden boy of the team. Always smiling, always
having a good time. But that happiness feels dialed up to a thousand today,
and I feel like the luckiest woman on earth to get to see it.
“Can you hand me that garland, Birdie?” he calls out over his shoulder as
I carry two plates laden with sushi, Dan’s favourite light saber chopsticks
pinched between my fingers. I’m starving, and can’t wait to dig in, so I
have to pause a second to think about what he’s asking for.
It’s not only the food distracting me. It’s also the gorgeous man in a
ridiculously cheesy sweater with Yoda wearing a Santa hat and the words
“The Season, Jolly It Is” on it. The man who hasn’t stopped smiling, except
when he’s singing along to the music or when he’s kissing me.
He hasn’t stopped kissing me.
Just short little pecks, each one sweet and chaste, and each one leaving
his face full of such amazement, as if he can’t quite believe it’s happening.
I know the feeling.
Part of me keeps thinking this can’t be real. I can’t actually be here, with
my friend Dan, decorating his place for Christmas. I should be with Baron
at some stuffy office party somewhere, or worse, I should be home, bored
and lonely. But I am here. With a man I can’t stop smiling around. Who
seems so dang happy to just be with me.
It feels a little crazy, a little too good to be true. And if it were anyone
other than Dan, I would definitely be questioning my hold on reality.
But it is Dan. I know him, probably better than most people in my life,
Baron included. I know what he eats on his pizza and that he’s terrified of
lizards. I know he thinks the Ewoks are the most underrated characters in
the entire Star Wars franchise. I know he has two pairs of lucky socks, one
for home games and one for away games. I know his parents are the most
important people in his life, and that everything he does is for them. I know
he’s the best man I have ever met, with a heart of gold as big as the Pacific
Ocean.
And now I know he likes me. Really likes me. Maybe even more than
likes me. He doesn’t want me to be anything other than what I am, doesn’t
see me as just a friend or one of the guys. He doesn’t want me to change, to
act differently, or be someone I’m not.
He wants me. And he’s never wanted anyone that way before.
If this is a too-good-to-be-true dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.
Setting the plates and chopsticks down, I pick up the green garland and
carry it over to him. He takes it, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Thanks.
Go ahead and start eating, I just wanna get this up.”
I ignore him, instead taking the other end of the garland and working to
fasten it to the hooks he attached to the mantle earlier. “We’ll finish this,
then eat.”
The happy smile he unleashes warms me on the inside. We make quick
work of finishing the garland and then sit down next to each other on the
couch with our dinner. He sits right next to me, our thighs touching. It’s the
little things like this that tell me just how much things have shifted in our
relationship. A month ago, we would have been at opposite ends of the
couch. Still comfortable, still having a good time together, but with a
necessary distance. Dan was never anything but respectful of my
relationship with Baron, keeping things strictly platonic. And I had no clue
how hard that must have been, being close to me as a friend but not allowed
to even consider anything more.
It makes me fall for him a little harder, thinking about how he set aside
his feelings, never breathing a word of them to me out of consideration. It
also makes my heart break just a bit, thinking about the wasted years, the
time we could have been together, if only I had wised up sooner to how
unhappy I was.
“Everything okay? You haven’t tried your food.” Dan’s knee nudges mine
and I startle back to reality.
“Yeah, fine. Sorry, just thinking about things.”
He sets his plate down and turns his body toward me. “About what?”
I study him for a second, taking in how genuinely interested he is in
listening to me. How much he truly wants to know my thoughts, my
feelings, my opinions.
It’s a unique experience. Which is a very sad realization to have.
“I wish I hadn’t wasted so much time with Baron, trying to convince
myself I was happy.”
Dan’s face shows his confusion for a couple of seconds before he grasps
what I mean. Then he takes my plate, setting it down beside his, before
gathering my hands and lifting them to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
“Don’t think of it that way, Birdie. That wasn’t wasted time. That was
necessary for you, for us, to figure out exactly what we wanted. Who we
are. Besides, there’s no good to be found in looking back. Only forward.”
I slowly shake my head from side to side. “How did you get so wise?”
His shoulders lift in a bashful shrug. “My dad. He’s always got some
random phrase that works for any situation.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Well, I’ll have to thank him for raising such
a smart man.”
Dan turns his face slightly and places a light kiss on my lips. Not satisfied
with that, I tug my hands free and run them through his hair, holding his
face close to mine so I can kiss him again, deeper.
He lets out a low groan, and his strong arms band around my body,
pulling me into his lap. We haven’t gone further than kissing yet, but God,
do I want to. I don’t want to rush him, however. Knowing he’s never done
this with anyone makes me acutely aware of every move I make.
And makes me wonder if I’ll have to be the one to move things along…
Deciding to test that theory, I bring one hand between us and push on his
chest. He takes the hint, falling backward on the couch until I’m stretched
out on top of him. We’ve never been in this position with each other.
Ever.
 I can feel every line of muscle bunching and tensing under me. I can feel
the hard ridge of his cock between my legs. I can feel his hands tentatively
roaming across my back. And I can feel his heart racing beneath my chest.
Feeling bold, and more than a little horny, I press my pelvis to his,
grinding slightly against him.
He groans. “Jesus, Lark.”
I hum in response, trailing kisses down the scruff of his jaw and neck. My
hands start to move, and I drag my fingers lightly up and down the side of
his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt before lifting myself up enough to
look at his face.
He’s turned on. That’s obvious. But is he nervous? Is this too fast? I’m
suddenly filled with hesitation, unsure of what to do.
Dan doesn’t seem to feel that same hesitation. He reads my mind,
replacing my hands with his and whipping his shirt off.
I’ve seen the man shirtless many times before.
But I’ve never had him laid out underneath me quite like this.
His thumb grazes my lip, and my gaze flies to his. He smirks. “You had a
little bit of drool there, Birdie.”
I slap at his chest indignantly. “I did not.”
His chuckle vibrates through him and I struggle not to be too obvious
while clenching my thighs together.
“Can we make this even or do you get to be the only one who can ogle.”
My eyes widen. “I…”
Once again, Dan somehow knows what I’m thinking before I even really
do.
“Just because I haven’t had sex before doesn’t mean I haven’t thought
about all the things I want to do to you, Lark. I’ve thought about getting you
naked, running my hands over your curves, and discovering every inch of
you with my tongue. I know we’re taking it slow, but I just want to feel
your skin against mine.”
Oh, come on. I didn’t know words could make me melt, but I’m pretty
sure I am no longer a human, and am instead a pile of goo.
“That’s the sweetest dirty talk I’ve ever heard, Dan Montgomery,” I tease
as I sit up and slowly inch my sweater off. When I finally pull it over my
head and meet his gaze, the fire burning in his brown eyes takes my breath
away. He slowly sweeps his eyes up and down my body before lifting his
hands and placing them on my hips. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips
and he glances up at me.
“Can I…”
I shiver at that loaded question. And even though he doesn’t specify, I
know I would let this man do absolutely anything to me. My head moves up
and down. I don’t need to know what he wants to do, because I want it all.
Slowly, he slides his hands up my rib cage, drawing them in until his
thumbs are dragging along the underside of my bra. His stare never falters,
his focus intense.
Something dawns on me. A small clarification that doesn’t matter but has
me curious. “You said you’ve never had sex but have you ever…done
anything with a woman?”
I watch his throat move as he swallows, and some of that heat in his eyes
dies. I instantly want to take back my question and restore his desire. But
before I can try to salvage it, he answers.
“Before you showed up at my apartment, I had kissed just one woman
other than my mom. And that was only because of a dare in eighth grade.
I’ve gone on a few dates, but never done any more than a kiss on the cheek.
I’ve never been intimate with anyone before you, Lark. I want to say I’m
sorry for that, because it means I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. But
I can’t be too sorry, because I know no one would have ever come close to
making me feel what you do with nothing more than your hands on my
body and your lips on mine.”
I stare down at him, at the honest, vulnerable, beautiful man beneath me.
How the hell did I get so lucky to be with him?
I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, sliding it off my shoulders as
Dan’s eyes widen.
“What are you doing?” he says, his voice raspy.
I toss my bra to the side, leaving me as bare as he is. “You said I
shouldn’t be the only one allowed to ogle,” I say impishly, leaning forward
so my small breasts brush his skin. “And you wanted to feel your skin on
mine.”
One large hand tangles in my hair while the other comes to the middle of
my back, holding me against him as he attacks my mouth. There might not
be any finesse, but what he lacks in experience, Dan makes up for with
enthusiasm and passion.
 We’re pressed together, the heat building between us. Dan’s hips start to
move under mine in jerky movements, a sort of thrusting and grinding
combined.
Pushing up on his chest, I take his hands and lift them to my breasts. His
hips still as I look down at him.
“Follow my lead,” I say, then slowly, I start to roll my hips, swiveling
around on him. For a moment, he’s frozen, his eyes staring at his hands that
are now covering my breasts. But for a guy with no experience, he catches
on fast. When he squeezes me, I nod, encouraging him. He pinches my
nipples and I can’t hold back my moan. Cautiously, he starts to move
beneath me, much smoother this time, picking up the rhythm.
“Oh God,” I gasp as his dick rubs against me. Even through layers of
clothing, I’m so turned on by him, by everything, that I realize with some
surprise, I’m close to coming.
“Keep going,” I moan, my eyes fluttering closed. I cover Dan’s hands
with mine, showing him how to twist and pluck at my nipples the way I do
when I’m playing with myself.
Again, he proves to be a quick learner, and I bring my hands to his chest,
leaning forward so I can rock back and forth along him, rubbing my clit,
listening to his pants and grunts and echoing them with my own sounds of
pleasure.
“Shit, Lark,” he grinds out, dropping his grip down to my hips, holding
me in place. He grunts, driving his hips up. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” Once, twice,
three more times he grunts and thrusts before I feel him shudder through his
release.
Mine is right there, but I don’t actually care about it anymore as I look
down at him, his eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and pure ecstasy written
across his face. I trace my fingers along his cheek, marveling at how right it
feels to be with him this way.
But his eyes flutter open, and they’re filled with determination.
“Teach me how to get you off, Birdie.”
I’m moving before I can respond as he flips our positions. Once he’s
stretched out on the deep couch beside me, he rests his palm on my
stomach, his other arm propping up his head.
“I want to make you come.”
I nod vigorously. I want that, too. Very much. I take his hand and slide it
down my body, dipping below the waist of my leggings. His fingers graze
the dampness between my legs and his eyes grow dark. “Damn. Is that…is
that because of me?”
A giggle escapes me. “Is there another deliciously sexy baseball player
charming me with dirty sweet talk?”
He growls, bending down and kissing me before tugging my lower lip
between his teeth. “There better not be.”
His fingers dip in and out, lightly circling, teasing. My hips start to shift
as I fight not to grab his hand and put it exactly where I want him. If he
wants to explore, who am I to say no?
But all too soon, that teasing becomes too much to bear.
“My clit, please,” I beg, my back arching as I clutch at his arms. “Your
hand, anything. Please.”
All I can do is hope he can figure it out, because I’m too close to give
him any more instruction than that. He fumbles at first, but then he proves,
yet again, that he’s very in tune with me and my body. Because after a
couple of minutes, I’m keening and crying out his name as the sweetest
orgasm washes through my body.
When I drift back to reality and drag open my eyes, he’s looking down at
me with such wonder and amazement. I cup his cheek and smile. “That was
incredible.”
Slowly, he pulls his hand free and brings it in front of him. His fingers are
shiny with my release, and I flush at the sight of it.
I don’t know what I expect him to do, but it certainly isn’t to lift it to his
mouth and lick off the moisture.
“Delicious,” he says in a low voice. “Next time you need to teach me
how to make that happen with my mouth so I can taste your sweetness.”
“Oh,” I gasp as he sucks another finger clean. “Well, um, okay. If you
insist,” I stammer, feeling another wave of heat wash over me.
Dan looks down at me with a wicked smirk that promises all kinds of
pleasure.
“Oh, I very much insist, Birdie. I’m gonna want to see you let go like that
again, and again, and again.”
He pulls me up to sit, and tugs his shirt over my head, before picking up
his lightsaber chopsticks, still glowing red from when he turned on the LED
lights earlier. He lifts a piece of sashimi and holds it to my mouth.
“Eat.”
 I chew and swallow before answering. “That was your dinner. Aren’t you
hungry?”
“Oh, I am. But not for sushi.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty

Lark
As I stare around the disaster formerly known as my kitchen, my mood
drops lower and lower. What the heck was I thinking, agreeing to bake eight
dozen cookies for the Tridents’ staff holiday party?
When Candice, the administrator in charge of the party, called me in a
panic saying their vendor fell through and she needed cookies at the last
minute for the staff party tomorrow, I should have said no.
But everyone knows I love to bake, seeing as I often bring in extra to share.
And Candice was so stressed about the kids not having cookies, who was I to
deny children their treats?
So I said yes.
And now, less than twelve hours later, my kitchen is covered in flour and
sugar, and my overwhelm is at an all-time high. I foolishly thought I could
get this done and still go with Dan to the Christmas market tonight, but
there’s not a chance of that happening.
Lifting my now-cold coffee to my lips, I take a sip and grimace. I hate
having to cancel, but I don’t have a choice.
Pulling out my phone, I open our text thread.
 LARK: I’m so sorry to do this, but I can’t go to the market. I’ve
got a million cookies to bake for the staff party tomorrow, and
there’s no way I’ll finish in time. Especially not since I
discovered I’m out of kisses.
I drop the phone back on the counter and pick up my recipes, wanting to
double-check I’m not missing anything else. When I went to the store last
night, I was certain my list was accurate, and I could get started bright and
early today. Instead, I pulled everything out this morning only to realize I was
missing the key ingredient for my Grinch Kiss cookies.
Finally satisfied I only need the one thing, I pick up my phone and head to
the front door just as it vibrates in my hand.
DAN: Don’t apologize, it’s all good. Except for the out of kisses
part. That’s unacceptable. I’ll be there as soon as I can to rectify
the situation.

His response makes me smile, breaking through the stress of my morning.

LARK: You’re sweet, but you don’t have to come. I meant
chocolate kisses. ;)

DAN: Who says I can’t bring you both?

DAN: I’m on my way.

Sure enough, half an hour later, there’s a knock at my door. I turn off the
mixer where I’ve started working on the peanut butter dough and dust off my
hands before going to open it.
There’s no way to prepare for what awaits me. I burst out laughing as I take
in the sight of Dan wearing a Santa hat and an elf costume apron. He’s
holding a cloth bag in one hand, and in the other…
“Is that for me?” I ask delightedly. He grins and drapes the matching apron
over my head.
“Sure is.”
I tie the red strings behind my back and model the apron for him.
“Cutest elf I’ve ever seen,” he says, leaning in and kissing me softly.
“There. You’re officially no longer out of kisses.” He kisses me again, then
holds up the bag. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I bought them
all.”
My eyes widen when I take the surprisingly heavy bag. Opening it, I see a
lot of packages.
“Oh my God.”
Dan takes the bag from me and heads into the kitchen. I trail after him,
finding him at the sink, washing his hands.
“Wanna turn on some tunes? Let’s get baking.”
His easygoing nature is such a welcome balm from the stress I was feeling
just an hour ago. And so at odds with what I had grown used to with Baron
and his family. Heaven forbid I change or cancel plans or need assistance of
any kind. No, I needed to be independent, yet accommodating, all the time.
Being with someone who cares about me and doesn’t make me feel like a
burden when something comes up or I dare to have an opinion that goes
against theirs is a refreshing change.
Dan looks over, catching me in my mental reflection.
“Everything okay?” He moves toward me, his hands coming to either side,
resting on the counter at my back. I’m caged between his arms, and my own
hands automatically lift to his shoulders before sliding around to toy with the
hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes flutter closed, a small smile of pure
delight creasing his features.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” I reply softly, leaning in to kiss the scruff on his
jaw. “I was just thinking about how different it is with you than it was with
Baron.”
His eyes open, flooding with concern. “Different in a good way, I hope?”
A laugh breaks free. “Oh my God, yes. So good, I promise.” I kiss his lips,
once, twice, three times before continuing. “You make me happy. You care
about me, just as I am. And you don’t make me feel bad for anything.”
The concern turns into something darker, and I draw back slightly, impeded
by the counter behind me. But Dan’s anger isn’t directed at me. I know this
instinctively.
“I’m sorry, Birdie. If I had realized how unhappy you were, I never would
have kept quiet. Fuck. I know I’m the one who said we need to look forward,
not back, but hearing you say stuff like that makes me so angry at myself for
not fighting for you.”
I fling my arms back around his neck and squeeze him tight. It’s still not
enough, and obviously he feels the same way because his hands come to my
ass, lifting me onto the counter. My legs wrap around him, and we’re as close
as possible, and something in me settles with a happy sigh.
We stay like this, me wrapped around him, our breathing synchronized, for
several moments. It feels so good, so right, being with him. As much as we
both know we can’t dwell on the time we lost, it’s hard not to feel frustrated
that we could have felt this happiness so much sooner, if only…
If only I hadn’t been so consumed with doing what I thought I should,
trying to be who my family wanted me to be, and settling for so much less
than I deserved.
After a while, Dan’s hold on me loosens. “Should we get those cookies
baked?” he asks.
I nod, and when he steps back, I hop off the counter. “Okay. The dough is
almost ready to be coloured green, then we just have to roll them into a ball
and press the kisses on top.”
Dan goes to the bag he brought and pulls out several packages of chocolate.
“Which ones should we use?”
I point to the red and white striped ones, and he gets to work opening all
the chocolate. For a while, we work together in silence, having forgotten
about putting on any music. I already feel less stressed about the job at hand,
simply having him with me. Between the two of us, I know we’ll get all the
cookies made and packaged in time.
Sure enough, several hours later, the kitchen is even more of a mess than it
was this morning, but Dan is pulling the final tray of cookies out of the oven.
He sets it down on the counter with a flourish before walking over to me with
his hands in the air.
“Go, Team Cookie!”
I slap my hands against his, only for him to lace our fingers together and
pull me in for a kiss. I let him because no way am I saying no to a kiss, but I
wrinkle my nose when we separate. “I’m covered in flour.”
He lets out a deep chuckle, looking down at his own dirty apron with a
smile. “Yeah, same. Guess I should have brought some extra clothes.”
A little devil and angel appear on my shoulders as I consider my options.
Do I say what I’m thinking, or not…
The devil wins.
“We could put your clothes in the laundry here.”
Dan gives me a confused look, and his innocence is so adorable I struggle
to keep a straight face. “I don’t have anything else…” He trails off, his eyes
widening as comprehension dawns.
 I step forward, slowly sliding my hands around his waist to untie his apron.
“We don’t have to do anything. I’m sure your underwear isn’t covered in
flour.” With a wink, I lift the apron over his head and let it slip to the floor.
“Washing your clothes feels like the least I could do to thank you for your
help.”
I pull his T-shirt up, and he lifts his arms automatically, letting me remove
it, baring his upper body.
“Or there are other ways I could thank you.” My hands go to his belt and
pause. “If you want.”
His head bobs up and down eagerly as I slip his belt free of the buckle.
“Lark,” he groans, dropping his forehead to mine. “I’m scared I’m gonna
embarrass myself.”
The quiet statement is full of so much vulnerability, I freeze, moving my
hands up to his chest before wrapping them around his body so I can hug him
close. His arms squeeze me tightly, and his heart races beneath my ear.
“Please don’t feel like that,” I whisper. “You have no reason to be
embarrassed. We go at your pace. I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice turns rough. “Me being embarrassed has
nothing to do with us moving too quickly and everything to do with how
desperately I want you.”
I barely get out my gasp before his lips are crushed to mine, his hands
moving to grip my hair tightly as he plunders my mouth. His confidence in
kissing me has grown rapidly, and he takes control, infusing our kiss with all
of his built-up desire.
Which only makes that devil on my shoulder even louder. As much as I
don’t want to end our kiss, I do. Because something better awaits. And then I
take his hand and lead him down the hall to my bedroom. He lets me push
him to sit on the edge of the bed, and then I take a step back. I untie my own
apron and take it off before lifting my sweater over my head.
His hands fist at his sides, his eyes not leaving me as I slowly wriggle my
leggings down, kicking them off to the side along with my socks. Watching
him devour me with his gaze, I’m incredibly glad I put on a cute set of blue
panties and a matching bra this morning.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I beam at him, closing the distance, stepping in between his legs. “So are
you, Dan.” I slide my fingers through his hair, tipping his head back so I can
kiss him. “You’re a beautiful man, inside and out. I wouldn’t change a thing
about you.”
 His head falls forward, landing on my chest as his arms wrap around me
again. This man loves his hugs. “How do you know just what to say?”
I bend down and kiss his head, inhaling the fresh scent of his shampoo.
“The same way you do. I know you, and you know me. It’s that simple.”
“It’s that incredible.”
I smile against his hair, feeling his lips press against my skin. But when his
hands start to travel, I draw back. “This is meant to be me thanking you for
your help.”
His pout is adorable, but I don’t give in. Dropping to my knees, I raise my
eyebrows as my hands land on the waist of his jeans. “Lift.”
“Oh. What? You don’t have to…” He stammers out, even as he lifts his hips
so I can tug his jeans down.
“Trust me, I know I don’t have to. But I really want to, if you do.” He nods
quickly, and that’s all I need to see. I toss his jeans behind me and run my
hands up his muscled thighs. The large outline of his cock pressing against
his boxer briefs has me licking my lips, even as I want to giggle at the
bananas that are printed on his underwear.
“Bananas?” I ask, giving him a grin.
“I like fun underwear. Wasn’t expecting anyone to see them today, I must
admit.”
“I like them, too. But I want to take them off. Can I do that?”
He chokes out a laugh. “Let me make one thing clear. You can do whatever
the fuck you want with me. I want it all, Birdie. Every fucking thing. I might
be terrified I’ll make a fool of myself, but that’s not enough to stop me from
taking anything you’ll give me. I feel as if I’ve waited a lifetime for this. For
you.”
I surge up to my knees and kiss him, surprising him at first but he recovers
quickly, holding me in place as I pour everything I can into the kiss, trying to
tell him without words just how much it means to me that he wants this. With
me. And only me.
Settling back on my knees, I slowly tug his boxers down his legs, trying not
to be too eager when his dick pops free. But dang, it’s beautiful. Long and not
too thick, already shiny with a drop of precum at the tip.
I force myself to look up at his face, not wanting to miss a second of his
reaction. When I slowly wrap my hand around the base, his eyes close and he
lets out a small groan. I slowly drag my hand up and back down, fully aware
that with no moisture to lubricate the movement, the friction might be too
much for him.
 But apparently not. His eyes fly open, burning with intensity now. His
hands are gripping fistfuls of my blanket, and his shoulders are heaving with
every breath.
Tilting my head down, I circle his tip with my tongue.
“Lark,” he breathes, that one word a benediction. And all the
encouragement I need.
Opening wider, I slip my mouth around him
“Holy shit,” he curses.
I look up and see him still staring at me. Slowly, I start to bob up and down,
applying some light suction, and moving my hand in time with my mouth.
His musky taste isn’t so bad, and I find myself actually enjoying the act.
Knowing I’m bringing him pleasure he’s never experienced before makes this
less of a chore, like it used to feel in the past, and more of a privilege.
“Birdie,” he gasps, one hand moving to my shoulder. “Holy shit, I’m
gonna…I’m gonna come. Oh my God.”
I don’t have time to decide what I want to do, much less think about what
he might want, before warm jets of come are hitting the back of my throat. I
quickly swallow, not stopping until I feel him shudder, and the tense muscles
of his legs relax around me.
Only then do I draw back, releasing him from my mouth. Strong hands are
under my arms, lifting me up and onto the bed where Dan cuddles me against
his chest.
“That was… Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.” He lifts his head. “Was
that okay? Are you okay?”
I kiss him lightly. “I’m more than okay. Thank you for your help with the
cookies and for letting me do that.”
His head flops back down as he laughs again. “Woman, I will do just about
anything for you. And I’ll do it all twice if you do that again sometime.”
I burst into giggles as well and nuzzle into his chest. “Deal.”
“But first, you have to teach me how to do that to you.”
“Well, if I must.”

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 Chapter Twenty-One

Monty
“I can’t believe you turned down Barbados for this.” I peer out the
windshield at the slushy rain pouring down. But even the dreary weather
can’t fully get me down. No, my hands are holding the steering wheel
tightly, partly to keep us safe but also so I don’t get distracted by wanting to
touch Lark. I don’t dare even look at her or the excitement bubbling inside
of me might spill over.
It’s Christmas Eve and we’re driving out to my parents’ place. I love the
holidays, always have. What’s not to love about Christmas jammies,
spending time with your family, and eating your body weight in cookies?
And getting to do all of that with Lark by my side? Holy shit, I might
explode from happiness. But even knowing how weird and toxic her family
can be, there’s a part of me that wonders if she’s going to feel like she
missed out on something by not being with them over Christmas.
“Trust me, Dan. I’m not missing anything or anyone I truly care about.
My parents haven’t done Christmas in Vancouver in years and being stuck
somewhere with them? No thanks.”
“What did you do last year?” I ask with some curiosity. We’ve never
discussed holiday plans; I always just assumed she was with Baron or her
parents.
 She huffs. “Spent it at the Hazelwood museum with Baron and his
family.”
My eyebrows raise at her words. “Museum?”
“That’s what I call their house in my head. Imagine the most imposing,
formal building, and then call it a home.” Another forced laugh. “So, yeah,
even with the rain, I’d much rather be here with you.” She gives me a warm
look, and her hand lands on the back of my neck, toying with the hair that
sticks out from underneath my ball cap. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to
these small touches, the affection that comes so easily after so many years
of just dreaming of it.
God, I sound like a fucking putz, and I love it.
Lark shifts in her seat, twisting to get something out of the back, and of
course, the second I look over, my eyes go straight to the gap in her shirt,
giving me a clear view straight at those perfect tits.
Tits that I, apparently, am now free to look at and even touch. Fuck, that’s
weird to think about. And getting a boner while I’m driving down the
highway is not something I ever expected to deal with.
This is why I kept my feelings for her repressed for all those years…
She settles back into her seat, now with a bag of chocolate kisses in hand.
One of the many leftovers from our baking day last week, seeing as I kind
of went overboard at the store. Did I empty the entire shelf of kisses into
my basket? Maybe. But I didn’t want to disappoint her by bringing the
wrong ones or not enough.
Besides, is there such a thing as too much chocolate? I think not.
Lark unwraps one and holds it up to my mouth. Sweetness bursts on my
tongue from the creamy chocolate, but it’s when I glance over and see her
looking at me with a soft, open expression that I melt, just like the damn
chocolate.
Is this real life?
And if it is, how the hell do I make sure I don’t fuck it all up?
My inhale almost sends the chocolate kiss down my throat, which would
be really bad as we speed toward my parents’ place. Coughing lightly, I
recover. Another quick glance and I see she’s looking out her window at the
farmland we’re passing through.
I want to touch her. No, I want her to touch me. To play with my hair like
she was before. But I’m pretty sure it would be weird if I asked her to do
that. Which means I’m gonna have to initiate something. Hoo boy.
 I slowly unclench my right hand from the steering wheel and flex my
fingers a couple of times. Then I set it on the center console between us.
Maybe she’ll get the hint and take over?
Nope. She’s still staring out the window. Okay, Monty, you can fucking
do this. You’ve touched her a hundred times before. Hell, she had her mouth
on your dick a few days ago. Resting your hand on her leg is no big fucking
deal.
Except, it really is. Because the feelings I have for this woman are like
nothing else. And finally being free to express those feelings, to act on
them, has me all kinds of fucked up — mostly in a good way, but with a
healthy layer of anxiety on top.
I want to be good for her. I want to be everything she deserves. And I’m
terrified I won’t be.
Taking a deep breath, I move my hand over and place it on her thigh. Her
head doesn’t move, but she covers my hand with hers and squeezes gently.
And I exhale.

