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“Alright!” He pulls on his cap, fixing the brim just how he likes it. “Let’s play some ball.”
He leans down, kissing the top of my head, over my hat. “This is the best surprise ever. Thanks, wife.” He gives my ass a smack.
“You’re welcome. Love you.” I purse my lips for a real kiss.
“Love you too.” He gives me a goodbye kiss on the lips as we part ways to get dressed.
Twenty minutes later, the teams are formed, the Double T’s dressed in their red uniforms, the Buddies in black, the letters BB stitched on their hats. We wouldn’t have been able to get Boston to wear any other color.
We have the best-dressed crowd ever, as the fans in the bleachers are still attired in their wedding night finery. A server passes out glasses of champagne, slices of strawberries floating in the bubbles.
The crowd goes wild as Beckett’s bat hits the ball with an enormous crack. The ball goes sailing over the outfield.
Home run.
I jump up and down, clapping and cheering for my husband. He takes his red cap off his head, holding it up in the air. He spins it in circles as he runs the bases.
As soon as his foot hits home plate, his eyes search for me. He runs over and grabs me. Holds me up in the air and does a celebratory spin. Then slides me back down for a big kiss.
He pops me back on the ground. “And that’s how you do it, Mrs. Bachman.”
“Think you might score again later tonight, Mr. Bachman?” I tease.
“I sure hope so.” He gives me a naughty wink. “I was hoping to get a little snuggle from my wifey.”
He gives me one more kiss, before we head back to the dugout for our next player to go up to bat. I sit on his lap, his arms around me, and try not to let my heart burst from my chest.
He makes me that happy.
I really am the luckiest girl in the world.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rhett
Rose toddles over to me, a big smile shining on her chubby cheeks. She’s only ten months old but she’s slowly been taking more steps each time she walks. She’s one of those babies that quickly developed motor skills but she’s holding back on forming words, choosing to make her wishes known with grunts and finger points instead. She’s a determined little person and it’s rare that we aren’t able to figure out what she wants.
She’s dressed like a classic mini-Beauty. A pink floral romper from Clara’s Children’s Boutique, the store next to Daughtry’s, tiny pink Mary Janes made of a soft cloth, little pink flower fasteners decorating their straps.
Her chubby little hands reach for me.
I scoot back a little further away from her, encouraging her to take a few more steps. “Come on, Rose. You can do it.”
Her little brow furrows. She eyes me with frustration, making a cute little growl-like noise.
She’s not happy.
“Rosie. Come on. It’s just a little further now.”
She stops where she stands, refusing to move any closer. She lifts her arms, her signal for me to pick her up. She gives another little grunt.
Do I give in? Or make her work for it? She’s so cute it’s hard to say no to her. But at the rate she’s going, she’ll have someone carrying her around for the rest of her life while she points at things for them to get her.
“Can you please just take one more step,” I say.
She lifts her arms higher, staring at me with determination. “Tett. Tett.”
“Oh my God…” Did I just hear her right? Is she trying to say… Rhett?
