Left Field Love
: Chapter 41

“He’s home! He’s home! He’s home!” Tiny feet pound the hardwood floor.

Hazel breezes past me, almost taking off the screen door clear off the hinges before she reaches the front porch.

“No running in the house!” I call after her, rising from my seat at the kitchen table.

Hazel doesn’t reply, not that I expected her to. Not that I actually thought she would listen to me. And if she had answered, it probably would have been to tell me she’s no longer inside, so she can run.

Unfortunately, she inherited my love of logic. And arguing.

I follow her outside, reaching the top of the porch steps just in time to see Hazel leap into Caleb’s arms. He spins her around, the sound of her laughter carrying across the air in the October breeze.

Hazel starts chattering away immediately, filling him in on the drawings she did this morning. The peach pie she helped me make that’s currently in the oven. About how she galloped on Stormy yesterday. By galloped, she means trotted, but Caleb is ignorant enough about horseback riding I’m not surprised when his expression isn’t concerned.

Instead, he looks completely at ease as he watches our daughter fill him in on everything he’s missed in the past two days since they spoke.

Caleb only looks away from Hazel when I step on a squeaky stair. I’m surprised one even exists. Matthews Farm is almost unrecognizable from my adolescent memories. There’s no longer an inch of this property that hasn’t been repaired, painted, or trimmed.

Caleb’s gaze meets mine, and he gives me the secret, special smile that still gives me butterflies.

I descend the rest of the stairs slowly, trying to compensate for how my center of gravity seems to shift daily.

Hazel scrambles out of Caleb’s arms and starts racing toward the house. “I’ll be right back,” she calls over one shoulder. “I’ll be right back, Mom,” she tells me as she passes by.

“Okay.” I laugh. I’m guessing she’s just remembered she left the art project she worked on all morning upstairs in her room. The excitement of Caleb’s arrival was clearly enough to make her forget about it until now.

“Hi,” Caleb greets as I approach, grinning lazily as he looks me up and down.

“Hi,” I reply, taking him in too. The dark hair, the strong arms, the crinkles in the corners of his blue eyes that are the only indication he’s fourteen years older than the first time I saw him.

His smile turns wicked. “You look good, Matthews.”

Matthews hasn’t been my last name for years, but hearing Caleb say it makes me feel seventeen again.

“I look like a whale, Caleb.”

“Just your belly.”

I scoff.

“I’m kidding.” Caleb takes a couple of strides forward, so my bloated stomach is touching his. “Seeing you pregnant with my kid is actually sexy as fuck,” he whispers to me, right before he kisses me.

I melt against him, as much as my belly will allow. He hasn’t been home in three weeks. Not the longest stretch we’ve been apart—not by a lot—but distance never gets any easier. Especially when you’re separated from someone you love as much as I love Caleb Winters.

This reunion is especially sweet. Not only because we’re close to becoming a family of four, but because we’re through the last separation in what has felt like an endless stretch of them.

Caleb was drafted to play in Chicago after we graduated from Clarkson. Not as far as he could have gone, but not an easy commute from Landry.

We split our time between Illinois and Kentucky as best we could. I spent a year working freelance for larger papers in the city, before starting a full-time position at the Landry Gazette. That limited my time in Chicago, especially once I found out I was pregnant with Hazel.

Caleb had already told me he intended for this season to be his last before I found out I was pregnant again. We weren’t trying, but we weren’t being careful either. Neither one of us was surprised.

And I’m glad he didn’t feel pressured to make the decision about retiring. Equally relieved I won’t have to take care of a three-year-old and a newborn on my own. I’m able to do most of my work for the paper from home, and we have a couple of barn staff who help out with the barn work, but it’s still a lot to manage.

But more than simply having someone to share the workload with, I miss Caleb when he’s gone.

“Is the pie done?” he asks as we head for the front porch.

“Yes, but it’s for the party tonight.” I glance at him in time to catch his grimace. “You forgot.”

“More like I temporarily removed the knowledge from my brain.”

“I got him a tie. I didn’t know what else to get. Plus, every time I see him he’s wearing one, so I figured it would get some use.”

“Thanks, Len.”

“You going to make it tonight? You look exhausted.”

“The guys set up a whole goodbye thing. It went late and was a little crazy.”

