37. Because I Have You

THIRTY-SEVEN

BECAUSE I HAVE YOU

Garrett

The following day, I arrive back in Minneapolis and stroll into the clubhouse with thirty minutes to spare. Fortunately for me, Skip will have to use actual balls instead of mine for the first pitch. Dessa followed me in her vehicle, and when we parted ways, I left her with Melanie and Tori until after the game.

After our pre-game warm-up, I'm in the locker room with Smokey, Joe, and the shortstop, Bishop, as we all change into our uniforms. Since last night with Dessa, I've thought a lot about the future and what I want it to look like. Without a doubt, I want Dessa by my side. But will the baseball life be too much for her? Is that something she'll want for the long term? She's gotten a glimpse of it over the last month, but half a year, every year, is a lot to ask of someone. Then what happens when we start a family? Growing up, Dessa's always talked about wanting a big family since she's an only child. She said it got lonely. I want to be the man who gives that to her. My locker door slams with a heavy clank, and I turn to Joe, who's sitting on the bench tying his cleat.

"Is it hard starting a family while playing baseball?"

He peers up at me and freezes. "Starting a family? Where is this coming from? Is there something you're not telling us?"

I rub the back of my neck. "You guys know Dessa?—"

"Shit. Did you put a ring on her finger?" Smokey asks.

"No." I drop my hand. "Not yet anyway, but I know she's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Eventually, that life will include kids."

"I'll be honest," Joe says, "it's not always the easiest since you're gone half the year. Sometimes you'll miss out on birthdays and other holidays."

"Didn't Ramirez miss the birth of his child?" Smokey adds.

"Oh yeah, his wife went into labor a month early. He was halfway across the country and couldn't get there before his daughter was born," Joe says.

Bishop chimes in, "I missed my son's first steps and his first word. Luckily, Sara recorded a video to send to me. While it wasn't the same, it was still exciting to see."

"I know Tori was a little apprehensive when she got pregnant. She wasn't sure how everything was going to go. But a lot of the other wives and girlfriends have been a great support system for her. They welcomed her with open arms. She's told me their support has really eased her fears," Randy says.

I nod. Not only do the players become like family, but so do everyone's partners. It's a baseball family. I know Dessa enjoys hanging out with Tori and Melanie whenever she comes to a game. Maybe my own fears are getting in the way. If others can make it work, I can too. I know Smokey takes over parenting duties for Melanie after a game so she can have a break. It's a true test of compromise. The post-game party scene isn't me anymore, so I don't have to worry about that. The hardest thing might be convincing Dessa to shift her life to follow my dream.

When I step out onto the illuminated field, the brim of my cap shields my eyes as I stare up into the stands and immediately spot Dessa wearing a dark blue number seven jersey. Cora sits on her lap giggling and kicking her feet as Dessa tickles her. The smiles on both their faces make my heart swell. One day, that could be Dessa and our daughter.

The start of the game begins like every other game. While in the dugout, I rub my thumb on one of the pennies Dessa gave me before tucking it into my back pocket.

Joe's at bat first. He drops the ball behind the third baseman, giving him a single. I'm the second batter in the lineup, and when I'm at the plate, Joe steals second base. Like a ninja, the Minnesota pitcher catches him and throws to the second baseman, tagging him out. That was the start of our comedy of errors… for the entire night.

I manage to get on base with a single, but Ramirez hits the ball to the second baseman, forcing me out, who then throws the ball to first for a double play.

When we take the outfield, Minnesota hits a home run on the first pitch. Two more players get on base before Holloway, our pitcher, delivers the last strike.

At the next inning, I'm squatting behind the plate. I signal to Holloway for a slider. As the ball soars toward the plate, the batter swings, nicking the ball with the top of his bat. The ball spins backwards and smacks my catcher's mask, getting lodged between the metal wires. Five minutes later, and with help from the ump, we release the ball. Minnesota scores two more runs, one because of an erratic throw to home plate even Stretch Armstrong couldn't catch.