Waking up in the middle of the night in the spare bedroom — the one not
taken over by my mom’s quilting supplies — at my parents’ house, with
Lark draped over my bare torso, is a very odd experience.
Not a bad one, just…not one I ever really thought I’d have. Honestly? It’s
not even something I let myself imagine. Partly because it always felt out of
reach and partly because being in bed with the woman of my dreams with
my parents right down the hall isn’t exactly the most romantic concept.
I’m pretty sure you could see my cheeks turn red all the way from the
fucking moon when Mom casually said the two of us would be staying in
one bedroom together.
But when Lark nuzzles into my chest, letting out a contended hum, I tell
my overthinking brain to shut the fuck up and let me enjoy this Christmas
miracle.
I guess I drift back to sleep because the next thing I’m aware of is
something rubbing against my dick, making it uncomfortably hard. My eyes
blink open, and I look down to see Lark shifting against me. Her eyes are
closed, but it’s hard to tell if she’s asleep or not. When she makes a cute
little mumbling sound, it becomes clear she’s not awake. Which means her
rubbing against me is not a conscious choice.
I stifle my groan when her bare thigh presses down on my dick. It hurts,
but in a good way. And if I don’t want to embarrass myself and have to do
laundry later, unfortunately, I need to extricate myself from the situation.
But when I go to move out from underneath her, Lark’s hold on me
tightens and she lets out a small whimper.
Well, fuck.
“Dan,” she whispers. “See me.”
Oh, Birdie. My heart fucking swells. I do see you. I always have.
There’s not a chance I’m going anywhere until she’s awake, so I try
reciting my Little League stats to get my mind off how fucking amazing it
feels to have her body against mine. To know that she feels the same way
for me as I do for her.
Because all I’ve ever wanted is to find someone who sees me for me.
Who loves all the things that make up who I am. And Lark is the one person
I want to let in, to show all the sides of Dan Montgomery.
Her breathing changes, and when I glance down from the ceiling where
I’ve made it to my fourth year of baseball in statistics, she’s blinking sleepy
eyes open. I give her a nervous smile, not sure how she’ll react to what’s
going on down below.
I watch her face shift from soft and relaxed to something else as our
physical position becomes apparent.
“Um, good morning?” she says, phrasing it as more of a question than a
statement. She drops her face into my chest as she removes her thigh from
pressing on my dick. “Sorry about that.”
I clear my throat. “It’s fine.” Yeah, given how my voice just squeaked, it’s
obviously not fine. “I’m just gonna…” I don’t finish the statement before
rolling out from under her, throwing off the covers and dashing across the
hall into the bathroom after making sure the coast is clear.
After I brush my teeth and get things under control, I return to the
bedroom. It’s still early enough that Mom and Dad aren’t up yet, but I know
they will be soon. Dad will get up first, as he does every morning, and make
a cup of tea to take to Mom in bed.
Lark is sitting up on the bed, her hands playing with the Christmas quilt
Mom pulls out every year. I settle in beside her, picking up on the
uncomfortable vibes but unsure what the fuck to do or say.
 “I really am sorry for whatever asleep me did to you,” Lark blurts out. “I
didn’t mean to make you feel weird.”
Well, fuck. Rolling onto my side, I prop my head up on one arm and
reach out to her with the other, pulling her into me. My own nerves don’t
mean shit, not when Lark obviously needs some reassurance. It’s funny how
I can get lost in my own brain, overthinking everything, but all it takes to
calm me is realizing Lark needs my protective side to take over.
Her soft sigh as she settles into my embrace soothes me even further. And
it gives me the courage to explain things as best I can.
“Don’t apologize, Birdie. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who has to
wrap my head around everything. You gotta remember, for the last few
years, I’ve had to keep my hands and my thoughts to myself. I wouldn’t
even let myself dream of mornings like this too often, because when I did, I
felt so guilty and messed up about it. Dreaming about my best friend while
she was supposedly in love with someone else? It felt so fucking wrong,
and I hated myself for it. But now that you’re here, that we’re here, I don’t
have to feel guilty about it, and I don’t have to hold back my physical
reactions. It’s just taking my brain a minute to catch up to that new reality.”
“Oh.” That one word is filled with understanding, and the very fact that
she gets me so easily feels like further proof that this was meant to be all
along.
She was always meant to be mine, we just had to take a long and windy
road to get here.
“I just need you to know, when I have a moment like I did just now, it’s
not about you. Not at all. I just need you to be patient with me.” It’s hard to
keep the pleading from my voice, and I wish I could be more confident and
secure. But you don’t spend your entire life not feeling romantic things for
anyone else, only to suddenly have the one person you do feel those things
for become available — and wanting those same things — without needing
an adjustment period.
“I’m not going anywhere, Dan. You’ve shown me in so many ways over
the years that you’re a man who’s worth waiting for. You’re the man I
deserve, who will love me the way I should be loved. I was feeling guilty
for how easy it was to move on from Baron until I realized it’s only easy
because I never loved him the way I should have. I honestly don’t know if I
ever truly loved him at all. But you…” Her voice trails off, her finger
drawing light circles over my chest.
 No, wait. Those aren’t circles. Those are hearts.
I swear to God, if she doesn’t start talking again, my heart might stop
completely.
“I’m falling in love with you.”
Holy. Shit.
I’m not saying I expect the heavens to open up and choirs of angels to
sing, but this does feel kind of like a Christmas miracle. Like, what is even
happening right now? Am I dreaming? Is this my brain cruelly torturing me
by dangling the one thing I want more than anything, more than a
championship, more than a contract that can retire my parents, more than a
Bugatti in my driveway…
“Dan?”
Her tentative question snaps me back to reality. Back to the woman that
just made my dreams come true. I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose before
resting my forehead to hers.
“Lark, I’ve loved you for so long, it feels as natural as breathing. I’ve
never felt like this about anyone else. And all I want is to be worthy of your
love in return.”
Her hand lifts to cup my cheek. And what she says next goes a long way
to erasing all the nerves I’ve had about being enough for her.
“You already are.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Two

Lark
“Why am I nervous?” Dan mumbles under his breath as he takes my
hand. I lean into his side reassuringly and we walk to the front of Ronan
and Willow’s house.
“Good question. If you figure it out, let me know.”
He lets out a strained laugh, but his shoulders drop a little bit.
Tonight is the team’s holiday dinner. It’ll be just the players and their
significant others. I’ve never been to it before, but I’ve heard the stories.
The gifts the players get each other, the elaborate feasts, and the drinking
that invariably leads to shenanigans.
Dan arranged an Uber for us so we don’t have to worry about driving
home, but even so, I don’t plan on having too much to drink. I’m too
anxious about our first time being together in front of his teammates.
They might all know how he’s always felt about me, but how do they
feel? Are any of them mad that I was so oblivious? Do they think I strung
him along? Do they think we’re moving too fast?
I can’t voice any of this to Dan. I’m sure he’d tell me I’m being silly, but
on the off chance that he doesn’t, the last thing I need to do is add to his
own nervousness. Nor do I want to know what he’s nervous about.
We reach the front door of a house I’ve been to many times. Subtle
sounds of voices and laughter float out. The party is already underway, and
we would have been here sooner, except when I opened the door and Dan
saw me in this dress, I suddenly found myself against the wall, engaged in a
very intense make out session that surprised even me.
For all that he claims to be awkward and nervous, and needing to take
things slow, Dan also very much enjoys kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.
By the time we broke apart, I needed a few minutes to fix my hair and
makeup. All of which made our Uber driver leave without us, so then we
had to request another one and wait for it to arrive.
Dan looks at me one more time, a slightly shaky smile on his face, then
he pushes the front door open. The volume rises considerably as we enter
the house. I know my way better than he does, so I take over, leading him
into the large, open space near the back of the house.
Sure enough, most of the team is already here. Rhett and Kai are in the
corner talking with one of the outfielders, Ronan’s in the kitchen doing
something, and I can see Willow chatting with Mav’s girlfriend Sadie. A
few of the other guys are outside on the heated patio, and some more of the
wives and girlfriends are with them.
My nightmare does not come true, and all conversation does not stop the
second we walk into the room. In fact, no one seems to even notice us
arriving together until Willow glances over.
“You’re here!” she cries out, walking over quickly and pulling me in for a
hug, forcing me to drop Dan’s hand. “Hi Monty.” She releases me and
moves to hug him and I take a step to the side, against the wall of the living
room. Her exuberant greeting has drawn some attention, and a few of the
other players move over to say hi. I hang back and watch Dan greet
everyone, smiling and hugging his teammates.
“Monty, my brother!” Kai booms, pulling Dan in and slapping his back as
they hug. It’s true that a pitcher and a catcher often develop a unique bond.
And I’ve watched Dan and Kai grow their connection over the last year. But
hearing Kai greet him, I suddenly realize I’ve never once asked Dan in all
the time I’ve known him if he would rather I call him Monty like everyone
else on the team.
Why my brain chooses this exact moment to fixate on that, I don’t know,
but now I can’t seem to let it go, my eyes going to him as if I might find the
answer somewhere on his face.
Of course, I don’t. All I see is him smiling, having a good time,
completely unaware my brain has hijacked my logical self, and I’m semi-
spiraling over something as random as his nickname.
Then again, maybe it’s not so random. When Rhett walks over to me, his
big arms wide open, I realize with a start that focusing on the name I call
Dan has distracted me from my worries over how the team will react to my
being here with him.
“Lark! Happy holidays, it’s great to see you, darlin’.”
I hug him back, hoping his reaction is a sign that my nerves are
unfounded. “Thanks, Rhett. How was your Christmas?”
He shrugs, looking a little disappointed. “Not the best, if I’m bein’
honest. I was goin’ to head home to see my mama, but shegot a last-minute
deal for some trip to the coast to visit my aunt. Turkey and mashed potatoes
ain’t the same when you’re by yourself.”
He sounds so morose, my heart breaks for the big guy. “I’m sorry, Rhett.
You should have let one of us know.”
He shakes his head, glancing from me to Dan. “Nah, don’t worry about
me. I knew Monty wanted to take ya to meet his folks. No way was I gonna
get in the middle of that.”
Kai joins us then, draping his arm across my shoulders. “Lark, Lark,
Lark. You finally saw the light and put our boy out of his misery.”
My cheeks heat. But before I can say anything, Kai is shoved to the side,
and Dan takes his place, pulling me into his arms, my back to his front.
“What did I say, Yami? Don’t be a dumbass.”
“I wasn’t!” Kai protests, and I feel Dan’s lips land on my bare shoulder,
making me shiver.
“Aww, look at you two. Freaking finally.”
That comes from Willow, who walks over with Sadie, Maverick, and
Ronan. I feel Dan inhale, and his arms tighten around me.
“Okay, let’s get this over with. Lark and I are together. Yes, finally. Yes,
it’s real, and amazing, and everything I’ve ever wanted. No, you cannot
give her a hard time about taking so long to realize Baron was a fucking
douche canoe. No, you cannot give me a hard time about being too chicken
to tell her how I felt. Yes, you can be happy for both of us. Got it?”
Mav starts a slow clap, a rare smile just barely crossing his lips. Pretty
soon, the others join in. While I can tell my face is flaming with
embarrassment, it also feels pretty great, finally having everything out in
the open. Knowing the team is aware of our change in relationship status
and are seemingly on board with it is a relief.
 And hearing Dan sound so calm, confident, and most of all, happy when
he made that declaration to everyone?
Well, that might be the best feeling of all.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Three

Monty
“Why are you so nervous?” Yami punches my arm as we walk up to the
cashier at the grocery store. “Big plans for tonight?”
Yeah…like having the woman of my dreams in my bed, making me no
longer the oldest virgin in the major leagues.
“Dinner with Lark,” I answer instead, dumping the items in my arms onto
the conveyor belt. I mentally review my list, double-checking I’ve got
everything.
Sparkling wine…ingredients for my mom’s famous pasta primavera…
two chocolate cupcakes…and licorice.
I got the condoms in an online order that arrived yesterday, saving me
from explaining that purchase to Yami. Granted, he probably wouldn’t bat
an eye at me buying them, likely assuming I’m restocking, rather than
purchasing for the first time.
“Things are goin’ good with you two?” he asks, leaning against the
checkout counter. I’m starting to regret agreeing to hang out today. I’m not
exactly interested in casual conversation right now. Not while my stomach
is churning and my mind keeps running through my plans for tonight.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Great chat, pal,” he says sarcastically, and I return his earlier arm punch
with one of my own.
 “Listen, I agreed to go to the gym with you. You chose to invite yourself
along for my errands, so don’t give me shit when I’m distracted, thinking of
everything I need to do.”
My words come out sharper than I intended, earning the raised eyebrows
Yami gives me. Normally, we’re pretty well in sync. Pitchers and catchers
have to be. The good ones, at least. Rafe and I had it, the magical dynamic
that allowed us to read each other like an open book. Yami and I are getting
close, but we’re not quite there yet.
And thank fuck for that, because if he knew about my internal panic, I’d
never hear the end of it.
We finally reach the cashier, and I quickly pay for my groceries, throwing
them into a bag that I snatch up before walking swiftly to the exit. Outside,
it’s freezing and overcast, and I turn up the collar of my coat as we hustle to
my truck.
“Jesus, it’s colder than Satan’s balls out here.”
“Does Satan have cold balls? Wouldn’t they be hot?”
I huff out a laugh. “Good point.”
“Seriously, Monty. What’s going on? You’re not yourself. Is it Lark? You
sure you guys are good?”
The genuine concern in his voice makes me pause. Maybe we’re not as
far from the magic as I thought.
I lean back against my seat, the truck slowly warming up with the engine
running. I consider the guys on the team my friends, hell, my family. But
other than Pops, none of them ever knew my secret. It’s not exactly
something that comes up easily in conversation.
Yeah, I’m a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. Nah, not for some religious
reason, just because my entire life has been ruled by baseball, and when I
wasn’t on the field shagging balls, I was a science geek with zero game.
Nope. Not something I have ever been open about with a group of
professional athletes who have enjoyed more than their fair share of cleat
chasers.
But Yami, he’s different. Sure, I’ve witnessed him flirt with countless
women, even taking a few of them home. But he’s never been in a
relationship as long as I’ve known him, and for the most part, he seems like
a respectful guy. Maybe he won’t give me too much shit.
“Me and Lark. We haven’t…” Shit, this is harder than I thought. I
swallow. “We, ah, we haven’t gone all the way yet.”
 “What is this, high school? You haven’t fucked. Is that what you mean?”
I frown, even as I nod. “Yeah. Fine. We haven’t…done that.”
“Jesus, Monty, I know you’re a grown-ass man who can use the word
fuck.”
Maybe I was wrong and telling Yami was a mistake. I’m sure as shit not
telling him the whole story now. I clench my jaw, staring forward.
“I think it’s cool. You care about each other, and you’re treating her the
way a woman should be treated.”
My head turns to stare at him, but he’s not done surprising me.
“Casual sex is fine, but when there’s feelings involved, waiting till it’s
right is a good idea. That’s all I’m saying. So is tonight the night?”
I nod again. He gives me one in response. “Cool. Let’s get going then, so
you can manscape.”
That makes me snort, then my eyes widen. Manscape?

Three hours and two disturbing articles from the internet later, I’m in the
world’s most awkward position in my bathroom, one leg up on the counter
as I peer down at my junk. Thank fuck, I’m flexible. When the hell did
manscaping become a thing? I mean, I’ve always kept it trimmed; no one
needs a bush hiding their dick. But this is next-level.
I’m rereading part of the article that talks about waxing your goddamn
ass cheeks, no thanks, when there’s a knock at my door.
“Shit.”
How the hell is it eight already? In my surprise, I lose my balance, which
is embarrassing for a top-tier catcher. What’s even worse is the horrifying
realization that I didn’t lock the front door, apparent when I hear Lark’s
voice call out from the front.
“Dan? Are you here?”
I stumble, knocking my hip into the towel rail, hard enough to leave a
bruise. “God-fucking-damn it.”
I can hear her footsteps, and here I am naked from the waist down with
my very limp dick only half-scaped. Is that the term? Who fucking knows.
All I know is this is not exactly how I wanted tonight to start.
“Hang on,” I holler back, hoping she’ll wait for me in the living room.
No such luck.
 “Shoot, I’m sorry!”
I straighten up from grabbing my underwear off the bathroom floor and
catch her staring at me in the mirror, her cheeks flaming red.
“Hey, Birdie.” I laugh nervously, clutching my boxers in front of myself.
Her eyes slowly drag down my body, only to freeze and then widen.
“Dan, when did you get a tattoo?” she whispers, and I frown in confusion
for a second before understanding dawns on me. Ah, crap. I guess I forgot
she’s never seen it. Somehow, the other night when she gave me the blow
job that made my world stand still, she didn’t notice it. I panic, not sure how
to answer. Is she happy about it? Does she know what it means?
“Um, I dunno.” Lame, Monty. Real lame.
She looks back up at me and steps in closer, her fingers coming to my
hip, resting right over the small tattoo. “Dan. What kind of bird is this?”
Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.
My brain is no longer functioning. I can’t possibly think clearly when
she’s this close to me and I’m half naked with my cock waking up to her
proximity.
“Uhhh…”
Her pink tongue darts out and moistens her lips as her gaze drops down
again, then back up to my face. Well, fuck. Here we go.
“It’s a skylark.” My whisper is hoarse, but her mouth slowly turns
upward. “I got it two years ago.”
“Why then?” she whispers back.
There’s no option but to tell her. As Yoda would say, “Do or do not, there
is no try.” And this has to be a do moment.
“Because that was when I realized I love you.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Four

Lark
“Dan,” I whisper seconds before crashing my lips onto his. I’m overcome
with emotion, floating on an endless sea. He’s loved me for so long. He
carries me with him, every day of his life, and has for years.
And what have I done?
I’ve allowed myself to believe that doing what I thought was expected of
me was the right choice. I believed so little of myself, I was able to
overlook this beautiful man and his love.
It would be so simple to spiral into self-flagellation and guilt over how
much time I wasted. Time I could have spent with Dan. But now, when
those thoughts creep in, it’s easier to push them away. To center myself in
his kiss, in his arms around me, and in the deep sense of knowing this is
exactly how it should be.
Eventually, we break apart, and I remember my curiosity when I found
him in the bathroom, bare from the waist down.
“What exactly are you doing?” I don’t bother trying to hide the way my
gaze travels down his body, landing on that beautiful cock of his that’s so
hard, it’s pointing at me. But something’s different. I lean forward slightly,
squinting. “Um, Dan, why is your —”
“It’s all Yami’s fault!” he blurts out, attempting to cover himself with his
hands.
 “I’m sorry, what?”
Dan groans, his head falling forward. “He was with me when I was
grabbing groceries for tonight and you know how he can’t shut up. I swear,
I didn’t tell him anything. And I’m definitely not presuming something’s
gonna happen, but just in case, he said something about manscaping, and I
started googling, and then you showed up, and fuck.”
I’m openly laughing now, and Dan’s cheeks are bright red. I’m starting to
understand the bizarre sight I walked in on. My laughter dies as I
comprehend more of what he’s saying.
“Are you saying you want to…”
His eyes flash with something indescribable, and his head moves in the
barest of nods. “I do. With you. I want you, Lark. In every possible way. It
doesn’t have to be tonight, not if you don’t feel ready yet. But when you
are, just know, so am I.”
How do I tell him I’ve been ready for this, for him, ever since I realized
my feelings went way beyond friendship?
How do I tell him it’s been many, many months since I had sex, and my
body is already aching for relief?
How do I tell him I feel so incredibly honoured that he wants me for his
first time?
I register the downturn of Dan’s face a second later and realize I’ve been
so caught up in my own feelings, I didn’t actually respond to him.
I lean in and press my lips to his jawline, peppering kisses down the
column of his throat. Then, knowing I have to be brave and bold, I take his
hand and slide it down the front of my leggings.
His fingers brush over my damp panties and his head falls to my shoulder
with a groan.
“In case that isn’t clear enough, I’m very much ready.”
With a deep rumbling sound, Dan lifts me up and throws me over his
shoulder, bringing me almost eye level with his bare ass. “Oh my God!” I
shriek, closing my eyes and giggling. Wait. Why am I closing my eyes? I
open them and take a good look at the round, tight bubble butt on my
favourite catcher.
When my hand just so happens to pinch it, Dan yelps, and then I’m
tossed down, bouncing on his mattress. “Did you just pinch my ass,
Birdie?”
 He sounds so outraged, my giggle turns into a full body laugh. Which
grows even more when I look at him standing there, his arms folded across
his chest, his dick jutting out at me. It’s clear he’s also barely holding back
his laughter, and a second later, it breaks free. He jumps on the bed, making
me bounce and shriek again. But this time he muffles the sound with his
lips on mine as he lowers his large body between my legs.
My hands wrap around his back and find the hem of his shirt. Tugging, I
lift it up. Dan raises his upper body and quickly pulls it the rest of the way
off until he’s completely nude.
“You look way too damn satisfied for a woman who hasn’t even had an
orgasm yet.”
I can feel my smile grow even wider. “With a view like this, who
wouldn’t be satisfied?”
He sits back on his heels and pulls me up. “No fair. I wanna be satisfied
with my view, too.”
I let him strip off my shirt, but when he goes to unclasp my bra, I stop
him with a mock frown. “Are you saying the view isn’t any good unless I’m
naked?”
The look of horror on his face is comical, and I bust out laughing. “Oh
my God, I’m joking. I promise, I’m not that insecure!”
Dan recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into
his chest, nuzzling my neck. “Lark, you’re the most beautiful woman in the
entire goddamn world. You could be wearing a unicorn costume and I’d still
find you sexy as hell.”
“I think you’d prefer me to wear an Ewok outfit.”
He draws back, sees my grin, and narrows his eyes. “Woman, you need to
stop mocking me.”
“Or?”
“Or…”
I get no other warning before his fingers dig into my side, instantly
finding the ticklish spots. “Dan!” I scream, squirming and trying to get
away. But he’s got me pinned between his strong thighs, and there’s no
escape. Then he stops, with one hand holding both of mine above my head,
and the other wrapped around my rib cage just below my breasts.
“You’re so fucking amazing, Lark,” he says, his voice hoarse. “If this is a
dream, I hope I never wake up.”
“It’s not a dream,” I whisper back. “It’s real. And I’m here. Yours.”
 “Mine.”
The rest of my clothes come off in a matter of seconds. And then our
naked bodies are slipping against each other as we lose ourselves in a kiss
so full of passion and love, it would take my breath away if Dan wasn’t
already stealing it.
He lifts his head just enough to look down at me, releasing my hands so
he can stroke my cheek. There’s a vulnerable expression on his face that I
ache to ease.
“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this, Birdie. There’s only so much you
can learn from locker room chatter and porn. But I want to be good for
you.”
I slide my hands up and down his strong back, feeling the ripple of
muscles. “You will be.”
“Teach me? Teach me what you like, what feels good.”
My cheeks burn with a mixture of desire and embarrassment. Proving
how in tune he is with me, Dan pulls back.
“What’s wrong. What did I say?”
I shake my head and cup his cheek. “It’s not you, it’s me. I…I don’t know
if I can teach you, because I don’t know if I even know what feels good.”
His confused frown is adorable, lightening the mood. “What the hell does
that mean?” It doesn’t take long before he realizes exactly what I meant.
“Hold on a fucking second. Are you telling me Baron didn’t…”
My gaze slides to the side, but Dan takes my chin and turns my head so
I’m looking at him.
“Did he not know how to make you come?”
I clear my throat. “I mean, he did, like, once or twice, but the rest of the
time I either faked it or got myself there with toys after.”
His eyes narrow thoughtfully, and then he leans down and kisses my
forehead, then the tip of my nose, then finally, my lips.
“I have learned a couple of things from listening to the guys. First, toys
can be fun, and I definitely want to play with them with you at some point.
But second, and most important is that you come first. No matter what. So I
need you to promise me something, Birdie. Never fake it. Not with me.
Because your pleasure, your happiness, means more to me than anything
else. Certainly more than my own.” He pauses, kissing me again, keeping
his eyes open and trained on me. Then he grins. “And if it takes a lot of
practice to get there, well, Coach always did say I had a good work ethic.”
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Five

Monty
Is cracking jokes and being a wiseass the best idea for foreplay the first
time you have sex — or are about to?
Possibly not…
But it is on-brand for me, I guess. Making Lark smile sure as fuck is an
aphrodisiac for me. Underneath the jokes, however, I’m scared shitless. I
want this to go well, and I certainly don’t want to hurt her. I know, it’s not
her first time, only mine. But still.
I just keep reminding myself, I trust her with my life. So I can trust her
with this.
Shifting so I’m lying beside her, propped up on one arm, I keep my gaze
trained on hers as my fingers slowly start to trail lightly over her body. I
come to rest my hand between her breasts and lean in to kiss her slow and
sweet. Truthfully? Even if nothing else happened tonight, a part of me
would be in fucking heaven just being here with her.
But a bigger part of me wants to feel this woman’s body clench around
my dick.
Which is why I’ll do slow and sweet now. Because I know as soon as I
get inside of her, it’s game on, and game over, probably in less time than it
takes me to round the bases.
 I move my lips down the smooth column of her throat, along her collar
bone, and down farther. My hand precedes my mouth, grazing the soft swell
of her stomach and over her hips. I can feel her move restlessly under me,
seeking more touch, more pressure, just more.
I’ll give it to her. But I want to explore first.
My mouth covers one of her breasts, sucking gently until her nipple is a
stiff peak under my tongue.
“Oh my God,” Lark moans, her fingers raking through my hair. Her back
arches into my touch and I move to the other side, lavishing attention on
that breast. I take my time, licking, sucking, even biting down gently,
listening to her cues to see what drives her wild.
“I can’t decide which one I like best,” I say, popping off and cupping
them both in my hands.
Lark sputters, and I glance up to see her looking at me with a wild
expression. I nod to her tits. “Left one feels rounder, but the right gets so
stiff in my mouth. And they both cause you to make the most delicious
sounds.”
She whimpers as I squeeze them, and I give her a wolfish smile. “I guess
I don’t have to choose favourites. I can take my time and enjoy them both.”
“Don’t take too long,” she says, and I’m guessing she meant it to sound
sultry but the thread of need in her voice makes me feel like a goddamn
king. I’m the one driving her crazy with lust. Me. The oldest virgin in the
entire goddamn league is making Lark Miller come undone with nothing
but my hand and my mouth on her tits.
Fuckin’ right.
I suck a nipple into my mouth once more, just because I can. Then I move
my way down. I don’t know what to expect, I’ve never done this before.
But I damn well want to.
Lark spreads her legs, giving me space. I kiss my way down one thigh.
Do all women taste this good? Like, her skin is somehow sweet. Jesus, it’s
addicting.
She’s addicting.
My hand runs all the way down to her ankle, and I lift it up to drape over
my shoulder, pressing one final kiss to the inside of her knee. Then I do the
same on the other side, all while listening to Lark’s soft sighs and hums of
pleasure.
Thanks, porn, for the inspiration.
 But no video, no locker room chatter, nothing could have prepared me for
the way I’m stunned speechless by the pink folds of Lark’s pussy staring me
in the face. I didn’t know what the guys meant when they said a pussy could
be beautiful until now. Like, weirdly mysterious, totally delectable, and
holy shit, I want it.
Looking up the expanse of her body, I see Lark’s head lifted from the
pillow, staring down at me. I don’t want to fuck this up. I really don’t want
to fuck this up.
“I want to be good for you, Lark. Teach me.”
She swallows, and it kills me, waiting for her to say something. Then she
says, “I’ll try.”
Maintaining eye contact right now starts to feel like too much pressure, so
I close my eyes and lean down, aiming to press a kiss to her clit.
I miss.
“Shit. Hang on,” I mutter, opening my eyes.
Lark slides her fingers down, making a vee on either side of her pussy.
“Right there,” she murmurs.
I’m not going to ignore the instruction, not when I’m well aware of my
shortcomings in this situation. This time when I lean down, I keep my eyes
open and kiss the peak framed by her fingers.
“Dan,” she whispers. And mentally, I cheer. Target acquired.
I do it again, this time, snaking my tongue out to lap at her softly. She
hums, a soft, contented sound, so I stay there, licking her pussy, exploring it
with my tongue. She tastes just as good as when I licked her off my fingers.
Speaking of which…
I pull her hand off, kissing her fingers before placing them on her
stomach. “I got this now, Birdie.” I smirk, then move one hand between us
and stroke her entrance before slowly sliding a finger inside her heat.
She answers with a moan, and I can’t hold back my reaction.
“Jesus, Lark,” I groan when I instantly feel her muscles tighten around
me. My eyes are open now, because I don’t want to miss a second of this. I
watch, fascinated, as my finger moves in and out, glistening with her
arousal.
“More,” Lark whimpers, her hand gripping my shoulder. I add a second
finger, watching her stretch around me. God, that’s gonna feel good on my
cock. I rotate my fingers, exploring her body for several minutes, just
listening to the little sounds she makes.
 “Curl them over,” she gasps. “Oh my God, Dan!”
No way. Is she? I stare up at her face, entranced as her head goes back.
Her eyes are closed and she’s quietly keening as I do exactly as she asked,
curling my fingers one at a time and pressing against a soft, fleshy part of
her pussy.
Yeah, she’s definitely coming. Her hold on my shoulders borderlines on
painful, but I don’t give a fuck as Lark starts to moan my name, and I feel
her squeeze my fingers like a vice. There’s a rush of warmth and moisture,
and I bend over and lap at it, licking around my fingers, not stopping until
her hips sag onto the bed.
Her arm drapes over her face as I slowly withdraw my fingers. But I see
her peeking out from underneath as I slowly suck off each one.
“That was fun, Birdie,” I say with a smirk. “We’re doing that again.”
She lets out a breathless laugh and reaches for my arms with grabby
hands. “I won’t say no to that. You’re sure you’ve never done that? I’ve
never come that quickly.”
I let her pull me over top of her, and when I’m level with her face, I push
back some sweaty strands of hair. My smirk falls, and my voice turns
serious. “Remember the whole virgin thing? Seriously, though, was that
okay? Like, honestly?”
Lark blinks up at me with a sweet smile. “If that was any more okay,
you’d be peeling me off the ceiling. That was amazing. Ten stars. Would
recommend.”
I snort, dropping my face into her shoulder. But inside? Inside, I’m
strutting like a goddamn peacock.
“I know we’ve talked about it a little bit, but I still don’t understand.
How? How have you never been with anyone?”
I roll onto my side, keeping one arm and leg draped over her. “Honestly,
it was a combination of things. Baseball was my life, and when I realized I
had a shot at making a career of it, I knew I would have to sacrifice a lot of
other stuff.” I let out a small laugh. “Granted, I never planned on sacrificing
my social life. But I also wasn’t about to throw away my future if it didn’t
feel right, and no one ever felt right.”
“No one? Not a girl in high school you wanted to take to prom or
anything?”
I guess I don’t do a good job of hiding my wince, because Lark points at
me, leaning back slightly. “Ah-ha! There was someone.”
 “Cool your jets, Detective Miller. Yeah, there was one girl I sort of liked.
But you gotta remember, not only was I fully focused on baseball, but I was
also a major nerd. In the very little spare time I had, I was obsessed with
space, NASA, all that shit. Not exactly cool guy material. When I asked
Jessica to prom, she laughed in my face.”
Lark snuggles in close, pressing a kiss to my sternum. “Nerds are hot,
Dan. I wouldn’t have laughed if you’d asked me. She was an idiot.”
I smile. “Thanks, Birdie.”
Her hand comes up and pushes on my chest. I roll over willingly but keep
hold of her, so she’s straddling me.
“We’ve got two options,” she says, her tone almost conversational now. I
quirk a smile, lacing my fingers together behind my head. Her body is still
flushed, and I’m still feeling damn good about myself.
“Yes.”
Lark laughs. “You haven’t heard the options!”
“Doesn’t matter, the answer is still yes.”
She slaps my chest and rolls her eyes. I cover her hands with mine and
lift them to my mouth for a kiss. “Sorry, Birdie. What are my options?” I try
to sound contrite, but I’m too damn happy.
Her smile tells me she is, too. And that’s honestly all that matters.
“Well,” she starts, pulling her hands free so she can plant them beside my
head. Her hips roll against mine, reminding me there’s so much more to
come. “I could repay you for that excellent orgasm you just gave me by
sucking your cock into my mouth until you explode on my tongue.”
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, grabbing her ass and holding her still. I’m pretty
sure my dick is starting to leak just listening to her.
“Or we could take things further.” She bites her lower lip, and I surge
upward, covering her mouth with mine and teasing her lip free with my
tongue.
“I was right,” I mumble against her mouth. “The answer is yes.”
She giggles as I stretch to the side, fumbling to open the bedside drawer
where I stashed the brand-new box of condoms. Grabbing the strip, I move
back underneath her and brandish it.
“But for now, I choose option two.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Six

