Page 56 of Passed Ball

Thisistoo much. Tenley was right. Situationships don't do this. I should leave. The other girls are here and they'll be more than happy to help with Holland. But when I look at Tenley, I know I can't bail on her, especially not after what an asshole I was the other night.

"Ladies, I'm going to need you to chill. She's one comment from a freak out.It'snot that deep," my niece says, her tone placating and making me feel like one who needs a babysitter.

Thankfully, they take pity on me and don't say another word about the fact that Holland is clad in her dad's number, thanks to me. Instead, they refocus their giddy chatter on the guys who are jogging out onto the field for warm-ups.

Next to me, the girls are gushing over their men, and it stings because I want to join in, but Xavier's not mine. Not really. I rub my knuckles over my breastbone, trying to ease the ache there. I'm as left out now as I was as a teen. Or maybe the sting there is because of the man in question. I don't know and I'm not sure I want to.

All of that is washed away when he steps out of the dugout and spots me in the crowd.

If I was brave enough to claim him publicly, I'd be vocally celebrating the way his pinstripe pants hug his thighs, highlighting the sharp line of his quad muscle that you see through the fabric. There'd be raving about his devotion, not just to his little girl--the same one that's suddenly being thrust into my arms--but to his sport.

"Hold her. He'll want a picture of this."

The look she gives me spells trouble, but it's nothing compared to my ovaries twitching at Xavier's approach. The All-Star catcher eats up the dirt between us with his sure strides. The uniforms alone are hot, but the catcher's gear gives him an edge over everyone else on that field.

His cocky smile fades, replaced with genuine awe when he notices the jersey his daughter is wearing.

Raw emotion paints his face, his hand dragging over his mouth as his steps slow. He looks from his daughter to me and I lick my dry lips, trying to hear anything over the pounding in my ears.

A sound that gets louder when he flips his hat backward as he approaches the net. When he's all but pressed against the black barrier, I step forward, bringing Holland to him.

There's not a functioning brain cell in my body as Xavier reaches through the net with his fingers and takes his daughter's hand. Luckily, for both of us, Indie springs into action, working the zipper on the net free, creating an opening a few seats down.

"Did you do this?" he asks quietly, as he follows me down the row.

"Tenley planned the game, but yeah, the jersey was me. Is that okay?"

"Is it--" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Yeah, it's okay, sweetheart. It's more than okay. No one's ever done something like this for me before."

I look up from where he's scooping a sleeping Holland out of my arms to find wonder glittering in his icy blues. My heart kickstarts in my chest and I know that if I get the chance, I'll keep doing things like this for him because, judging by the way he grabs on to my wrist, squeezing gently, no one else ever has.

"Thank you," he mouths as he dips his head to bury his nose in the crown of red hair that matches his own.

The moment is short but no less sweet as Tenley snaps a few more pictures. There's a shout from behind him and Xavier glances over his shoulder, then back down to his daughter before he leans through the netting and places her back in my arms for safe keeping.

His strong arm comes around my shoulder, nearly throwing me off balance when he pulls both of us to his chest. "Meet me after the game." He nods towards the woman watching behind us. "The girls can help you three get down there."

"We'll do our best, but it's kind of up to this one."

Xavier folds over us brushing a kiss on Holland's cheek. "Be good so daddy can thank Vivi properly after the game." My blood heats at the unspoken meaning behind his statement.

Stepping back, he focuses his attention on Tenley over my shoulder. "I want copies of those pictures. You made my whole season, kid."

"Don't make it weird, Ginger Daddy, it was nothing."

He shakes his head and I cringe at the nickname. Xavier jogs back to his team and an usher comes over to zip the window up. It's a good thing too, because I'm busy watching number seven cross the field, his tight pants giving me the best view in the stadium.

"Don't drool on the baby," Tenley says with a healthy dose of sarcasm, taking her from my arms.

"Ginger Daddy," I mumble to her, my head cocked in question.

"It drives him crazy, and not in the same way it would if it were coming out of your mouth."

I snicker. She's the same way with my brothers, always doing her best to get under their skin. "I bet it does."

She returns to her seat with Holland, looking smug.

"What exactly are your intentions with our catcher?" Poppy asks, leaning over the arm of her seat.

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