7. Harper

Kyle followed after Piper, bringing with him a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. It was absurd. He was mad at me ? I’d done nothing to him. We were only in this situation because he’d had a tantrum last night and had said some horrible things. From where I stood, there was no reason for me to learn anything about him. I knew enough.

“Harper?” I spun at the sound of my name, though I peered back at my daughter again.

She was standing in the grass just past third base, sneering at the sand in front of her. I knew the sand would be an issue.

Hannah, not knowing anything about Piper, had chirped about how she wanted the kids and the players to race around the bases while she recorded them.

Naturally, Piper had panicked and kicked me in the shin before running away.

Now, Kyle was squatted next to her, chatting. The two of them seemed good enough. Normally, I’d be mortified if she lashed out at anyone but me, but honestly, if she kicked Kyle, he deserved it.

In the outfield, Sam was in heaven. He and Grey were laughing as they picked grass and threw it at each other. My heart panged as I watched. Sam really needed more opportunity to be a carefree kid like that.

Knowing both kids were okay, I gave the blond woman in the blue shirt my attention.

“Yes?”

“I’m Rory. I’m a trainer. I work with the Bolts, but my boyfriend…” She surveyed the field, and when she stopped on the big guy lying on top of his friend, she huffed. “My boyfriend is Mason Dumpty, the center fielder. He’s the one who is currently trying to…lick his teammate.” She shook her head. “God, men never grow up, do they?”

I tried to fight it, but a chuckle rumbled out of me. “From my experience, no, they don’t.”

“Right?” She smirked. “Anyway, I heard you that have an injury.” With her lips pressed together, she eyed my left hand. “I’d be happy to take a look.”

Annoyance skittered through me. I did not want a favor. Plus, I didn’t need the bill or the limitations a brace or a cast would create. It was sore. That was it. I didn’t have time for more than that.

I waved her off with my good hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Can I look?”

Pulling my shoulders back, I racked my brain for a legitimate reason to say no.

“Please,” she urged. “Just a look.”

Begrudgingly, I held my hand out to her.

She was quiet as she inspected my palm and pressed on the area around the bruise. With a hum, she pressed against another spot, then asked me to move my fingers. Next, she had me make a fist. “Are you taking anything?”

Lowering my focus to my hand, I shook my head.

“How about this: take two Advil every six hours, ice it regularly, and rest it.” She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a white business card. “If it’s not any better in a couple of days, call me.”

Nodding, I tucked the card with the Boston Bolts logo into the side pocket of my leggings. I had no intention of making that call, but I’d entertain her for now.

When Rory released my hand, I checked on Piper again. Kyle had a hand cupped in front of him like he was holding something for Piper to inspect. My little girl held out a single finger, and with a grimace, she poked his palm. Quickly, she yanked her hand back and shuddered.

Rory cleared her throat, garnering my attention again. “Most people don’t know this because Kyle is really private about it. But he and Mason run a foundation for kids diagnosed with autism. They award grants that help families pay for therapies they couldn’t otherwise afford. They donate a lot of merch and tickets too, for fundraising.”

My breath caught in my lungs as I looked from her to Kyle and back again.

“Like I said, he’s really private about it.” She watched the man in question, a small smile lifting one side of her mouth.

A woman with a camera stood a few feet away from him and Piper, snapping candid shots.

“He finished his master’s degree in clinical psychology after he was drafted. He’s super smart. Rumor is that when he retires, he’s planning to practice ABA therapy.”

That rocked me. No wonder Kyle had told me to ask about his background.

“Oh.” I swallowed. Piper’s school had recommended applied behavior analysis therapy. Though she received some during the day, she needed more.

The problem was that private therapy was expensive. We already did occupational therapy with a sensory focus and swim therapy. Those barely fit into my budget as it was. I’d applied for a few grants, but I hadn’t heard back. Following up would be helpful, but between work, Piper’s needs, and life in general, I didn’t have the bandwidth.

Even so, therapy was important. And I had to make time for Sam. He deserved to have a life outside our little family unit. I had to start making these things happen.

“Yeah. Kyle…” She blew out a breath. “He comes across as an…” She cringed as she looked from him to me, but then she laughed. “An ass. There’s no better way to say it.”

I smirked. I couldn’t disagree.

“But Mason and I got together while I worked for the Revs. Our relationship could have gotten me into a lot of trouble. Kyle found out, but he kept our secret like it was his own. And he’s been a great friend to Mason. He’s ridiculously competitive and has a temper, but he’s got a lot of good qualities too. So don’t write him off yet.”