Monty
My heart is thundering in my chest as Lark sits up and takes the strip of
condoms from me. She tears one off and looks down at me.
“May I do the honours?”
I nod rapidly. She opens it and takes my cock in her hand, sliding up and
down my length a few times. It’s not necessary, I’ve been rock-hard ever
since she walked in on me in the bathroom. But it feels good, so I’m sure as
shit not stopping her.
Once the rubber is rolled over my dick, she pauses. But with her hand
wrapped around me, my brain is a scrambled mess.
“Dan, are you sure?”
I must resemble a fish with how my mouth flaps open and shut. Is she
serious? It’s sweet she’s checking in, I guess, but good God, woman.
“Birdie, if you don’t put my dick in your sweet pussy immediately, I’m
gonna embarrass myself and start begging. Please, don’t make a grown man
beg.”
Her only response is to lift her hips, and holding my dick, she lines
herself up. Then, achingly slow, she slides down me.
“Holy fucking shit,” I groan, gripping her hips tightly. The sensation
overload washes over me like a goddamn tidal wave. This is so much better
than my hand, even better than Lark’s mouth. Why the fucking hell did I
wait so long to do this?
Oh yeah. Because I was waiting for her, even when I didn’t know I was.
When I crack my eyes open again, Lark’s looking down at me, awestruck.
“You…I…Ohmygod,” she sighs.
“Ditto,” is all I manage to get out because now, she’s moving, slowly
rocking her hips back and forth. All I’m doing is lying here like a useless
idiot. Get control man, figure out how to use your fucking body again. This
feels good, but I’m willing to bet I can figure out how to make it feel even
better.
Pep talk to myself over, I begin to thrust up. It takes a few minutes to
figure out the rhythm, but then we’re moving together. Lark’s hands land on
my chest, her hair falling around her face as she starts to breathe heavily.
Yeah, this is good. Holy shit good. I draw my feet up and push up even
faster, and Lark almost topples off. “Oops.”
She just giggles, thank fuck, and we readjust.
“Maybe not quite that enthusiastic?” Lark teases, dragging her fingers
over my nipples. “Slow is fine to start with, you know.”
I nod eagerly and focus again on matching her pace. Her smile is all the
encouragement I need. Then she does something with her hips, rotating
them somehow.
“Good God,” I groan, my mouth falling open. Oh shit, this is gonna get
embarrassing. “Stopstopstop.”
Lark freezes, and I focus on my breathing, trying to regain some control.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly, and I can hear the worry in her voice.
Opening my eyes, I force out a nod.
“Yeah,” I croak. “Just trying not to be a two-pump chump.”
Her laugh has me smiling in response. “It’s fine, Dan. Our first time
doesn’t have to be perfect. Remember what you said about practice?” She
gives another swivel of her hips and I groan.
“You’re killing me, woman.”
“They do call it la petite mort.”
“I’ll die a happy man.”
Her lips land on mine, and we start to move in tandem again. “I’d rather
you didn’t die. I’m nowhere near done with you, Dan Montgomery.”
Something in her voice wraps around my heart, holding it tight. And just
like that, things start to move quickly again. Lark rocks up and down on my
dick, and I’m content to let her lead — this time, at least.
Within a minute or two, I have to start listing off all the teams in the
major leagues, trying to distract myself. Because the orgasm I can feel
building? Is gonna be intense. And I’ll be damned if I let it happen too soon.
But this feels fucking incredible. I was already obsessed with Lark, but
now? Being with her like this, as close as two people can get? Jesus, I don’t
ever want to stop.
“So good,” she whines, and I reach one hand up to cup the back of her
neck, needing to kiss her.
“You feel like heaven, Birdie. I had no idea,” I growl against her lips,
kissing her messily. “Fuck.”
“Don’t stop,” Lark pants, her hips starting to move faster. “Oh God, my
clit. I need…”
Some primal instinct kicks in, and my hand immediately reaches between
us, my thumb finding her clit. I don’t know how I know what she needs, but
I do. And seconds after, I start to circle around the hood of her pussy, her
short nails dig into my chest, and she flings her head back.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
When I feel her pussy gripping me like a fucking vice, all bets are off on
trying to control my own release. My thrusts are erratic and wild, probably
uncoordinated as fuck. And all of a sudden, the sensations change,
becoming way more intense. My dick is surrounded by warmth, and I swear
to God, I can feel her pulsating around me. The noises coming out of me
sound animalistic, and all too soon, I feel myself emptying into the condom.
“Fucking hell,” I breathe when I’m finally done. Lark is draped over my
chest, and I can feel her heart racing with mine. I’m starting to soften inside
of her, but I’ll be damned if I want to move.
Unfortunately, Lark does that for me. “Hold the condom?” she instructs,
and I grip my base as she slowly lifts off me.
She stills, looking down at my dick. I lift my head to see what she’s
staring at. “What?”
“Um. Well, the condom. It broke.”
“Oh.”
“Hold on.” She doesn’t look at me, climbing off the bed and disappearing
into the bathroom. A minute later, she returns with a small towel. After she
hands it to me, I wrap it around the base of my cock and pull off the
condom. It’s a lot messier than I expected, but I guess that’s what happens
when it breaks. I wrap it in a ball and drop it to the floor.
My mind is racing, trying to figure out what to say. It’s clear Lark’s
nervous about this, and I need to reassure her somehow.
“I guess I don’t need to tell you, I’ve got a clean bill of health.” I say,
trying to make light of it. A tiny flash of a smile crosses her face but it’s
gone too soon.
“Lark, I’m sorry.”
That seems to break whatever spell she was under, and she reaches a hand
out to rest it on my arm. “No, don’t apologize. I’m sorry I freaked out for a
minute there.” She manages to muster a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“It’s fine, really. I’m on the pill, so you know, we’ll be okay.”
Her nervous laugh doesn’t convince me that she’s truly fine. But I’m at a
loss for what else to say. I wish I could go back in time and recapture the
fucking magic from a few minutes ago.
“We’ll be okay no matter what, Birdie. It’s me and you.”
Her shoulders sag at last, the tension receding. I take the chance and
reach for her, pulling her to lie back down in my arms. Thank fuck, she
comes easily, nestling back in to snuggle.
“That’s better,” I say, nuzzling into her hair.
Her arms squeeze tight around me for a second before relaxing. “Sorry I
ruined your first time with my panic.”
My hand finds her ass, or at least the side of it, and I smack lightly. “Stop
apologizing. You didn’t ruin anything. That was a goddamn experience. I’m
talking angels singing from on high, fireworks exploding, World Series
championship, top-ten moments of all-time, experience.”
This time, her giggle sounds more like my Lark. “Top ten, huh? What
needs to improve to make it into the top five?”
“For starters, me not bucking you off.”
An adorable snort escapes her, and now we’re both laughing.
“Rookie mistake,” she says, her lips finding my jawline. “You’ll do better
next time.”
“Practice makes perfect,” I say conversationally, not bothering to hold
back my grin.
“Hmm. So it does,” she replies, and I can tell she’s smiling, too.
“And I do pride myself on being the very best I can be.”
“That work ethic of yours.”
 “Exactly.”
“So.”
“So.” I move suddenly, rolling on top of her, pinning her between my
arms, and letting my already-starting-to-stiffen dick settle between her legs.
“Clearly, I need to continue my lessons.”
“Lessons?” Lark snort-laughs again, clapping her hand over her mouth. I
peel it away and kiss her lips.
“Yeah. Sex ed.” I rock my hips against her. “I want an A plus.”
She gasps softly as my dick rubs against her clit. “You’re a good student,
Dan. But maybe some study sessions would help.” Her hand moves blindly
to the side, patting the mattress for the other condom packets. I reach over
and grab them, settling back on my heels.
I might not have had sex until tonight, but I do know how to put on a
condom. As soon as it’s rolled over me for a second time, I move back over
top of her. And gripping the base of my dick, I slide right back into her
fucking incredible pussy.
“Class is officially back in session.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lark
Blinking my eyes open slowly, I become aware of the heavy weight of
Dan’s arm over my waist, his hand cupped lovingly over my breast. I can
feel his breath, slow and even against my neck, and the solid point of his
cock nudging against me between my legs.
The man is insatiable. After the fumbles of our first time, he rallied
impressively, bringing me no less than five orgasms.
How he got so talented with his tongue with zero experience, I do not
know. Maybe he’s just a quick learner, or maybe he takes direction well, or
maybe Dan Montgomery is simply the perfect man for me.
Whatever it is, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy, this satisfied, or this
deliciously sore in all the right places.
I shift slowly, trying not to wake him. At least one of us should get some
sleep after how busy we were last night.
Last night…when I was supposed to marry Baron but spent it in bed with
Dan instead. Today being New Year’s Day feels especially poignant. It’s the
start of a new day, a new year, and a new life for me. Guess Michael Bublé
was right. Because I am definitely feeling good.
“Mmm. Why are you awake?” Dan grumbles into my hair, and I feel him
nuzzle in closer. He’s so affectionate, and I freaking love how he can’t seem
to get enough of touching me, always wanting to be as close as possible.
 Maybe other people would feel smothered, but not me. After a lifetime of
chasing affection and constantly being denied, I’m loving every second of
it.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to sleep when I’m being poked in the behind,” I
tease, pushing my butt back slightly, nudging him.
Of course, all Dan does is squeeze my breast before moving that hand
down to my hip and thrusting against me a few times.
“Not my fault. I can’t control what my body does when I’m asleep.”
“Uh-huh, sure. That’s a great argument.” I roll over to face him. “For the
record, I’m not complaining. Waking up in your arms is no hardship.”
His sleepy smile is just too freaking cute.
“But I need coffee.” To punctuate my statement, I yawn, covering my
mouth and turning my head to save him from morning breath.
“I got it.” With a surprising display of energy for a man who was just
asleep, Dan throws off the blankets and hops out of bed. I watch him
unabashedly as he struts bare-ass naked into the bathroom. He emerges a
few minutes later, still naked, only to swipe up his boxers from the floor,
this pair covered in Santa hats.
“Christmas is over, you know,” I call out as he walks from the room,
unable to resist another tease.
He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But as I’m sitting up, the Santa
hat boxers come flying through the doorway, and I burst out laughing.
I go to his closet and pull down an old Tridents T-shirt that looks soft and
well-loved. Pulling it over my head, it barely covers my ass, but I was right.
It smells like him and is extremely soft. Padding out of the bedroom, I find
Dan in the kitchen, once again naked.
This time, he’s shaking his ass and humming under his breath, something
that sounds like “Jingle Bell Rock” but not quite in tune.
I walk up behind him and grab both of his butt cheeks in my hands,
squeezing them.
“Hands off woman, or no coffee for you,” he admonishes, pushing me
away.
I back off, laughing. “Hey, you can’t parade that naked baseball booty
around and not expect me to grab it. That’s just mean.”
He looks over his shoulder at me with a wicked smirk. “I knew you liked
my ass.”
“Of course, I do. Have you seen your ass?”
 He pretends to dust off his shoulders. “I mean, I do spend a lot of time
squatting.”
Turning back to the coffee machine, he pours two mugs before turning
and setting them on the counter next to me. Completely nonchalant, as if his
nudity is perfectly normal, he moves to the fridge and pulls out two
creamers. One vanilla for me, and one…
“Is that sugar cookie creamer?” I ask, partly fascinated and partly
disgusted.
Dan pours a liberal amount into his mug and nods. “Hell, yeah. Yami
convinced me to try it, and it’s delicious.” He passes it to me, and I take a
tentative sip.
My eyes widen. “Woah.” He holds out his hand for his coffee, but I turn
and pull it into my chest. “No. Mine.”
He just chuckles and gives me a wink as he doctors up the other cup the
same way before putting both creamers away.
I take another sip of the sweetened coffee and close my eyes with a
contented hum. “That’s so good.”
“I’ll stock up for us before they stop selling it.”
Us.
We’re an us. I love that.
My eyes flutter open to see him staring at me so intently, his eyes so full
of love, I’m not sure how I missed it for so long.
“God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve dreamed of this. Of mornings spent with
you wearing my clothes, drinking my coffee. It’s perfect.”
I set my mug down and step forward, sliding my hands up and around his
neck. He meets me half way for a kiss, and I can taste the coffee creamer on
him. I hear him set his cup down as well, and then his hands are on my ass
and I’m lifted in the air. He starts to walk away, and I make a sound of
protest.
“No, my coffee!”
Dan shakes his head, his stare intense, almost feral with desire. “Coffee
later. I need to fuck you right now while you’re wearing my shirt.”
Well. Okay, then.
We spend the day being lazy. But when evening approaches and I start to
feel antsy, I drag Dan out of his apartment for a walk. It gets cut short once
we realize how many people are out for possibly the same reason.
After barely half an hour, we turn around and head swiftly back to his
building.
“That was too people-y,” he says, leaning back against the elevator wall
dramatically. “I don’t want to deal with people today.”
I giggle. “Aren’t I people? Are you saying you don’t want to deal with
me?”
“Oh, I’ll deal with you. Don’t you worry.” He gives me a smirk.
I respond by stepping in close and sliding my cold hands under his
sweater. He gasps in shock. “Damn it woman, warn a guy, would ya?”
“Nah, this is more fun.”
He groans but covers my hands with his over the top of his sweater.
“You’re lucky I love you, Birdie.”
He might be meaning it in a teasing way right now, but those words make
me melt. “Yeah, I am.”
His smile softens into something sweeter, and he presses a gentle kiss to
my lips. The elevator opens and we step out. I slide my hands from under
his sweater and lace our fingers together instead. We walk in silence to his
apartment, and Dan holds the door open for me.
“So. Bubble bath, then dinner?”
“Sounds lovely.” I smile, hanging our coats up. “But after dinner, I want
you to show me your telescope.”
He lifts his hand, squeezing the back of his neck. “You really want to?”
I nod. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me about it before last night.” His
fascination with space was something I knew, but the fact that he has a
telescope? I didn’t know until now. And I’m ridiculously excited to view
what he sees when he looks into the night sky.
“We’ll have to drive a bit to get away from the city lights.”
“Then let’s skip the bath and eat quickly. I want to see the stars.”
“Oh, I’ll show you stars,” he mockingly growls, dropping his hand and
strutting over to me. “All the stars, baby.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh God, no. You are definitely not cut out for slimy
flirting. Please, just stop.”
“I thought that was a good line.” He pouts, but it quickly turns into a grin.
I pat his arm, shaking my head. “Not even a little.”
 “Fine.” He huffs, turning to open the fridge. “Okay, dinner options.
We’ve got leftover Thai from last night, or I can whip up some chicken and
pasta.”
“Leftovers are fine.”
We move around each other in an easy silence, getting down plates,
reheating food, and eating as if we’ve shared a thousand meals before. And
I suppose, in a way, we have. When we were just friends we would eat
together. But it’s so much more now. We are so much more.
And later, when we reach the lookout high up on one of the local
mountains, Dan cements his place in my heart.
“What am I looking at?” I ask, peering through the eyepiece of the
telescope. He spent forever getting it lined up on something in particular but
wouldn’t tell me what it was.
He clears his throat, and I glance up at him. “That’s, ah, that’s my star.”
“What do you mean, your star?” I ask. He looks up at the sky, then back
at me, a soft smile on his face.
“You can buy and name your own star. I bought that one two years ago.”
“What did you name it?”
His eyes move down to the ground, and he shifts from side to side as if
he’s nervous.
“Um.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Dan?”
“I named it Birdie.” He says it so quietly, at first, I think I heard wrong.
Then he lifts his head, and I see the truth shining in his eyes.
“Birdie, because I bought it for you.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Eight

Monty
“I swear to God, Dan Montgomery, if you throw that snowball, you’re not
getting sex for a week!”
“It’s cute you think that you sound threatening, Birdie. We both know you
wouldn’t last a day without needing some double D.” I throw in a wink for
good measure and continue to smooth the snow I’m holding into a ball.
“Double D? Are you serious?”
“Dan’s Dick. It’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” I cock my head to the
side and move my arm back into a throwing position. “Now, hold still so I
don’t miss.”
She shrieks as I let the snow fly, but I purposefully aim for the ground in
front of her. I burst out laughing as she glares at me, then… “Oh shit.”
I duck into the trees as a snowball is fired my way but goes wild. “We
gotta work on your arm, babe,” I call out, gathering up more snow. I peek
around the tree, only to get hit in the face with cold, wet snow. “Damn it.”
Lark’s laughter is a lot closer than I anticipated. “How the hell did you
sneak up on me, woman?”
“Revenge is sweet,” she answers, reaching up to brush snow off my
chest. “Truce? I’m cold.”
Nodding, I return the favour, dusting snow off her toque. “Truce. Want to
head back and warm up?”
 When Lark suggested we head up one of the local mountains to go
snowshoeing, it was an immediate yes. The best part of living in Vancouver
is the proximity to activities like this. My mind has already jumped ahead to
next fall, when we can come back and hike this mountain.
After the Tridents win the championship, of course.
It’s called manifesting.
We turn and make our way back along the snowshoe trail that leads to the
ski lodge. It’s nice and quiet on the mountain today, with most people
already back to work and not out enjoying the winter weather. For most of
the trek, the trail is wide enough for us to walk side by side, and I love
holding Lark’s hand, even through winter gloves. This shit never gets old.
Having her with me, free to be affectionate, not needing to hide my
feelings. It’s almost — almost — better than sex.
Nah, who am I kidding? It’s nowhere close. Sex with Lark is fucking life-
changing. Earth shattering. Best. Feeling. Ever.
The first few days after popping my cherry, we were insatiable.
Thankfully, Lark’s desire was just as intense as mine, or I might have felt a
little guilty for how often I wanted her. Then again, I made damn sure she
got off every fucking time, so maybe the guilt is misplaced.
Even now, over two weeks later, I can’t stop wanting her. But moments
like this, when we can just be, help ease the ache.
We reach the lodge, and I bend down to help unstrap her snowshoes.
Glancing up from my crouch, I catch her staring back at me, love shining
from her eyes.
“You’re a goner for me, Lark Miller.” I wink, loving the way she blushes.
“Pointing out the obvious isn’t all that charming, you know.”
I stand up, her snowshoes in hand, and arch my brow. “Excuse you, I’m
exceedingly charming.”
All that gets me is an eye roll. “When you’re not making obnoxious jokes
about your double D, maybe.” She’s fighting back a smile.
Leaning in, I kiss her nose, which is red and icy cold under my lips.
“Good thing you love me anyway.”
Her arms are around me in an instant, pulling me tight. “I do, I really do.”
We stay there, right in front of the ski lodge, for a minute or two. Until
the cold air seeps in, making us all the more freezing now that we aren’t
moving.
 Reluctantly, I pull back and drape my arm over her shoulders to steer her
toward the door. “Come on, Birdie. Let me buy you a fancy hot chocolate.”
The interior of the lodge is impressive, with vaulted ceilings, lots of
windows, and plenty of comfortable seating. We find a couch near a large
fireplace, surrounded by rocks that go all the way to the top of the building.
There’s a nice fire crackling away, giving off some welcome heat.
We discard our coats, and I gesture to the nearby café. “I’ll be right back
with drinks.” Lark nods and sits down, removing her boots so she can tuck
her feet underneath.
While I wait at the counter, I can’t stop looking back at her. She’s so
damn pretty, but it’s more than that. She’s had my heart for years, without
even knowing it.
The guys all gave me shit when I got my tattoo, but I didn’t care. Because
somewhere along the way, Lark became more than just the woman who
stole my heart. She became my best friend.
The barista sets the hot chocolates down on the counter, and I take them
with a smile after dropping a bill in the tip jar. Picking up the two mugs, I
turn and find Lark looking at me.
Closing the distance between us quickly, I bend down and meet her
upturned lips with a kiss. “Good, you’re not an icicle anymore.” I sit down
and hand her one of the mugs. “I asked for extra marshmallows.”
Lark lets out a happy hum and inhales the sweet aroma coming from the
mug. “Perfect.”
Draping one of my arms along the back of the couch, I toy with the end
of Lark’s blond hair, tied back in a braid. “Do you know how to ski?” I ask
as I watch a couple walk in with ski helmets under their arms.
She shakes her head. “No, I always wanted to learn, but it wasn’t an
approved activity in my house.”
“That’s some bullshit.” I snort. “What was considered appropriate for the
Miller family?”
Lark looks up at the ceiling and shifts closer to me. “Ballet, which I
hated. Swimming, which was okay, but not my favourite. I begged my
parents to let me try gymnastics, did that for a couple of years, but I wasn’t
very good. It was one of my nannies that helped convince Mom and Dad to
let me try out for a soccer team, and that’s where I found my passion.”
I lean forward, fascinated. “How did I not know you played soccer?”
 She shrugs, looking down at her hot chocolate, now empty. “I don’t talk
about it a lot. But yeah, I played all the way through high school. Even got
scouted by a university down in California, but Mom and Dad said no.”
I scoff. “Seriously?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I blew out my knee in a spring
training camp my senior year. That ended my soccer career pretty quick.”
“Damn, Birdie. I’m sorry.” I pull her into my chest, pressing a kiss to the
top of her head. “That’s shitty.”
She nods, and I hear her sniff. “Yeah, it was. But my high school coach is
the one who convinced me to get my kinesiology degree, so I guess it
wasn’t a complete loss. After all, if I had kept playing soccer, I might not be
here.”
My arms tighten around her. “In that case, is it bad for me to say I’m glad
you injured your knee?”
Her laugh reassures me the conversation hasn’t been a total downer.
“Nah, it’s okay. You can say that.”
“So how did your parents handle the end of your soccer stardom?”
“They couldn’t have cared less.”
I push back, tilting her chin up so I can look her in the eye. “Excuse me,
what?”
Lark’s cheeks darken, and I hate the idea she might be embarrassed, but I
have to know what she means.
“I think they only ever came to maybe two or three games. The
championships, mostly. They didn’t have the time, and heaven forbid if it
was raining.” Sarcasm drips from her voice.
“That is complete bullshit.” I’m outraged on her behalf. “I’m sorry,
Birdie. I would have come to every single fucking game and cheered you
on so loud.”
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s a start. “I know you would
have. You’ll be a great dad someday.”
Dad.
That’s something I rarely think about. Having kids someday. Kind of hard
to do when you aren’t having sex, after all.
But now? The idea of having a family with Lark one day doesn’t freak
me out. Quite the opposite.
“Our kids would be badasses. They’d dominate the sports field.” The
words fall out of my mouth before I can think about how it might sound to
say our kids.
“Oh really?” Lark laughs. “And what if they don’t like sports? What if
they’d rather read or draw.”
“That’s totally cool, too,” I reply, warming up to the conversation. I can
see little blond girls racing around and brown-haired boys hugging their
mom as tightly as I do. “I don’t care what my future kids want to do with
their lives as long as they’re happy.”
“Same,” she says with a happy sigh. “Do you want a lot of kids?”
“Honestly? I’ve never thought about it. But yeah, I think a big family
would be cool. Just not until I’m done playing ball,” I say firmly.
“Why’s that?” Lark asks, without a hint of judgment.
I pause, considering my answer.
“Reality is, as a catcher, I have maybe five or six more years before my
knees start to give me trouble. And if I want to be an involved dad who can
run around with his kids and do fun stuff with them, I don’t want to be a
cripple from more than a decade of catching in the big leagues. Plus, if I
wait till I’m retired, I’ll have time. And I won’t be gone half the year. My
mom and dad were always there for me, and I want to give the same to my
kids.”
I sense her move her head, and when I glance down, she’s looking back
up at me.
“That’s incredibly thoughtful for something you haven’t considered
before.”
I give her a bashful grin. “Well, if I’m lucky enough to have kids with a
woman I love, I want to do it right.”
Lark stretches up and kisses my chin. “She’d be a lucky woman.”
I adjust and kiss her lips. “Yeah? Know anyone who might want the job?”
She giggles against my lips. “Maybe. Ask me in five years when you
retire.”
I grin at the thought of Lark and I still together in five years. “Deal.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty-Nine

