Play Along (Windy City, #4)

by Liz Tomforde

Those two little words stop me in my tracks. My name. She sounds good saying my name.

“So, who is she?” On this day, where everything feels like a sign, I don’t hesitate when I say, “My future wife.”

There’s been only one woman who has held my interest and now that she’s no longer wearing another man’s engagement ring, spending my time with anyone else holds zero appeal.

“Have I told you lately how much I dislike you?” “Mmm,” he hums. “I should warn you, Ken, I like it when you’re mean. It does something to me.” “So that’s why you haven’t left me alone all these years? I should’ve been nice to you all this time, I guess.” “I probably would’ve proposed a handful of times by now if you were. Nice. Mean. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

“California, huh? Did you know that’s my least favorite place?” “And when did you decide that?” “About two minutes ago.”

“I finally married the girl I’ve been obsessed with for years.” Obsessed is a weird word too. I’m obsessed with how soft this pillow is. My new shoes are so cute. Isaiah is so cute too. I’ll never tell him that.

“Does this mean the honeymoon phase is over already?” “I hate you!” “See you at home, wifey!”

“Just think of this as one big game.” His tone is low and deep when he leans down to my ear and whispers, “C’mon wife. Play along.”

“Eyes are up here, wifey.” “I’m a doctor, Rhodes. Aced anatomy, in fact. I know where your eyes are located. I just don’t care right now.”

Our wedding song is on full blast as Isaiah makes his way to the plate, but before he gets there, he turns back in my direction. With the entire stadium singing the song I walked down the aisle to, Isaiah extends his bat, points at me, and winks. He fucking winks. It’s the moment reality hits me… Miller was right. I think I might have a crush on my husband.