I didn’t know what she wanted me to say. But before I could respond, a white and black flash in my periphery caught my attention.

“Oh shit.” Rory screeched and jumped back, wide-eyed.

The world slowed around me as a flapping sound echoed in my ears. Rory took a step back, then another, her face a mask of terror.

The flapping got louder, and that’s when it finally hit me.

Oh no. My stomach dropped.

The bird.

I spun toward the sound, but my movements were halted when I was thumped on the head. At the pressure that remained, my heart skipped, and a shiver raced down my spine. Frozen, I panicked, my heart taking off.

“Is there a bird on my head?”

She gave me a wide-eyed nod as she slowly backed down the dugout steps.

Internally, I was freaking out. Screaming and jumping around, smacking myself on the head, trying not to pee my pants as I darted away from the creature. Outwardly, though, I was frozen. I wanted to push the bird off, but my hand refused to move.

What if it bit me?

Did birds bite?

This one had a beak that looked like a huge orange lobster claw. I had no doubt it could take off my finger in a single chomp. And I needed my fingers.

My heart was pounding, and my lungs burned from a lack of oxygen. I was too afraid to inhale. But at the sharp poking sensation on my scalp, I sucked in a hard, whimpering breath. I had to be calm about this. If I freaked out, I’d scare Sam and Piper, who were probably watching me.

“You okay?” Kyle stepped in front of me.

When he’d crowded my space the first time, I wanted to push him away. But right now, I really wanted his help. Damn it. The last thing I wanted to do was ask him. I just needed to remain calm. Maybe the bird would fly away.

The weight on my head shifted, and an object floated in front of my face before coming to rest on my nose.

“There’s a feather on my nose,” I whispered, my voice tinny. “Because there’s a bird on my head.”

He chuckled as he gave me a once-over. “Uh-huh.”

In that moment, terror won over pride and self-respect.

“Get. It. Off,” I begged.

“The feather or the bird?”

“The bird,” I hissed.

Smirking, he rubbed his hands together. “Afraid of our little Puff, huh, Crabby?”

The bird shifted on my head again, and a soft squeak slipped from between my lips.

Kyle chuckled again, and my blood pressure spiked. This was not funny.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes for a moment. “My kids are watching, and I do not want to scare them by exposing them to my irrational fear of birds. So stop being a total asshole for one second and get it off.”

Kyle’s grin stayed firmly in place as he lifted his arm and tapped his wrist twice.

Instantly, the pressure disappeared, and in a flash of white and black, the bird was in front of me, happily resting on Kyle’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry about that. We train them to fly to red.” A blond with a sweet, high-pitched voice stepped up next to Kyle and held her arm out until the bird transferred to her hold. “I think the way the sun reflected off your hair got his attention.”

“Pet it,” Kyle demanded, his focus locked on me.

I took a step back. That was the last thing I wanted to do. “Wh?—”

“Pet the bird now.”

Behind me, Sam called my name. Not wanting him to sense my fear, I brushed my fingers along the bird’s soft feathers. It took everything in me not to flinch as I did it. When the bird moved, I froze, holding my breath, my hand still raised.

Kyle eased my arm down as Sam came up next to us.

“Mom,” he said. “You holded Puff. How cool.”

I wanted to agree, but my throat had closed up. With a deep breath in through my nose, I swallowed and cleared my throat.

“So cool,” Kyle said. “But she needs to wash her hands now.” He gave Sam a soft smile, then stepped closer to me and murmured, “Go into the dugout. There’s a bathroom down the hall. Take a minute to chill out. We’re good here.” Then he turned to Sam. “Want Avery to make him dance again? Let’s move closer to the bucket of fish. She can show you some husbandry behaviors.”

“What’s that?” Sam scratched his head, his face tipped up as he looked from Kyle to the bird.

“That’s what it’s called when Puff mimics what we do.” Kyle gently grasped my upper arm and spun me around. “Go wash your hands.”

Robotically, I walked down the steps. When I made it to the hall and out of sight of my kids, I collapsed against the wall and let out a big breath. Thank God I hadn’t freaked Sam out. I guessed I had Kyle to thank for that, regardless of how much it irked me.

I peeked back out at the field and found him bent over in the grass between my kids shaking his head back and forth. Beside him, Sam’s shoulders shook with laughter. Even Piper was smiling.

