Page 68 of The Double Play

“Okay, Daddy, I guess I can try to be patient.”

I squeeze her to my side. “That’s all I ask, that you try your best.” I push off the bed. “Now, get some rest so you’ll have plenty of energy to play with Miss Hazel tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” she says at the same time that she yawns.

After another round of saying our goodnights, I crack the door behind me and head toward the back of the house, then walk outside. I told Hazel to take her time, so I don’t expect her to be out anytime soon, but it will be nice to clear my head. Though that might be difficult, considering all that’s going on right now.

I would have had a plan for how to handle a relationship while being in the public eye if I’d thought that I’d ever need it. Now, not only do I have to announce my relationship, but I have to tell everyone I’m dating my daughter’s nanny. That’s not going to paint me in a good light. I wouldn’t care what the press thought about me if it didn’t affect June, but it does. And Hazel too. I have to put my hope in Brock handling everything so that we minimize as much negative press as possible.

The media is the least of my concerns right now though. Hazel hasn’t said anything, but I know she’s got to be thinking of what to do with Raven. Their mom isn’t in a state to take care of her, and based on what happened in New York, neither is their dad. So that leaves Hazel, who I know would become Raven’s guardian in a heartbeat. She’d move Raven into her tiny apartment in downtown Nashville and worry for her sister whenever she wasn’t with her.

I look out over the hills and trees that shield my parents’ house from view. The house that is sitting empty and will continue to for at least the remainder of the year, based on the last update my mom gave me. It would be an overstep on my part to offer Hazel the house, but it kills me to think about the two of them living in that building with no security.

I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. Red flags and a chorus of alarm bells are sounding off in my brain. I’m moving too fast, and at this speed, the slightest wrong move will end in catastrophe. My instinct is to care for Hazel since she doesn’t have anyone but herself to do that, but if I go too far or insert myself too much into her life…she might get scared and leave. Then I’ll be left with a heart in worse shape than before I met her and a daughter who will feel abandoned again.

I can’t mess this up. I won’t.

The sound of the door opening makes me turn around. Hazel steps out, her bare feet sinking into the grass. The light from the porch casts a golden hue over her warm brown hair that’s in a wet braid across her shoulder. She wears a tired smile that has me crossing the yard to pull her into my arms. She lays her head on my chest over the heart she’s taken ownership of. I breathe in her scent. She smells of freshly cut citrus and sugar.

“How are you holding up, Wildflower?” I ask in a soft tone.

“I’m making it,” she says with a half-laugh. “Could be better.”

“How about we sit down for a while? We don’t have to talk, we can just be together.”

Her arms squeeze around my middle in answer. I lead her to the lounge chairs we had our first kiss in, and pull her into my lap just like I did the night before. Except this time, she tucks her face into the crook of my neck and relaxes against me. I run a hand up and down her back, the soft linen of her pajamas caressing my palm.

She draws in a deep breath and lets it out. I smile as I feel her relax even more.

“There you go, just breathe, my brave girl.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” she confesses in a broken whisper.

“That’s often when we’re the most courageous, when we don’t feel it at all.”

She doesn’t say a word, but I feel a tear fall on my skin. I shut my eyes and wish with all the world that I could bear this weight for her. That I wasn’t too scared of losing her to try. Since I can’t, I just hold her and hope that’s enough.

Chapter thirty-three

Hazel James

IfIcouldpersonallythank the designer of baseball pants, I would. Even in a practice uniform, Emmett looksgood. He invited me to watch his practice today while June and Raven were at school. I thought it might get boring, but there’s something captivating about how intense his focus is. It makes me think about the times that focus has been directed at me…which only serves to make my already pink skin even brighter.

I take a sip of my iced matcha, then press the cold plastic cup to the side of my face. The condensation wets my cheek, but it staves off the heat. The only downside of being here is the blazing weather. Emmett put me in a shaded part of the stadium, but the Tennessee sun is brutal. My Nashville Cowboys t-shirt is sticking to my back, and my hair is in a messy pile on my head because the cute half-up, half-down style I had it in felt suffocating.

Emmett looks my way and I quickly lower the cup, then wave at him. He tips his hat. I hope he can’t see my discomfort. He seemed excited for me to come to his practice. I know if he thinks I’m not feeling well in any way that he’ll insist on me heading home. He deserves for me to be here supporting him like this. A little heat is nothing compared to what I’ve put him through the past couple of days.

When he turns his attention back to the pitching coach he’s been training with, I pull out my phone. No news from the phone interview I had for a job at a daycare. It’s not my ideal situation–I prefer being a nanny to one or two kids–but it will do.Ifthey want to hire me, that is. I still haven’t said anything to Emmett, and it’s been three days since I told Raven she could live with me. We’ve been staying in his guest wing, though we should have left already.

I couldn’t do anything without a plan though. Now I have one, and I just have to work up the courage to tell him–and sweet June–that I’ll be quitting. Then we can date normally. Well, as normally as a professional baseball player and his ex-employee can manage.

My phone starts to buzz in my hand, but the number on the screen isn’t the daycare’s. I have that one saved. I answer quickly anyway, in case it might be a second number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Hazel James?” a male voice asks.

“It is.”

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