Monty
“Didn’t your mama teach you that your face is gonna get stuck like that if
you keep smilin’ so hard?”
I turn to see Darling jogging up to me in the parking lot and shrug.
“Life’s good, man, gotta smile.”
He drapes his arm over my shoulder and we head into the indoor sports
facility where Grayson’s baseball league runs some winter clinics. During
our last afternoon together, the kid turned on the most epic set of puppy dog
eyes and practically begged me to see if I could get a couple of the guys
together to attend one of the workshop days.
Listen, I’m a sucker for puppy dog eyes. Been known to use them a time
or two myself. They’re a powerful weapon.
Luckily, Darling and Yami were both free this afternoon and happy to
help out.
When we get inside, Yami’s already there, chatting with a couple of the
coaches who are staring at him with stars in their eyes. It’s still weird to me,
the fact that people see us as celebrities.
We’re just dudes who like to play ball and happen to get paid a boatload
of money to do so.
With Darling’s and my arrival, the excitement ratchets up even higher. I
spot Grayson standing with some other boys, and the second he sees me, a
goofy grin crosses his face. I give him a head nod, letting him decide how
to play it. Sometimes he’s fine with kids knowing I’m his Big Brother,
sometimes he isn’t.
“Hey, Monty! You’re here. Cool. Think Yami will help me with my
slider? Oh, and Marcus wants to be our catcher next season, so maybe you
could help him out?”
“Dude, slow down. We’ll do whatever your coaches want us to, okay?” I
hold back my chuckle at his eager greeting. His face falls, but only slightly,
before brightening again.
“Sure. Cool. Hey, did you see we got new team bats?”
Yeah, I saw, because I donated them… But I don’t tell him that. Instead, I
let him lead me over and pretend to be super impressed by the bats.
Eventually, the coaches call everyone over, introduce us — which really
isn’t necessary with this crowd — and we split into groups. Yami and I are
paired up, of course, and that’s when the fun begins.
“You better call some good pitches today or I’m throwing nothing but
knuckleballs,” Yami calls out as he walks to the middle of the space we’ve
taken over. The kids all titter with laughter as I tilt my mask up and glare at
my pitcher.
“Listen, buddy, it’s not my fault you can’t see far enough to catch my
signals. Better get your eyes checked before spring training.”
Yami grins. I drop my mask and crouch down, smacking my glove with a
fist.
“Okay, boys. Let’s start things off nice and easy.” He holds up the ball,
demonstrating his finger placement. “When you want to throw a slider, it’s
important you remember three things: two seam grip, pressure from the
middle finger, and karate chop.”
He lets the ball fly and it lands straight in my glove.
“But sometimes, you plan a slider, and it turns into a curve. Which, if
your catcher isn’t ready, can be a disaster.” He leans back and throws, and
fucking hell, I’m not ready. But I still make the catch.
“Thought we agreed you’d leave the bad pitches at home,” I call out as I
throw the ball back to him.
“I did, but they missed me. Guess they followed me here.”
Our banter has the kids laughing, but also paying close attention. I see
Grayson’s gaze locked on Yami, his intense focus mixing with open
admiration.
 After showing them a few more pitches, Yami and I split up and each take
half of our group to work on specific skills. I love working with kids,
they’re so eager to learn, and goofy with their enthusiasm. Pretty soon, I’ve
got them practicing their pop-ups from a squat position to throw position,
seeing who can go the fastest. Then we pull out some irregular-shaped balls
that bounce all over the place so they can practice catching unpredictable
throws.
The two-hour clinic is over way too soon. Even after lingering for another
half hour signing hats, shirts, and taking photographs, it’s clear none of us
want to leave. It’s been too much fun.
But Lark’s waiting for me at home and fuck, do I ever want to get back to
her.
I walk Grayson out to his mom’s car, and he surprises me by wrapping
his arms around me for a hug, even with some of his teammates still
walking by.
“Thanks, Monty,” he mumbles into my shirt. I can see his mom smiling at
us from inside her car as I hug him back.
“Hey, anytime, buddy. You know that. If I’m available, I love helping
out.”
He looks up at me, nervous hope written all over his face. “Do you think I
might make it to the major leagues someday?”
Oh, my little dude. His question wrenches at my heart. Surprisingly, it’s
the first time he’s ever asked. And I don’t know what to say. So I fall back
on what my Little League coach said to me when I was a little bit older than
Grayson.
“I think if you keep focused and try your hardest to always improve your
game, physically and mentally, you can do anything. But I also think it’s
important to have something else in your life that you love, not just
baseball. Because sometimes, no matter how hard you work, it just isn’t
meant to be. And that’s okay, too.”
“You had your space stuff, right? You were gonna go work for NASA?”
I chuckle, remembering how naive I was as a teenager, thinking it would
be that simple. To simply want to work for NASA. “Yeah, I had my space
stuff.”
He nods slowly. “Cool. I like biology, learning about the inside of our
bodies and stuff. It’s gross, but cool.”
 “Totally gross but totally cool,” I agree. “And a great thing to continue
learning about. It’ll help your game, too, if you understand muscles and
bones and how our bodies work.”
“’Kay. I gotta go. See you next week?”
I lift my hand up and he slaps it with his. “You bet. Bye, Gray.”
A few minutes later, I’m driving home, drumming my hands on the
steering wheel in time to the music pumping through my speakers. But just
as it gets to the good part, the song is interrupted with an incoming call
from Rocky.
“Monty, my man. How’s it goin’?” His voice booms out, and I wince,
turning down the volume.
“Can’t complain,” I say cheerfully. “What’s up?”
“Listen. You should know there’s some chatter in a few gossip rags about
you and the trainer. Nothing bad, just speculation about the two of you, how
it’ll affect your game. You know not to read anything into it, but I gotta do
my job and check in. This thing with her. It’s serious?”
I clench the steering wheel and my jaw, my previous good mood
evaporating just like that. Fuck. I don’t know how I didn’t anticipate this.
Of course, somehow, the media would find out about me and Lark and put a
shitty spin on it. Just because I’ve never had any negative issues with the
press before doesn’t mean I’m immune to it.
“What are they saying, Rocky?” I grind out.
“Nothing that matters,” he says, and I know he’s trying to calm me down.
“Seriously. I’d tell you if I thought it was something we had to address, but
it isn’t and we don’t. But in all the years we’ve been working together,
you’ve never once been seen with a woman.” There’s a pause. “Honestly?
Not that it matters, but I was kind of thinking you weren’t into women.
Which is sorta something I should know as your agent, but also, at the same
time, is none of my — or the world’s — goddamn business. But I digress.
You and this woman.”
“Lark. Her name is Lark,” I interject, still holding the steering wheel in a
death grip. “And yes, it’s serious.”
Rocky’s silent for a second. “Okay, noted. All I’m gonna say is,
remember your goals. Unless you’re really fucking good at keeping secrets,
this is the first relationship you’ve juggled along with playing in the big
leagues. The pressure of managing both can be a lot. And the last thing I
want is for you to lose focus this upcoming season when you’ve got so
much on the line.”
He means well. I know he does. But that does nothing to quell the anger
building inside of me at the very thought that being with Lark could be
anything but amazing.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. If you say so. That’s all I wanted to check in on. I’m off to Santa
Barbara for a few days to scout out some new kid. Talk later.”
We hang up, and I stew in my thoughts the rest of the drive home.
Of course, everything will be fine. If I managed to stay focused on my
career this long, finally getting the woman of my dreams isn’t going to
knock me off course.
I was able to rise to the top, all while pining after someone I thought I
would never have. Surely, now that she’s mine, if anything, it’ll be easier to
concentrate.
Right?

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty

Lark
“You’re gonna give your mail carrier a complex if you keep looking so
depressed every time you see them.” Willow hands me a glass of wine, and
despite her teasing, there’s a sympathetic smile on her face.
I groan. “I know, I just can’t believe it’s taking this long.”
My acceptance letter for the internship at the university still has not
arrived. It’s hard to stay optimistic when I had expected to hear just after
Christmas, and it’s now the end of January. Spring training is right around
the corner, and then the season will begin. If I’m going to be asking for time
off next fall, I need to be letting the team know soon so they can find a
temporary replacement for me. Just because it’ll be the offseason doesn’t
mean there won’t be players needing treatment, to say nothing of us making
the playoffs. Then I’ll be trying to juggle the internship and my job. Which
isn’t ideal, but Mattias said he would help make it work.
“They’d be fools not to take you on. Remind me what it’s for?”
“It’s a three-month internship working in the sports rehab lab at the
University of Vancouver. They have a research project going on right now
looking to map muscle health in professional athletes, to try and determine
how to best prevent and treat muscle decline. The hope is to be better able
to prevent joint injuries by understanding why our muscles age and decline
the way they do, even in professional athletes.” I rattle off the explanation
with ease, having studied the research project’s material a thousand times.
But when I look at Willow, she’s got a blank expression on her face.
I sigh and try again. “It’s a research project to help find a way to prevent
injuries by studying the muscles of athletes.”
“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say that the first time?” She nudges me with a
smile.
“You work in the pro sports field. Shouldn’t you be able to understand the
rehab side of it a bit better?” I tease.
“Nah, all I need to know for my job is what they injured and how long
they’re out.”
I shake my head and take a sip of wine. “Fair enough.”
“So.” Willow looks at me expectantly. I know exactly what she wants to
talk about but I pretend not to.
“What?”
Her eyes couldn’t possibly roll back any farther. “Oh my God, don’t be a
tease. You know what! You and Monty. How’s it going? I need details,
woman.”
I take another sip, and try to look cool, calm, and collected. “A lady never
kisses and tells.”
Willow knows me too well and just snorts. “You’re not a lady, you’re
Lark. So spill.”
“Fine, fine. He’s amazing, and I had no idea I could be this happy.”
I watch closely as Willow sets down her wine glass far too calmly. I hurry
to set mine down, too, fully aware she’s not going to accept that. Sure
enough, out of nowhere she grabs a throw pillow and whips it at my head.
I shriek, blocking the pillow. “Okay, geez!” When I look at her again,
she’s got a far too pleased expression on her face. “You’re relentless.”
“I know. Now, go on.”
Here’s the thing. I’d love to tell Willow everything. She’s my closest
female friend, and we don’t keep secrets. I knew about her and Ronan
before anyone else. But telling her about Dan being a virgin up until being
with me feels like I’d be betraying his secrets, not my own. Which means,
I’ve got to tread carefully.
“He really is amazing, Wills. It’s like all the goodness in him is amplified
by a thousand now. His hugs are magic, and when I’m with him, I feel so
cherished. Did you know he has a tattoo on his hip? Of a skylark?”
 Willow swoons against the couch. “No way. That’s the most adorably
cheesy romantic thing ever.” She bolts back upright. “And so perfectly
Monty. I love it.” She grabs my hands. “You deserve that kind of love, Lark.
He truly adores you.”
I nod. “He does, and I love him.”
“Gah, I’m so happy for you.” Willow drains her glass and gestures to
mine. “Want a refill?”
My nose wrinkles. “Nah, I’m not even sure I’ll finish this. My stomach
hasn’t been feeling great lately.”
“Okay.” She stands up and goes to the kitchen, coming back with a fresh
glass of wine for herself. “How’s the sex?”
“Really, really good.” I smile, because it’s the truth. What he lacks in
experience, Dan makes up for with enthusiasm and a willingness to learn.
He listens to me and pays such close attention to my body, I swear, he
already knows it better than Baron ever did, even after several years
together.
“That’s not a surprise.” Willow waggles his eyebrows. “All that
cinnamon roll, golden retriever energy? He’s gotta be fun in bed.”
The sound of my front door opening has both of us turning. Dan walks in,
wearing a Tridents hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. My gaze drops
immediately to the front of his pants.
“And that’s my cue to leave.”
I blink and look over at Willow to see her amused grin. “What? Why?”
“Because he’s here and you’re drooling.” She stands up and walks over to
Dan, giving him a quick hug. “See ya later, Monty. Take care of her.”
His gaze is trained on me, and I can already see the lust burning in his
eyes. “Don’t worry, I will.”
He breaks our stare to walk Willow to the door, closing and locking it
behind her.
“What were you two talking about, Birdie? You look a little flushed.”
My tongue darts out to lick my lips as he prowls around the couch and
squats down in front of me, his hands coming to my knees. “Oh, just girl
stuff,” I say faintly, my focus zeroing in on his thumbs that are drawing lazy
circles on my inner thighs.
“Hmm. Girl stuff. Right.”
He surges upward, kissing me and pressing me against the couch, his
hands bracing on either side of me.
 “You were talking about me, weren’t you Birdie.”
The words are conversational, casual even. But his voice is anything but.
Rich, sultry, and promising a hell of a lot of pleasure. I bite my lower lip,
trying to look coy, but I don’t know if I pull it off. Given the smirk Dan
shoots me, I probably don’t.
“Maybe I was. Is that a problem?”
His head moves slowly from side to side. “Not at all, as long as you’re
saying good stuff.” A thread of vulnerability pokes through his sexy
bravado, and I bring my hand up to cup his cheek.
“Very good stuff.” I lean in and kiss him. With a groan, he wraps one arm
around me, pulling me almost off the couch.
“Jesus, am I ever gonna stop wanting you?” he rasps before kissing his
way down my throat. “I can’t stop thinking about you, about us, about how
fucking good you make me feel.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I say, tipping my head to the side. He
chuckles against my skin, then lifts his head, fixing me with his molten
chocolate stare.
“Right now, it’s not. But when the season starts, you know I’ll have to be
focused on the game, right?”
Again, that tiny bit of vulnerability shows through. I love that he’s
comfortable enough with me not to hide it. I nod and kiss his cheek.
“I know what your job needs from you, Dan, and you know I’ll be there
supporting you the whole time.”
“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers. “But you’ll be even more perfect
once you’re naked.”
He stands up and strips out of his own clothes so quickly I feel like I
barely blink and then, there he is, in all his naked glory. His cock is already
leaking precum, and I lean forward and lap at it with my tongue.
That makes him groan as he wraps one hand around the base and threads
the other in my hair. “Baby, as much as I want your mouth on my dick
literally all the fucking time, right now, I need to be inside of you.”
Despite being insanely turned on, I can’t quite stifle a yawn. Dan catches
it and frowns. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. You want to just go to bed
and snuggle?”
“Absolutely not,” I say in mock outrage. Then I lift my sweater up and
over my head, tossing it to the ground before reaching behind my back and
unclasping my bra. I let it dangle from my hand for a second before
dropping it to the ground as well.
Dan drops to his knees and grips the waist of my joggers before slowly
easing them down. I lift my ass off the couch to help, and he peels them off
my legs before running his hands back up, raising goose bumps everywhere
he touches.
“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “Like, everywhere. It sounds dumb, but I
didn’t realize you’d be so soft.”
These little reminders of his previous innocence make me melt.
“And you’re hard,” I say, leaning forward to kiss him as I reach down for
his cock. “It’s the perfect combination,” I whisper against his lips, feeling
them turn up in a smile.
“It really is.” His fingers find my pussy, flicking lightly at my clit before
slowly dragging between my wet lips. “Mmm. You’re soaked, Birdie.”
I nod, biting back a whine. His confidence in taking the lead has grown
incredibly quickly, but there are times when I wish he’d stop taking his time
and just fuck me. I haven’t come out and said that yet, not wanting him to
think I don’t love it when he wants to play first.
Thank God, today isn’t one of those times. Dan steps up and pulls me to
stand before spinning me around. “Put your knees on the couch. That’s it,
grab the back, baby. Fuck, yes.” I move the way he tells me to until I’m on
my knees, pushing my ass out toward him.
Hands grip me firmly, kneading the flesh just before I feel him take a
bite.
“Dan!” I yelp, twisting to look at him. “Did you just bite me?”
His grin is unrepentant. “Sure did. Delicious and juicy.”
I shake with laughter that dies instantly when his fingers find my pussy
again, and he thrusts two of them in with no further warning. “Ohhh,” I
moan, arching back into his touch. “Yes.”
Lips land on my spine, and I feel him press against me. Then his mouth
pauses. “Shit. Condom.”
This time, my whimper breaks free. “Bedroom. Hurry.”
There’s a cold draft as he leaves, and my hand drifts down between my
legs.
“Oh really?” His amused voice has me lifting my head to see him staring
intently at my fingers, his long cock now covered in a condom. “You think
you get to play with what’s mine?”
 “Well, you weren’t here to do it,” I reply saucily.
He raises one brow and circles around behind me. Then my hand is
pushed away and replaced by his mouth. He sucks my clit into his mouth,
his tongue snaking out to play with it. But just as I feel my release cresting,
he lets go, and I cry out. “What? No! Go back!”
Dan just chuckles. “Don’t worry, Birdie. I’ve got you.”
I feel his blunt tip nudge my entrance, and then he slides it back and
forth, collecting moisture before slowly pushing inside.
“Oh yes,” I moan, my eyes closing as I lean my head down on the back of
the couch. Dan sets a slow and steady rhythm, rocking me back and forth.
His hand gathers my hair, and he gently tugs my head, making me lift it so
he can lean down and kiss me. It’s messy, sloppy, and so damn hot.
“Fuck,” he grinds out, dragging his dick out slowly before slamming it
back in. “So good, baby. So fucking good.”
It is good. But I need more. My hand moves to reach back down to play
with my clit, and he pauses.
“What are you doing?” he growls.
“I need…I need to…my clit,” I gasp.
“Let me.”
Instead of thumbing my clit, I reach my hand behind me to run along his
strong thighs. He curls over me, and his hand finds where we’re joined.
When he pinches my hood, I wince.
“Too strong.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, kissing my back. “Better?”
I nod dreamily as he eases off into steady circles. “Oh yeah.”
“Fuck, I need to see you.” Dan pulls out and drops down onto the couch
before grabbing me by my waist and lifting me onto his lap. I reach down
and take his cock, lining it up and sinking down with a satisfied groan.
“That’s better. Look at you. So fucking gorgeous.”
I smile and take his hand, leading it back down between us. He gets the
message and returns to playing with my clit as we kiss, our hips moving in
perfect sync.
“Fuck, Dan,” I pant as I feel my climax building. “Faster. Please.”
“I’m there, baby,” he grunts, letting go of my clit to grip my hips and
rock us faster. But I need that stimulation. This time when I reach down
myself he doesn’t stop me.
 Our eyes lock and my mouth falls open just as I feel his hips shudder.
“Yes,” I cry out as my orgasm washes over me. Dan follows, groaning out
my name as he thrusts up into me shakily.
I collapse onto his chest, feeling incredibly satisfied and incredibly
sleepy. Lips press to my forehead.
“I’m gonna go deal with the condom.”
I nod, my eyes still closed, perfectly content to let him lift me off his lap
and set me down on the couch.
“Mmmkay.”
“You gonna fall asleep on me, Birdie?” he says with a chuckle, and I
smile.
“Nah. We’re gonna snuggle.”
The last thing I remember before waking up in my bed the next morning,
Dan wrapped around me from behind, is hearing that chuckle again and
feeling lips pressing a soft, loving kiss to my forehead.

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 Chapter Thirty-One

Monty
I stroke Lark’s hair away from her face, unable to ignore how worried I
am any longer. We should be heading to the airport together this morning,
bound for Arizona and spring training. But Lark’s been feeling under the
weather for a week or so and threw up a couple of times yesterday. So she’s
staying home and going to the doctor later this week instead. The plan is for
her to fly out with the rest of the team that starts training next week. This
week it’s just pitchers and catchers.
I’m hoping she’ll feel better and can make the trip down south. Because
the idea of being away from her, even for a short while, physically hurts my
chest.
“Hey, Birdie, I gotta go,” I say softly, bending down to kiss her forehead.
Her eyes slowly flutter open, but it’s the dark circles underneath those
beautiful baby blues that have me concerned. She’s been sleeping like the
dead, barely making it to nine most nights before I’m tucking her in bed.
Something’s not right, and it’s freaking me out.
“Do you want me to drive you to the airport?” she asks sleepily, covering
her yawn with her hand.
“Nah, stay here and rest. I’ll get one of the guys to pick me up. You see
the doctor on Thursday, right? I know we’ll be talking before then, but you
better let me know what they say as soon as you can.”
 She nods. “I will, but it’s just a virus, I’m sure. I hope you don’t come
down with it.”
I thump my chest lightly with my fist. “My immune system is strong. I’ll
be fine.” I don’t tell her that if it were a virus, she’d be getting better by
now. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, a milkshake?”
She gives me a small smile. “Some coffee would be amazing.”
I lean down again and kiss the tip of her nose. “Coming right up.”
Out in the kitchen, I shoot off a message to Yami asking for a lift to the
airport, then busy myself making Lark some coffee. Grabbing the stack of
sticky notes on the counter, I scribble out a message and hide it in the
cupboard that holds the mugs. When her coffee is ready, I carry it back into
the bedroom to find her curled up on her side, holding her stomach
protectively.
“Baby, are you okay?” I set the coffee down and crouch beside her.
Her face is so pale and drawn, but she manages a nod. “Yeah, I tried to
get up and my stomach revolted on me. I’m better now that I’m lying
down.”
I blow out a long sigh. “Fuck, I hate that I have to leave you like this.”
She reaches out a hand and pats my shoulder lightly, mustering a tiny
smile. “I’ll be okay, Dan. It’s not the first time I’ve been sick.”
“Maybe so, but it’s the first time you’ve been sick when I’ve been the one
who gets to take care of you, and here I am, failing that job by abandoning
you.” I give her an exaggerated pout, and it earns me a slightly bigger
smile.
“Daniel Montgomery, you’re not abandoning me, you have to go to
spring training. Besides, I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days. The doctor will
clear me, and I’ll be on the plane to Arizona with the rest of the team to join
you.”
I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m holding you to that, Birdie.” My
pocket vibrates with a text, probably Yami letting me know he’s on his way.
“Shit, I gotta go.” I drop my forehead to meet hers, and her hand snakes
around the back of my neck, holding me there. “I love you.”
“I know.”
The Star Wars reference makes me grin, just as it does every time. But
her answering smile is way too small and pathetic looking. I smooth her
hair back, worry filling my head and heart.
 Another buzz from my phone means my time is up. Somehow, I drag
myself away, looking back at her when I reach the doorway. Fuck, I really
hate leaving her like this. But I don’t have a choice. Turning, I move into
her living room, grab my bag and the handle of my suitcase and leave,
locking the door behind me.
Yami’s waiting downstairs, his low-slung sports car idling at the curb. I
load my stuff in the trunk and then get in.
“Hey, thanks for the ride.”
“No prob. Lark’s still not feeling great?” he asks, concern clear on his
face as well. All the guys like Lark, and strangely, it makes me feel better
knowing I’m not the only one worried. She doesn’t get sick. At least, she
hasn’t in the years I’ve known her.
“Yeah, she’s seeing her doctor later this week. It’s weird, she’s just so
tired all the time, and her stomach is upset. I dunno, I just don’t like seeing
her sick.” I slump against the seat of the car. We’re stopped at a red light,
and I can feel him looking at me. Glancing over, I see a weird look on his
face.
“What’s that look for?”
His head turns forward. “What look?”
“The one where you look like you just swallowed pickle juice.”
“Nothing, nothing. Hey, did you hear about one of the rookie’s
superstitions? He doesn’t change socks all fucking season. We’re gonna
need some heavy-duty air freshener in the locker room.” He wrinkles his
nose.
“That’s nasty.”
“No shit. Anyway, hopefully, Lark can head south soon. My shoulder’s
gonna need her magic hands.” He waves one of his in my face and I slap it
away.
“Just keep your hands to yourself,” I say, probably more harshly than I
need to. Yami immediately sobers and cuts me a look.
“Monty. Dude. You know I’d never do that. She’s your girl, always has
been. No matter what happens.”
The weird defensive tension in my shoulders recedes. I’ve never felt this
kind of possessiveness, not even in the past over Lark. I mean, I guess I had
no right to, back when she belonged to someone else. But now, everything’s
changed. She’s mine, and despite knowing the guys all respect that, some
instinct has me on edge.
 It’s not fair to take that out on my teammate, though. We’re partners, and
the next few weeks in Arizona will be pivotal. We’re heading down a week
before the rest of the team to get in some dedicated time on the mound.
“Sorry, man. Guess I’m just feeling a bit stressed leaving her when she’s
not feeling great.”
He gives a tight nod but doesn’t say anything.
The rest of the drive to the airport is spent talking about the new
prospects that will be at spring training. Our roster is solid, but some fresh
players can be a good thing. As long as they don’t mess with my game. I
need this season to be my best one yet.
As worried as I am about Lark, I know I can’t let anything distract me. As
soon as I get on that plane, it’s go time.
My future depends on my focus being locked in tight on playing the best
damn game I can.

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 Chapter Thirty-Two

Lark
You are my penguin
— Love DM
I love you more than I love spaghetti. And I love spaghetti a lot
— Love DM
You’re just like bacon. You make everything better.
— Love DM
Being normal is overrated. I’d rather be crazy over you.
— Love DM
I’ve fallen for you and I don’t want to get up.
— Love DM
The collection of sticky notes, each with a silly, sweet message from Dan,
grows each day as I discover them around my apartment. I don’t know
when he found the time to hide them, but each one has made me smile,
despite still feeling unwell.
We’ve talked every day since he left on Sunday, and so far, it sounds like
spring training is going well. He and Kai are in a good rhythm, and Dan
sounds excited about what’s to come.
I wish I was there.
Hopefully today, my doctor can explain why I’ve felt so run-down and
nauseous all the time. In the back of my mind, one explanation keeps
popping up, but I don’t — can’t — let myself dwell on that possibility.
When my phone rings, I reach for it, eager for the distraction. Anything to
fill the next hour before I leave for my appointment. But that eagerness
fades when I see who it is.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Lark, are you coming for dinner this weekend?”
No hi? How are you? I miss you? Nah, of course not. That would imply
caring and emotions my parents just don’t seem to have.
I swallow against a wave of nausea and lean against my kitchen counter.
“I’m not sure. I was meant to be in Arizona already, but I needed to stay
back for a doctor’s appointment.”
There’s a pause before she speaks, and to my shock, she actually sounds
mildly concerned. “Is everything alright?”
My mind battles with my heart. A small part of me wants to tell her, about
Dan, about feeling sick, and about the scary possibility the doctor is going
to tell me something life-changing. But I don’t have that sort of relationship
with her, and quite honestly, I don’t trust that she’ll respond with
compassion.
“Just need to get some stuff checked out,” I say lightly, pushing off from
the counter. “Actually, I need to get going soon. I’ll let you know if I’m in
town for dinner. Was there anything else?”
Another pause, this one longer than the last. “No, I suppose not. I hope
your appointment goes well.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, feeling kind of uncomfortable with this ever so
slightly softer side of my mother. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Goodbye, Lark.”
We hang up and I stare at my phone for a second, processing what just
happened. She actually showed some sort of something emotional toward
me. Unexpected, yes, and somewhat touching.
Shaking my head, I move into my bathroom to finish getting ready. When
I pull open a drawer to take out a hair elastic, I find another sticky note.
There’s nothing better than waking up with you in my arms.
— Love DM
I love that he’s made it so he’s here with me, even when he’s so far away.
I go to pick up my phone and text him when another wave of nausea hits,
this one stronger. Thank God, I’m already in the bathroom because I’m bent
over the toilet retching seconds later.
 When it finally subsides, I’m panting on the bathroom floor, feeling even
more miserable. This is awful, whatever it is.
I drag myself up, brush my teeth, and braid my hair. Time to get some
answers. Grabbing my water bottle, keys, purse, and a package of crackers,
I lock up and head to my car.
At the doctor’s office, they sign me in, then a nurse takes me to the back
and hands me a small cup.
“We’re going to get a quick urine sample and then Dr. Rhodes will be in
soon.” She gives me a reassuring smile, but as I stare at that plastic
container, I feel anything but reassured.
She directs me to the bathroom, and I move on autopilot. There’s no more
denying my fear. Nausea and exhaustion that won’t go away? There’s one
very real possibility for what’s causing it.
And a few minutes later, Dr. Rhodes confirms it.
“Lark, you’re pregnant.”