When I reach the dugout, I peel off my mask and slam it against the bench. "What the fuck, guys? We need to get our shit together."

"Same goes for you, Playboy," Carlson, the right fielder, snarks.

"That's why I said ‘we.'" I yank off my cap and run a hand through my hair. The whole situation with Dessa has my head swimming. I need to talk to her, and the sooner the better. I'm chalking that up to my shitty playing, but I don't know what everyone else's excuse is. Throwing myself onto the bench with a thud, I reach next to me and grab a handful of BBQ sunflower seeds and shove them into my cheek like a chipmunk. I'm desperate for anything to calm my frustration and sometimes my favorite snack, that I can only get in the Midwest, helps me. Mom even sends me the occasional package stuffed full of bags of the sweet and salty snack, so I'm not without while in Seattle.

At the seventh inning, we're down four runs. As in we haven't scored a single run. We can still come back—we just need a few good at bats. I rake my hand through my hair as my leg bounces on the balls of my foot. From next to me on bench in the dugout, Ramirez backhands my bicep to get my attention.

I twist my head toward him. "What the hell, man?"

He points across the field to the jumbo screen. I follow the imaginary line outside the dugout, across the field, and to the enormous screen spotlighting Camila.

"Is that your ex-girlfriend? "

My stomach plummets to the dirt. Fuck. What the hell is she doing here? She's only ever been to one game of mine, even though I invited her to all of them. And I certainly didn't ask her to this one. This is the cherry on top of my shitty evening.

By the ninth inning, we've scored one run but still get decimated six to one. We haven't experienced a loss this devastating in quite some time. It fucking sucks. As much as a debilitating blow the loss is, I tell myself it's part of the game. Overcoming the loss will always be the greatest challenge.

After my shower, I throw on sweatpants and a hoodie. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and make my way to the family room where Dessa's waiting. As I enter the room, people mill around with whispered condolences, and we'll-get-them-next-times.

When Dessa spots me, she excuses herself from the conversation with Melanie and Tori and greets me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Sorry about the loss."

I press a kiss to the top of her head. Having her here with me takes a little bit of the sting away. "Thanks."

"Do you want to stay for a while?"

"Nah. Let's get out of here." I nod toward the exit.

"Okay." Dessa waves goodbye to Melanie and Tori before lacing her fingers with mine.

As we stroll across the stadium, I'm thankful one nightmare is over, and I've escaped the other. It's still a mystery why Camila showed up tonight, but I have Dessa so it's irrelevant.

"Garrett!"

I pinch my eyes shut. My name coming out of her mouth grates on my last nerve. Our breakup, if you can call it that, was amicable. But after being with Dessa, I now know it would have never worked with Camila, and she's not who I want. I increase my stride, but Dessa stops, forcing me to halt in my tracks, and she spins around.

"Oh…" Dessa's voice trails off.

"Garrett! Wait!" Camila's heels clack against the cement floor atrium.

I turn on my heel and face her since running away isn't an option. "What are you doing here, Camila?" I try to keep the bite out of my tone but fail miserably.

Her brows draw together as she purses her bright red, stained lips. "You invited me here. At first, I thought it was weird that you were sending me messages telling me you weren't over me and you wanted to see me again. But it was kind of cute. Like pen pals, sending love messages to each other."

Now it's my turn to be confused. "I never messaged you." I peer down at Dessa as she meets my gaze. "I never messaged her."

Dessa nods in understanding.

"You did," Camila exclaims. "You told me how sorry you were that we broke up and you want to try again. That's why I'm here."

"Look." I rub the back of my neck. "I don't know who you were talking to, but I assure you, it wasn't me. In fact, I'm with someone." I nod at Dessa.

Camila's face falls. "Oh." She holds her hand out to Dessa. "Nice to meet you, I'm Camila."

Dessa clasps her hand. "Hi. Dessa."

After they shake hands, I pull Dessa against my side, making it clear I'm taken.

