Caught Up (Windy City Series)

Violet: How’s the break? Are you making progress in the kitchen? How are the recipes coming?

Me: The break has been great.

Violet: And the answers to my other questions?

“A line-dancing bar?” Isaiah complains as soon as we walk through the door. “Cody, what the hell, man?”

Cody’s smile is beaming like a kid on Christmas, taking in the giant open room. The dance floor is fittingly Texas-sized with a live band on the stage in front of it. Everywhere I look I’m bombarded by denim, flannel, and cowboy boots, including the brand-new pair donned on Cody’s feet.

“It’s not a line-dancing bar. It’s just a good ole’ country bar.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, a ridiculously excited smile on his lips as he heads straight for the bar. “Let’s go, boys.”

They follow suit.

Before I can leave the entryway, an oversized hand lands on my hip, fingertips gripping into the denim. Instinctively, I know it’s Kai, mostly due to the possessive grip matching the vibe he’s been putting out since we left the lobby of the hotel.

“Does everyone just do what he says?” I ask as the team swarms the closest bar top.

“He’s the planner. Always has a plan for our time off. He rented a boat when we were in Tampa. Broadway show in New York City. A trip to Niagara Falls when we were in Toronto. And a country bar in Dallas, apparently.”

Turning, I face him. “And where were you for all those outings?”

“At the hotel with Max.”

“But not tonight.”

Behind his glasses, Kai’s steel-blue eyes wander my face before dipping to my lips. “No. Not tonight.”

“Ace!” one of the boys calls out, holding up a shot glass filled to the brim with amber liquid.

“Fuck,” Kai mutters, looking over my shoulder at the bar. “I can’t be doing shots.”

“No. I’m sure at thirty-two there’s no way your geriatric liver could handle it.”

“Are you calling me old, or are you trying to goad me?”

“Both.” I begin walking backward to the bar. “The other night you told me you had a wild streak. I want to see it. C’mon, Baseball Daddy, it’s time to find the other half of that balance I promised you—the fun.”

He leisurely wanders my way, but his long legs move much quicker than mine. With a single finger hooked into the waistband of my jeans, he not only stops me from getting farther away from him, but he pulls me back until my chest slams into his.

Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, tonight is going to be fun.

He wets his bottom lip with a slick slide of his tongue. “What kind of fun are we talking about here?”

Jesus. I’m trying to hold it together, I really am, but all I can think about is climbing his giant body like a tree.

He chuckles at my frozen state, unhooking his finger to turn my hips back to the bar. “Come on, Mills. Show me how the youngins shoot the shots.”

“God, you’re a thirty-two-year-old Boomer, aren’t you?”

“Proudly.”

When we reach the bar and join his teammates, Travis takes the spot next to me, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off Kai’s body as he stands behind me.

Little does he know, Travis already told me back in the hotel lobby that the boys were all planning to rile up Kai tonight by conveniently never allowing him a moment alone with me, and who am I to interrupt team bonding, no matter how weirdly it’s done.

“Kai,” Isaiah calls out, holding up two shots.

He sighs, but he leaves to join his brother.

“Cinnamon whiskey.” Travis slides me one of the glasses.

A shiver rolls through me at the thought. It’s one of those “will not touch” liquors after puking my brains out from it on my twenty-first birthday. But there’s a smile on Kai’s lips, a lightness about him as he laughs with his brother, so fuck it, for tonight, cinnamon whiskey will be my liquor of choice.

It burns going down, and it takes everything in me to keep from gagging, but then I catch Kai staring straight at me as he throws back his own, and I refuse to let him know I’m suffering.

There’s only one instance in which I can see myself gagging in Kai Rhodes’ presence, and it sure as hell isn’t from liquor.

He steps forward, wiping his thumb across the corner of my lips to catch a rogue droplet of liquor. “You okay? You were so confident only a minute ago. You’re not going to gag, are you?”

I pop my shoulders. “Hopefully later.”

He shakes his head—his typical move when I’ve said something that’s caught him off guard. “You flirting with me, Montgomery?”

“Have been since we met. You gonna start flirting back?”

“Miller,” Isaiah interrupts before I can get Kai’s answer. “Can I have this dance please?”

When I agreed to this, I didn’t realize I’d be as annoyed with the lack of solo time. But Kai should know, it doesn’t matter which of his teammates it is, I have no interest in anyone else here. There’s been a single dad on my mind far too much for me to have the brain space for anyone else.

Isaiah’s smile is expectant, so I agree, putting my hand in his to allow him to lead me to the dance floor with a few of his other teammates.

“I have no idea how to dance to country music,” I shout over the live band.

“Me neither. I think we’re all going to look like idiots, but why not, right?”

Smiling, I look up at him only to make the mistake of directing my attention back to the bar.

Kai looks lethal, already with a beer in his hand, and the smile I was wearing falls when I catch his stare. He tracks me, his eyes dropping to where my hand is in his brother’s, before he pulls his beer to his lips.

We join the crowd for the next song.

“Here’s the thing.” Isaiah swings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close, speaking into my ear. “I’m not into you.”

I bark out a laugh.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’d be different if I thought I had a shot in hell, but as it stands, I like my balls right where they are, and Monty scares me enough as it is. My big brother, however . . .”

Both our attention finds him at the bar, jaw ticking.