“A little crazy? So drugs, clubs, strippers?”

Caleb rolls his eyes. “It was not that wild. It was mostly getting wasted at sports bars and rehashing old games.”

“Landry’s going to be a real change of pace, huh?”

I’ve lived here full-time since I had Hazel. This is Caleb’s first time returning with no plans to leave.

“A welcome change of pace.”

“Good.”

Caleb holds the screen door open for me. “How many people did my parents invite?”

“Hazel said five hundred, but I’m hoping she’s wrong.”

“How would Hazel know?”

“Your mom took her for the day on Tuesday. They were party planning the whole time.”

Abigail Winters may be aloof and reserved around many people, but she dotes on Hazel in a way that reminds me of Gramps. Ever since she was born, Abigail and Austin have spent at least half the year in Landry, most of it with Hazel. They’ll never be the sort of in-laws that feel like a second set of parents, but my relationship with them is far closer than I ever imagined it being. They’re thrilled we’re expecting again.

Caleb follows me inside the front hall just as Hazel comes flying back down the stairs, clutching a piece of paper in her tiny fist.

“Here! Here!” she shouts, shoving it at Caleb.

He drops his bag by the door and takes it from her, crouching down to inspect it more closely.

“Is this me?” Caleb points to a stick figure standing next to a white and red ball that’s about the same height.

Hazel nods emphatically. “With a bawseball.”

“Baseball,” I correct.

“And this is Mommy?” Caleb asks.

“Yeah and me and Stormy too.”

I peer over Caleb’s shoulder at a stick figure that is apparently me next to a shorter one with brown hair and blue eyes that must be Hazel. Stormy takes up the most real estate on the page, as a brown blob in the background.

“It’s beautiful, Haze,” Caleb tells her.

She nods. “You’re welcome.” I hide a smile. “I’m going to get ready for Grandpa’s party,” she announces, bounding back up the stairs. I’m exhausted just watching her.

“How many people did Grandma invite?” Caleb calls after her.

“Five hundred,” Hazel calls back as she heads up the stairs.

“Unbelievable,” Caleb mutters. “Does she even know that many people?”

“You know she does. People are probably flying in from your dad’s office in New York.”

Caleb rubs his forehead. “Okay. I’m going to unpack. Maybe nap.”

“Okay.” I head for the kitchen. “I’m almost finished with my article for this week. We have to leave for your parents’ by six.”

Caleb sighs, then nods.

Caleb

The drive to my parents’ takes ten minutes, instead of the usual five. Both sides of the driveway are lined with cars, beginning right after I turn through the gate.

“Maybe she said five thousand, and Hazel heard five hundred,” Lennon comments, from her spot in the passenger seat.

“Haha.” I can feel a headache forming at the thought. I didn’t drink much last night, but I didn’t get much sleep. In addition to celebrating the end of my career, the guys were drowning their sorrows about not making playoffs. I was relieved we didn’t, which is one reason I know I made the right choice retiring when I did.

Now that I’m back in Landry, all I want is to be alone with Lennon. Preferably in a bed, naked.

Instead, we’re heading to a fancy party that will undoubtedly include a lot of people I have no interest in talking to but will have to make nice with anyway.

Hazel starts kicking the back of my seat half-way up the driveway.

“Hazel. No kicking.”

She keeps kicking.

“Listen to your dad, Hazel,” Lennon says.

She keeps kicking. “Party!”

“If you don’t listen, you won’t get dessert tonight. There’s peach pie and Grandpa’s birthday cake, so you’ll really be missing out.”

She keeps kicking.

Lennon sighs, quietly. “She’s stubborn,” she mutters to me, under her breath.

“Wonder where she gets that from.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I raise my voice. “Hazel. Stop kicking, or no riding for a week.”

Finally, the pounding against the back of my seat stops. I glance over at Lennon. “She got that from you too.”

“When our son is breaking every window on the property with a baseball, I’ll remember that.”

My head snaps toward her. “Are you talking hypothetically?”

Slowly, Lennon shakes her head. “I saw it on one of the tests they ran at my appointment last week, by accident. The tech felt so badly, and I hadn’t decided if I was going to tell you. I know we agreed we weren’t going to replace out again.”

