Page 59 of Passed Ball

Vivi hums thoughtfully, talking to Holland who's happily sucking away on a bottle now. "The heavy burdens of making the play of the day with that catch."

Tenley scoops up the diaper bag, ready to help. "That's fine. I can stay, or we can head home." Every word is genuine, but before she can cross the small space and grab Holland, I step forward, bringing me nearly chest to chest with Vivi. Holland's content, nearly asleep as she eats in her arms.

"No, head out. I can take things from here." I'm looking at Tenley, part of me not ready to give up on the idea of more time with her aunt tonight. It's selfish, stupid, and definitely beyond the bonds of what we agreed to. "You should enjoy what's left of your night."

"That's not--"

I cut her off. "Go have some fun. You deserve the time off."

"Someresponsiblefun," Vivi tacks on.

"If you say so." Tenley holds out the diaper bag and both Vivi and I reach for it at the same time. Her invested gaze snaps between us.

"I'll take the bag. You take the baby," Vivi says, hiking it up her shoulder and stepping in close, giving me a tempting glimpse of her cleavage as she slides Holland into my waiting arms.

Tenley waves and follows the crowd outside leaving us behind.

"You don't need to . . . I'm sure you have plans." The words taste wrong on my tongue, but I force them out.

Vivi crosses her arms under her chest, the swell of her soft breasts straining against her tank top. "Big plans." The corner of her mouth betrays her, twitching, despite her attempt to appear serious.

"Is that so?" Flirting with a baby in my arms is new for me, but the natural give and take between us makes it impossible to stop.

"Oh good! You're still here. I thought you bailed. Time to head to the press room," Piper, the club's manager of media relations, says. "Is Holland coming?"

"Yes," I answer.

"Okay! The female audience will eat that up." She glances at Vivi smiling. "I see you've got the arsenal of supplies. Let's find you a seat in case dad needs backup."

I'm about to protest, when Vivi grins up at me. "I've got faith in you, but an extra set of hands with live cameras never hurts."

There's an extra octave in her voice that's not normally there. She's flirting back and I fucking love it.

God, I hope these postgame remarks are brief.

Chapter 27

Vivienne

This isn't normal, not for me. Men holding babies have zero effect on me. None. Never have. But the man in front of me, still clad in tight baseball pants and a shirt that clings to every dip and swell of his muscled body, is fuelingsomany fantasies right now.

It's purely a carnal reaction, driven by biology, because there's no other explanation for how I feel watching Xavier fully own this single dad gig. He's got confidence I haven't seen from him since last year--only less boastful and more settled. It has me nearly combusting.

Sitting in the back of the pressroom to listen to his postgame remarks, I'm like Baby inDirty Dancing. If someone asks me why I'm here, the only thing I'd be able to tell them is I carried a diaper bag. That's how dumbfounded I am looking on as he shifts his hold on Holland, commanding the room.

Xavier sits at the long table with a microphone in front him, owning the attention of all the reporters, all while cradling the sweetest baby in his arms. He holds Holland's pacifier in place while answering question after question with witty remarks and thoughtful responses. Piper eats it up next to me, clasping her hands under her chin while he charms the pants off everyone in the room.

"Xavier, how do you like your team's chances at the postseason?" a young reporter in the second row asks.

"Great question, Jack. There's no arguing that we have the talent--the heart is there too. Every guy in that locker room is hungry. We're doing our best to stay healthy and taking it one game at a time. It's all we can do, but yeah, I wouldn't bet against us."

"This is PR gold," Piper whispers when Holland's tiny fist balls up, lifting in solidarity with her dad.

It is, but more than that, Xavier looks at ease and genuinely happy.

Postgame remarks wrap up and he heads straight through the crowd of reporters, blazing a path towards me. I grab the diaper bag at my feet and stand to meet him halfway, because following his lead is all I'm capable of in this state.

Xavier stops in front of me and our height difference has never been more obvious as it is while he smirks down at me, looking pleased as pie. With his daughter in one arm, he takes my chin, tilting it up. It's a simple touch, nothing overtly sexual, yet the claiming nature of it has my tongue darting out to wet my lips.

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