Page 45 of Riding the High

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ginger

76 days to go

The whole house smells like sugar and vanilla. I pull the last batch of cupcakes out of the oven and place them on a cooling rack while Mabel mixes icing on the other side of the kitchen island. It’s hot today but not sticky, and there’s a beautiful breeze coming through the open window facing the backyard. Five days in and I’m starting to learn where everything is in Cole’s very orderly house. For a single man he keeps everything extremely neat, and Mabel seems to know where everything goes as we wash dishes.

We’ve spent the better part of the afternoon decorating the living room, baking cupcakes, setting up snacks and readying the house to resemble Cole’s worst nightmare. His house, covered in Cincinnati Reds décor. A fuck ton of it. Tonight the Yankees play my beloved Reds and what kind of a stepmom would I be if I didn’t share my love of the game with Mabel? I secretly can’t believe she agreed so easily to wear the t-shirt I bought her with the name and number—6—of one of my favorite players, Jonathan India, on the back. It might earn me a divorce before I’ve even made it through my first full week, but I can’t wait to see the look on my husband’s face.

We’re just getting the pizzas in the oven when we hear Cole walk through the door. Mabel and I look at each other and wait.

“Vixen! Authority!!!” Cole’s voice booms. He must be taking in the Reds banners, red balloons, and giant 6 balloon which Mabel and I spent the morning picking out. We break into a fit of giggles and, when he comes into the kitchen, I hold the plate of cupcakes up, trying to ignore how goddamn good he looks in his sheriff uniform. The dark brown short-sleeve button-down clings to his strong upper arms and is tucked into tan, fitted uniform pants. The way everything molds snugly to his body has my heart rate increasing just looking at him. Add in the badge on his chest, and the holster around his narrow hips, and I’m practically panting. Damn it, this night was supposed to be about torturinghim.

“We made you some cupcakes,” I say sweetly, though a little breathlessly.

Cole’s jaw sets. “You corrupted my house? Mydaughter?” he snarls.

Mabel laughs. “I like Ginger’s team. The shirt is a prettier color than my Yankees one. But look, Daddy, Ginger put my scrunchie in,” she says, turning her head so he can see the Yankees scrunchie Mabel told me he bought her for Christmas in her hair. He brings his gaze back to me.

“I’d never corrupt her, Cole. I can’t help it if she knows greatness when she sees it.” He grunts in response but I push on. “Red really is a pretty color.”

He looks down at the jersey I’m wearing. It was my grandad’s Barry Larkin jersey and, this afternoon, I’ve paired it with my denim cutoffs. I turn to show him the back. Signed by Larkin.

“Where’d you get that?” he asks, his tone curious.

“My grandad,” I reply softly.

“Ginger’s grandad used to take her to all the games,” Mabel says. “They ate nachos and he taught her how to play baseball. Just like how you taught me!”

Cole’s face instantly softens. “Cute. But this is still unacceptable,” he says, pointing around at the décor. He looks down at the plate in my hand and hesitates, as though he’s trying to decide if they might poison him. “But these do smell really good.”

He picks up a cupcake, pulls the pick out and tosses it behind him dramatically.

“Daddy!” Mabel laughs as he stuffs the little cake into his mouth.

I smile smugly.

“Still unacceptable,” he says as he chews. “It may take some time, but I’ll be plotting my revenge.”

He points back and forth between Mabel and me with a mock-serious look on his face before heading for the shower, but I don’t miss the look he gives me from behind Mabel’s back on the way past.

“Fucking. Done. For …” he mouths slowly, and the dark look in his eyes brings my core to life.

I turn to Mabel the moment he’s out of sight and we both break out into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“I can hear you!” he calls from down the hall, which makes us laugh even harder. Torturing Cole is way more fun with a little teammate.

Cole returns ready for the game thirty minutes later in his Yankees jersey. He sits on the opposite side of the couch from us, announcing it’s the home team’s side and muttering something about us being traitors.

By the time we’ve reached the end of the sixth inning, dinner is long done, it’s pushing eight-thirty, and Mabel is getting tired as she settles into the massive pillow fort she and I created earlier. Cole follows Mabel into the fort to cuddle with her. He’s been surprisingly quiet since his Yankees started losing by two runs.

“Come inside, Ginger?” Mabel asks with a yawn. She’sagainst one side of the fort and Cole is in the middle, which means the only place I can lie down is beside him.

Cole watches me with a face I can’t place. Though he seems just as unsure as I am about us being in such close proximity. I give my head an internal shake and tell myself not to think twice about it before making my way in.

Mabel and I really outdid ourselves with the fort; it’s covered in fairy lights and the opening is the perfect size to allow us to see the entire TV.

“You’ve jinxed my Yanks,” Cole whispers to me as we all settle in.

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