I didn’t know what to make of him.

“I’m so sorry I left you like that.”

Startled, I turned and found a sheepish-looking Rory.

“I swear I’m the only person in the world who’s scared of Puff.”

“Not the only one,” I promised wryly.

With a tilt of her head, she covered her mouth. “Oh my God. Now I feel even worse. You’re afraid of him too?”

Between us, I held my forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “Little bit.”

“I probably would have cried if he’d landed on me like that.”

“I considered it. Along with jumping around and screaming.”

She giggled. “Mason kissed me for the first time because of a bird.” She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. “It’s the only time I’ve ever been grateful for a feathered beast.”

Allowing my shoulders to relax, I tipped my head, gesturing to my kids. “I’m going to go.”

“I’m headed over to the Bolts Arena,” she said. “But call me if you have any trouble with the hand.”

I nodded, though I wouldn’t call. Then I trotted up the stairs.

The group had congregated in the grass, and as I approached, Hannah was holding court. “How about a relay race around the bases? Each kid could be paired up with a baseball player. The kids could run from home to second, then they’d tag their Revs partner, and the guys would finish.”

My stomach sank, and I searched for Piper in the group. Surprisingly, she wasn’t blinking or fidgeting or showing any other sign of stress.

“Piper and I were talking about it,” Kyle said, and Piper beamed up at him. “We thought maybe the kids could ride on our shoulders while we raced around the bases.”

“Oh.” Hannah paused for a moment, pursing her lips. Then she broke out in a smile. “That will be perfect. Let’s set up the teams.”

“I call Dad,” Grey shouted, darting to Asher Price.

Sam ended up on Emerson Knight’s shoulders while Kyle carried Piper and Mason carried Clara.

Sam and Emerson won the first race, no contest. They made it to home plate before anyone else could even round third.

I worried Piper would be upset, but before she could make a comment, Kyle demanded a do-over.

“He totally started early,” he complained.

Mason tipped his head back, being careful to keep Clara on his shoulders. “Oh, here we go.”

With a roll of his eyes, Emerson laughed.

But without argument, they all lined back up.

By the fourth race, it was clear that Emerson really was the fastest. Asher and Mason gave up then, but Kyle was still pumped to run again. Finally, during the seventh race, Kyle and Piper won. The smile on my daughter’s face after they crossed over home plate was bigger than any I’d ever seen from her.

I couldn’t help but feel grateful for Kyle. Even when he declared that he’d drop us off on his way home and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It didn’t take long to get our things loaded and to get the kids buckled, since Kyle insisted on keeping Piper on his shoulders and Emerson had carried Sam out. Having extra sets of hands like this was unusual and unfamiliar, but not something I’d complain about.

Kyle watched as I pulled out the kids’ tablets and headphones. We had a twenty-five-minute drive ahead of us, and when my kids were stuck next to each other in the car like this, they could very quickly make a person want to stab their eardrums out.

Kyle eyed the kids, who were already homed in on their iPads in the third row of the Escalade. “So here’s the thing?—”

“If you’re going to tell me screen time rots their brains, you can save your breath. I don’t want to discuss it,” I warned.

Frowning, he studied me. “I wasn’t talking about screen time. They’re your kids. You make those calls.”

My chest tightened at the sentiment. Did he mean it, or was he pretending he agreed while silently judging my parenting?

“Plus, they’ve been running around for hours. They probably need some down time. Balance isn’t a bad thing.”

Oh. My cheeks heated. Dammit. Flicking at a piece of lint on my leggings, I focused on working up the nerve to apologize.

“Anyway,” he said before I could formulate an appropriate statement. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re having a day care crisis.”

With a sharp intake of breath, I scrutinized him. How did he know that? I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone on the team. “What?”

“Am I wrong?” He raised a brow, looking nothing like the guy who’d been laughing and running the bases with my kids. He’d quickly morphed into the cocky pain in the ass who spent a lot of time BSing with the reporters.

“No, but…” I regarded my kids. Neither was paying any attention. I’d been telling Piper since before the game yesterday that she wasn’t going to the YMCA after school anymore. But I couldn’t believe she’d opened up to Kyle about it.

“So like I was saying. You need a new day care. And I assume you need it by Monday.”

I laughed. “Unless I’m somehow blessed with a fairy godmother in the next thirty-six hours, that isn’t happening.”