"What was the phone number that messaged you?" I have a hunch, but I want Camila to confirm my suspicion.

She pulls her phone from her purse and unlocks the screen. "Two-one-eight-five-five-five-two-two-six-one." Turning the phone around, she flashes me the screen. "You told me you changed your number."

Dessa tenses against me and I shake my head. "Fucking Tony," I mutter. "Look, I'm sorry you got dragged into this. Unfortunately, you were a pawn in someone's game of fuck with my life. It's best if you ditch that number."

Camila's shoulders drop and she nods. Her gaze flits to Dessa and back to me. "In that case, it was good to see you. It was nice to meet you, Dessa." She offers her a small wave, and Dessa gives her one in return. She turns and strolls in the opposite direction.

Dessa's eyes widen. "What the hell is Tony doing?"

"I don't know, but he's not getting away with it." Yanking my phone from my pocket, my fingers twitch as I pull up Tony's number. It rings several times before the voicemail picks up. I step away from Dessa, mostly so she's not subject to what I'm about to say. "I don't know what the fuck you're doing, but it's best to cut the shit," I seethe through gritted teeth. "You're dragging innocent people into your bullshit. If you haven't guessed, I'm not dealing with your shit either. Leave us alone."

As I end the call, Dessa's arms wrap around my waist. I shove my phone into my pocket and drape my arm over her shoulder.

"Do you think he'll do anything else?"

I huff out a deep breath. "I don't know, but it would be in his best interest if he didn't."

When we reach the hotel, I hold the key card to the pad until it turns green and push the door, holding it open for Dessa. This whole thing with Tony has rattled my brain, but he's not my focus right now. Dessa's here and she's my number one priority. After we both step through, the door clicks closed behind us. I drop my bag to the floor. "I want to talk?—"

She spins around, a sultry gleam in her eyes, before she stalks toward me. Her palms rest on my chest, pushing me until my back hits the door with a heavy thud.

"What are you doing?" My voice is low.

Her fingers run along the waistband of my sweats. "I won't always be around when you have a bad game or a bad day, but I'm here now, and I want to make you forget about it, so you'll have a clear head for the next one."

Her hooded eyelids lift. Brown eyes meet my green ones. Her hand roams over the front of my sweats until she's cupping my dick. She slides her hand up and down, stroking me over the fabric. I groan and drop my head against the door. She hooks her thumbs under the waistband and lowers herself to her knees, taking my sweats with her. My dick springs free, jutting out between us. I suck in a sharp breath when her hand wraps around me. I love her hands on me. Her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip. I thread my fingers through her hair, pushing it out of the way for a better view. Her full, pink lips wrap around the crown and she sucks. My eyes roll back. The next best thing to having her hands on me is having her lips wrapped around me. Her wet, hot mouth continues to slide over my shaft. She pulls off with a pop and with her free hand, she continues to stroke me while she wraps her lips around my balls and swirls her tongue.

"Fuck Tates. Your mouth feels so fucking good sucking me." She hums around my balls, and I swear I'm about to burst. Another guttural groan escapes my throat when her lips slide down my length. "I want to fuck your pretty pink lips." She moans her approval. I tangle my fingers in her hair and slowly rock my hips. The tip of my dick hits the back of her throat. She gags around me but opens her mouth wider.

I'm seconds away from exploding in her mouth, but I want to be inside her when I come. I release my grip on her hair and pull away.

She whimpers before glancing up at me through her lashes. "What's wrong?"

"I want to be inside you." I bend down, shoving my arms under hers and lifting her to her feet. She shrieks in surprise. I change positions and spin us so her back is against the door. She rolls her lips between her teeth.

"Strip." I leisurely stroke my dick as her fingers reach the hem of her shirt and she tugs it over her head. My gaze drifts to the black lace covering her tits. Her chest heaves as my eyes devour every inch of her. She pops the button on her jeans, shimmies them past her thighs, and kicks them away. Standing before me, she's wearing nothing but black lace.