An hour later, I’m back home, staring at the pamphlets the doctor gave me
after dropping the bomb on me that I’m pregnant.
Somehow, Dan and I beat all the odds. Despite my birth control and the
condoms we used, something got through, and now there’s a baby growing
inside of me.
Our baby.
Dr. Rhodes gave me some information on early pregnancy, a prescription
for some anti-nausea medication, and then, I guess my shock — and lack of
immediate joy over the news — was apparent because she also gave me
some brochures on other options.
Abortion and adoption.
I’ve never been opposed to either. I firmly believe every woman has the
right to choose what is the best decision for them and their body. I also
never expected to be in a position where I would be considering either one.
But Dan made it clear, he doesn’t want kids right now. He needs to focus
on baseball, on his career, and on securing a good contract after this season.
Dr. Rhodes estimated my due date to be near the end of September but said
we could confirm with an ultrasound at my next appointment. I’m
approximately six weeks along, assuming this little bean was conceived that
first time when the condom slipped, which makes the most sense.
Who am I kidding, none of this makes sense. The odds are a zillion to
one, and yet, here I am, staring at pamphlets on babies while one’s inside of
me right this very second.
A little spark of life that defied the odds. A life that is a perfect blend of
me and the man I love.
My hands go to my stomach, and a smile creeps across my face for the
first time since finding Dan’s latest love note this morning. And I know,
without a doubt, I’m keeping this baby.
Even if Dan decides he can’t be involved, that he has to put his career
first, I don’t care. I won’t force him to give up baseball. But I also won’t let
anyone force me to give up this baby.
Picking up my phone, I go to call him but stop myself. This isn’t the kind
of news I can drop on him over the phone. I actually don’t even know how
to start the conversation.
Hey, remember the first time you had sex with me, when you lost your
virginity? Guess what, your super sperm were just waiting for the chance to
create new life.
Yeah, that’ll go over well.
As I stare down at my phone, a notification pops up. An email about the
research internship at the university.
This time when my stomach twists, it’s not only from pregnancy
hormones. My breath is shaky as I click to open the email.
We are pleased to offer you placement in our fall internship program…
I can’t even continue reading. Tears start to fall from my eyes, landing on
my phone screen, blurring the words in front of me. I wipe them off the
phone and dash them away from my face, moving to lie down on my side.
One hand immediately goes to my stomach. To the life growing there. To
the child who has unknowingly turned everything in my world upside
down.
I don’t know what this means for me, for Dan, or for us.
But I do know, whatever happens, this baby will be loved.
Unconditionally.
Wholly.
Without question, or doubt, or expectation.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Three

Monty
For three days, I’ve been focused on baseball. Pitchers and catchers always
head south for spring training early since our dynamic is key on the field. If
we aren’t in sync, everything falls apart.
The Tridents like to focus on partnerships between catchers and pitchers,
believing a strong dynamic and communication is key on the field.
But even though Yami and I will most often be paired together, it’s
important I get to know all the pitchers since I’ll be catching for each of them
at some point in the season. Which means my days have been long, filled
with drills, sessions in the bullpen, and conditioning activities designed to
help us all connect.
I like the other guys, but Yami’s my boy. We’re close to capturing the
magic Pops and I used to have. And today, at the end of another long day
under the Arizona sun, I feel like we’re really clicking.
Except, Yami can’t seem to get his speed up to where it needs to be. And
it’s starting to mess with his head.
From my position behind home plate, I flash him the signal for a slider. He
lets it rip, and it hits my glove a few seconds later.
“Ninety-nine point seven. Let’s go again,” Coach shouts from the side. I
see Yami wince and know he’s not happy. Hopping up from my crouch, I jog
up to the mound and wrap my hand around his neck, pulling his head to mine.
 “Shake it off, bro. You know what you’re capable of. One-oh-three, baby. I
was there, and my hand felt the impact for days.”
“Why the fuck am I going so slow?” he mutters, eyes still downcast. “It’s
not the fucking yips, I kept up my conditioning all winter, so what gives?”
“It doesn’t matter. When the time comes, your arm will be on fucking fire. I
know it, Coach knows it. Send it with a changeup next, and we’ll get there.”
I thump him on the back, finally seeing a smile.
“Thanks, bro. Let’s do this.”
I jog back to my spot behind home and drop down. Pulling my mask over
my face, I give him the signal for a changeup.
This time, he lets it fucking fly.
“One-oh-one point two. Getting better. Three more, boys.”
Yami’s grin grows. I throw down a signal, and he lets it rip. We finish up
the session, and after a quick chat with Coach, head to the locker room.
“Fuck, Arizona is hot.” Warren, one of the rookie pitchers, drops down to
the bench in front of his locker with a groan. “I’m from Alaska, man. We
don’t do heat.”
I whip a towel at him with a grin. “Get used to it. We got four more weeks
here.”
He shoots me a half-hearted scowl. “I might melt. How am I gonna pitch if
my hand is slippery with sweat?”
His complaints are nothing new. Arizona is hot. But it’s only gonna get
hotter when we play down here during the season, so new guy better toughen
up.
“You’ll be lucky to throw a single game if you’re that much of a princess.
Hey, maybe that’s your nickname. Princess.” A deep voice comes from across
the locker room.
I glance over at Carter Jones, a second-string pitcher who joined the team
the season after I did. Not gonna lie, glad he said it so I didn’t have to.
“Jonesie is right,” Yami says, strolling in from the showers. “Toughen up,
Princess. This is the big leagues, and yeah, sometimes we play when the heat
makes you want to curl up and die. At least we aren’t freezing our asses off
on the ice like those hockey weirdos.”
I stifle a laugh. Yami’s dislike of hockey is infamous.
The rookie looks suitably chastised, and I almost feel sorry for the guy.
Moving over to sit next to him, I lean in. “Listen. You’ll adjust. Where did
you play before this?”
 He looks over at me, his face belligerent. Great. This guy’s gonna be fun.
“Nebraska, for college. It got hot but not seventh circle of hell.”
I nod, keeping my expression calm. Doesn’t this guy understand that
Arizona in February is nothing? Wait till it’s August and we’re down here, or
in Nevada, or hell, in Florida. Lots of places are hotter than this, and we’ll
play ball in all of them.
“At least we don’t play in the rain.” I give him a wide grin and stand up.
Some guys just want to complain, not realizing how goddamn lucky they are
to be here. Not me. I’ll play no matter what the weather is. Wind, rain, snow.
Okay, maybe not snow. Don’t wanna ruin my gear.
But I’ve never taken one day of my career for granted. Never complained
about the fucking weather, that’s for damn sure.
Once I’m dressed, I head out for the bus that’ll take us back to the hotel.
I’m eager to call Lark and see how the doctor visit went. Hopefully, she’ll
have good news and will be on the plane headed south in a couple of days.
As soon as I’m in my hotel room, I flop onto my stomach on the bed and
call her up on a video chat. The call connects, and there she is. My girl.
“Hey, beautiful.” I grin, unable to hold it back. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
My grin falters. Something’s not right. She keeps glancing to the side.
“Yeah? Great. So what did the doc say?”
Her eyes dart away, and she licks her lips. Shit.
“Birdie? Babe, you’re freaking me out.” Finally, she looks at me, and fuck
me, her eyes are shiny as if she’s about to cry. I scramble up to sit, panic
consuming me. “Lark. Talk to me.”
She smiles. But it’s fake, I can tell. “I’m fine, Dan. Really. It’s nothing
serious, and the doctor gave me some medicine to help settle my stomach. I’ll
be on the plane with the team.”
That news should have me feeling ecstatic. But I can’t seem to push past
the dread.
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me neither.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds. I hate this. I don’t know what’s
wrong, just that something is. I want to push her to tell me what’s going on.
But as I open my mouth to do just that, she cuts me off.
“I have to go, Sadie’s coming over for dinner and to help me pack. I’ll see
you soon, okay?”
I nod silently.
 “I love you, Dan.” At least this time, her smile seems a touch more genuine.
“I love you, too.”
She ends the call before I can say anything else, and I’m left staring at a
dark screen.
A fist pounds on my door, and I hear Jonesie’s voice shout through it.
“Monty! Let’s go, bro, Yami found a barbecue place we’re headed to for
dinner.”
I’m not even hungry. But somehow, I manage to drag myself up off the bed.
Grabbing a Tridents ball cap and pushing it on my head, I stuff my wallet and
phone in my pocket and open the door. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I brush past him, striding down the hall to the elevator.
“Dude. Everything okay?” he asks as the door slides shut in front of us. I
like Jonesie. But I sure as shit don’t know him well enough to talk to him
about Lark.
“Yeah, fine. Just tired.”
That seems to be good enough for him because he nods and leaves me
alone. Downstairs, we meet up with the rest of the guys, and head out for
dinner. Being around everyone helps take my mind off things for the most
part, and I try my best to focus on my teammates.
But later, when I’m lying in bed alone, there’s no avoiding my thoughts and
the mental panic spiral I’m trying to ignore.
Somewhere around 1 am, when sleep continues to evade me, I roll over and
thump my pillow with a grunt. Tomorrow is gonna suck donkey balls if I
don’t get any sleep.
Giving in, I grab my phone and open up my texts with Lark.
DAN: Baby, I know something’s wrong. I just hope whatever it
is, I can fix it. Because I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.
I’m not expecting her to reply, certain she’s asleep even though I’m an hour
ahead of her. But to my surprise, just as I’m about to set the phone down, I
see the three dots that indicate she’s typing. I sit upright, staring at the screen,
willing her reply to appear.
LARK: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. There’s nothing to
fix, I promise. I love you too.

It doesn’t tell me anything about what’s upsetting her. I debate calling her
and demand she tell me what’s going on. But it’s the middle of the night, and
we both need to try and sleep. Dragging in a deep breath, I try to convince my
brain that she means what she says, and I don’t have anything major to worry
about.
DAN: There’s a giant hug and even more giant kiss waiting for
you when you get here.

LARK: Oh yeah? How giant.

Finally, I crack a smile. There’s my Birdie.

DAN: As big as a baseball field.

LARK: Pffft that’s not so big.

DAN: Okay, as big as the night sky.

LARK: Wow, that’s big.

DAN: That’s what she said.

LARK: Omg.

DAN: Love you, Birdie.

LARK: Love you too.

This time, when I set my phone down and roll over, my eyes start to droop.
And finally, I drift off, visions of Lark lying in the bed beside me replace the
worry that’s consumed me all evening.
But sleep is short-lived. When I bolt upright a short while later, the room is
still dark. My heart is racing and my breath is coming fast. I feel clammy with
sweat, and the sheets are tangled around me.
Fuck, I haven’t had a nightmare since I was a kid, but there’s no denying
the unsettling feeling of waking up from one.
Reaching for the glass of water on my bedside table, I chug it down, letting
the cool liquid soothe me somewhat. I try to grasp onto the threads of the
dream that are fading fast but can’t. All I remember is the terrifying feeling
that everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve worked so hard for, is
slipping away from me.
And if I don’t run fast enough, I’ll lose it all.

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 Chapter Thirty-Four

Lark
The plane to Arizona is packed with boisterous baseball players.
Thankfully, they mostly leave me alone. I guess word of me feeling unwell
the last week or so has gotten around. I tuck myself into a window seat and
stare out at the clouds, my thoughts flipping between the unbridled joy I
feel, knowing I’m carrying a piece of Dan inside of me, and the sheer
overwhelm that crashes over me whenever I try to think through how to
handle this.
Telling him is only the first hurdle. He’s got to focus on his season, and if
this news distracts him to the point he doesn’t perform at his best, I’ll never
forgive myself.
Then there’s the sacrifice I’m going to have to make. I’m still struggling
to accept the fact that I have to turn down the internship at the university.
After all, there’s no chance I can participate in that while caring for a
newborn.
The voice of the players sitting behind me breaks through my thoughts. “I
heard the rookie’s got his nickname. Princess.” They both laugh at that, and
I can’t help but wonder what the new player did to earn that nickname from
the pitchers and catchers already on the ground in Phoenix.
“Sounds like things are good. But Jonesie said Yami’s struggling with his
speed, and Monty’s been distracted the last couple of days. Maybe the
dream team isn’t gonna happen.”
“Dude, shut up.”
I duck my head, a blush darkening my cheeks. Obviously, one of them
knows about my relationship with Dan and realized I could hear them. But
being caught unintentionally eavesdropping isn’t what has me biting my
thumb from nervousness.
Dan’s been distracted? Why? I know it’s not because of having to leave
me at home because the first few days he was away, he sounded confident
and happy when he reported training was going well.
But then there was our conversation the day I went to the doctor. He
could tell something was up, I know he could. I thought I had reassured him
well enough that it could wait until I arrived, but maybe I was wrong.
And if just the idea of big news is enough to distract him, how the hell
will he handle the actual news itself?
Oh God.
For the rest of the flight, I’m a nervous wreck. Thank goodness for the
medication the doctor gave me, which alleviated my morning sickness
symptoms quickly. If I had that on top of the anxious churning in my
stomach, I’d be turning the airplane restroom into my new home for the
remainder of the flight.
As it is, I pop a peppermint, roll on some lavender essential oil, and close
my eyes, trying to find some calm.
It doesn’t work, and two hours later when we touch down in Phoenix, I’m
feeling totally drained.
But then I walk into the blessedly air-conditioned Phoenix airport and see
Dan Montgomery standing there holding a huge sign with arrows pointing
toward him and massive letters that spell out “GUESS WHO’S EXCITED
TO SEE LARK? THIS GUY!”
It’s all I can do not to burst into tears at the sight of him. But in an effort
to try and hold it in, I come to a complete standstill, nowhere near close
enough to feel his arms wrap around me. Someone jostles me from behind
and I stumble forward. Dan’s grin falters. Then he drops his sign to the
ground and jogs over, and then finally, finally, I’m in his arms.
“Birdie. Hey, baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” He continues to mumble sweet
things as people stream around us. They’re probably staring at the crazy
lady being hugged by the hot baseball player, but I don’t care. I need this.
 After several moments just soaking up his strong, warm, loving embrace,
I sniff a few times and pull back, swiping away the tears.
“Hi,” I say, my voice all wobbly. “Sorry to be such a mess.”
He gives me a soft smile and tucks some hair behind my ears. “You’re
not a mess. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. And I’m so
fucking happy you’re here.” After pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips
lingering for a second longer, Dan tucks me into his side and grabs my
carry-on suitcase.
“Come on, we’ll Uber back to the hotel.”
I realize with some horror that thanks to my mini meltdown, the rest of
the team has already loaded onto the bus and I’m guessing left the airport. I
can only assume my luggage made it on as well.
“How did they know not to wait?” I say as we walk outside to the
rideshare area.
“I told Sin I’d be picking you up. He, ah, figured we might want some
time alone.” Dan ducks his head and I catch his blush.
Despite my emotional roller coaster, I giggle. “Why? It’s not like we’re
going to do anything in the back seat of an Uber.”
He casts me a sidelong glance. “I mean…we could.”
I slap his arm, laughing louder now. “Dream on. Besides, I’m all gross
from the flight.”
His lips land on my hair as he squeezes me tight. “Again, no you’re not.
You’re beautiful.”
I sigh happily, feeling a small amount of my turmoil settle. Even though
the clock is ticking, and I know he’s going to want to talk very soon, for
now, I can just enjoy being with him again. And pretend I’m not about to
turn everything upside down with my news.

My reprieve lasts only as long as the team dinner we both attend back at the
hotel. With everyone now here, we’ve taken over one of the banquet rooms
for a feast. Tomorrow, all the players will hit the field, and spring training
begins in earnest. Tonight is a chance for them to connect, relax, and have
some fun before the work starts.
I’m booked to share a room with another trainer at the hotel. The team
policy of players sleeping alone is a bit more relaxed during spring training
than it is during the actual season, but rooms were booked before Dan and I
became a couple.
However, room assignments don’t seem to matter to him as he bypasses
my floor and leads me straight to what I assume is his. We’re silent the
short walk down the corridor and as he unlocks his door.
As soon as it snicks shut behind us, I expect him to reach for me and our
clothes to fly off. Or at least, I think that’s what I expect. It’s perhaps what I
should want? Or need? Truth is, I’m so mixed-up from seeing him again,
being near him and soaking in his love, I can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s
the nervous energy constantly running through me, knowing the
conversation I need to have with him is coming sooner, rather than later.
He doesn’t start undressing me, however. No, instead, he leads me over to
his bed, sits down, and pulls me into his lap. Then, gripping my chin, he
turns my head to face him, and with an uncharacteristically serious
expression on his face, he says one word that seals my fate for the evening.
“Talk.”

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 Chapter Thirty-Five

Monty
Something is definitely wrong. I’ve known it for days, and try as I might,
it’s affecting my game. I’ve been calling it the yips, and so far, the other
players and staff seem to believe it’s just a bump in the road for me.
Only Yami seems to suspect it’s more than that, and I’ve caught him
starting to ask me what’s up a few times, only to stop. It’s as if he knows
something I don’t, but for the fucking life of me, I can’t bring myself to ask
him.
Then today, seeing her at the airport filled me with a weird mixture of
relief, elation, and absolute panic.
Because instead of laughing at my ridiculous sign or running and jumping
into my arms like the reunions you see on cheesy movies, Lark just stood
there, her beautiful face struggling to contain tears.
When she finally moved toward me, the ice that was rapidly gripping my
heart cracked. And when I had her in my arms, I felt like I could take in a
full breath once again.
Yet still, that unease remained. Something is wrong, and I need to know
what it is.
“Talk to me, please,” I say again, trying to make my voice firm and not
sound as shaky as I feel. “I know there’s something going on, Birdie. And I
gotta be real with you, it’s freaking me the fuck out. I can’t stop worrying
about you, about us.” I suck in a breath. Now’s the time to get fully
vulnerable. “It’s messing with me. I fucked up the signals the other day, let
way too many balls past me, and tripped over my own goddamn feet trying
to get to one. Whatever it is, I can handle it. What I can’t handle is not
knowing if you’re okay. If we’re okay.”
The last three words are said in a whisper. The deepest, darkest fears of
my heart. That somehow, I’ve done something wrong. That it’s me, I’m not
enough for her, she’s not happy, that I’m losing her.
When tears spill from her eyes, I reach up to wipe them away with my
thumb, ignoring the wetness tracking down my own face.
“Birdie. Lark. Please, talk to me.”
I see her throat move in a swallow and her shoulders rise and fall in a
long, slow breath. When she opens her mouth, I brace myself for the worst.
“I’m pregnant.”
What the actual fuck?
In all the scenarios that played out in my mind the last few days, a baby
never factored into a single one.
Pregnant?
But even as I stare at her, the pieces fall into place. I swear, I’m not an
idiot, but I sure as shit feel like one. She was exhausted, nauseous, and
emotional.
I may not have ever had a girlfriend, but I went to sex-ed class in high
school. I’ve been around guys with kids. I’ve watched movies and heard the
stories. I know what the early signs of pregnancy can be.
Yet still, somehow, I never considered this.
At some point in my mental processing, Lark has managed to move off
my lap without me noticing. Until I open my mouth and say probably the
stupidest thing I’ve ever said.
“How?”
She paces away from me, her arms wrapped around her stomach, and I
hate that I’m not touching her. Especially when she chokes out a laugh.
“Well, you see, when a man and a woman —”
No. No fucking way. I stand up and close the distance between us in a
second, gripping her gently by the shoulders.
“Lark. Give me a second, please. I’m handling this all wrong. I just…”
Words fail me, and I know I’ve got to figure my shit out, and fast, or I’ll
lose her. “Shit, Birdie, a baby?”
 Another forced laugh.
I drop to my knees and place my hands on her stomach. “Hi, baby bird.”
When I look up at her, she’s staring down at me, her mouth partly open and
eyes filled with tears.
“Dan?” she whispers brokenly. And there’s so much weight to that one
word, my name, phrased as a question.
“This is amazing,” I say quietly. “I don’t know the odds, but I’m guessing
they were not exactly good. And yet somehow, we did this. We made a
fucking baby.” I grin, even through my tears that are no longer based in fear
but in pure, exquisite joy. “I’ve got super sperm.”
Lark snorts, then claps her hand over her mouth, muffling her laugh. But
it’s music to my ears. I lean in and kiss her stomach. Once, twice, then
again just because I can’t stop marveling at it.
“We need to talk about this,” Lark says, her voice still a little shaky. With
a decisive nod, I stand and take her hands.
“Yeah, we do.”
She lets me lead her back to the bed, but this time, instead of sitting
down, I stretch out on my side and pull her down with me. As much as I
want to be looking into her beautiful eyes right now, I need to feel like I’m
protecting her from all the craziness she’s been dealing with alone for the
last few days.
Wrapping my big spoon around her little spoon, my hand lands on her
stomach, my fingers splayed out as wide as I can.
There’s a baby in there. My baby.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Lark starts. “And it wasn’t exactly
like this was in my plan, either. But I want to keep it. I know you need to
focus on baseball, and that’s fine. I’ll be okay. Whatever you need to do. I
don’t want you to think I expect anything from you, I just…I decided I’m
keeping the baby.”
For the second time tonight, I’m stunned speechless. Only this time, it’s
not a good feeling. I remove my hand, sliding away and scrubbing my hand
over my face, trying to make sense of what she just said. But once again,
my lack of experience with relationships fucks me over, and I instantly
know pulling away was the wrong choice.
Lark draws her knees up, pointedly staying on her side, facing away from
me. And when I touch her hip, she tenses up.
“Lark.”
 She doesn’t move.
“Lark Miller, love of my fucking life, stop being so stupid.”
That makes her move. Rolling over, she glares at me. Good. I want her
angry. It’s better than her thinking I could possibly be anything other than
thrilled right now.
“Let me make one thing crystal clear,” I say, my voice firm as I stare
down at her. “This baby is growing inside your body. That means,
ultimately, it’s your choice what happens. And I would respect your
decision, no matter what it was, no matter how much it might hurt. But
make no mistake. I want this baby. I want our baby. And I want to have it
with you. This is a fucking miracle, and there’s not a chance I’m ever gonna
see it as anything but.”
If you were to ask me four months ago how I felt about the idea of having
a kid right now, I would have been horrified. A baby changes everything.
But that was before. Before I knew Lark loved me. Before I knew I could
have the future I never let myself even dream of. A future with her in it.
Now? Yeah, sure, it’s going to change things. I’m not naive enough to
think a baby won’t fundamentally alter my entire life.
But none of that matters anymore. Because the second she uttered those
two words, something locked into place inside of me. A part of myself I
didn’t even know existed. As if every priority, every goal, every dream
rearranged themselves in my brain, making room for a new number one.
“You’re really okay with this?” Lark whispers, and I can see hope starting
to clear away the anguish that was there before.
It kills me to think she spent any time at all worrying about my reaction
instead of being filled with joy and excitement.
“Yeah, I am. I’m more than okay. I’m so fucking excited, I honestly don’t
know how to express it.” I leap up to stand on the bed, pumping my fists in
the air and hitting the goddamn ceiling, but who the hell cares? “I’m having
a baby!” I shout at the top of my lungs before following it up with a loud
whoop.
“Oh my God, stop!” Lark says, but she’s laughing again as she pulls at
my hand, dragging me back down beside her. I go willingly and push her
onto her back so I can cover her with my body.
“Lark, I’ve never been this happy. Not even on the day I got my first
major league contract or the day you kissed me. This beats out everything
else for best moment of my entire life.”
 I lean down and kiss her, and finally, everything feels right. She melts
underneath me, her hands raking through my hair before settling into place,
looped around my neck. I move to the side, and she rolls to me as I lift one
of her legs up to drape it over my hip.
“You realize one thing, I hope,” I murmur against her lips.
“What?”
“You’re stuck with me for life now.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Fuck. I want to ask her to marry me. Right here, right now. But we
haven’t ever talked about that. Hell, we talked about kids but not marriage.
Backward, I know, but hey, maybe some weird, cosmic part of us knew
what was coming.
I guess it doesn’t matter whether my ring’s on her finger or not. Lark
Miller is mine, now and always.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Six

Monty
“Dan,” Lark whispers in between kisses. “Dan, stop. Hold on.”
I can’t help pouting a little when she pushes me away, but I let her, rolling
onto my back and running a hand through my hair as I turn my head to look
at her. “What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she moves off the bed and slowly starts to
peel off her clothes. I lick my lips, not daring to look away as she strips
until she’s completely naked.
“I didn’t have time to shower before dinner. Want to wash my back? Help
me get all clean?”
The wicked smile she gives me says everything and I leap off the bed,
shucking my clothes in record time. “Last one in has to have the first
orgasm.”
Her shriek of laughter makes me smile, but there’s no chance of her
beating me as I dart past her and into the bathroom. I fling the shower on
and step in before yelping at the cold water. Lark stands outside, her tits
shaking with laughter.
“I think you got that wrong,” she says, testing the water before stepping
in with me. “Shouldn’t the last one in have to give the first orgasm?”
My head moves side to side slowly as I grip her hips and spin her so she’s
under the now-warm spray. “Nope.” I emphasize the p, then drop to my
knees in front of her, my hands running around to her ass and squeezing.
“Trust me, I didn’t get anything wrong. This is my reward.”
My mouth covers her pussy, and she cries out my name, the sound
echoing in the glass enclosure. God bless large showers. And apologies to
whoever is in the room next to us. Because hearing my woman come
undone? Fucking hot as hell. Not a chance I’m asking her to be quiet.
“Ohhh,” she says, the one word drawn out in a long, low moan as my
tongue circles her clit. I suck it into my mouth, toying with her, lapping at
her. The hot water spilling down on us, the heat of her pussy under my
tongue, the sound of her panting, this is heaven. I know it. Eating Lark’s
pussy is nirvana.
I nibble, I suck, I lick, and I suck some more. And I can sense Lark
spiraling upward toward the orgasm I want her to have. But something’s
holding her back. I kiss her clit and look up her body.
“Lark. Tell me what you want.”
“Wh-what?” she pants, tilting her head down. Water falls onto my face,
and I blink it away.
“You’re holding back, baby. Don’t. What do you want?”
“I…God.”
“Nope, just Dan.”
Another choked laugh, but at least I know this time, it’s not from fear.
“I don’t know why I can’t come.” Her voice is plaintive and stirs
something in me, some primal, caveman, alpha instinct.
“You can and you will, Birdie. Ride my fucking face if you have to. Use
me. I’m yours.”
I dive back between her legs, plunging my tongue in and out of her heat a
few times before replacing it with my fingers. I hear the slap of her hand
onto the wall next to us and feel the other grip my hair tightly, so tight it
almost hurts. But in the best possible way.
She starts to writhe against my mouth, and I know she’s finally out of her
head.
I’ll keep her that way for the rest of the night if I have my way.
Her hips start to grind in circles, and I curl my middle two fingers over,
pressing my heel to her clit as I press a kiss just above. “That’s it. Let go.”
She comes with a hoarse cry, her hips quivering, hands clenching, breath
gasping. I don’t stop stroking her until I feel her sag against the wall. Only
then do I slowly drag my fingers out and bring them quickly to my mouth to
suck off every drop before the water washes it away.
I surge up and immediately lift her in my arms. Her legs wrap around my
waist as I kiss her, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moans into
my mouth, her heels digging into my ass.
“Thank you, Jesus, for catcher quads,” she says, smiling at me in between
kisses. I laugh, but secretly agree with her. All that time in the gym and
spent in a crouch is paying off. I gently thrust my hips against hers,
bumping her into the wall. We should probably get on with the actual
shower portion of the evening so I can take her to bed and fuck her
properly.
But that thought disappears when Lark sneaks a hand down between us,
somehow wrapping it around my dick.
“Can you fuck me like this?” she asks in a low, sultry voice. “Are your
legs strong enough to make me come against the wall of this shower?” She
guides my dick to her entrance, dragging it back and forth as much as she
can with how tightly pressed together we are.
I arch my brow, my jaw clenching with how hard it is not to plunge right
into her. “Is that a challenge?”
She nods and I stop resisting, slowly pushing my way inside.
“Challenge accepted.”
She buries her head in my neck and I feel her lips press into my skin as I
start to move, dragging part of the way out, then in again. It’s a little
precarious, making sure I don’t draw too far out, to say nothing of trying to
keep my balance and not send us both crashing down. But the feel of being
inside of her without a condom erases any sense I might have once had.
“Shit. This… You… Fuck.” My words are a garbled mess as I try
valiantly to steady my movements. But it’s too goddamn good, her heat
surrounding me, squeezing me, consuming me. “Lark,” I breathe, her name
a prayer on my lips. My hips stutter, and I have to adjust my grip so I can
brace one hand on the wall, somehow managing to hold her up with the
other arm banded around her.
I try to slow down. To make it last. But being in her bare is making me
semi-feral, and there’s no chance.
“Tell me if you don’t want me to come inside of you,” I manage to grind
out. Lark’s only answer is a moan and her lips smashing against mine. That
pushes me over the edge and I spill inside her, jet after jet, my hips
pounding her into the wall as she clenches around me like a vice. Her cries
are muffled by my grunts and tangled in our kiss.
“Fuck,” I breathe when my orgasm finally ends. Our foreheads are
pressed together along with the rest of our bodies. And despite my strength,
I can feel my legs start to shake. Slowly, I shift my hips back, sliding out of
her, and set her down, making sure she’s steady on her feet.
I kiss the top of her head, feeling my pulse slowly settle. Until she
squirms a little and I look down.
“Are you okay?” I ask, tenderly pushing the wet hair away from her face.
“Yeah…it’s just…a little messy.”
“What? Oh. Fuck.” My fingers find their way between her legs, and I
swipe at the sticky mess that is slowly oozing out of her, only to be rinsed
away by the water running down her legs. “I probably shouldn’t find that so
hot, but God help me, I do.” I rub my fingers in slow circles, and she goes
up on her toes, whispering my name.
I push inside, just one finger, and rub in a circle. Lark’s teeth land on my
shoulder, biting down as she whimpers.
“Can you give me another?” I don’t bother waiting for her answer,
ducking my head to take her nipple in my mouth. I toy with it, using my
tongue and letting my teeth graze across the tip, all while slowly sliding my
finger in and out of her.
“Dan. More,” she whimpers and I am happy to oblige. Adding a second
finger, I gently press my thumb to her clit. “Yes,” she cries, her nails
digging into my shoulder. “Oh God, yes!” Her head falls back against the
wall as I stroke her through another orgasm. This time when she feebly
pushes me away, I go, sliding my fingers free and dipping my head to kiss
her.
Then I take some shampoo and slowly start washing her hair. Relishing
the simple act of caring for my girl, the mother of my child.
We have a lot to figure out. But right now, there’s no where else I want to
be and nothing I would rather be doing.

