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Caught Up (Windy City, #3)(43)

Author:Liz Tomforde

“Hi, little man! I missed you this morning.”

Miller unhooks one of her overall straps and pulls him out.

“You look like a kangaroo wearing him like that.”

“But like a hot kangaroo, yeah?”

She passes Max to me over the barrier as I stay silent, not answering her question that’ll get me in trouble. Because yes, her carrying my son around, even if she’s doing it in a weird Miller way, is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

“There’s my guy.” I pop a couple kisses on his cheek. “Are you my little kangaroo?”

He giggles.

“Look at you in your jersey,” I say, running a soothing hand over his back where our last name is. “You’re ready for the game, huh?”

Max falls onto my shoulder, burying his head in the crook of my neck and knocking his tiny baseball hat off his head. I catch Miller watching him—us—with a soft smile.

“Max-a-million!” Isaiah exclaims. “Are you here to watch your uncle absolutely dominate on the field?”

My brother takes my son from me, running him to the infield and showing him off to the rest of the boys. Max smiles while my entire team dotes on him, as if we don’t have a professional game we need to focus on in less than an hour.

With my hands up on the barrier between the field and the stands, I watch as Isaiah holds his nephew on his hip, running him around the bases, only to be greeted by the rest of the team at home plate.

My heart physically aches, but it’s not from the time away or the missed moments with my son. It’s because for the first time since Max came into my life, I feel like I could have it all.

A small hand lands on mine as it sits on the padded barrier, and I look up to find Miller watching me.

“He’s never been to one of my games before,” I tell her, my voice a bit hoarse. “Thank you for bringing him, Mills.”

A single brow lifts. “Mills, huh?”

“Don’t try to ruin the moment with humor, Montgomery. I’ll call you whatever the hell I feel like.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The woman next to her coughs into her fist, reminding us that she’s there.

“Baseball Daddy, I mean.”

I simply shake my head at her.

I’ve quickly learned that Miller isn’t great with sentimental moments, so instead of saying anything in that regard, she simply squeezes my hand. I squeeze back, the two of us having a silent conversation in the crowded stadium. Her telling me she’s backing up her promise to help me find balance in my life and me finally accepting some help.

“I’m going to go show him around the dugout.” I lean down, picking up Max’s hat, but as I walk backward, I keep my attention on her. “I don’t see you wearing number twenty-one. Where’s your jersey?”

“I’m more of a fourteen gal myself.”

Her softball number.

I keep my mouth shut to not let out that I’ve looked at that photo of her on her dad’s desk too many times and know the reference well.

“If you’re going to start coming to my games, I better see Rhodes on your back and I’m not talking about my brother.”

“Is this some athlete kink you got? Need to see a girl in your jersey?”

The old flirty side of me that I’ve kept hidden and locked down for the most part since Max came into my life is itching to break free.

I pop my shoulders. “I like to see pretty girls in my jersey. Like to take it off them too.”

Miller’s lips part, a shocked and satisfied grin lifting on the corners. “Well, with that kind of promise, I’ll be sure to wear it next time.”

My chest heaves in a laugh she can’t hear because I’m too far away now, and though Miller’s blatant comments are meant to rile me up and they hold no guarantees behind the words, I can’t deny that they make me feel like my old self, the one who was happy and light without the weight of more responsibilities than one person could handle alone.

Only, the best part of it all is that my son is here, and I still feel that way.

The training room is packed post-game because besides the flight home, we finally have the day off tomorrow. Most of the guys are getting their treatment done tonight so they don’t have to meet with a trainer or team doctor in the morning before the flight. I’m one of those guys, looking forward to sleeping in as much as my son will allow, so with an exercise band tied around a pole, I pull it away, giving my rotator cuff some light work.

Typically, I’d be rushing out of here, especially after a loss, hoping to get back to the hotel in time to put Max down for the night, but for the first time all season, I don’t feel the need to make up for those missing moments.

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