“You bet. And even though I’m a grownup myself now, technically, anyway, my mama still takes care of me.”
Rocky stands too, his face smoothing out in an attempt to stay composed. It’s a look I could identify anywhere, a guise I put on often to keep everyone from reading what I’m thinking. Once I was drafted into the league, I learned real quick you have to keep up your guard. Keep shit, like feelings, to yourself or be exploited.
“You’re a baseball player. Your mom still does stuff for you?”
“Man, you better learn this now,” I say, chuckling. “You will always need your mom. Even when you’re a grownup and have your own house, sometimes your mom is the only one you can count on when you don’t know how to make microwave macaroni and cheese. She’s the only girl you can count on, so make sure you take care of her.”
His yellow-sock-clad feet shuffle against the linoleum. “The doctor said I might not get to be a grownup. The stuff inside me is fighting the medicines.”
The wind knocks right out of me, the same way it does when my brother, Ford, is being an ass and tackles me when we’re playing touch football at family barbecues. Only this time, there’s no hand to pull me up. Just a little boy looking at me, wanting me to say something. To be the adult.
“Rockster, I . . .” I crouch to his level, certain he can spy the lump in my throat. He reminds me of Huxley, my brother Barrett’s soon-to-be stepson, with the way he looks at me like I can fix the universe. If only I could. “Doctors don’t know everything.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I had fun painting with you today.”
“And I had fun painting with you too.” The words leave my mouth automatically, but as they ring through the room, I realize how true they are.
“Hey, guys.” Danielle’s voice fills the small room off the main corridor, and Rocky looks at her over my shoulder.
“Hi, Danielle,” he says.
I turn sideways, still crouched, and look up at her. Even from this vantage point, she’s something to look at. An understated beauty, fine features, with a magnetism I can’t quite put my finger on, she has my full attention. As I stand, a full-blown smile drifts across her face.
“Looks like the two of you had a good afternoon,” Danielle says, one heel crossed in front of the other. “What did you think, Lincoln?”
Grabbing Rocky’s boney shoulders in front of me with one hand, I muss up his hair with the other. “I think this kid is the next Van Gogh.”
Her laugh dances into my ears. “Good to know. You ready to go get some lunch, Rocky?”
“Yes! It’s pizza!” He tosses me a wave and races through the door, nearly knocking a laughing Danielle over.
“He’s a cool kid,” I say when she finally looks at me. Her cheeks match the color of her shirt as she smooths her skirt like my sister, Sienna, does when she’s nervous before a fashion show.
“He is.”
“I think he thinks I’m pretty cool.” I try not to laugh while she decides if I’m serious or not.
“That’s subjective,” she says finally, backing out of the doorway. “I need you to sign a release, if you don’t mind. Even though you’re here for the day only, I should’ve had you do it before you started.”
I let the “day only” thing slide and follow her down the hallway. As we approach the elevator, it dings and a man in hospital scrubs exits.
“Danielle,” he says happily, too happily, extending a hand.
An easy grin touches her lips as she places her palm in his. “How are you, Dr. Manning?” she asks, clearly comfortable with this guy I’m absolutely sure I don’t like. I might even hate him.
“Great. Just dropping by your boss’s office. Gretchen is down this hallway, right?”
“Yes,” Dani confirms. “I’m not sure that she’s in though. Our department is in the middle of budget hearings.”
“I was thinking of grabbing a coffee in a little while. Can I get you something?” he asks, taking a step towards her. So do I.
“No, thank you,” she responds politely. “The place across the street has great espresso if you need something quick and hard.”
I gulp. The asshole nods, a sparkle in his eye that makes me want to stake a claim to Danielle. As my brain races to come up with something, he turns to me, his brow cocked. “You look familiar,” he says.
“It’s the face,” I say, starting after Dani down the hall.
“Are you Lincoln Landry, by any chance?”
Danielle pauses mid-step, her head turning to me. Her teeth tug at her bottom lip. I search her eyes, a swirling blue that could sink me if I let it. And I would really fucking like to let it, but I’m sure it’s going to be as hard as hitting a fastball from our starting pitcher.
“Me?” I laugh. “Hell, no. I hear he’s way bigger and better looking than me.”
I feel Danielle release a breath right before her heels start down the hall again. With a little salute to the doctor, I follow her.
“You lied to him,” she says under her breath as she enters her office ahead of me.
“Would you rather me tell him I’m me and have him coming back to shoot the shit?”
“No,” she says quickly.
I ignore the idea that maybe she might be inclined to chat with the good doctor and press on. “Me either.”
She laughs. “Why is that, Landry?”
“I think he’s an asshole.”
“He is not!” she exclaims. “He’s here for training from Phoenix. He leaves next week.”
It’s obvious I just relaxed, but whatever. “Good.”
“Lincoln Landry, are you a little jealous?”
“Of that? Please,” I scoff.
Her head shakes, a chuckle escaping much to her chagrin. Instead of answering me, she fishes through a drawer and pulls out a file. A piece of paper is slipped across the desk with a bright red circle scrawled in the middle and an X denoted on the bottom.
She holds my gaze and doesn’t say a word for a long time. The air between us crackles, and at the same time, I remove my hat and she tugs at the collar of her shirt. We both notice, but don’t bring it up, and instead, exchange a knowing grin.
“Can you just fill this out?” she asks breathlessly.
“Sure.” I give it a quick review before reaching across her desk and picking up a pen right by her arm. My forearm skims the inside of her wrist. Her gasp at the contact ripples through the room and heads straight for my cock.
I don’t look at her. I don’t want to embarrass her. I also don’t want to let her know how badly I want her, and if I look at her right now, she’ll know. It’s written all over my damn face.
And the crotch of my shorts. In an attempt to adjust the package, I reach inside the pocket and try to discreetly get comfortable. As I pull my hand out, I grab my wallet and sit it on her desk like it was the intent of my movement. With a still-raging hard-on, I fill out the circled information, sign the document and scoot it back to her again.
“Landry” she breathes, just as her desk phone rings. Her lips are pressed together, obviously torn about what to say next.
“Take it,” I say, smirking. “I was just leaving anyway.”
“I . . .” she says as I turn my back and head out, leaving her hanging.
Let’s see what you do at the plate, Dani.