A short while later, I’m wearing a pair of boxers with bananas on them, and
she’s in my T-shirt. We’re wrapped in each other’s arms in the middle of my
king-size bed.
 “I want you to focus on baseball. This season is so important.” Lark’s
fingers trail up and down my bare chest. “Your teammates were talking
about you being distracted on the flight down here.” She looks at me, the
worry clear in her eyes. “You can’t afford to be distracted, Dan. I could
never forgive myself if this ruined your season.”
I move forward slightly so I can meet her lips and kiss her. “Lark, I was
distracted because I was worried about you. About us. I knew you weren’t
feeling well, and then when we talked, you sounded so distant. I didn’t
know what was wrong, and I couldn’t fix it from so far away. But now,
knowing it’s not something I did” — I pause and chuckle — “okay, well it
is, but you know what I mean.” She slaps my chest and giggles. “Now that I
know what’s going on, I feel great. I know we’ve got a lot to deal with, and
it’s not always going to be easy. But I’ll do whatever I need to do to take
care of you. You and baby bird.”
I hear her sniff and I tilt her chin up, frowning when I see more tears in
her eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry again, please.”
Lark gives me a watery smile, her hand coming up to brush away the
tears. “Pregnancy hormones, Dan. I cry a lot these days.”
“But nothing’s wrong? I didn’t say something I shouldn’t have?”
She shakes her head. “Not at all. You’re perfect. I love that you’d support
me, no matter what. That you respect me enough to let this be my choice.
And I love that you want this baby as much as I do. But let’s get something
straight. You have to kick ass this season. Which might mean putting
baseball first sometimes.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she covers it with her hand. My tongue
darts out to lick her palm and she pulls it away with a laugh. “Dan
Montgomery, stop being a child.”
Giving her a mock pout, I take her hand in mine, bring it back to my
mouth, and press a kiss there instead.
“Better. Now may I finish?”
I smirk and she goes on.
“We’re going to do this together. Have our baby. But if there are times
when you’re away, and I’m home for whatever reason, I need to know you
won’t get distracted again. That you’ll be able to focus on what you need to
get your contract signed and take this team all the way.”
“I’m sorry, all I heard was that we’re gonna have a baby.”
 Lark shrieks, and throws herself over top of me, her wickedly strong
fingers pinching my sides and tickling me. We wrestle for a few minutes,
both of us laughing, until her knee lands in my groin.
“Oh shit.” I groan, rolling to my side.
“Dan, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Lark’s hands roam my body, and
when she hits my hips, I pounce, pushing her onto her back and looming
over her. I grab her hands and pin them beside her head.
“I’ll be fine. Good thing we did the baby making thing already in case
there’s serious damage.”
Her hips lift and grind against my semihard dick. “Seems fine to me.”
I smirk down at her. “Listen, that’s a permanent state when I’m around
you.”
She grins back up at me. “Well, maybe we should take care of that.”
“Maybe we should. What do you have in mind?”
In answer, Lark takes me in her hand, sliding up and down a few times
until I’m almost fully erect. Then she notches me at her entrance. “I think
you can figure it out from here.”
You bet your ass I can.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lark
There’s no one but myself to blame for my exhaustion the next day. Not
even pregnancy hormones. This is solely the result of Dan and I getting
very little sleep. Next to none, actually.
He sneaks out before I’m even out of bed for a run with some of the other
players. When the door to the hotel room opens an hour later, I smell the
gift he’s brought me even before I open my eyes.
“Coffee?” I croak, blinking against the light streaming in from the open
curtains. I’m still wearing one of his T-shirts and nothing else, and as he
walks over, there’s no ignoring the way his eyes zero in on my boobs.
He settles beside me, handing me the cup. “Before you get too excited,
you need to know it’s decaf.”
I pout, even as I take a sip. “I know, it sucks. No caffeine, no wine, no
sushi. Women get the shit end of the deal with this whole pregnancy thing.”
“To say nothing of giving birth at the end of it,” he adds. That earns him a
glare. “What?”
“I’m trying not to think about that part quite yet.”
He has the decency to look remorseful. “Sorry, Birdie. But I tell you
what. I’ll suffer with you. No caffeine, alcohol, or sushi for me, either. I
can’t do much about the other stuff you’re gonna have to deal with, but I
can do this.”
 I pat his arm and look at his very likely caffeinated coffee. “Oh yeah?
You’re going to do that with me? Starting when?”
His face falls. “Oh. Shit.”
I’m about to reassure him it doesn’t matter and he can drink the damn
coffee when he stands up and goes to the bathroom. I hear him dump the
contents of his cup down the sink. When he comes back, he takes my cup
from me and takes a large sip.
“You’re gonna have to share.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, blinking furiously and trying not to
cry.
Dan just fixes me with a strangely affectionate look. “Yeah, I did. We’re
in this together, I told you.”
Crap. The first tear falls, followed by another. “Stop being so wonderful,”
I wail as he pulls me into his warm chest with a chuckle.
“Sorry, my love. No can do.”
I sniffle and sip my coffee. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.”
“Guess so. Hey, did you ever hear about your internship?”
I push myself up to sit, staring down at my coffee. “I did. I got accepted.”
Dan nudges me slightly. “That’s awesome, Birdie. So why don’t you
seem excited?”
My gaze lifts to look at him. “Because it starts in the fall, Dan. And news
flash, this baby is coming in the fall. Internships don’t exactly mix well
with newborns.”
“Hmm.”
His casual response annoys me a little. I bite my tongue and drink my
coffee.
“Why don’t you explain the situation and ask if you can start in the new
year instead? You said the research study is ongoing, maybe they’ll let you
delay your placement.”
I climb out of bed and set my coffee cup down on the dresser after
draining the last few sips. “I don’t want to sound all negative, but do you
really think that would work? They must have tons of applicants. Why
would they wait for me?”
Dan stands up and walks over to me, running his hands down my arms.
“Because you’re Lark Miller, and you’re incredible. You’re worth waiting
for. Trust me.”
“Now you’re gonna make me cry again.”
 He laughs and kisses my forehead. “Oh no, what a surprise.”
I drop my head down on his chest with a sigh. “Even if they did let me
delay my start, we’d have to figure out childcare, and I’d still have a very
young baby at home. I don’t know.”
“Listen, a wise woman once told me, sometimes you have to put your
own needs first. Or something like that. Anyway, you’re not putting your
goals on hold any less than I am. We’re in this together, and we’ll find a
way to make it work. If you start in January, I’ll stay home with the baby.”
He cocks his head to the side with a smirk. “You gotta admit, I’ll make one
hell of a DILF.”
I laugh, but my head’s nodding in agreement. “As long as I’m the only
one who gets to actually F you.”
“Duh. Besides, I bet you anything my parents will help out, or we’ll find
a nanny. Heck, doesn’t the stadium have a daycare? There’s options, Lark.
Don’t give up on your dream. Promise me you’ll at least ask them if you
can start later.”
I let myself consider it, trying to imagine participating in the internship in
the new year. It won’t be easy, there’s a lot to consider, including my
position with the Tridents. But he’s right. I won’t know what’s possible if I
don’t ask. “Okay. I’ll send them an email.”
“Great. Are you up for some breakfast? I’ve got to be at the field pretty
soon. But I want to make sure you’re fed.”
“I can take care of myself, you go to training.”
Dan steps back and looks down at me, intense love shining in his eyes.
“Baby. Let me take care of you, please.”
I let out a mock sigh of suffering. “Is this a new kink for you? Caring for
me? First, it was the shower last night, now you want to feed me? What’s
next, are you going to dress me and carry me everywhere, too?”
He pretends to consider it, and I slap his chest with a laugh.
“Ouch, hey! Don’t kink shame, Birdie.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I giggle, dodging his hand that’s reaching for me as I
dart into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I open the door and see
him sitting on the couch, a goofy expression on his face as he scrolls on his
phone.
“What are you looking at?”
His gaze bounces up with a dash of guilt. “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
 “Seriously. It was nothing.”
I fist my hands on my hips and stare him down.
“Okay, fine, I was looking at this chart that talks about the size of a baby
throughout pregnancy. Right now, it’s the size of a raspberry. A raspberry!
Lark, come on. That’s freaking cute.” He launches off the couch, pulls my
shirt off, and before I can say anything, he’s blowing a raspberry on my
stomach.
“Dan!” I shriek, trying and failing to push him away.
When he finishes, he rocks back on his heels and gives me an unrepentant
grin. “A raspberry for our raspberry.”
“You. Are. Ridiculous.” I try to frown, but it doesn’t work; I know I’m
smiling back at him. “Come on, let’s go and get breakfast.”
“Maybe they’ll have raspberries!”

After breakfast, everyone makes their way to the field. I find the trainer’s
area and check in with Mattias.
“Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks, me too.” I debate telling him why I was sick, but don’t. It feels
too soon, not just because the experts say to wait, but because I want to
keep it just between me and Dan a little while longer.
Our baby bird.
Our secret raspberry.
“So far, no new injuries. A few players need increased conditioning,
which Caden is designing some plans for. If you can connect with him and
make sure the conditioning plans cover the ongoing rehab for anyone that
needs it, that would be great.”
“On it.”
After checking out the rest of the facilities and making a list of supplies
we need, I head over to the gym area where Caden is working with Rhett
and Ben on the mats.
“Lark!” Rhett’s deep voice booms. “Y’here to save us from Caden’s
torture?”
“Nope,” I reply cheerfully. “Quite the opposite. We need to make sure
your knees are strong, especially since you, Rhett Darlington, aren’t getting
any younger. I’m here to see what I can add to Caden’s plan.”
 Rhett clutches his chest. “Damn, darlin’. Way to hit a guy where it hurts.”
I arch my brow. “Oh, so it wasn’t you that was complaining about knee
pain last fall? Hmm. I seem to recall recommending cortisone shots to
someone.” I tap my chin. “You sure it wasn’t you?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“You play for Canada, Rhett, we don’t have that up there.”
“Semantics. Besides, we’re in the good ol’ United States right now.”
I chuckle and move over to Caden’s side. “How’s it going?”
The muscular fitness trainer looks at the two players on the mats. “Good.
I think they’re both fine as long as we focus on quad strength. Can you add
in some fascia work on their hips?”
“Got it.”
I wave goodbye to the guys and move on, at last heading out to the field.
The real work for me will start soon, once the guys start needing treatments
like taping and massage. For now, I can observe and help as needed.
Outside, the sun is hot, but not too uncomfortable. At least, not for me,
standing in the shade of the dugout. For the players on the field, it’s likely
worse. One group is doing some fielding drills, while more are working on
batting into a net.
Eventually, I find Dan standing with the other first-string catcher, and a
couple of the second-string guys who are here to train with the team, even if
they never actually play this season. They’re laughing about something, and
I watch him for a minute.
“Whatever yips he had are gone now that you’re here.”
I startle at Kai’s voice as he leans on the railing next to me. “Oh?”
He nods slowly. “It was strange. He didn’t want to leave Vancouver, then
we got here and all was good. Then, a few days later, something changed
and Monty’s dropping balls and missing shit all over the place. You arrive,
and our boy’s back on top.” His gaze shifts from the field to me.
“Everything all good with you, Lark?”
Kai’s normally a boisterous, outgoing, happy guy. So being under this
level of scrutiny from him is unnerving.
I lick my lips. “Everything’s great, Yami.”
A smile covers his handsome face. “Good. That’s really good.” He pushes
off the railing and moves to the stairs that lead to the field. He pauses, and I
think he’s about to say something before he changes his mind, I guess.
Tapping the rail with his glove, he gives me a smile, his eyes dropping
down to my stomach and back up again before he jogs onto the field.
It might be harder than I thought to keep this baby a secret.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Eight

Monty
I let out a whoop as Yami throws yet another strike. “Three up, three
down, baby!”
We jog toward each other, meeting in the middle with a chest bump.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he cheers. “Fuck, man, I think we found
it.”
“Hell yeah, we did.”
We walk over to the dugout with the rest of the players that were on our
team for this practice game. I jog down the stairs, setting my catcher’s
helmet on the bench before sinking beside it and taking a long drink of
water.
“Lookin’ good out there, hot stuff.”
My head turns, my grin at the ready at Lark’s voice. “Hey, Birdie. Did
you see that? Yami was on fire.”
“You both were.” She bends over and kisses my upturned face. “You’re
sweaty.”
“We can’t all spend our day in the air-conditioned facility, baby. Some of
us need to be out here doing the work.”
Lark just snorts. “Yeah, and some of us have to deal with your stinky,
sweaty bodies every time you get so much as a paper cut.”
 I shrug; she’s got a point. When she sits down beside me, I drop a hand to
her bare thigh and squeeze gently. Lowering my voice, I ask, “How are you
feeling?”
“Like I told you this morning, and yesterday, and the day before, I feel
great. The medication the doctor gave me works wonders.”
“I’m still gonna ask.”
“I know you are.” She leans in and kisses me softly. “That’s why I love
you.”
“Hey, lovebirds.”
We both turn at Yami’s voice. He points at us, his finger wagging
between us both. “This is cute and all, but I need my boy in the bullpen.”
I stand up with an exaggerated groan. “Pitchers. They’re so fucking
demanding.”
Yami snorts. “You think I’m demanding? Just wait.”
My brow furrows. It’s not the first cryptic comment he’s made. He walks
off and I turn to Lark. “Do you think —”
“I think he —”
We both start to talk at the same time. I gesture for her to continue.
Leaning in, Lark drops her voice to a whisper. “Do you think he knows?
About the raspberry?”
“I’m wondering the same thing, but how? I haven’t said anything, I
swear.”
Lark chews on her lower lip. “Then how…”
“I’ll talk to him later at taco night.” She nods and I reach out my thumb to
free her lip. “It wouldn’t be so bad, though, if he did know. We’re gonna
have to tell people eventually.”
“I know. I guess it’s not the end of the world, but I’m still curious about
how he knows.”
“I’ll ask.” Dropping one more kiss to her forehead, I step toward the
stairs of the dugout. “Better get back to work. See you later, Birdie.”

Practice finishes several hours later, and after we all get back to the hotel,
we regroup and head out to the Mexican restaurant we end up at every year
for a team dinner. Taco night is a spring training tradition for the Tridents.
 I let everyone go inside before me, grabbing Yami’s arm to hold him
back. “Hey, hang on a sec, would you?”
He comes to a stop and looks at me with a half smirk. “What’s up?”
I swallow. I told Lark I’d ask him if he knew, but now that the time’s
come, I don’t know how to say it.
“So, ah, me and Lark. Um. You know there was that stuff when she was
sick. And, um, okay, so —”
“Dude. She’s pregnant, isn’t she?” His smirk grows.
“How the fuck do you know?” I ask, bewildered, but also grateful I didn’t
have to say it. Although, I guess I’d better practice. Soon enough, we’ll be
telling everyone.
“How did you not know?” He holds up one hand and starts counting off.
“She was exhausted and nauseous. I’m guessing she got the news that day
you went off the rails and she didn’t tell you, making you worry. Then she
shows up, you guys disappear for the evening, and the next day, you’re both
smiling nonstop. She can’t stop touching her stomach, and you keep staring
at it.”
My mouth falls open. “Damn, Yami. Are you some kind of fucking
detective?”
“Nah, man, just got two older sisters that had kids not too long ago and
good observation skills.”
My head moves side to side. “Well, shit. Hopefully, no one else is that
good. We wanted to keep it a secret for a while longer.”
Yami steps forward and drops a hand to my shoulder. “I won’t tell
anyone. But can I say one thing?”
I nod.
“I’m really fucking happy for you, man, you two are gonna be fantastic
parents.” He smirks again. “And I’m gonna be the best goddamn uncle out
there.”
I pull him in for a back-slapping hug. “Thanks, bro.”
We break apart and he turns to look inside the restaurant. “C’mon, let’s
go before they eat all the chips.”
Inside, we join the rest of the team seated around a huge table in the back
of the restaurant. For a few minutes, I let the conversation go on around me
and just soak it in. This is my life? Seriously? Playing ball on a team with
some of the greatest men I know, in love with the best woman in the entire
goddamn world, and about to have a baby.
 I don’t know what I did to get this fucking lucky, but I’m grateful for it.
After everyone’s done eating, Sin, who happens to be seated next to me,
reaches down beside his chair and lifts up a bag before standing up and
clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“When I came to my first Tridents’ spring training camp last year and
Monty pulled out a giant fucking fishbowl, I have to admit, I was confused.
Then they explained the tradition, and I was skeptical. But at the end of last
year, we read them out loud, and goddamn if most of them hadn’t come
true. We all know ballplayers are nothing if not superstitious, which means
the fishbowl is back. Write down your goals and dreams for the season,
boys, and let’s make it our best ever.”
He sits down amid the raucous applause and I lean in. “As far as speeches
go, that was pretty good. You’ve got the job.”
“What job?” he asks with a laugh.
“The keeper of the bowl,” I say, keeping my face and voice dead serious.
As expected, Sin looks at me like I just grew a second head. “The what?”
I nod slowly. “You’ll collect the bowl tonight and be responsible for it all
year. Then at the barbecue in the fall, you have to read the messages out
loud.”
“Fuck that, this is your gig. I just got it started.”
After holding his stare for a beat, I laugh. “Fine, fine. You’re not ready
yet.”
I take some of the paper that is circulating around and grab a pen from the
pile in the middle of the table. Most years, my goals come easily to me.
Because most years, they’re the same. Play to win, go to the
championships, that kind of stuff.
This year, things are different. But my goal still comes to me easily.
Be the man Lark deserves and the father our baby deserves.
It’s late by the time we get back to the hotel. And when I let myself into
my hotel room, where Lark has essentially moved in, having spent zero
time in the room the team booked for her to share with another trainer, it
takes my eyes a second to adjust in the dim light.
She’s curled up on her side, facing me. Her eyes are closed, her face
peaceful. She’s so goddamn beautiful it takes my breath away, and I have to
put my hand over my heart to make sure it’s still beating and hasn’t jumped
ship to land in her hands instead.
 Because that woman has my entire heart, and I would lay my life down
for her and our baby.
When I can move again, I silently and quickly strip down to my
underwear, then walk as quietly as possible into the bathroom to finish
getting ready for bed. When I finally lift the covers and slip in behind her, I
carefully sneak my arm around her waist, wrapping my body around the
curve of hers.
My hand lands on her stomach, my thumb lightly caressing the life
growing inside.
It’s funny. I went from a virgin to a father-to-be in a very short time. It
might not be what I ever would have planned for myself, but I don’t regret a
single thing.
How could I when the first woman I’ve ever loved will also be the last
woman I love?
The only woman I’ll ever love.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty-Nine

Lark
“We should probably start looking at houses.”
My hands freeze in the middle of folding a shirt at Dan’s casual
statement. I turn, and he’s where he was a second ago, stretched out on his
side in the middle of my bed, surrounded by my laundry. He just finished
helping me match up my socks as I put everything away from spring
training.
Despite the domestic nature of our morning, his words catch me by
surprise. Which quickly makes me feel foolish. And excited.
Of course, we need to discuss our living situation, but isn’t it too soon for
that? I mean, we’re having a baby, and we love each other, but…
But what? What more do I need?
I subtly shake my head and clear my throat. “Oh yeah?”
He looks up from his phone and turns it around to face me. “What about
this one? It’s close to where Sin and Willow live, has four bedrooms, and a
big backyard. Oooh, we could get a dog!”
“Dan, we’re going to have a baby. I’m not adding a puppy into that
chaos.”
He waves his hand at me, looking back at his phone “I said dog, not
puppy. We could rescue an older one.”
 It’s moments like this that make me pause and question if he’s being silly
or serious. With Dan, it could be either.
“We don’t have to rush on a house, you know, either one of our
apartments will be fine at first.”
“Well, yeah, but which one? I’ve got the security and the amenities, but
you’ve got the view.”
“You want to move in together. Now?”
I suppose Dan hears the question in my voice because he sets his phone
down and sits up. “Well, yeah. Don’t you?”
Moving to the bed, I sink down on the edge. He moves to sit beside me,
drawing my legs up and over his lap.
“I don’t know.” I sense him tense up and grab his hand. “Not because I
don’t want to, but I guess…” I pause, trying to collect my thoughts into
something that makes sense. “I guess I never let myself consider it. I know
that sounds so stupid, we’re having a child together. And I know you love
me, and I love you, so moving in together should be obvious. But —”
“But you still have a hard time fully believing that nothing is going to
diminish my love and that our future is clear to me.”
If the way he understands me better than I understand myself isn’t a sign
he is the only man for me, I don’t know what is.
My head moves up and down, even as moisture wells in my eyes. Dan
chuckles, wiping away the tears.
“I haven’t wanted to overwhelm you or rush you. I mean, you were
engaged, literally the day before you kissed me for the first time. But maybe
that was a mistake and I should have said it sooner. I plan on marrying you,
Birdie. You’re my end game. My championship. The only trophy that truly
matters. I want to spend the rest of my life dedicated to you and our family.
So whether we move in together now or later, I don’t really care. As long as
you know deep down, this is it. You and me, together forever.”
I’m blinking away my tears as his words heal the cracks I hadn’t even
realized were still covering my heart. I don’t want to be a woman who
needs constant reassurance, but if there was ever a man who would be
happy to provide that, it’s Dan. I lean in and kiss him softly, wrapping my
arms around his shoulders and climbing farther into his lap.
“I love you.”
“I know.” His lips quirk up in a grin.
 We kiss again and again, and just as I’m ready to make a mess of my
piles of clean laundry, Dan stands up, cradling me in his arms.
“Come on, Birdie. We can finish this later. Let’s get a snack and go for a
walk.”
He carries me out to the kitchen, setting me down on the counter before
going to the cabinet where I keep all of my favourite snacks.
Pulling out a package of licorice, he waves it at me, and I reach for it with
grabby hands. But as soon as I open the package, I gag. “Oh my God,
nope.” I throw it at him, and of course, he catches it. “Get that away from
me, please.”
Reaching for the basket on my counter, I grab a vial of essential oils, not
even caring what it is. When I open and inhale the bright scent of bergamot,
I sigh in relief.
“No licorice during pregnancy. Noted.”
I pout. “That’s depressing. Can you get rid of it all?” I ask, hopping down
from the counter and giving him a wide berth, seeing as he’s still holding
the offending package. I take another inhale of bergamot and move to the
couch, leaning against the back of it as Dan pulls out all the licorice and
puts it in a bag before tying the ends.
“Garbage?”
“No, don’t waste it. Take it in for the team? Just tell them not to eat it
around me.” I shudder, imagining one of the guys coming in for a massage,
smelling of licorice.
Dan chuckles. “You got it.”
His phone starts to ring, and I move to pick it up from the table, handing
it to him.
“It’s my parents.” He looks at me, and I know what he’s about to ask.
“We should tell them.”
“Really?” His eyes widen and his smile grows. “Are you sure? We
haven’t told anyone yet.”
“I know, but your parents should know.”
He answers the video call with a grin. “Hey, Mom!”
“Hi honey, just wanted to check in, see how you’re settling in now that
you’re back.”
“Great, actually.” Dan moves to lean against the couch next to me. “I’m
at Lark’s right now.”
 “Oh, hi, sweetheart,” Edith says cheerfully, lifting her hand to wave at
me.
“Hi, Edith.” I wave back. “How are you and Howard doing?”
“We’re just fine. Busy as always, but very excited for the game this
weekend!”
“So are we. The team is looking really strong.”
Dan turns the phone back to himself and takes my hand before pushing
off the couch and dragging me around to the other side so we can sit on it
properly. “Hey, Mom, is Dad nearby?”
“I think so, he was at the bank to do a deposit but I heard him come back
a few minutes ago. Why?”
“Can you go and get him, please?” Dan’s leg is bouncing up and down
with excitement, and I place my hand on it. He flashes me a grin and kisses
my forehead. Right in front of his mother, who’s still smiling at us.
“It’s good to see you two so happy.”
“We are, Mom. Very happy.” Dan covers my hand on his leg with one of
his own. Then his dad’s face shows up on the small screen. “Hey, Dad!”
“Hi, son, Lark, how are you both doing?”
“We’re good. Hey, um, we’ve got some news.” All of a sudden, Dan’s
face turns bright red.
I watch his Dad’s brows furrow as he peers closer at the phone. “Son?
Are you alright?”
He musters up a nod, then turns to me. He’s clearly choked up, and while
it’s sweet, I’m also freaking out at the realization that I’m going to have to
be the one to say it.
“Ah, well…” I start, then take a deep breath. Ripping off the Band-Aid in
three…two…one… “I’m pregnant.”
There’s a stunned silence, broken only by Dan’s loud exhale. When I
glance over at him, he’s managing to hold the phone steady, and the redness
is starting to recede from his cheeks, replaced by a goofy grin.
“Yeah, you’re gonna be grandparents.”
“What? I… Oh my goodness!” Edith covers her mouth with her hands,
the phone falling to the side. Howard seems to grab it, and takes over
holding it, but I can see him wiping under his glasses.
“That’s quite the news, kids,” he says gruffly.
“It’s good news, Dad. The best. I mean, it wasn’t planned, but we’re
incredibly happy and excited about it.”
 After a second, Howard nods. “That’s all that matters.”
“What can we do to help?” Edith chimes in, seeming less shocked and
more in control. “How are you feeling, Lark?”
“I’m okay now. I had some nausea at first. Actually, we thought it was a
virus. But the doctor confirmed I’m about twelve weeks along and gave me
some medicine for the nausea. You’re the first to hear the news, but we’ll be
telling the team soon.”
“And thanks for the offer Mom, but we’re good right now. I’m sure we’ll
need you later, though. How do you feel about babysitting?” Dan grins.
Edith scoffs. “Do you really think you can keep me away from my
grandbaby? I’ll be there as often as you’ll allow me. Whatever you need,
both of you.”
“Thank you,” I say softly, feeling a little blown away by their reaction.
Their only son is having a baby with a woman he’s only been dating for a
few months, and they’re thrilled.
I know, I just know, that my parents would not react this way. They
would likely see it as a personal insult or attack on them. Somehow, it
would be a disappointment at worst, and a nuisance at best.
I manage to push away the depressing thoughts of how different my
family is from Dan’s just in time to hear him agree to send his mom the
ultrasound photos after our appointment this week.
“If that’s okay with you, Birdie?” He squeezes my knee gently.
I nod quickly. “Of course. I’m glad you’re as excited as we are.” I smile,
but it’s a small one, and Dan gives me a questioning look.
“Hey, Mom, Dad, we better get going. We’ve got a team thing later on.”
It’s a lie, but I’m grateful for it. We say goodbye to his parents, Dan sets
the phone down, and he turns to face me. “What happened there?”
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I snuggle into his side, resting my
hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat, calm and steady, as always. He
kisses the top of my head, seeming to be willing to give me a minute.
“Your parents are so lovely, and I’m glad they’re happy for us. Really.
But it made me think about how my parents might react if they find out.
And it definitely won’t be the same.”
“What do you mean, if?” Dan asks. “We’re gonna tell them, Birdie. And
if they choose to be miserable assholes about it, then I’ll set them straight.
But we have to give them a chance.”
I sit upright and twist my hands together in my lap.
 “Do we? It’s not like they cared all that much for me, and I was their
daughter. Why would they care about a grandchild?”
“They might not,” he says somberly. “But we have to give them a chance.
And at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what they think. I won’t let them
or anyone else hurt you or our baby bird. And I promise you, this child will
always know they’re loved. Unconditionally, wholly, and without end. Just
like their mama.”
Reaching my hand up, I cup his cheek, then pull him down to meet my
kiss.
“And just like their daddy.”

