Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“All right, I’m going to show your mom how to bat,” Landon says to Hunter. “Go easy on her.”
Hunter laughs. “I’ll try.”
I grab a bat and step onto the home plate. Landon stands behind me, and wrapping his arms around me, shows me how to hold the bat. It shouldn’t be sexual, especially with my children right here, but the way his groin rubs against my backside, and the way his strong arms envelop me from behind, has me wanting to turn around and attack him.
“Put this hand here.” He places his hand over mine and glides our hands down the bat. “And this one here.” He does the same thing with my other hand, and I swallow thickly, trying to ignore the way my body is reacting to his touch. “Your knees should be slightly bent and your toes should be pointed toward the plate.”
I do as he says.
“Good, now spread your legs just a little more so they’re wider than your shoulders.”
When I spread them, trying to figure out what he means, he chuckles into my ear. Then letting go of my hands, he bends and wraps his hands around my ankle. “Like this.” He moves my right foot back a little bit. As he stands, his fingers graze the side of my leg and a shiver runs up my spine. He’s totally doing this on purpose.
“Stop it,” I hiss noncommittally.
“I’m not doing anything.” He chuckles, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “Hunter, you ready?” he shouts.
“Yep.”
“When you see the ball get close, swing,” Landon instructs.
Hunter throws the ball, but the second I see it coming for me, instinctually I shy away and jump back. My butt hits Landon’s front and he grips my hips, saving us both from falling over.
“Looks like we’re here just in time!” Bridget laughs, holding each of the twins’ hands. They spot Ella, who is now using the white chalk line drawn onto the grass as a balance beam, and go running toward her.
“Great, an audience,” I grumble.
“You got this,” Landon says, helping me set up the bat again. “The ball can’t hurt you. Just swing with everything in you.”
Hunter throws the ball, and I do as Landon said, swinging the bat as hard as I can. Not realizing how heavy it is, my entire body ends up swinging around with the bat. Landon jumps back just before it whacks him in the shoulder.
“Whoa! Sorry!” I drop the bat. “Are you okay?”
I can hear the peals of laughter around me, but I focus on Landon, who looks to be torn between laughing and running for his life. “I’m all right,” he says. “This time, I’m going to stand back.”
Bridget snorts out loud, and when I glare at her, I see she’s holding her phone up. “You are not recording me!” I yell.
“No, I’m not.” She shakes her head. “I’m Facetiming with Simon. He’s at work and couldn’t leave to come here and watch.”
“Bridget!”
“Just pretend like I’m not here.”
“Mom, c’mon,” Hunter says. “You got this.” I’m about to tell him I’m done, but when I look at him, he’s grinning from ear to ear. His matching green eyes are sparkling with laughter and happiness, and in this moment, I realize it doesn’t even matter if I suck or if I never hit the ball. All kids want is for the people they love to be a part of what makes them happy. Hunter might’ve been groaning over me playing, but right now, he’s smiling, and that is everything. He’s growing up too fast. Soon, he’ll be thirteen, and next year he’ll be starting high school. My time with him is limited, and if it means I make an ass out of myself in order for him to see I care, then so be it.
Stepping back in front of the plate, I do as Landon showed me once again. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Hunter winds up and throws the ball. I swing the bat as hard as I can and am shocked when it connects, making a loud banging sound.
“You hit it, Mom!” Hunter yells. “Run to first.”
I do as he says and start running. Realizing I still have the bat in my hands, I throw it down. Only I must’ve thrown it harder than I thought, because a second later, I hear a “Oh, shit!” from Bridget, who never curses in front of our kids. I turn to see what happened and find Landon on the ground, holding his face in his hands.
Bridget and the boys run over to Landon, who’s now slowly lifting his face. Oh my God! His lip is busted and blood is dripping down his chin.
“Here!” Bridget grabs a couple wipes from her diaper bag and hands them to Landon, who takes them and dabs his lip.
“I am so sorry,” I cry, dropping to the ground to take a look at it. It’s definitely split, and it might even need stitches. “Bridget, come look,” I beg. She’s a nurse. She’ll know.