“It’s a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” I whisper. I’ve had to travel regularly for most of Lennon’s pregnancy. Aside from seeing the bump, this is the first moment where it’s really hit me we’ll have another child in a few months.

Now, more than ever, I wish we were at home and alone. But I can’t miss my father’s fiftieth birthday. We’re nowhere close to the relationship I plan to have with my son, but we’re on much better terms than we were for most of my life.

I drive all the way up to the house, managing to squeeze in between two cars right in front of the center walkway. All the trees and bushes have been wrapped with twinkling white lights, illuminating the whole yard.

Lennon climbs out of the passenger seat with her pie, while I unbuckle Hazel from the back. We head around the side of the house, toward the back patio where the party is being held. It’s a balmy fall evening, ideal for an outdoor gathering. Knowing my mother, she had a tent on standby in case it rained and heaters lined up in case it was cold.

“Grandma!” Hazel begins struggling in my arms as soon as she spots my mom. I set her down, a smile automatically forming as I watch Hazel run over to her.

My mother stops talking mid-conversation, leaning down to listen to my daughter. The hem of her dress drags on the dirty patio, and for once she doesn’t seem to care.

Hazel is still talking exuberantly when Lennon and I reach them. The women my mother was talking to excuse themselves, leaving us to a family moment.

“Caleb!”

“Hey, Mom.” I lean in to give her a hug.

“It’s so nice to have you home.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to be home.”

My mom smiles, then looks to Lennon. “You didn’t have to bring anything, Lennon.”

“I know,” she says, before handing the pie over. “I just had the ripe peaches and wanted to contribute something. You don’t have to use it tonight, I’m sure you planned for plenty of food. It’ll freeze well.”

“Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. I’m going to put this in the kitchen. Caleb, you should say hello to your father. He’s standing over by the grill.”

I tug at my tie and nod. Thankfully, Hazel erases some of the awkwardness that sometimes lingers between us.

“I see Grandpa!” she announces, then makes a beeline for my father. Just like my mother said, he’s standing next to the grill, talking with a group of business colleagues. By the time I get to the grill she’s in my father’s arms, telling him all about the pie Lennon made and the tie that’s his birthday gift.

“How old are you?” she’s asking my dad.

“Fifty,” he tells her.

“Wow. That sounds old.”

All the men around my father laugh uproariously.

I step forward. “Happy birthday, Dad.”

“Caleb!”

He holds a hand out to shake, since he has his arms full of Hazel. She leans into me once I’m in reach, wrapping her small arms around my neck and clinging to my chest. “I’m hungry,” she says.

“I’ll take you to get some food. Give dad a minute to talk,” Lennon says. “Happy birthday, Austin.”

“Thank you, Lennon,” my dad says, before she and Hazel disappear into the crowd.

“How’s the arm?” he asks me.

I rotate my shoulder. “Still solid.”

“Smart, leaving while you’re still on top.”

“Thanks.”

“I know you have plenty of money. And you should enjoy your family, especially with the new baby on the way. But we’d love to have you at the company, now that you’re out of the majors.”

I nod, already expecting the offer. “I’ll think about it, Dad.”

He nods back. “Good.” Then turns back toward the group of men. “You all know my son, Caleb?”

After visiting with my father’s friends, I end up in a long conversation with the St. Jameses. I haven’t kept in contact with Sophie since graduation, but they tell me she’s doing well, living in Los Angeles and working for an advertising firm. Colt, Jake, and Luke are all here, but we talk regularly enough there’s not that much to catch up on. We make a plan to get together for beers tomorrow night, at Matthews Farm.

Finally, I replace Lennon talking to her boss’s wife, Mrs. Stradwell. Although Tom might technically still own the Gazette, Lennon is the one running day-to-day operations now.

“Hi, Mrs. Stradwell. How are you?”

“I’m good, Caleb, thanks. Congratulations on your retirement.”

“Thank you,” I answer, hiding a smile. It feels weird to hear that from people, when I’m not even thirty. “Do you mind if I steal my wife away for a minute?”

“Of course not. I’m going to grab some food.”

I reach down and grab Lennon’s hand, then tow her along the edge of the patio, toward the stairs. She glances around. “Hazel…”

“I just checked on her. She’s with my mom, eating cake.”