"Fucking gorgeous." My lips meet hers in a soul-crushing kiss. My mouth moves to her neck, eliciting a sensual moan from her as her fingers intertwine in my hair. I continue moving south, peppering open mouth kisses across her chest until I reach her ample cleavage. With a swift motion, I tug down both cups and eagerly latch onto one nipple, then proceed to do the same with the other. I continue to slide down her body, hooking my fingers in the straps of her panties and taking them with me as I drop to my knees.

"Don't worry, I'm still going to fuck you, but first, I feast." I hike her leg over my shoulder. Her hand threads through my hair. A sharp sting bites my scalp as she positions me exactly where she wants me. Once in position, I lick up her center, and her back arches as she moans.

"So goddamn sweet." I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue, and she squirms. I'll never tire of licking her pussy. Watching her come undone is an addiction, especially when she screams my name. I wrap an arm around her thigh to hold her in place. I spear her entrance with my tongue and continue to fuck her as she whimpers above me.

"Ah! Yes! Oh Garrett." She pants and moans while her nails dig into my scalp.

I continue lapping her pussy harder and faster with every pass. Her body shudders as she cries out her orgasm. Before she can catch her breath, I drop her leg to the floor and stand. With my hands on her hips, I lift and she wraps her legs around my waist. Using the door for leverage, I impale her on my dick.

Her mouth falls open in a silent moan as her nails claw at my shoulders. With an arm around her waist, I rest my other palm on the door and slide in and out of her.

"You feel so fucking good choking my dick."

"Fuck me, Garrett. Fuck me."

I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and pound into her. Our slapping skin mixes with my grunts and her moans. I drive harder and faster into her as her pussy clamps down hard on me, sucking me in. She arches into me as I lick and suck on her heated skin. She clenches down around me as her thighs lock around my waist. Her pussy spasms around my dick as another orgasm rakes her body. My balls tighten, and I can't hold on anymore. Her wet heat feels too damn good. I roar out, slamming my eyes shut as I come inside her. I glance at her face as my thrusts slow to a stop. Her chest heaves as she collects her breath. I brush my fingers over her temple, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm the luckiest man in the entire world. "

She raises an eyebrow. "Because you get sex after a game?"

"Because I have you."

She claps her hands over my cheeks and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "And I have you." Her breath skates across my mouth.

I slide out and set her on her wobbly feet. "I'll clean you up."

I stroll to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. Afterward, we climb into bed. Dessa has gotten used to sleeping naked when she's with me, and I certainly won't complain.

She snuggles into my side, resting her cheek on my chest. "What did you want to talk about earlier?"

"Before I was rudely interrupted?"

"I don't recall you putting up a fight."

I slide my hand over the smooth skin on her back. "Yeah. What I had to say could wait."

Her shoulders shake with laughter. "What did you want to say?"

I blow out a breath and stare at the ceiling. "I know the relationship between us is new, but I've known you for over half my life. You're still the sweetest, kindest, caring, compassionate, and most beautiful woman now as you were back then. When I look five years, ten years, twenty years into my future, you're the one I see myself with." She twists in my arm and rests her palm against my cheek, and I lean into her warmth. "I love you Dessa. I always have, I always will. And I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Her breath hitches as fear and anxiety flit through her eyes. The corner of my mouth turns up into a half smile. "I'm not asking you to be my wife. Not today anyway. But I will."

Her features soften, maybe in relief. "I love you, Garrett. I'm elated that you came back into my life, and we were able to work things out. You and me in a relationship is a lot and fast. As much as I want to be there with you every step of your career, I hate the idea of giving everything up. My life. My friends. My identity. I don't want to only be known as Garrett Dawson's girlfriend."

"I mean, that's a pretty cool title."

She laughs. "It's the best title. But I don't want it to be my only one. So, can we continue as we are for now while we find our footing?"

"Of course." I press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm always here, and always will be."