Dugout

Raising my cousin's three kids wasn't in my five-year plan. Actually, it wasn't in any plan. One minute I'm a single labor and delivery nurse living a quiet life and the next, I'm navigating guardianship hearings, meltdowns, and homework I'm pretty sure requires a math degree. Enter Hayes Carlisle. My best friend's older brother. Chicago Colts newest catcher. And the man I once kissed and immediately pretended I didn't. So, when the custody battle I've been dreading becomes a reality, I shouldn't be surprised that Hayes swoops in with a wild idea-a fake relationship. According to him, pretending we're together will polish his image and prove to the court I'm not taking on an instant family alone. But pretending to be Hayes' girlfriend is a terrible idea. Because he remembers how to make me laugh. Because he looks at me like our kiss wasn't a one-time mistake. Because the kids start asking him to read bedtime stories. Because my heart starts wanting things my life doesn't have room for. I can manage the chaos. I can fight for these kids. But pretending not to fall for Hayes Carlisle? That might be the one thing I can't do.

Getting pregnant after a one-night stand with my brother's best friend was never part of the plan. We're talking about Foster Davis here. Chicago Colts closing pitcher. The broody king of one-word answers. And the man everyone knows keeps one foot out the door. Surprisingly, when two pink lines turn my world upside down, Foster doesn't run. He steps in, he shows up, and he insists we do this together. Pretending we're fine is easy. Pretending this is just about the baby? Not so much. Because Foster is gentle when no one's watching. Because he looks at me like I'm something worth protecting. Because the walls he's built start to crack-and I'm the one he's letting inside. Our arrangement was supposed to be simple. Boundaries were set. Co-parents and no catching feelings. Okay, maybe a few sex lessons were added in too. Bad idea, I know. Because the more time I spend with Foster Davis, the harder it is to remember why I ever thought he was the risky choice.

I'm the coach's daughter. Falling for one of my father's players was never the plan. Especially not Decker Davis. Chicago Colts third baseman. Dependable. Steady. The guy everyone trusts. And the man who's spent years keeping his distance-especially from me. We have history. The kind that ten years and a thousand miles can't touch. So, this time, I promised myself I'd be smarter. No getting attached. No blurred lines. And definitely, no falling. He broke every last one within the first week. Because Decker doesn't just show up for me. He shows up for my daughter. Because he fits into our lives like he was always meant to be there. Because he looks at me like I was never something he wanted to lose. And suddenly, the walls I've spent years building don't feel nearly as solid as they used to. But if I let him in, I'm not just risking my heart-I'm risking hers too… and I already know what losing him costs. I won't let my daughter pay that price.