Page 21 of Passed Ball

The doorbell rings, and when I open it and find Tenley, alone, my eyebrows pull together. Vivienne was supposed to come with her and then we were going to ride together. Tenley insisted it was practical since she doesn't have a car. We agreed she'd use one of mine moving forward.

"Look at you, giving off main character energy in that suit. You're a solid seven."

"Seven?"

"With the suit on," she repeats slowly, letting the veiled meaning

sink in.

"You remember I'm your boss, right?"

"And you remember the last nanny you had diddled and dipped, right? Would you prefer I had an unhealthy attraction to older baseball players?"

Yeah, that's a fair point--one I can't contest. I look to my side, catching my gaze in the mirror. "It's the dark circles I'm sporting, isn't it?"

"Sure. If that makes you feel better. Where's Holland?"

She flits past me, breezing through the house like she owns it, while I stand in the doorway, confused. "Holland's in the swing, in the living room!" I yell at her back, still standing at the open door. I swing it shut as I move to follow her and figure out what's going on when something stops the door from closing all the way.

"You almost took my toenail off and that definitely would have been strike three."

Vivi's sweet voice sounds lighter and more relaxed than when she usually talks to me. I turn, finding her framed in a halo of light from the setting sun, making her look like an angel standing on my front porch.

I already know she's pretty, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing her in something other than her professional wardrobe. It sucks the air from my lungs, leaving me completely defenseless.

Her dress is black with threads of gold that make it look like it's woven from stars. The bodice clings to her curves, giving her cleavage that makes me weak in the knees, and layers of sheer fabric fall in panels, giving way to a slit that hits high on her thigh.

This dress was made to highlight all the dangers her body poses to my sanity, but it's outmaneuvered by the woman wearing it.

Her dark hair is pinned in an elegant twist, leaving the long column of her throat exposed. Her eyes glitter like emeralds, accentuated by a flick of iridescent green liner. I've never paid this much attention to a woman's makeup before, but I'm mesmerized.

What's even more ridiculous, I can't stop staring at her neck. Her hair is usually down in perfect waves, hiding it from view. Now, with it bared, it feels intimate--like she's inviting me to lean closer, to catch the scent of her shampoo.

I force myself to meet her gaze and open my mouth, but nothing comes out. There's only so long I can stand here gawking before it gets awkward for both of us, so my gaze drifts over her one last time, trailing lazily up her body.

Stepping aside, I gesture for her to come in. With her back to me, I take a steadying breath and lick my lips, ready to try again. Taking a calculated risk, I rest my hand on her lower back, guiding her toward Tenley in the living room. She doesn't slap it away, and that small mercy gives me the courage to speak.

"Vivienne, you look incredible."

She tilts her chin up, curiosity flickering across her face and sending my thoughts into chaos.

"I mean, you always look great, but tonight--wow--you know?" I run a hand through my hair, a habit I've picked up lately, and then quickly drop it, remembering I'm supposed to look presentable tonight, not like an exhausted dad.

She chuckles softly, and I can't even be embarrassed, not even when it's clear she's laughing at me. Because for once, she doesn't look annoyed or like she wants to murder me. Instead, her eyes sparkle with amusement, and I soak up every second of it like a man starved.

"Thanks." She lifts a finger, tracing the outline of my jacket lapel without touching it. "You look . . ." She takes a shaky breath, and I swear I see her shiver before dropping her hand. "You look really nice too, Xavier."

A little flustered by her attention, I smooth a hand over my jaw.

The irritation I'd felt earlier about going, fades. Tonight might not be so bad. For a few hours, I can be something more than just a dad--starting now.

I lead Vivi to the living room, where we find Tenley, lying on her side, deep in play with Holland, who's gurgling up at her. The sight melts away some of the dread over leaving.

"You know, Tenley told me I was a seven. At least one of you has some sense," I say, playfully.

"I told you, you were a sevenwiththe fancy suit. Don't overinflate my praise." She doesn't even bother looking up from my daughter as she insults meagain.

Vivi hums thoughtfully, her gaze sweeping over me, and for the first time since learning I was going to be a dad, I care about something unrelated to my daughter, or baseball. I want her to dispute that and tell me that a seven is way too low.

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