Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

by Liz Tomforde

roll my eyes, leaning in close to speak to my son. “Wave goodbye to Monty and tell him he’s getting grumpy and kind of ugly in his old age.” “I’m forty-five, you dick, and you can only hope to look this good in thirteen years.”

The woman in the elevator simply lifts one of her two Coronas in a farewell.

I twist my hip to keep him from getting his little fingers tangled in her hair in a way that sounds awfully fun right about now, but this woman is not only drinking one beer at nine a.m. on a Thursday, she’s drinking two.

Out of my periphery, I catch her looking at Max with a little smile. “You’ve got a cute kid.” You’ve got a cute everything, is what I want to say in response.

She offers me her second Corona. “It’s nine a.m.” “And?” “And it’s a Thursday.” “We’re judgy too, I see.” “Responsible,” I correct. “Jesus,” she laughs. “You need something stronger than a Corona.”

“Maybe he should loosen up every once in a while. He’s got a cute-ass kid and an even cuter smile when he shows it.” She lifts her Corona to me before chugging the rest and exiting the elevator. “Thanks for the ride, Baby Daddy. It was…interesting.”

“Get off the elevator, Isaiah,” the man to my right says, and while yes, they’re both

objectively good-looking, this one is offensively attractive. He’s got a backwards hat on, dark-rimmed glasses, and a toddler in his arms with a matching cap for goodness’ sake. I try my hardest not to look too closely, but I can see the dark hair spilling out around the edges, ice-blue eyes framed by those glasses. Scruff slopes over his jawline, screaming “older man,” and that alone is my kryptonite.

“Fine.” She stands from her seat, taking her chai with her, that sweet scent of dessert wafting from her again before she turns to me. “But so you know, I’m doing this as a favor. So, try to be less of a dick about it, yeah? See you later, Baby Daddy.” She stops at the door, her hand on the knob as she cocks her head in contemplation. “Or should I say, Baseball Daddy? Oh yeah. Much better. Baseball Daddy, it is!” She leaves us alone with that. I shake my head in disbelief. “Your daughter is unhinged.”

“She’s the best, right?” Monty’s chest rumbles at my annoyance. “You can’t be serious about this. There’s no way she’s the right person to take care of Max.”

He leans back in his chair, tattooed hands crossed over his stomach. “I’m not just saying this because I’m biased, but you’d be lucky to have her. She might be my wild child and not know what the hell a filter is, but when it comes to work, she’s th...

“And Ace,” he calls out. “Keep your dick in your pants. We all know how fucking fertile you are, and I’m too young and too

goddamn attractive for someone to be calling me Grandpa.” “Jesus Christ,” I huff, leaving his room.

“He’ll be on his hands and knees most of the time.” “As all men should be.” Isaiah makes his presence known with a childish squeak of a laugh. “I like her,” he says. “Well at least one of the Rhodes boys does.” “Two,” I interject. A flash of confusion and maybe a bit of hope washes over her face. “Max.”

“What do you say? Wanna hang out with me while your dad is working? We can watch his game and make fun of how tight his pants are.” “You’ll be watching?” “The game? Or your ass?” “Both.” Miller’s greens dart to me over her shoulder.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” I hear Travis chime in from down the bench, talking to my teammates. “About time Max got a hot nanny,” my brother says.

“About time we got a hot nanny. We deserve this,” Cody, our first baseman adds.

“He needs your help, Miller. He doesn’t know how to ask for it and I’m not sure if he knows how to accept it, but if there’s anyone who could bulldoze their way in, it’s you.”

“You want me to rub up on him?” “Off, Miller. I said ‘off.’” I pop my shoulder. “I like my version better.”

Hands in my pockets, I nod toward the opposite side of the house. “Come.” “God,” she moans, head falling back. “I can’t wait to hear you say that in the bedroom.” Jesus. I wouldn’t know where to start figuring out how this woman’s mind works, how she makes these connections.

head at her as I typically do, I take a step into her, invading her space before leaning down to keep my voice low but clear. “If you’re as terrible of a listener in the bedroom as you are in real life, Miller, I can promise you this, you wouldn’t be allowed to come.” Those pretty lips part, jade eyes wide. “Two can play this game, Montgomery. Now, let’s go.” I nod toward the other side of the house once again.

Her lips press together, holding back a grin. “You keep talking like that, Kai, and I’ll be ditching the ‘baseball’ part and just be calling you ‘daddy.’” A laugh bursts out of me, a smile mirroring the one on Miller’s mouth.

There’s something about Miller, something so fierce about her personality, that my gut knows loyalty is deeply ingrained in her. So, no, she wouldn’t be flirting with me if she had a boyfriend.

Kennedy’s elbow digs into Isaiah’s right calf. “Oh, holy fuck!” he screams, biting into the padded table to muffle the sound. He lets out a strangled whimper, his voice cracking. “Kenny! Kenny!” “That’s it, baby. Let it out like a real man.”

The entire room is in hysterics as my egotistical brother melts into the table, squirming to get away from her. “You like hurting me?” he asks, sitting up and getting out of her reach. “Little do you know I like pain. Some might even call me a masochist in the bedroom.” Kennedy is trying her hardest to hold back her smile. They’ve worked together for three years and my brother has tried his best to get her in his bed. It hasn’t worked. Though, the girl used to have a diamond on her left ring finger, and this season she doesn’t, so who knows, maybe that’s reignited his determination.

“You’re okay,” he says, soothingly. It’s spoken in a way he might say those words to his son if he fell and bumped his head.