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 Chapter Forty

Lark
I give the waiter a smile of thanks as he sets the water glass down in front
of me.
“Will you be wanting anything else to drink?”
Wanting, yes. Having, no.
“Water is fine for me. My friends might have something when they get
here.”
He nods and walks away. I run my finger through the condensation on the
glass. I don’t know why I’m anxious. Telling Willow and Sadie about the
baby should be easy. I honestly can’t imagine them not being happy for us,
even if it is unexpected.
But we haven’t told anyone aside from Dan’s parents yet. The plan is to
announce it to the team after the home opener tomorrow. Dan wants to be
able to focus on the game and not have anyone be distracted by the news.
Of course, we didn’t account for how nervous either one of us might be
about keeping it a secret until then…
“Hey, Lark!”
I look up to see Willow and Sadie weaving through the tables toward me.
Standing, I hug both of them before we sit back down.
“Drinks?” Willow asks, looking at the menu. “I could go for a glass of
wine.”
 I shake my head. “Just water for me.”
“I’ll join you, Willow,” Sadie says in her soft voice.
“Perfect. Lark, are you sure?” Willow signals for the waiter before
looking over at me. “You’re not feeling sick again, are you?”
“Not exactly.” I fidget with the paper wrapper that holds the cutlery and
napkin together.
The waiter saves me from having to say anything more by taking their
order for wine and some appetizers. But as soon as he leaves, Willow leans
forward. She’s got her game face on. The one I’ve witnessed her use to
wrangle a locker room full of players and a conference room full of media.
“Lark Miller. Spill.”
My mouth suddenly feels dry. I take a sip of water. “I’m pregnant.”
“I knew it!”
“What? How?” I ask as Willow holds her hand out to Sadie for a high
five.
“Oh, come on, Lark. You were nauseous and tired, and then miraculously
better. I’m guessing your doctor confirmed the pregnancy and gave you
some drugs? Just because I’ve never been pregnant doesn’t mean I’m
clueless to the signs.”
“Well, I sure felt clueless because that was the shock of my life,” I
mumble, looking down at my glass.
“You really didn’t suspect it?” Sadie asks curiously.
“Nope. I mean, I guess I should have, seeing as the first time we had sex
the condom slipped. But I truly didn’t worry. I was on the pill, making the
chances so slim.”
Willow winces. “Yikes about the condom, though. Hopefully, Monty was
a good boy and had a clean bill of health at his last physical.”
I only just manage to stop myself from saying that wasn’t a concern, what
with it being his first time and all.
“Yeah, everything was fine. Well, except for the baby thing, but that’s
fine, too.” I feel a small smile break free. “More than fine, actually.”
“I would imagine it’s pretty overwhelming,” Sadie says gently. “But it is
very exciting, too. As long as you and Monty are both happy.”
“We are.” Happy is an understatement…
Our appetizers arrive, and now that I’m not feeling the pressure to tell
them, I can relax and enjoy lunch with my friends. They have a hundred
questions, and I answer what I can. We laugh about crazy name ideas, and
nursery themes, and Willow insists she’s throwing me a baby shower in a
few months during the All-Star break.
A while later, as we’re leaving the restaurant, Willow pulls me into her
arms. “Ahh, I still can’t believe you’re having a baby. This is just so
freaking exciting!”
“What did you just say?”
At the sound of a familiar, shrill voice, my good mood dissipates in an
instant. Willow draws back and mouths sorry to me. Standing close to us is
none other than Cordelia Hazelwood. I hadn’t noticed her approaching, and
I’m guessing neither did Willow, who has moved to my side, tucking my
arm in hers. Poor Sadie is hovering next to us. She hasn’t had the pleasure
of meeting my former almost-mother-in-law. But the tension is obvious to
anyone.
“Cordelia. Nice to see you. I trust you’re well?” I ask, my voice stiff.
There’s no chance we can get away without a confrontation, especially if
she heard what Willow said.
“Did your friend truly just say you’re with child, Lark?” Cordelia’s voice
is cold. I suppose any remotely positive feelings she held toward me ended
the second Baron and I broke off the engagement.
“Yes.” I force my spine to straighten and look her in the eye. “I am. And
if you’ll excuse us, we need to be going. Have a nice day.”
I move past her, dragging Willow with me and hoping Sadie follows. As
soon as we round the corner, however, I stumble to a stop, leaning on
Willow.
“Oh God. Tell me that didn’t happen and it was just some bizarre
pregnancy hallucination.”
“Um, sorry, babe, but you definitely just told your ex’s mom that you’re
pregnant,” Willow says, her voice laced with sympathy.
“Hopefully, she doesn’t think the baby’s father is your ex,” Sadie says,
and I look at her in horror.
“Oh shit, I didn’t even consider that.” I remove my arm from Willow’s
and cover my face in my hands. “What am I going to do?”
“Nothing,” Willow says firmly, pulling my hands down. “You’re going to
do nothing. You don’t owe that witch or her family anything. If Baron, for
some crazy reason, thinks the baby is his, he can reach out. But didn’t you
tell me you two hadn’t had sex in months? He’s not an idiot, he can do the
math. Don’t let her ruin your vibe, girlfriend.”
 I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you for having my back and being
amazing friends. This baby is going to have the best aunties ever.”
“You’ll have a built-in babysitter in a few years when Peyton’s older.”
Willow smiles. “On that note, I better get back to the office. When will you
two be announcing this to the team officially?”
“After the home opener.”
Willow flashes me a thumbs-up. “Got it. My lips are sealed until then.
Girl code.”
“I won’t tell Maverick anything, either.” Sadie hugs me. “But I’m also
really happy for you. Monty will be a wonderful dad, he’s got such a good
heart.”
We say our goodbyes and I make my way home. It’s difficult to say
where feels more like that nowadays. Half of my things are at my apartment
and half at Dan’s. We do need to sort out our living situation. But now, with
the season starting, who knows when we’ll have time for house hunting if
we decide to buy somewhere new. The easiest thing would be to just get rid
of one of our apartments and move into the other. But which one?
I ponder that question the entire drive back to my apartment. When I
open the door and let myself in, I look around with fresh eyes, trying to
envision both of us living here, and maybe even a baby.
It’s smaller than Dan’s place, yet filled with light, and the view of the city
is wonderful. As I stand in the living room, looking around, I reflect back
on when Baron and I got engaged. I didn’t want to leave my apartment and
move into his. I hated his apartment; it felt cold and sterile.
But when I think about moving into Dan’s, I’m filled with happiness. His
spare bedroom would make a good nursery, and being so close to the
stadium would be convenient. It all clicks in that moment. I want to move
into his place until we decide on a long-term plan. Now I just have to wait
for him to get back from the stadium so I can tell him.
To occupy my time, I start searching for moving companies. Even though
I’m sure the guys would help, they’re going to be a little busy starting
tomorrow. So am I, for that matter, with today being a rare day off for me.
In the middle of reading reviews for one company, my phone rings. I
suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see Baron’s name, but I am a little
disappointed. Obviously, Cordelia wasted no time in contacting her son
about my news.
 “Hello,” I say coolly. It might not be fair to be mad at him when his
mother is the overbearing cunt.
“Hey Lark, how are you?” He doesn’t sound freaked out or worried,
giving me hope that he’s using some common sense.
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m guessing your mother called you.” I jump
straight to the point, not wanting to be on the phone with my ex-fiancé any
longer than necessary.
Baron clears his throat. “Ah, yeah, she did. I tried to tell her I was certain
it wasn’t mine, but you know how she is.”
Yeah. A freaking steamroller.
“Mm-hmm. Well, it’s not yours.”
“Cool. Yeah. I figured, seeing as we…”
Good grief, he sounds uncomfortable. And weirdly, it makes me happy.
For a man who always seemed unruffled, it’s gratifying to hear him squirm
a little.
“Seeing as we didn’t have sex for, oh, what, six or seven months before
we broke up? Not even the night we got engaged. Yeah, it would be tricky
for you to be the father of this baby.”
“Right.”
There’s a pause, and I wonder if he’s going to ask me who is the father.
Assuming he even wants to know. I don’t care either way, but I do want him
to know one thing.
“I never cheated on you, Baron. The baby was conceived on New Year’s
Eve.”
“I see. Thank you for telling me,” he says stiffly. I hear him exhale. “I
feel like an idiot even asking this, but is it him? That baseball player?”
This time, the pause is mine.
“Yes.”
Another sigh. “How long have you loved him?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I never thought about him that way because I
was with you. But he…”
“He’s better for you than I ever was,” Baron finishes my thought.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m happy for you, Lark. I wish you nothing but the best.”
Even though he can’t see me, I smile. “Thank you. Same to you.”
“Right, well, I guess it’s goodbye —”
 “Wait!” I interrupt. “Will you please try to get your mother to hear the
truth? I don’t want her thinking the worst of me.”
Baron laughs, but there’s no warmth to it. “Not sure she deserves that, but
yeah, I’ll tell her. Goodbye, Lark.”
We hang up and I stare at my phone. Why do I care what Baron’s mother
believes of me? I wish I knew, but I don’t. Honestly, her opinion matters
less than almost anyone else’s. Still, I don’t want people thinking I would
disrespect Baron like that.
Just because we were wrong for each other doesn’t make him a bad guy.
But I certainly am glad this baby is Dan’s and not his.

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 Chapter Forty-One

Monty
There’s something magical about opening day. The sounds, the smells,
the sun. It’s a perfect symphony for the senses. The feeling of a fresh start
and another chance to go all the way.
I’m feeling damn good about our team. Spring training was exactly what
it should have been. A chance for us to come together as a team, figure out
our dynamic, and hone our skills. And it all led up to this: Yami’s on the
mound, I’m behind the plate, and the Toronto Wolverines have their first
player walking up to bat.
I take a deep breath and shut out everything but my focus on Yami. I give
him the signal. A curveball.
He nods, then takes a step and winds up. The ball is in my glove seconds
later, and the umpire calls a strike.
That’s how it’s done, boys. Even though no one can see it, I’m grinning
behind my mask. The rest of the inning goes much the same with three up,
three down.
Guess the Wolverines didn’t have as good a time at spring training.
We jog off the field, everyone clapping Yami on the back and celebrating
his incredible start. I peel off my gear before finding him, knocking our
heads together.
“There you go, brother. Unstoppable.”
 He claps me on the back. “Hell, yeah. Dynamic duo. We should get
matching tattoos.”
“Dude. Seriously?” I look at him, my mouth stretching in a maniacal grin.
“I’m so in. Hey, Mav!” I shout for our teammate who has more tattoos than
anyone. “Got a good tattoo artist? Me and Yami are gonna be twins.”
He fixes us with an inscrutable look. The guy has loosened up a lot over
the last several months, but he still doesn’t laugh quite as easily as everyone
else chuckling over my announcement.
“Unicorns shitting baseballs or mermaids?” I turn back to Yami.
“Personally, I’m a fan of the unicorns.”
He just shakes his head. “Way to ruin my idea, Monty.” His smile betrays
his griping.
Together, we turn to the field where Sin is stepping up to the plate against
his former teammate. I lean against the railing, resting one foot on the lower
bar. The pitcher sends the ball flying, but Sin’s a statue, familiar with the
pitcher from when he played for the Wolverines.
Sure enough, the ump calls it a ball. He gets one more that’s too low, then
a slider comes straight at him. The entire dugout holds their breath as Sin
takes a swing.
CRACK.
“There it is!” I shout, clapping my hands as Sin takes off for first. He
makes it with time to spare.
“You boys are off to a great start.”
I spin around at Lark’s voice. “Hey, Birdie.” I drop a kiss to her head and
try to subtly touch her stomach as I lean in to whisper, “How’s baby bird
doing?”
Her hand grazes over mine as she tips her head up, a wide grin on her
face. “Just fine. Ready to watch Daddy hit a home run.”
“You got it. And we’re still planning to tell the bosses?”
“Yup.”
I kiss her nose. “Okay.”
Someone calls her name, and Lark turns and nods in acknowledgment.
“Get back to work,” I say with a wink. My eyes stay trained on her as she
walks away, over to one of the coaches.
“Everythin’ good?”
I turn to look at Darling. “Everything’s fucking awesome. Let’s win this.”
 He bumps my held-up fist and we focus on the game. Sin’s on third now,
and Jonesie is up to bat. Unfortunately, he strikes out and stomps off the
field with his jaw clenched.
“It’s all good, man, next time. You went down swingin’,” Darling calls
out, but Jonesie just gives him a sharp nod, his eyes staring straight out at
the field.
It never feels good to strike out. Especially not in your first at bat, in the
first goddamn game.
Good thing I hit the homer my baby wanted when it’s my turn.

The game is over all too soon with Yami getting another shutout inning,
securing our four-run lead.
The press is demanding of him and me, wanting to talk about our
partnership, the Tridents’ strategy of letting one catcher and one pitcher
work together as much as reasonably possible, and asking about our
predictions for the coming season. It’s annoying when all I want to do is
shower and find Lark. But this is part of the gig. And at the end of the day, I
wouldn’t change it for anything.
Eventually, we’re done, and we can jog down into the locker room. Yami
looks over at me as I rush to get changed. “You got somewhere to be?”
“Yeah,” I say, yanking a hoodie on. “Lark and I have a meeting with
management.”
“Oh.” His eyes widen. “Oh!”
I pause and grin as I lower my voice and say, “We’re gonna tell the team
at morning practice tomorrow.”
He walks over, one hand on his towel. With the other, he pulls me in for a
hug. “That’s fantastic. Everyone is gonna be thrilled.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate you keeping it quiet.”
A strange look crosses his face. “All good. Everyone’s allowed to have a
secret or two.”
I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means before he turns and walks
over to his locker, keeping his back turned as he gets dressed.
As much as I want to check on him, I’ve got somewhere to be.
Grabbing my bag, I head out of the locker room and turn right, making
my way to the trainer’s area. Lark is coming out of the gym, and we meet
with a kiss.
“Ready for this?” she asks, taking my hand.
“So ready.”
We head upstairs to the executive level where we asked Mike Cartwright,
the team’s owner, to meet us along with the head trainer and head coach.
Not gonna lie, I’m scared shitless. I need them to be happy for us so we go
into this season with them still thinking I’m worth keeping around for
another five years.
My parents are excited about the baby, which is awesome. But they’re
stretched thin enough managing the store. If I don’t land a good contract at
the end of this season, I don’t have a hope in hell of convincing them to
retire.
And I don’t want them killing themselves, trying to be there for Lark and
the baby, as well as running the store. I want them to be able to relax and
enjoy being grandparents. Enjoy the rest of their lives and let me pay them
back however I can, for everything they’ve done for me.
Mike, Coach Stirling, and Mattias are already waiting for us in one of the
conference rooms, and we walk in hand in hand. I pull out Lark’s chair and
then sit beside her.
“Great game, Monty. You looked good out there,” Mike says, leaning
back in his chair. “You must know we’re already aware of your relationship
with Lark, so what’s the reason for this meeting?”
I look at Lark, who gives me a nervous smile. Then I turn back to the
other side of the table. “Thank you, Mike. The team pulled off an excellent
start to the season. We wanted to meet with the three of you because we
have some news that may impact how things go this fall.”
Crap, that was the wrong thing to say, judging by the frowns and raised
eyebrows.
“Not in terms of my ability to play,” I hurry to clarify, then wince,
because that’s not exactly true. If Lark goes into labour, I sure as shit don’t
want to miss it because of a game. But that might be out of my hands,
which is something we’ve already discussed.
“Sorry. I’m saying this all wrong.”
“I’m pregnant,” Lark blurts out. “That’s what Dan is trying to say. We’re
having a baby, due near the end of September. Dan will play the entire
season, of course. But I may need to slow down come September and will,
unfortunately, likely be on maternity leave for the end of the season.”
 The room falls silent, the three men across from us absorbing the news.
Mike reacts first, leaning forward with a smile creasing his face. “Well, first
of all, congratulations. I take it this is happy news?”
My head bobs up and down. “Very happy. The happiest.”
He nods and turns to Lark. “Are you doing okay? Need anything?”
Her mouth falls open in surprise. I guess that’s warranted. I mean, it’s not
every day the owner of the company you work for asks if you need
anything because you’re pregnant.
“N-no thank you, Mr. Cartwright. I’m doing fine. We’re…we’re all doing
fine.”
“Good. I suggest you get your names on the day care list soon. From
what I hear, spaces don’t come available often.” He turns to Coach. “And
we’ll make sure all the catchers are ready to go, in case Dan needs to miss
anything. Family first.”
Now it’s my turn for my jaw to drop. “Thank you, Mike, but really, I
don’t plan on missing any games unless it’s an emergency.”
Lark squeezes my hand in agreement. But I can’t fight the rising fear.
Will they use the baby as a reason not to give me a good contract next year?
If I have to miss games, will that work against me?
Mike turns back to me and his tone leaves no room for discussion.
“Monty, I’ve always believed baseball is a family sport. This team has been
my family for years. We take care of our own, first and foremost. Which
means if you need to be there for Lark and your little one, you will be
supported as much as possible. I know you’ve got one of the best work
ethics on the team and your dedication does not go unnoticed.” His face
softens. “But priorities shift, son. And now, you need to turn that dedication
to your future family. The Tridents are here for you both, we’re not going
anywhere. If the time comes that you need to be with Lark, that’s where we
all want you to be.”
Well, shit. It’s not often I’m stunned silent. But I am right now. How did I
get so lucky to end up on a major league team with someone like Mike
Cartwright as the owner?
“Thank you, sir,” I choke out, my throat thick with emotion. I look over
at Lark to see her eyes glistening with tears.
Mike gives us both a smile, then leans back in his chair once more. “Now,
when are we announcing this news to everyone?”
That time comes the next morning when Lark walks out onto the field with
me as the guys are all getting warmed up for a quick practice before we
play again tonight.
I put my fingers in my mouth and blow a short, sharp whistle to get their
attention. “Hey! Get your asses over here, I’ve got news!”
Everyone makes their way over, including a few of the training staff and
coaches that were in the dugout. When they’re all loosely gathered around, I
pull Lark in front of me, and drop my hands to her stomach, cradling it
protectively.
“Everyone, meet the newest Tridents team member. They’ll be hitting the
field this fall. And if we’re lucky, in twenty years, they’ll be taking my
place behind home plate.”
There’s a split second of silence as everyone figures out what I’m saying,
and then the group erupts into cheers. Next thing we know, Lark and I are
surrounded, passed around for hug after hug.
Mike was right. Baseball is a family sport. And this team is my family.
But none so much as the beautiful woman smiling at me.

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 Chapter Forty-Two

Lark
“Are you going to answer that?” Willow asks from across her desk. We’re
having lunch together, but any appetite I had has disappeared.
“It’s my mom.”
“Oh.”
My phone stops ringing, and I look up at my friend. “Why is she calling
me? We haven’t spoken in weeks.”
Willow gets up and comes around to crouch down beside me, placing her
hand on my knee. “You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to.
But…” Her voice trails off with a hint of sorrow. Having lost her adoptive
father when she was younger, Willow knows the pain of losing a parent.
Except mine aren’t dead.
They’re just not talking to me.
Which isn’t all that different from how it’s been my entire life, I suppose.
But that doesn’t change the fact that deep down, I’ve always longed to have
some sort of a relationship with them. One that doesn’t feel like I’m an
afterthought. Or like I somehow owe them for simply being alive.
My hand drops to my stomach, feeling the slight rounding that popped
out this week. I’m just under seventeen weeks along, so the nausea has fully
subsided and I finally have some energy. Just in time, seeing as the season
is in full swing, and both Dan and I are going nonstop. I’m anxious to feel
the baby move, even though my midwife has cautioned me it’s normal not
to have felt it yet.
I just hope Dan and I are together when it happens so he can experience it
as well.
I can’t help but wonder how my mother felt when she was pregnant with
me. Did she get excited to feel me kick? Or was it just another annoyance?
Something to be endured, not cherished.
“I guess I should see what she wants,” I finally say.
“Only if you actually want to,” Willow says firmly. “You don’t owe her
anything, Lark. Not a goddamn thing.”
“She’s my mom,” I whisper, my voice cracking at the end, and Willow
pulls me into her arms.
“I know she is, but even so, if she doesn’t treat you right, then she doesn’t
deserve your energy or time.”
I pull back and pick up my phone. “You’re right. I’ll see what she wants
and then decide.”
Willow stands. “Do you want some privacy?”
My head moves side to side. “No, stay. Please?”
She moves to the chair next to me and sits down. I take a deep breath and
call my mom back.
“Hello, Lark.”
“Hi, Mom. Sorry, I couldn’t answer when you called. What’s up?”
There’s a long pause. I start to fidget in my seat, and Willow raises her
eyebrows.
“I was hoping you would meet me for lunch later this week. I checked the
Tridents’ schedule, and it seems the team is in town. Would that mean
you’re available?”
My mouth falls open in complete shock. It’s not the meeting for lunch
part that has me flabbergasted. It’s the fact that she took the time to check
the team’s schedule instead of demanding I make time and then being
annoyed when I try to say I’m away or working. I can’t recall a time she has
ever been this considerate of my schedule and responsibilities.
It feels a little like I’ve somehow landed in the twilight zone, to be
honest.
“I…I.” I stumble over my words, clear my throat, and try again. “Yes, I
can meet for lunch. Tomorrow or Thursday?”
 “Wonderful. I’ll make a reservation for us, say, noon tomorrow at
Pescados?”
Of course, she names a fancy seafood restaurant, even though I have
never liked fish. But I’ll get a salad or something, I guess.
“Sounds good, see you then.”
“Goodbye, Lark.”
We hang up and I again stare at my phone in disbelief.
“I guess I’m on my own for lunch tomorrow?” Willow asks lightly,
breaking the tension. I look up at her and nod.
“Guess so.”

The next day, I smooth my hand down the front of the dark green sweater I
chose to wear. It sort of hides my small baby bump, which is key since I
don’t know how today is going to go. I want desperately to be able to share
the news with my mother. But not if she’s going to twist it around
somehow.
That’s also why I wanted to show up early. So I can be seated when she
arrives, letting the table conceal the rounding of my stomach.
But my plan is foiled when I walk inside to see her already handing her
coat to one of the hosts. She turns and spots me, and a small yet surprisingly
genuine-looking smile creases her face.
“Hello, Lark.” She leans in to press an air-kiss in the vicinity of my
cheek.
“Hi, Mom.”
Her gaze doesn’t drop to my stomach, which I count as a small mercy, as
we’re led to our table. We sit down and the waiter asks for our drink order.
“I’ll have a glass of the Chablis, please,” Mom says.
“Just water for me.” I give him a small smile. “I have to go back to
work.”
He nods and is gone. For a long moment, neither one of us speaks.
Personally, I have no idea what to say. This lunch was her idea, but if it’s
going to be nothing more than awkward silence, I might feign an
emergency and leave.
“I spoke to Cordelia yesterday morning.”
Oh. Crap.
 I rub my hands along the tops of my thighs to try and stop them from
bouncing. So that’s what this is all about. She already knows.
“It’s not Baron’s.”
Why that is the first thing that comes out of my mouth, I don’t know. But
it is, and now I have to move on.
“I’m in love with someone from the team. We’ve been friends for a long
time, and when I ended things with Baron, I realized our friendship was
something more. We didn’t plan on getting pregnant, but it happened and
we’re very happy about it.”
I finish speaking and can feel my pulse thundering in my veins. I’m
certain my cheeks are flushed, and I might very well be leaving bruises on
my thighs from gripping them so hard.
But then, instead of the condemning lecture I’m expecting, my mother
just looks at me, her expression a mix of emotions I don’t know how to
make sense of
“Oh, Lark,” she murmurs softly. “Congratulations. Are you feeling well?”
It takes me a second to adjust, to lower my defenses enough to nod.
“That’s good. I was so sick the first few weeks with you. Couldn’t keep
anything down except for crackers and peppermint tea.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I was sick at first. That’s what made me go to
the doctor, and they gave me a pregnancy test. It was quite the shock.”
Her hand reaches out over the table, but when I don’t move to take it, she
slowly draws it back. I watch carefully as she straightens her spine, lacing
her fingers together on the table in front of her.
“Lark, I owe you an apology.”
I blink slowly.
“I know we’ve never been close. And when you announced your
engagement to Baron was over, that your relationship was over, well, your
father and I did not handle that well. I acknowledge that. But once I was
over the shock of it, I realized just how disconnected I was from my own
daughter. To not realize how trapped you felt? How we made you feel
pressured into staying with him?” She shakes her head in dismay, and I’m
instantly transported back in time to the day I told my parents it was over
with Baron.
Somehow, I had found the courage to tell them the truth. That the only
reason I stayed with Baron was because I thought it was what they wanted
me to do. Not because I loved him. At the time, my father waved his hand at
me and dismissed my feelings with a scoff. My mother, however, was
silent. I guess she was dealing with the emotions she’s describing now.
“Your father and I argued about it for a long time. He thought you were
being dramatic and your decision to end things with Baron was impulsive.
Something you’d regret. I tried to tell him I believed you and we should
support your choice.” Regret colours her tone. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out
sooner to tell you that.”
This time, I’m the one to place my hand on the table, covering one of
hers. “Mom, it’s okay.”
“No, Lark, it’s not.” She raises her head and looks me straight in the eyes.
“It’s not alright that my own daughter felt she needed to marry a man to
make her parents happy. And it’s not alright that you didn’t feel you could
tell me that you started seeing someone who made you happy. And it’s
certainly far from alright that I had to find out you were pregnant from
Cordelia bloody Hazelwood!”
“I’m sorry,” I start to say, but she shakes her head.
“Please, do not apologize. I understand why you made the choices you
did. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, not when I know your father and
I are the only ones to blame for our relationship being this way.” She
glances down, then back up again. “And for what it’s worth, the
Hazelwoods are pompous, self-righteous snobs. I’ve never liked them, and
I’m glad you’re not marrying into that family. When Cordelia called to tell
me she saw my ‘harlot daughter’ parading around town, I told her exactly
what I thought of her and her opinions.”
A broken part of my heart heals in that moment, hearing my mother
defend me.
“I thought you were friends?” I blurt out.
Mom lets out a small sigh. “Much like you and Baron ended up together
because of our families’ connection, I found myself spending time with
Cordelia simply because of your father’s partnership. I didn’t feel I had
much of a choice except to spend time with her, no matter how boring I
found her topics of conversation, or how grating her voice would be at
times.”
I choke back a laugh. Have I ever heard my mother speak so candidly? I
don’t think I’ll ever truly move on from how toxic our relationship was my
entire life until now, but this conversation is going a long way toward me
being able to forgive her and hopefully, start anew.
 Apparently, my mother feels the same way.
“I know I haven’t been a very good mother to you. Truthfully, I was
unprepared for having a child. I didn’t know how to handle the emotions
and responsibility that came along with it all, and I fear I chose avoidance
and denial instead of embracing it.” She shakes her head, and I can see her
eyes glistening. “You’ll never know just how much I regret that.”
I watch her brush away a tear, and when she reaches for me, I let Mom
take my hand again and squeeze it gently. She gives me a cautious smile.
“Do you think we could…I could…have a chance to do better? Could we
try to have a relationship? I’d like to get to know your new gentleman and
possibly be a part of your baby’s life.” Another tear tracks down her cheek.
I’m already nodding, feeling matching tears build in my eyes. I don’t
know what the future looks like for my mother and me, but I’m willing to
find out.
“I’d like that.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Forty-Three

