Page 71 of Finding Out

“I forgive you.”

“Can we go inside? There is something I’d really like you to take care of for me.”

I nodded and held the door open for her. “I’ll do anything. What do you need?”

A small smile graced her lips as she brushed past me. “Not something to do, it’s something to take care of.”

Confused by her statement, all I could do was follow her. Inside, two tall, broad men in matching tuxes waited on us. Chris’s eyes found Avery’s instantly, but Tom stood with his arms crossed, his focus intent on the two of us.

“I’m not going to be around as much, so I could really use someone to take care of Dad.” She smiled at me, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. “And I can’t think of anyone better to do it.”

Eyes misting over, I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

She threw her arms around me. “I always thought of you as family, a sister. I’ll have to adjust to stepmom, I guess.”

With a watery laugh, I pulled back and wiped at my eyes.

Chris cleared his throat. “Let’s give these two a minute. Come dance with me, wifey.”

“I love the sound of that.” She gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek, then let her husband drag her back to their party.

“So.” I stepped toward Tom.

“I take it she gave you her blessing?” His lips pulled up in the corners.

“You did it.” I stepped closer, and when he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me in, I went willingly. “You got everyone on board.”

“I will move any mountain that stands in the way of your happiness, Wren. You can always count on that.” He pulled back and grasped my hands. “Now let’s go dance.”

I scoffed. “I thought you didn’t dance, Daddy Wilson.”

“There is not much I wouldn’t do for you baby girl. Plus, it’s time for the entire world to find out that you’re mine.”

Everyone finding out that I was his? Nothing sounded better than that.

Daddy Wilson

I squatted in the grass,leaning on the metal bat in front of me and frowning at my right fielder.

“Don’t pull up, Bosco. You got to keep the swing even,” I shouted.

“His bicep is probably burning.” Our catcher, Asher Price, glared.

True, because the dumbass had decided to get a tattoo on his throwing arm yesterday. Not only was Bosco’s fielding sucking because of it, but his swing was fucked too.

These days I might understand loving someone enough to do dumbass things, but we had games to win.

“I just hope he doesn’t regret it,” Asher mumbled.

“He might regret not making the big gesture more.” I glanced up at the frustrated man towering over me.

I’d heard the rumors. Not from my guys, though. I actually didn’t think most of the team knew. But Asher’s wife had left him right before spring training.

“Wren,” he muttered like a curse.

I cocked a brow. “Don’t hate on the fact that our women are close. We’re gone a lot. They need each other.”

“You and Wren are new. Talk to me in ten years when the honeymoon is over.” He shook his head.

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