Page 52 of Sometimes You Fall

“For what?”

Scottie glares at her son. “For not putting you in jail!”

He rolls his eyes before walking past me. “Thanks.”

Scottie sighs as Chase leaves the garage, not bothering to wait for her. “Same time on Saturday?”

“Yeah. Have you, uh…decided when to tell Chase about the baby?” I hate the sound of desperation in my voice, but keeping this from him is only going to make matter worse.

“Um, not really.”

“Well, there’s a game tomorrow, so maybe you can tell Chase about the baby on Friday. That way he knows before he comes back on Saturday. Fridays won’t work in the future, just an FYI. I have to take my niece to her dance class sometimes on Friday nights for my sister, so Saturdays will work best.”

“You’re a dance uncle?” Scottie teases.

“And damn proud of it.”

Something briefly sparks in her eyes, a glimmer of appreciation maybe, or reverence, but I can’t be quite sure because she darts her gaze from mine in a flash and heads back for the office to follow Chase to her car. “Have a good night, Grady.”

“Keep growing our kid, Scottie,” I call after her.

The smirk she gives me over her shoulder is one I won’t soon forget. I’ve seen it before, and now my mission in life is to make sure that I never have to live without it again.

Chapter ten

Grady

“Tighten it up!” I call out to Chase on the mound. Our eyes meet and he nods—thank God—taking my coaching seriously. The kid might have a fucking attitude at the garage, but on the field, he’s actually fucking listening.

I’ll take what I can get.

Chase waits for the call from the catcher. They agree on the pitch, and then he hurls the ball toward home plate, striking out the kid at bat.

“Hell yeah!” Scottie cheers from behind me, and I can’t help but laugh at her outburst.

It’s our first home game with Chase pitching and me as a coach, and that rush? The thrill of the game, the strategy, and the laser focus it takes to win at baseball? God, I didn’t realize how much I fucking missed this.

My gut was right on the money about putting Chase on the mound. The other boys are starting to come around too, as we end the top of the sixth inning, up by seven runs.

“Nice job, kid,” Ryan tells Chase as he runs past him into the dugout.

“Thanks, Coach.” Chase takes a seat on the bench, chugging from his water bottle as a few of the other players congratulate him.

Ryan turns to me after sending our first player up to bat. “The arm on that kid.”

“I fucking know it.” Chewing my gum, I watch Ryan call out to the players up to bat. Then murmurs behind me catch my ears.

“Looks like Reynolds found his new protégé,” one of the boys mutters from the bench.

“Maybe he’ll be able to prove that he’s not washed up after all,” the kid beside him replies.

I spin on my heels and close the distance between me and the kids, narrowing my eyes at Trent and Jared. Of course it’s these two running their mouths.

“You have something to say to me?” I grate out, attempting to rein in my rage because fighting with punk-ass teenagers wasn’t on my agenda for the day, let alone my life as a thirty-five-year-old man.

“Nope,” Jared snickers, covering his mouth with his hand.

Ryan rushes over to me as the rest of the team crowds around. “What’s going on?”

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