Lennon grimaces. “She already had one piece. She’ll be bouncing off the walls when we get home.”

“I’ll hook her up to the hot walker.”

Lennon rolls her eyes, but she also lets me pull her off the side of the patio and in the direction of the stables.

“Where are we going?” She has to half-jog to catch up with me, so I immediately slow my steps. “I was just about to get some water.”

“Shit. Sorry. Let’s go back and get you some.” I was so focused on getting her away from the crowd, I didn’t stop to think.

Lennon grabs my tie before I can take a step. “I didn’t say I wanted to go back.” Her lips curve upward as she takes a step closer and wraps my tie around her hand, pulling me closer.

Fuck it.

I kiss her, hard. She’s expecting it. Immediately, my tie loosens and her hands are in my hair, pulling my head down closer to her level as she rises up on her tiptoes. Her teeth sink into my bottom lip for a second before her tongue slips inside my mouth, deepening the contact.

I haul her against me, letting her feel the effect she has on my body. Her baby bump is a noticeable curve between us, and it drives my desire higher. Some primal, animalistic part of me loves knowing that’s my kid in there, that she and I are so inextricably linked.

We don’t break apart until I distantly register the sound of voices. Someone else seems to be heading this way. I let go of all of Lennon except her hand and tug her toward the left, only stopping when we reach the side door that leads into the kitchen.

I key in the code and then pull her inside. Despite the shiny appliances, it’s obvious we’re in a barn. The stamping and snorting is an obvious giveaway.

So is the scent of hay and leather in the air. Knowing Lennon, I’m half-expecting her to keep walking into the aisle to see the new foals born this summer.

She climbs up onto the counter instead. “If you can’t wait until we can do this in a bed, I’m at least sitting,” she tells me.

I swallow a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought you’d want to check on the horses.”

As soon as I step between Lennon’s legs her hands are on my belt, deftly unbuckling before unzipping my slacks. I hiss as she fists my erection, a sudden rush of desire jolting my system like an electric shock.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

I step closer and tilt my face down, capturing her lips with a long, heady kiss. My hands slide up her bare thighs and under her dress.

Her lacy underwear is soaked. I’m so hard it’s painful and if our absence wasn’t already noticed, it will be soon.

So I simply tug the lace to the side, not bothering to pull her underwear off or to take my own pants off. I thrust into her, muttering curses as wet heat clenches around me.

Finding someone you share an intense emotional connection and a consuming physical attraction with isn’t a common occurrence.

I know what Lennon and I share is rare. I knew it in high school and college, and I’m even more certain of it now.

She’ll always be it for me.

Clothing constricts my movements some, but my shallow strokes don’t really matter. I’m already close to coming and I can feel Lennon’s inner muscles fluttering around me, suggesting she’s close too.

This wasn’t about wild, crazy sex. I just needed a hit of her, because no matter how much I touch Lennon, it’s never enough. And if she wants a bed, I’ll fuck her all night when we get home.

“Harder,” she begs, digging her nails into the back of my neck and rocking her hips against mine.

I quicken my thrusts, then slip my hand between our bodies and rub right above where I’m filling her.

Lennon comes with a cry that sets off my release, spilling into her as bliss spreads through my body. The sweetest sound in the world is her calling out my name.

We’re both breathing heavily, when we separate, laughing like teenagers as we fix our clothing.

But we’re not. We’re adults. Parents.

And all the things that seemed like big challenges when we were younger are obstacles we’ve overcome.

I help Lennon off the counter. She clings to me, as we walk through the dark kitchen back toward the door. The only source of light is from the moon, spilling in through the windows.

She keeps holding my hand once we’re outside. We walk back toward the house with our fingers linked, swinging them between us.

I glance over, studying her profile in the moonlight. Wondering how I got so lucky as to end up here, with her. Exactly where I want to be.

“Hey, Lennon?”

“Yeah?” She glances over, blushing a little when she realizes I’m already looking at her.

“We made it.”

Lennon inhales, like she’s pulling my words in with the oxygen. “We made it,” she repeats.

We share a smile as we keep walking.

This isn’t the way I thought my life would turn out.

I didn’t think I’d be living in this town or walking next to this girl.

Sometimes the best things in life—the best thing, love—can come out of left field.