Page 45 of Fielder's Choice

I can’t deny how my body heats up whenever our eyes meet. His gaze is both blazing and soft. His eyes darken as he watches me move, but they’re gentle as he sees me with his daughter.

The butterflies I feel around him are stronger right now than they’ve ever been. So I decide I should be a little more bold than I usually am.

I look right at Lane, hooking my finger and coaxing him my way. “Get over here, Hotshot.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he’s quickly moving forward, thumb running over his bottom lip while he does.

“Miss me, Livvy?” he rasps, eyes raking over me.

“You were just staring at us across the room,” I tease. “I’m just trying to get you to stop being creepy.”

Lane places a hand on my hip, looking down at me as time stands still. I get lost in the flecks of green sprinkled through his irises.

When his tongue darts out and he licks his bottom lip, I can’t help but wonder what it might be like to kiss him. To feel how soft his lips are when they press against mine.

My breathing is heavy as he replies to my teasing. “Didn’t realize it was creepy to watch you dance, Livvy.”

“More so the way you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

He chuckles lightly. “Have you seen yourself? You’re a goddamn dream,” he says lowly, ensuring Sage can’t hear.

“D-dream?” I stammer.

He can’t mean that. My life is more like a fucking nightmare.

“Yeah. You’re a fucking dream. And the more I get to know you, the more I like what I see.”

“I’ve been through a lot, Lane,” I breathe. “I’m not someone you’d want to get involved with.”

“Why don’t you let me determine that, Ballerina?”

He thinks that now, but when he learns all about me, he’s going to run for the goddamn hills.

Our trance isn’t broken until Sage pipes up. “I hungwy, Daddy,” she says, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt.

Lane shakes his head and snaps himself out of… whatever that was. “Then I think it’s time for some dinner, Lovebug!” He looks back at me now. “How do you feel about pizza, Olive?”

After the three of us are full of pizza—Lane thinks the fact that I eat olives on my pizza is hilarious—and we have a tea party, complete with boas and hats just like the picture I have saved as his contact in my phone, Sage is exhausted and ready for sleep.

I decide to wait for him on the sofa so I don’t interrupt their bedtime routine. Once Sage is out like a light, Lane comes back out and sits directly beside me, wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. I know what gray sweatpants are supposed to do, and I can say with confidence that Lane canreallypull them off.

“Sage asleep now?” I ask, turning on the seat and crossing my legs in front of me. He mimics my position.

“Didn’t take her long to fall asleep at all,” he chuckles. “I think you wore her out, Liv.”

“A Taylor Swift dance party will do that for you,” I laugh.

He smiles at me sweetly. “You know my daughter adores you, right?”

“Yeah,” I grin. “I adore her, too. She’s the sweetest little girl.”

“She’s the best. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, but I love her to bits.”

“They do say parenting is hard.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “It’s tougher when you don’t have any family left.”

“You don’t have family around?” I ask gently.

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