Page 62 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“To make our books better. Why?” Chad thought he had an idea where this interrogation was going, but wanted to make sure.
“And that’s all?”
“What else would there be?”
“That’s what I’m asking you. Because, as I’m sure you’re aware, Daisy has a very promising future ahead of her with Ethan.”
“Oh, that’s where you were going,” Chad said, pretending like a light bulb just went off over his head. He snapped his fingers in exaggerated realization. “Actually, I’m kidnapping her, and we’re getting married on my surfboard. We’ll send you and Rick pictures. I mean, Ethan.”
Daisy’s face blushed bright red, while Chloe’s hand shot up. “Oh, can I be the maid of honor? I can make airbrushed bikinis with ‘Team Chad’ for me and the bridal party.”
“No!” Daisy jumped in before this got completely out of hand. “There’s no kidnapping and no surfboard wedding.” She turned to Chloe. “And definitely no airbrushed bikinis.”
“Bummer,” Chloe sighed dramatically. “I was already designing it in my head.”
“Now, Chad and I really need to be going,” Daisy said, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder.
“Of course,” Ava said. “Wouldn’t want to keep the children waiting.” The double-meaning wasn’t lost on anyone, a reference to both Chad’s baseball team and his own maturity level.
“I’m RSVP’ing right now for your surfboard wedding,” Chloe said. “I’m betting it happens.”
Daisy groaned. “Bye, Chloe. Bye Ava,” she said, pushing Chad out the door.
“Oh, and Daze?” Chloe called after her, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What?”
“I get to be godmother when you have kids.”
“No!”
The late afternoon sun slanted across the baseball diamond, turning everything golden. From her perch in the bleachers, Daisy watched Chad run drills with his team, her notebook forgotten in her lap. She’d come prepared to take notes about baseball terminology and player dynamics for her novel, but found herself distracted by something else entirely.
For the fourth time since declaring their cease-fire, Chad McKenzie surprised her. And not in a bad way.
He stood near the pitching mound, a bucket of baseballs at his feet and a whistle hanging lazily around his neck, gesturing animatedly as he gave instructions to his team. The boys hung on to every word like he was part coach, part big brother, part comedian.
“Alright, who’s next?” Chad called, shielding his eyes from the sun as he squinted toward the group of players lounging by the dugout. “Robbie? No? Still scared to bat? Fine, Rory, it’s you. Let’s go. Don’t trip over your shoelaces this time.”
The boys laughed as Rory jogged toward home plate, where Chad helped position him before stepping back and clappingonce. “You got this. Oh, and no weird swings this time. Just hit the ball, not the air. Cool?”
The crack of the bat echoed across the field a second later. The ball popped into the sky, spinning toward the outfield, and Chad’s grin stretched wide. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about! Someone give Rory a medal, or Gatorade, or something. Who’s next?”
Daisy found herself smiling. It was nothing like Ethan’s careful, measured interactions with the analysts at his firm. Chad genuinely connected with these kids, seamlessly blending coaching with life lessons and just enough teasing to keep them engaged.
It was endearing. Endearing enough that Daisy felt a small, unexpected tug in her chest. Something soft. Maternal. And maybe a little wistful. Between joking with them, tweaking their stances, and offering everything from advice to high-fives, it was clear how much they trusted him. They looked up to him, but not in a ‘scared of authority’ way. It was more like they liked him, like he was their friend, their mentor, and their coach, all in one.
“Hey, Coach!” A boy with braces and a mop of curly hair called from the pitcher’s mound. “Watch this!”
He wound up and delivered a pitch with a dramatic spin, sending the ball curving in an impressive arc.
Chad let out a low whistle. “Looking good, Diaz! You’ve been practicing that breaking ball like I showed you, haven’t you?”
The boy’s face lit up with pride. “Every day in my backyard. My mom says the fence might not survive the summer.”
“Small price to pay for greatness,” Chad replied with a grin. “Try it again, but this time focus on your follow-through.”
Something warm unfurled in Daisy’s chest. She’d always wanted kids, a whole houseful, running around with skinned knees and big dreams. But whenever she brought it up withEthan, he changed the subject to his five-year career plan or the housing market in Boston.