It’s gentle and steady, and works far too well on my chaotic brain. I melt into him, my arms sliding around his lean waist. “You smell good.” His chest rumbles against my cheek. “I showered after the game this time.” “Does that mean you trust me with your son?” “Don’t ask me that, Montgomery. You’re in a fragile state, and I’d have to lie to you so I don’t feel bad.” “Kai?” “Hmm?” “Why are you hugging me?” He exhales, my body moving against his with the movement. “I don’t know. You seemed like you needed one. I’ve been told I’m a fixer so I guess it was instinct.”

Using the nearest dish towel, I wind it back, whipping it against his ass. “Nice try, Miller. But it’s all muscle. I didn’t feel a thing.”

And right there at the base of the aircraft stairs are Kai and Max. Kai is rocking the backwards hat today, painfully handsome in a tee and shorts that cut above his knees. It’s the first time I’ve seen his legs and I’m not sure what I was expecting, or if I was expecting anything really, but they’re thick, cut, and corded. Didn’t know a man’s calves could be hot, but here we are. And he’s got… Is that a thigh tattoo peeking out past the hem of his shorts? Who would’ve thought stick-up-his-ass Kai had some ink?

screaming. “Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s too late to be getting deep on you.” “It’s never too late to go deep in me, Baseball Daddy.” A startled laugh bursts from my lips, breaking the tension. “You’re ridiculous.” She smiles and I like it far too much. I want to stare at her, tell her too many things when she’s looking at me like that. So instead, I dip under the water and swim away until I feel her on my heels, taking my same path in the pool.

“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.”

There’s a naughty tilt to her lips. “You should come.” I choke on my own saliva because Miller is fucking Miller and said that with so much innuendo, it’d be impossible not to pick up on the alternate meaning. “Fucking gross,” Monty mutters.

“Come on, Mills. Show me how the youngins shoot the shots.”

“God, you’re a thirty-two-year-old Boomer, aren’t you?” “Proudly.”

“You okay? You were so confident only a minute ago. You’re not going to gag, are you?” I pop my shoulders. “Hopefully later.”

She throws her hands up. “Oh my God! You’re impossible. You need to go. I’m not your problem to worry about.” Turning, she heads back up the way we came, but I stop her, pinning her against the wall, the two of us meeting on the same stair. “Yes, the fuck you are.” She stares right at me, not backing down. “Kai, I am not your problem.”

My attention dips to her lips. “Be my problem.” Swallowing, she tilts her head, testing me. “Then do something to make me your problem.” Fuck me. I’m so frustratingly into this woman, so I do just that.

“The only time I’ve thought about reaching out to my dad was when I found out about Max. For a split second I thought I should tell him he was a grandfather.” “But you didn’t?”

“Nah. Didn’t need to. Monty kind of earned that title right away. Even though Max doesn’t call him that, it would’ve been weird to give it to someone else.” Oh, my heart. “Yeah,” I exhale. “My dad has a knack for earning his titles when they aren’t automatically his to begin with.” “He’s a good man.” “The best of the best.” “Snores like a motherfucker though.” I bark a laugh.

“Your food is beautiful, Miller. It’s artwork.” He holds no humor in his tone, not allowing me to laugh my way out of an uncomfortable compliment.

“Gratitude and peace?” I turn to look at him. “I think I could find a lot of gratitude and peace while in bed with you, Kai Rhodes.” He bursts a laugh. “You have no fucking filter.” I smile at him, feeling an overwhelming comfortability to tell him everything. Much in the way he’s never had someone to talk to, neither have I.

“I get it.” I pull away a bit, giving him space in the bed. “Where are you going?” “Giving you space. You just said⁠—” “A man can cuddle.” My brows shoot up. “Cuddle?”

“Yes, cuddle. Or have you never heard of the term?” I pause, hesitating. “Have you never cuddled before?” he asks. “No. I cuddle with your son. I’ve just never⁠—” “Have you never cuddled with a man before?” “Can we stop saying the word cuddle? It doesn’t sound right coming from you. You’re huge and hot and you’ve said the word cuddle more times in the last thirty seconds than I have in my entire life.” A knowing smile lifts on his lips. “Miller Montgomery, you cold, unattached woman. Get over here and cuddle with me.” “Stop saying cuddle

“I never asked them to. I never talked to any of them long enough to ask.” “But you talk to me.”

His blue eyes are soft. “Yeah, Mills. I talk to you.” I settle my head back into his chest, once again soothingly tracing the lines on his ribs. “Besides being tempted to murder my catcher,” Kai adds with a yawn, “today was a good day.” “They can all be good days.” His breathing slows and his words are barely a sleepy whisper when he says, “At least for the next six weeks.”

“Miller has a life she’s going back to, a life she’s worked her ass off for. You two are adults. Whatever you do in your free time is between you two, but I’m asking—no, I’m telling you, if there comes a time where you find yourself

wanting to ask her not to go back to that life, that you talk to me first.” What the hell? I would never ask that of her. I know what this summer is to her. She made it clear last night when she gave me a moment to stop our kiss that she’s simply passing through. She’s got her entire life’s dream waiting for her. “It’s not like that.” Monty shrugs. “Keep it in mind. Come to me if that changes for you.”

My heart cracks at that, opening in a way I don’t want it to. He’s too good, too kind. Too goddamn hot with that backwards hat and that tattooed leg exposed. Guy thighs…who would’ve known they were my new kryptonite?

“Why were you so hesitant about meeting my friends?” he asks. “I don’t know.” His eyes flick up to me. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me why.” Okay, him understanding me enough to know when I’m lying is quite annoying. “I don’t really have many friends.” He pins me with a look, silently asking me to elaborate. “I’m on the move so much that my relationships are always temporary. It’s easier to go into each new city with that expectation already in place. It hurts less to leave that way.” “But tonight, those were my friends. Why was that difficult for you?” I shake my head.