He rolled his eyes. “Langfield Corp has a day care. It’s available to their employees and players. They can take Piper and Sam until you find a permanent spot for them.”

“No, they can’t.” I shook my head.

He crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat. The move made the muscles of his forearms ripple against the sleeves of his fitted blue athletic shirt. He eyed the driver, a man wearing a black Langfield Corp polo, before shifting his attention back to me. “What do you mean?”

“There is no reason for that.” Taking a few pictures together so that the whole city of Boston would no longer hate me was one thing. Even having a day of fun for the kids. But I wasn’t taking anything else from him. “I don’t work for the Revs or Langfield Corp, so there is no reason for my kids?—”

“Look.” He threw a hand up and huffed. “I get that I was a dick last night. I don’t lose well.” He shrugged the statement off like he was talking about a six-year-old rather than himself.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a scoff. “That was clear when Emerson had to let you win a fun race around the bases.”

Kyle sputtered. “ Let me?”

“Kyle, he crushed you six races in a row,” I explained, doing my best to keep my tone even despite the ridiculousness of this conversation. How could he not understand this? “And suddenly, on the seventh, you won.” I cocked a brow. “Do you know why? He didn’t want to have to go again, so he threw the race.”

“No way.” Kyle shook his head, his brow creased. “I’ll prove it.” He shifted to yank his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a message. Once he finished, he set it on his knee and glared at me. “I’m trying to apologize here, but you’re being nothing but difficult.”

“Me?” With a thumb, I pointed at my chest. Was he freaking kidding?

“Yes. You , Crabby. All glary and uptight and ‘these are the rules. Oh wait, one more,’” he mocked.

With my lips pressed into a firm line, I clenched my fists on my lap, ignoring the pain. I didn’t want to be this way, but Piper needed the structure. Plus, who was he to judge? “Better to be irresponsible and running my mouth like you?”

“Touché.” He smirked, and his brown eyes danced. Almost like he enjoyed arguing with me. But almost as quickly as it came, the amusement vanished from his face. “So since I was running my mouth, let me fix it. The kids go to the Revs’ day care for the time being. I’ve already cleared it with management. They’ll email the onboarding paperwork tomorrow, so stop making it a thing.”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. That might have been the worst apology I’d ever been given. And that was saying a lot after the half-assed apology I’d gotten from my ex-husband when he’d lied to me for over a year.

“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you .” Smirking, he sat back in his seat, his body relaxed, like he’d proven his point.

“Learn to read a room, dumbass. That’s not even close.” Seriously. And I’d almost apologized to this jerk?

“Listen.” He huffed a deep breath out of his nose and angled over the space between the two bucket seats so he was a little too close. “I’m working on being patient with you. Everything the Langfields have is the best. So, Little Fingers? Best day care in Boston. And I’ve secured spots for your kids. But because of your own stubbornness, you’re refusing?”

“That’s not?—”

“And,” he said, drawing the word out, “finding one that can handle a child with ASD on short notice?” He snorted. “Good fuckin’ luck.”

Sighing, I let my shoulders fall. Damn, it stung to admit he was right.

So I wouldn’t. Not out loud, at least. I wouldn’t let this asshole win. I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes at him. “They can come to work with me for a while.”

With a snort, he dropped his head back against his headrest. “Bet you get a lot done that way.”

I glared, only to find him staring right back, his eyes just as hard. He was waiting for me to cave. Waiting for me to admit he was right.

When I didn’t, the ass sank even lower. “Greyson and Sam got along well today. Grey goes to Little Fingers. I’m sure Sam will be thrilled when I tell him that if you accept my offer, he’ll get to play with his new buddy every day.” He spun in his seat, one hand planted on the back of my seat, like he was going to call out to my son.

Eyes practically bugged out, I smacked his arm. “You wouldn’t.”

He lifted one shoulder, nonchalant. “When I want something, I don’t play fair.”

“And here I was, almost believing you weren’t as terrible as your tantrum last night made you out to be,” I huffed.

He glared. “How am I terrible? I’m helping you.”

“No one asked you to,” I snapped back.

He opened his mouth but slammed it shut again. With a long breath through his nose, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said, “Fill out the onboarding paperwork before Monday.”

“We’ll see.” Crossing my arms, I glared out the damn window, wishing I had a better option for day care. Because I’d rather cut my tongue out than admit that I needed Kyle Bosco’s help. And to think I’d almost let myself forget the cardinal rule.

Don’t ever trust a southern boy.