Monty
“Should we change your nickname? Papa Bear instead of Monty? Oooh,
or we could just call you Daddy.” Yami smirks at me as he struts past, a
towel wrapped around his waist. We’ve just won our game against the
Boston Revs, and we’re all feeling pretty fucking good about how the
season is going. And because today’s was an early afternoon game, I’m
looking forward to a quiet evening with my girl.
I pretend to consider his suggestions. “If only I was older, I would make a
hot Zaddy.”
“Too young for that,” Orson calls out. It’s good to hear him joking around
again. He went through a shitty time last fall when his wife abruptly filed
for divorce.
I shrug and give them all a grin. “Call me what you want. But you best
believe I’m gonna be killing it with the dad jokes.”
“Boys, cover up. Ladies coming in.” Willow’s loud voice carries from
outside the locker room.
Everyone scrambles to make sure their bits are covered as Sin glowers at
anyone who’s taking too long. Willow struts in, followed by a couple of
other women from the marketing department. Clapping her hands, she fixes
us with a sharp stare.
 “Alright. None of you here right now are rookies, so I expect you all to
know the drill. We’ve had a good start to the season and no one has made
any messes I needed to clean up. Let’s keep it that way, okay? Don’t do any
stupid shit that I’m gonna have to deal with. If you find yourself tempted by
stupid shit, stop and think WWWD.”
“What would Willow do?” Yami says, scratching his head. “But Wills.
You’ll do just about anything!”
Sin slaps him upside the head, but it’s Willow he should be scared of. Her
eyes are glinting. “That’s right, Yami. I will. Don’t mess with me this
season.”
You can sense everyone’s balls shriveling. Willow Lawson is a powerful
woman, and now, as head of the media relations team, she’s even more
intense. I respect the hell out of her and we get along great. Probably helps
that I’ve never done anything to cause an issue with the press.
“Moving on.” She raises her voice. “Sheena and Gurdeep are here to
shoot some B-roll for socials and some short-form content. We’re stepping
up our game in connecting with the fans, which means you all need to put
on your best smiles and get ready to charm the camera.”
There are nods and sounds of acknowledgment as she looks around the
room. Once satisfied, Willow saunters over to Sin and presses a kiss to his
cheek before leaving the locker room. Her two colleagues stay behind and
make their way over to certain players to get to work while the rest of us try
to get dressed without flashing them.
When it looks like I’m getting out of here without having to do any media
shit, I make a hasty exit and head through the building to find Lark.
She moved into my place this past weekend. Despite our having a game
that evening, most of the team showed up to help, and we were done in
record time. Having her officially living with me is fucking awesome.
Seeing her toothbrush next to mine, our laundry mixed together in the
hamper, hell, even her long blond hairs clogging the shower drain makes
me smile.
I find her attempting to reach something on a high shelf in her treatment
room, her adorable grumble of frustration causing a grin to spread across
my face.
“Need some help, Birdie?” I ask, walking over and nuzzling her neck.
“Yes, I do,” she gripes. “Your darn baby is getting in my way.”
 I wrap my arms around her, cradling the growing bump. I still marvel at
the miracle every time I see her. “My baby, huh? It’s half yours, you know.
You have to take some accountability for this.”
Turning in my arms, Lark tries hard to hide her smile under a glare.
“Right now, it’s all yours. This belly is getting in the way of everything.
How am I going to work when I’m the size of a house?”
“We’ll figure it out.” I press a kiss to her lips, waiting until I feel her
soften under me. Even now, months later, it amazes me that I get to do this.
I get to touch her, kiss her, and have her whenever I want. She’s mine. The
only woman I’ve ever wanted.
“Now, will you let me help so we can go home and I can rub your feet
while you eat that disgusting olive crap?” I tease, hoping that mentioning
her latest bizarre pregnancy craving will make her smile. She’s halfway
through her pregnancy, just shy of twenty-one weeks, and the belly is
definitely growing on her small frame. I only made the mistake of asking if
it could be twins once, and I know better than to mention that possibility
again, thanks to the death glare it earned me.
“Tapenade is not crap. It’s delicious,” she replies. “But yes. Please help
me get this put away. I’m exhausted.” She emphasizes this with a yawn.
I take the boxes of supplies and get them up on the shelf easily while she
grabs her things. Then, taking her hand, we head down the hall to the
parking lot. The drive home is quiet, with Lark dozing in the passenger seat.
The midwife said it’s normal to fatigue quickly, especially with a physically
demanding job like Lark’s.
We’ve talked about her cutting back on travel and possibly even working
reduced hours as we get further on in the pregnancy, but right now, my
stubborn Birdie is determined to do as much as possible. She did, at least,
agree for Mattias to hire someone early for her maternity leave so they can
work together for a while, hopefully lightening Lark’s load. Personally, I
can’t wait for that person to start. As much as I want Lark with me,
traveling to the away games and at the stadium every day, it’s hard seeing
the toll it’s taking on her pregnant body.
When we get home, I drop a kiss to her head. “Go take a shower. I’ll
order some Thai for dinner.”
She nods and pads off down the hallway to the bedroom. I hear the water
turn on and pick up my phone to sort out dinner. Once that’s done, I scroll
through my messages and emails.
 There’s a voicemail from my mom, asking me to call her back when I
have time. The food won’t be here for another half hour, so I dial my
parents’ house phone.
“Hello?” my dad’s deep voice answers. “Dan? Great game tonight, son.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’m just returning Mom’s call.”
“Oh right. Hang on, let me get her.”
I hear the clatter of him setting the phone down, the creak of his recliner
chair being moved upright, and then his distant voice calling for Mom.
“Honey? Dan?” I hear her pick up the phone, probably the one in the
kitchen, then Dad’s back on the other one.
“Hey, Mom.” I grin, picturing the two of them on separate phones. The
way we used to talk before video calls were a thing.
“Hi, good job tonight. How are you doing? How’s Lark and the baby?”
she rattles off the questions at me, and I know perfectly well she wants me
to answer the second one first.
“They’re good. Lark’s tired, but that’s normal right now. She’s in the
shower, but if we’re still talking when she’s done, I know she’ll come say
hi.” The relationship Lark and my mom are building is freaking adorable.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s mending fences with her own mother,
but I have no doubt that no matter what happens there, Lark has a mom in
Edith Montgomery.
“Of course, she’s tired. She’s growing a human. You sucked the life out of
me for nine months, Daniel Montgomery. Make sure you’re taking care of
her properly. Water, healthy food, and plenty of rest.”
“Yes, Mom,” I reply dutifully. I hear the water shut off and know Lark
will join me soon. “So, you wanted to talk about something?”
“Oh, yes. Howard? Do you want to tell him or should I?” Mom sounds
weirdly excited.
Dad clears his throat. “I’ll let you do it, honey.”
“Well, I hope you and Lark are prepared to see a lot more of us.” She
pauses, I guess for dramatic effect? At that moment, Lark wanders out of
the bedroom, toweling off her hair. She sits beside me, and I mouth my
parents to her before putting the call on speaker.
“Mom? Dad? Sorry to interrupt the announcement, but Lark’s here now. I
put you on speaker.”
“Hi,” she says into the phone. “What announcement?”
 “I was just about to tell Dan. But this is perfect, you can both hear at the
same time.” Mom clears her throat. “We sold the store.”
I leap off the couch, tugging at my hair. “What? How? Why? When?”
“Would you like to add in where?” My dad chuckles. “Take a breath, son.
Is he pacing, Lark? He sounds like he’s pacing.”
She glances up at me, a worried expression on her face before she
answers. “Um, not yet, Howard, but he is pulling at his hair.”
“Daniel Dawson Montgomery, sit down and listen,” Mom says sharply.
“You’ve been on us to retire for years. I thought you’d be thrilled with this
news.”
“I am, Mom, but I’m allowed to be surprised. I thought you couldn’t
retire because the shop wouldn’t go for enough money with the current
market?”
“Turns out, we were wrong,” Dad interjects, then laughs. “We got double
what we were told it was valued at two years ago. Don’t worry about us,
son, we’ve got more money than we know what to do with. We’ve already
put a down payment on an apartment closer to the city.”
“And I finally convinced your dad to buy one of those fancy camper vans
so we can tour the continent,” Mom pipes in. “See you play in all those
cities we’ve never been to. Oh, we could even come south for spring
training next year, so Lark and the baby have somewhere to stay.”
“That’s a lovely idea, Edith,” Lark says, raising her eyebrows at me. I
finally sink down onto the couch and she takes my hand, giving it a
squeeze. “We’re both thrilled for you. It’s just a bit of a shock, I think. But a
good one, truly.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, it’s great news. Sorry, you just took me by
surprise, you know? I had this whole plan to convince you to retire next
year once I secured my contract.”
“Oh, Daniel,” Mom murmurs. “Honey, it was never your job to take care
of us like that.”
“I know, but I wanted to. I wanted you to know you were taken care of,
and that you didn’t have to work so hard all the time.”
There’s a beat of silence before my Dad’s voice, gruff and emotional,
comes down the line. “You’re a good man, Dan. I’m proud of you. And
thank you. But now you can focus on your family and let us be the doting
grandparents.”
 Lark leans against my arm, and I sigh into the top of her head. A weight
lifts from my shoulders. A weight I expected to carry for many more
months.
We finish up the conversation with my parents when my phone beeps
with the notification that our food has arrived. After saying goodbye, I pop
downstairs to get it while Lark sets up for dinner.
When I get back to the apartment, she meets me at the door, taking the
bag to set it down, then wrapping her arms around my neck.
“You’re still going to get an amazing contract at the end of the season.
Because you are an amazing player and an even more amazing man. I love
you, you know.”
I let my head rest on hers, breathing in the sweet smell of her shampoo.
There’s nowhere on this earth that makes me happier or feel more at peace
than right here in her arms.
She moves, tilting her head up to look at me. Love and mischief dance in
her eyes. “We could always reheat dinner.”
I raise my eyebrows quizzically. “Reheat? Why would we reheat?”
In response, her hands travel down my body to my belt buckle, which she
slowly slides open. “Because I’d like an appetizer.”
My grin tells her I knew exactly what she was getting at as I scoop her
into my arms and walk to the bedroom.
“Only if I get to eat first.”

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Forty-Four

Lark

Lark
“Yes!” The dugout erupts in cheers as Kai throws another perfect strike
into Dan’s glove. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, watching the two
of them dominate the field. As our opponent switches batters, I turn back to
the player who is currently on the bench, icing his shoulder.
“How’s it feeling, Ben?”
He grimaces, then slowly rotates it. “Better. Now it’s just my pride that’s
injured.”
“You’re allowed to fumble a catch now and then.” I give him a
sympathetic smile, hoping he doesn’t get too down on himself. He’s got a
long career ahead, and there will be plenty of catches to make — and miss.
“Thanks, Lark.” He stands up, handing me the ice pack. “I’m gonna get
warmed up.” He pauses and then frowns. “If I’m cleared?”
I nod and his frown turns into an expression of relief.
“Great.”
“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Mattias says, coming up beside me. “But
I’m betting it’s just a bruise.”
“Agreed. He had full range, just point tenderness. I think he’ll be fine.”
Together we watch the game play, wincing when the batter hits a beauty
of a line drive off Kai’s pitch. But our fielders are on it, with Rhett
snatching up the ball and tossing it to Ronan at first for an easy out.
 “It’s not going to be the same around here without you,” Mattias says
casually, turning to lean his back against the railing. “But I’m glad the
research team was willing to let you start late.”
“Me too.” And I am, happy that is, that I can start my internship in
January. But I’ll miss working with the team for those six months. By the
time I’m finished, the season will be in full swing.
The top of the sixth inning ends with the other team scoring two runs, and
our guys jog off the field with fierce determination to take back the lead
with their at bats. Dan comes straight over to me, dropping a kiss to my
forehead as his glove taps my protruding belly.
“Hey, babe. How’s Wilson?”
“He’ll be fine.” I lift my head for a proper kiss. “You and Kai are doing
great. How’s your knee feeling?”
He gives me a grin. “Just fine, thanks to you.”
For the last two weeks, his left knee had been aching slightly, but with a
few targeted strength exercises and some acupuncture done by one of our
other trainers, he’s been feeling much better.
“All I did was nag you about doing the exercises,” I tease, not bothering
to hide my stare as he strips off his catching gear in preparation for being up
to bat this inning. As he bends over to remove his leg pads, he peers back
and catches my eyes trained on his butt. He gives it a wiggle, and I instantly
blush.
“Go ahead and look all you want, Birdie.” His voice catches the attention
of a couple of the other guys.
It’s Maverick who walks past and slaps Dan’s butt, making me giggle.
“Stop shaking that ass and get your bat, Monty.”
“Told you, we’re calling him Daddy from now on,” Kai chimes in,
making my eyebrows raise.
Dan straightens and looks at me with a blush on his cheeks.
“Daddy?” I ask, folding my arms over my stomach.
His shoulders lift in a shrug. “I mean, I couldn’t be Pops, that one’s
taken.”
My smile softens at the mention of our retired pitcher, Rafe. He and Dan
were always close.
Taking a step closer, I lift onto my toes so only he can hear me. “You
make one hot DILF.”
 His groan is quiet, but it’s what he whispers in my ear that has me
clenching my thighs together.
“Do you have any idea how painful it is to have a hard-on inside a jock?”
I turn my head to whisper back, “Poor baby. I’ll take care of you later,
okay?”
He leans back with a grin. “Promise?”
I nod, licking my lips. “Promise.”
Just then, the crowd erupts in cheers, and I realize we’ve missed the start
of the inning. Mav must’ve had a great hit, seeing as he’s racing for second
by the time we reach the railing. He slides in with one arm outstretched, and
the trainer side of me winces, hoping his recently healed clavicle didn’t take
the brunt of it. He seems to be fine as he stands up, but I’ll check in with
him when he makes it to home.
“Okay, I’m on deck. Love you.” Dan kisses me again before putting on
his helmet and jogging up the steps to the field. I watch him take his
practice swings, only glancing away when our batter hits a ground ball and
takes off, sprinting for first. He makes it just in time, and Maverick
manages to make it home, having stolen third on a previous pitch.
I wait for him to come off the field before going over, watching closely
for any signs of discomfort. Mav is one of the worst when it comes to
admitting he’s in pain.
“That was quite the slide,” I say when he’s finally close by. He glances at
me, peeling off his helmet and replacing it with his cap.
“Yeah, shoulder’s fine, though.”
“Okay, good to hear. Mind if I still put you through a few moves once
Dan’s finished batting?”
All I get is a grunt of acknowledgment, but it’s enough. I turn my
attention to home plate, where Dan is in his batting stance, watching the
pitcher. I hold my breath as he winds up. The ball goes flying and he
doesn’t move. The ump calls it a strike, and I curse quietly.
The next pitch comes and this time he swings, making contact.
Unfortunately, it’s a pop fly, easily caught by the second baseman, and Dan
turns to jog into the dugout.
“Sorry, babe,” I say when he reaches me.
His grimace tells me he’s frustrated. “It happens.”
Shifting back to Maverick, I raise my eyebrows and that’s all it takes. He
knows the drill, and we work through a couple quick checks of his shoulder.
It doesn’t take long before I’m satisfied he didn’t do any damage with his
slide.
“Oof,” I say, grimacing myself when the baby decides to give a strong
kick to my ribs. “Settle down, baby bird.” I rub my stomach as Dan comes
over, having heard my grunt.
“Everything okay?” he asks, running his hands over mine.
“Yeah, just your daughter waking up.”
His face softens into a grin as he drops into a crouch to press his lips to
my belly. “Hi, baby bird. Love you, kiddo.”
Finding out we were having a little girl made Dan even more excited.
That week, he showed me the Pinterest board he started for a nursery, filled
with all kinds of baseball-themed items in nothing but purple and teal
colours.
He stands up as there’s another cheer, and we look to see our batter
making it to second, bringing the previous one home.
“We’re tied,” I exhale. It’s been a close game, which is always nerve-
racking for everyone.
“Their pitcher is on fire,” Dan admits, wrapping an arm around my
shoulders as we watch the game. “His curveball is deadly.”
Sure enough, that curveball strikes out our next player, ending the first
half of the seventh inning. Which means…
En masse, every Tridents player and staff in the dugout comes over and
crowds around me.
The voice on the loudspeakers announces the seventh inning stretch, and
then music starts to play. Everyone who can reach my stomach places a
hand or even a finger on it. And right on cue, our little girl starts to go
crazy, flipping around, punching and kicking.
It doesn’t feel great, but it is special the way everyone gets excited,
wanting their chance to feel the baby enjoying the cherished tradition of
“Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” It just proves the idea that family isn’t
always about blood. It’s about the people who love you, respect you, and
support you.
It can look like many things, and for Dan and me, it’s an entire baseball
team and staff celebrating our daughter.
The players all raise their voices near the end of the song, something that
started a few weeks ago when the team had the strongest second half of an
inning ever after singing along to the final few words.
“For it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out, at the old ball game!”

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 Chapter Forty-Five

Monty
“You realize you have to give her back to me eventually, right?”
I tuck my teeny-tiny daughter into my chest and turn away from Lark’s
hospital bed with a glare. “Not unless she’s hungry. I can do everything
else.”
She chuckles, then winces, and I immediately feel guilty. Turning back, I
gingerly sit on the edge of the bed.
“Fine, fine. I guess you need the oxytocin boost this little one is giving
more than me.”
She looks at me dryly as I transfer Stella into her mama’s arms. “Gee,
you think?”
Once my girls are settled, I lean back on the cramped hospital bed, resting
my hand on Stella’s back.
“You’re amazing, you know that? I knew you were strong, powerful, and
brave, but holy shit, Birdie. Watching you give birth, watching you bring
our daughter into this world, I…” I choke up again.
Lark leans her head forward and kisses Stella’s downy head before
turning to look at me. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I give her a watery smile. “Yeah, you could have, because you can do
anything. But I’m so happy and honoured I got to be here by your side.”
 “You did cut it a little close,” she remarks, and this time, I’m the one
wincing.
“Yeah, sorry ’bout that. You didn’t exactly give me a lot of warning.”
“Kind of hard to predict how fast these things will go.”
“Still, waiting till the fifth inning to say anything?”
Stella lets out a little sound, and both of us immediately look down. I’m
not sure if it’s normal to be so laser-focused on such a tiny human being,
but I swear, every time she moves or grunts or anything, the rest of the
world falls away.
As if she’s been a mom for a lot longer than less than twenty-four hours,
Lark maneuvers our little girl into a nursing position. It takes a few tries,
but soon, she latches on, and it’s the most beautiful sight in the entire
goddamn universe.
Lark leans her head back with a tired sigh. And she’s got every right to be
exhausted. I might have been in the middle of the last game of a three-game
stretch when Mattias pulled me off the field and said Lark and my mom
were headed to the hospital, but she’s the one who went through a day and a
half of labour pains at home before things ramped up to that point. Thank
fuck we weren’t traveling. I should have listened to my gut when it told me
not to go to the game tonight. But she insisted, and with my mom promising
to get in touch if anything happened, I reluctantly went.
I’ll never forget the drive from the Tridents’ stadium to the hospital.
Willow drove me because there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to do it
safely myself. Not with how nervous, excited, and terrified I was.
I got here just in time to hear Lark moaning her way through a fucking
intense contraction, and from there, things moved at warp speed.
Our little one, Stella Marie Montgomery, was born just forty minutes
after I arrived. Six pounds of squalling, scrunched-up beauty.
It was love at first sight.
“You made it and that’s all that matters.”
I kiss Lark’s forehead, letting my lips linger against her skin. I never
thought I could have this. A love so deep, so strong, and so consuming. But
here I am, loving my girls with every fiber of my being.
“I’ll always be here for you, Birdie. You and little bird. You’re my whole
life, you know that.”
Lark tilts her chin up and we kiss. It’s sweet, soft, and gentle. Mindful of
the tiny human currently sucking on my girl’s boob, I don’t press in any
deeper. No matter how much I crave feeling her in my arms.
A gentle knock on the door has us breaking apart. It slowly opens and my
mom peers around the side. “Hi kids, are you up for some visitors?”
I look to Lark and she nods. “Sure, Mom,” I say, getting up from the bed
and taking a once again sleeping Stella so Lark can cover herself back up.
Mom and Dad are the first ones in. They’ve already met Stella, but Mom
still coos over her while Dad gives Lark a gentle hug.
“Room for any more?”
Willow and Sin enter next, holding a teddy bear and a piece of paper.
After quietly closing the door, Sin heads over to Lark while Willow makes
grabby hands for the baby.
“Gimme that sweet girl.”
I gingerly hand over my daughter, and Willow’s face beams with
happiness. “Oh Lark, she’s gorgeous.”
I glance over to the bed, just in time to see Sin hand Lark the piece of
paper. “Peyton drew this for you. She says it’s your family.”
Lark bursts out in laughter, then instantly winces. “Dang it, I love it, but I
don’t want to laugh right now.”
Well, now I want to know what’s so funny. Moving to the bed, I look
down at the paper and clap my hand over my mouth to muffle my snort of
amusement.
“Uh, hey, Sin, does your daughter know what people look like?”
My teammate rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Apparently they all look like dicks.”
Sure enough, Peyton has drawn three stick people. Except, instead of
sticks for bodies, the shape is much more…twig and berries looking.
“Please thank her for us,” Lark says, her eyes twinkling.
Another knock lands on the door, and Lark looks to it with her eyebrows
raised. “Did someone put out a welcome sign or something?”
Willow immediately looks guilty. “Yeah, that might be my fault. When I
got back from dropping Monty off earlier, I told the guys what time we
were coming to visit. I think they want to meet our newest Tridents team
member.”
I walk over and open the door, and sure enough, Yami, Mav, and Darling
are all standing there with hopeful grins.
“Sorry, I tried to tell them too many visitors would be a bad thing but
they didn’t listen.”
 Craning my neck around, I see Sadie walking up with two coffee cups. I
reach for them, simultaneously glaring at the guys. “You are welcome,
bringer of lifeblood. The rest of these yahoos can wait outside.”
“C’mon, Monty, we wanna meet our girl.”
Yami’s whining isn’t convincing me of shit. I let Sadie slip past me, but
then my dad opens the door wider.
“We’re heading out, son. Lark said your friends can come in. Your mom
and I will go to your apartment and tidy up. Let us know if you need
anything.”
I pull him in for a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
After hugging my mom as well, I turn to the guys, folding my arms
across my chest. “You will be quiet. You will not swear. You will not make
Lark laugh. And I swear to God, if one of you wakes up my daughter, I will
beat your ass.”
They each nod, and I let them in. Lark is now sitting up, cradling her
coffee in her hands. “Hey, guys,” she says as one by one, they make their
way over to give her a hug. Don’t get me wrong, I love that my teammates
all adore my girl and want to meet my daughter. But all I want right now is
to go back to being alone with Lark and Stella in our own little bubble.
Because when I see Willow hand my baby girl off to Yami, I have to clench
my fists to prevent myself from taking her back.
“It’s scary shit, isn’t it? Seeing your kid, your flesh and blood, out there
in the world.”
I turn at Sin’s quiet voice.
“Even when they’re with people you know and trust, some instinct kicks
in. Must protect what’s mine. Makes you feel kinda caveman. But it gets
easier when you remind yourself that the more people loving your kid, the
better.”
I exhale slowly, letting his words sink in. “So you mean that feeling like I
want to rip her out of Yami’s arms and kick everyone out is normal?”
Sin chuckles. “Yeah. Totally normal. And if you really want everyone out,
I’ll make it happen. But everyone here loves you, loves Lark, and loves
your little girl. Just remember that.”
I look at Lark, at the smile beaming across her face, as she talks with
Sadie and Willow. Then at the guys who are all peering down at Stella, now
cradled in Darling’s arms. They’ve got the goofiest grins on their faces.
 And something settles in me. Sin’s right. More love is never a bad thing.
Moving over to the bed, I sit down next to Lark again, lifting my arm so she
can snuggle in.
I set my coffee down on the table next to the bed and use that hand to tilt
her chin up to my face. “Thank you for making my dreams come true,
Birdie. Even ones I didn’t know I had.”
Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I love you.”
I smile and press a kiss to her lips, feeling hers turn up in response.
“I know.”

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 Epilogue

Monty
3 years later
After I smile for the hundreds of cameras pointed my way, I hand off the
trophy to Yami, who has just as many tears coming down his cheeks as I do.
“We did it, brother,” he says, hoisting it over his head. “Woo!”
Damn right, we did.
With three years left in my career, I finally made it. The Vancouver
Tridents are the league champions. And everyone I love is here to celebrate.
Well, almost everyone.
Unfortunately, our daughter Stella, who I still call baby bird, has the flu
and had to miss the game. But I know Lark’s mom will have it on the TV.
Speaking of my wife, I finally get my eyes on her, winding her way
through the crowd, a wide smile on her face. She was kept busy the entire
game, as not a single one of us stubborn assholes wanted to sit out even a
second of play, no matter how tired, sore, and bruised we were.
Closing the last few steps at a run, Lark leaps into my arms, wrapping her
legs around my waist. “You did it!” she yells, only sort of into my ear. I spin
her around before setting her down, grabbing her face in my hands and
kissing her deeply.
We break apart when the voice of Sin and Willow’s daughter Peyton
reaches us.
 “Congrats, Uncle Monty!” We turn as one and pull her in for a hug.
“Thanks, kiddo. Your dad was the real star.”
Peyton rolls her eyes the way only a nine-year-old can. “He did okay, but
it was Darling that got the winning run.”
“It’s a team sport,” I chide gently, knowing the girl has a bit of a crush on
our southern boy.
“I know,” she admits before turning at her name being called by her
grandmother.
As much as I love the kid, I’m glad to have her attention elsewhere so I
can focus back on my girl. My wife. My love.
We were made for each other from day one. She just needed some time to
catch up to me in realizing that.
But once she did, there was no stopping us from free-falling into love and
happily ever after. There’s nothing better than waking up every morning
with her in my arms.
The life we’ve made, it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. It’s more
than I could ever dream of.
“Hey, earth to Dan.”
I blink at Lark’s hand waving in my face. “Sorry, Birdie. Did you say
something?”
“No,” she replies with a soft smile. “You just looked lost in thought.”
I lean down and squeeze her tightly. “Just thinking about how damn lucky
I am.”
“It’s not luck when you play a good game.” She laughs.
I kiss her deeply before replying, “I’m not talking about the game. I’m
talking about you.”
The look of love she gives me is better than any championship. “I’m the
lucky one. Lucky you never gave up on me and never stopped loving me.”
She kisses me this time, and for a few seconds, the noise and the crowd
disappears. It’s just us.
Until two hands are on my shoulders and Darling’s southern accent is in
my ear. “How ’bout that, Monty! Champions!”
I turn to see him grinning at us. He moves to drape his arms over our
shoulders, making his way between us.
“That last run, Darling, that was amazing,” Lark says, leaning into his
side affectionately. Darling’s face lights up as he steps forward, his arms
dropping from our shoulders.
 “Yeah, thanks, Lark.” We’re quickly forgotten as he walks toward the
woman coming our way with a wide smile.
I pull Lark in front of me and drop a kiss to her head as we watch the two
of them kiss. Now that was an interesting time, watching Darling fumble
around as they tried to figure their shit out.
The crowd has started to thin as players and staff clear from the field. I
don’t want to go. I don’t want this night to ever end, even though a part of
me is anxious to get back and check on Stella.
“Hey, Birdie.” I lean down, squeezing her even tighter into my chest.
“Wanna go make out in a storage closet with me?”
She slaps my arm and laughs. “No! You’re nuts.”
“Nuts for you, maybe.”
“Oh my God, stop.” She turns in my arms, looping hers around my neck.
“No storage closets.” She slaps my stomach, pushing me away with a laugh.
I step back, running my hands down my body. “What, you don’t want all
this delicious dad bod goodness?”
It’s a good thing most of the press has left so they don’t hear Lark’s snort
of amusement.
“You don’t have a dad bod, Dan. Far from it.”
I nod sagely and take her hand to lead her off the field. “You’re right, it’s
far more of a father figure.” I bend over and kiss the side of her head.
“Something I never imagined I’d be until you finally admitted your love for
me.”
“You mean until the condom slipped,” she replies dryly, but her eyes are
full of love.
“That, too,” I agree as we reach the dugout. I jog down the steps first and
turn to face her, placing my hands on her hips. “Hey, I love you.”
She leans into my hands, letting me lift her down the stairs as she kisses
the tip of my nose.
“I know.”

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Catch up with all the Vancouver Tridents by starting Break The Rules
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 Acknowledgements

This was probably the book I have been the most nervous and excited to
publish. Writing a story with a controversial plot point like an unplanned
pregnancy is risky, but I'm glad I took the chance and I hope I did it justice.
Thank you to Katie D for sparking the idea for it!
Monty and Lark would not be who they are without the incredible
plotting help from my coach Nancy, always helpful feedback from Kelly,
Carolina and Jess, and the editing prowess of Chris and Andrea. I owe you
all for making my work shine.
Alex, Theresa, Chelle, thank you for keeping me sane and somewhat on
task… I don't think I can write a book without you.
And to the husband and kiddos. Your love and patience keeps me going.
XOXO Julia

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 About The Author

Julia Jarrett is a busy mother of two boys, a happy wife to her real-life book
boyfriend and the owner of two rescue dogs, one from Guatemala and
another one from Taiwan. She lives on the West Coast of Canada and when
she isn’t writing contemporary romance novels full of relatable heroines
and swoon-worthy heroes, she's probably drinking tea (or wine) and
reading.
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