Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

by Liz Tomforde

I’m not sure I want to play baseball anymore.

The only thing I’m positive of is that I want to be the best possible dad for Max.

A game that I once loved, that I thought of as my entire existence, I now view as time away from my family.

“You’ve got a cute kid.” You’ve got a cute everything, is what I want to say in response.

“I know it’s weird to offer, but I can hold him if you wa⁠—” “No,” I snap. “Geez.” “I mean, no, thank you. He doesn’t do well with women.” “Wonder where he got that from.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I mean, that’s not good. Or maybe it is good? Who am I to say? Goddamn, this elevator is taking forever.” She slaps a palm over her mouth, her eyes darting to Max. “I mean, gosh dang it.” That finally makes me chuckle, a small grin sliding across my lips. She softens a bit. “He does smile.”

“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.”

“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.”

Not only does Kai look like a superhero, I think he might actually be one to his son. You can see it in the way Max looks at his dad. In the way Kai looks at him. I’d bet good money Kai thinks about retirement every single day.

“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.’”

She might not have to worry, but I do. Because with Miller Montgomery, my coach’s daughter, standing in my kitchen looking like that, I’m afraid something very dangerous has already gotten in.

I love the game, I really do, but I love my son a whole lot more and I don’t know how to find that balance.

They also didn’t look like Miller, talk like Miller, or have me wanting to flirt back with them every time they open their damn mouth. Additionally, they didn’t have my throwing hand putting in extra work while in the shower because flashes of her thick thighs and green eyes won’t leave my fucking daydreams.

“I’m from Texas. Austin, to be specific.”

“Miller.” “Hmm?” “You’re sexualizing me in your mind right now, aren’t you?” “Absolutely.”

“I’m holding you responsible for this one, Montgomery. Here I am, spending one night with you and already getting in trouble.”

“Trust me,” she chuckles. “I have plans to get you in a whole lot more trouble than that.” That’s exactly what I’m worried about.

“I don’t miss Texas for a lot of reasons,”

“But these bullshit temperatures are pretty high up there if not the number-one reason.”

“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.”

Miller stands by the door, all warm and glistening from the sun she got, and suddenly an overwhelming urge to kiss her rolls over me. She’s so pretty and so ridiculous sometimes but seeing her with Max today, and knowing she brought him so I could have the two things I love in one place, has me feeling far too attached to the girl that only a couple of weeks ago I wanted gone.

Travis is a good guy, a good teammate, but I don’t need him talking to Max’s nanny that way. I don’t need him looking at her like that either, as if she might be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. She is, but he shouldn’t be noticing.

The only guilt I have is due to my coach’s daughter occupying a bit too much of my brain space lately.

The way she is with Max, the odd juxtaposition of her as a person—polished and put together in the kitchen then reckless and wild outside of it—makes me want to learn everything there is to know about her. It doesn’t hurt that she’s fucking stunning and her blatant statements about the way I look make me feel equally as desired.

“You flirting with me, Montgomery?” “Have been since we met. You gonna start flirting back?”

Kai should know, it doesn’t matter which of his teammates it is, I have no interest in anyone else here. There’s been a single dad on my mind far too much for me to have the brain space for anyone else.

“That’s cute.”

“Don’t call me cute.”

“You should keep talking. You have a sexy voice, even when you’re talking about your childhood trauma.”