“Kai is probably the only guy on the team who could spend time with you without Monty losing his shit. And I think he likes you. We all think that, but he doesn’t do a very good job at going after what he wants anymore. He tends to sit back and take care of everyone else, so . . . I just thought . . .”

“You’d force his hand?”

He shrugs. “Us men are simple creatures. Jealousy does wonders. I figured I’d take you for a twirl, let a few of the guys have a song or two and maybe we’d get the less attractive Rhodes brother to be selfish for a moment and stand up for what he wants. And I’m only roping you into this because, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you want him too.”

I don’t correct him. “Travis already told me what you guys had planned.”

“So, are you in?”

As the music begins, I cast one more look in Kai’s direction. I wasn’t lying earlier when I told him he looked hot, and the jealous thing he’s rocking right now only adds to it. Sure, my dad warned me not to give him someone to miss, but Kai knows I’m leaving in less than two months and still, he’s looking at me like that. Maybe what he wants is a little unattached fun with the nanny for the rest of the summer.

“First of all, your brother is hotter than you.”

Isaiah chuckles.

“But, yeah, I’m in.”

With a sneaky smile on his lips, Isaiah spins me out before pulling me back in as the music takes over the crowd on the dance floor.

Six songs later and I’ve concluded that my dad’s players are all surprisingly good on their feet. I’ve had a turn with six of them, Cody being the most fluid, as if the pair of brand-new cowboy boots on his feet suddenly gave him the ability to dance to fast-paced country music.

Every player has made their way out here, either to dance with me or someone else, and then there’s Kai, still at the bar with the perfect sightline to me and his teammates.

“Goddamn,” Travis says next to me, hands on his hips to catch his breath. “I thought he’d be out here by now. I’m a catcher; my knees are shit. I can’t be dancing with you all night.”

“I think maybe you guys read him wrong. He doesn’t seem to give a shit, which defeats the purpose of this prank.”

“Nah.” Travis shoots a glance back to the bar. “He changed when Max came. Now he likes to play the role of a martyr. He’d never let any of us get away with a single dance with you if this were last season.”

The music switches to something slow as couples begin to pair off once again.

“Ah fuck.” Travis slides a hand on my lower back to pull me into him. “I swear to God if Ace hates me after this, I’m punching Isaiah straight in the face for coming up with this idea.”

Over his shoulder, I find Isaiah at a table, wide and excited eyes bouncing from us to the bar. I refuse to look over there. This was fun at first but now it’s sort of awkward to try to goad a guy into making a move when he clearly doesn’t plan to.

As Trav turns us, I immediately catch Kai shift from the bar, standing before heading straight for the dance floor.

With every step he takes, his eyes are locked on mine from across the room, but when he reaches the dance floor, he doesn’t come to interrupt. Instead he heads for his brother, who is sitting at a table on the outskirts, leaning down to speak into his ear.

Isaiah’s eyes widen as he looks at the front door.

“What’s going on?” I ask Travis, nodding behind him to the Rhodes brothers.

He follows my line of sight, then tracks Isaiah’s.

“Oh, shit,” he breathes, ushering me to the table Isaiah has occupied all night. “What are they doing here?”

Kai’s eyes bore into Travis’s hand on the small of my back while he takes a sip of his beer, elbows casually perched on the high-top table in front of him.

I want to smack him. I also really want to kiss his stupid handsome face, but he’s going to have to be the one to do something about it. I’ve spent the past two weeks telling him how attracted I am to him.

“They start their series against Texas tomorrow.” Isaiah turns back to the dance floor. “Cody!”

The first baseman is mid-dance with a cute guy wearing a black cowboy hat, and he shoots daggers towards Isaiah for the interruption.

But then Isaiah motions towards the door again and instantly Cody is at the table with his teammates. “Dean Cartwright is here? They couldn’t have picked a different bar?”

“What’s going on?” I look around all four of them for an answer.

“Daddy over here beat the shit out of that one”—Isaiah points to a group of men with eerily similar builds to the ones I’m with—“last year when we played Atlanta.”

“I didn’t beat the shit out of him.” Kai takes another pull from his bottle, eyes locked on the inches that separate me from his catcher.

“You cleared the benches after delivering a right hook to Dean’s jaw that knocked him on his ass.”

“It was your throwing arm, Ace. Do you know how much money that’s worth?”

Kai pops his shoulders. “He deserved it.”

“What did he do?” Kai’s eyes finally flicker up to meet mine at my question.

He doesn’t answer right away, so Travis cuts in from beside me.

“Cartwright had an illegal slide into home while I was covering the base. Took me out by the knees. It was dirty and it pulled me out for the rest of the game.”

My head whips back to Kai. “You punched him for that?”

“Of course not.” He takes a leisurely sip of his bottle. “I hit him with a pitch the next time he was up at bat. I waited for him to charge me at the pitcher’s mound, then I punched him.”

A laugh bursts out of me because, well, Kai doing anything like that seems entirely out of character.

A ghost of a smile tilts from behind his bottle. “This was before Max.”

Ah. Of course it was. He told me he was a different man then, but I like seeing this bit of fire in him. And the way his jaw flexes when his attention falls to the minimal distance that remains between Travis and me tells me it’s still in there.

The table is small, the bar is crowded. I’m not standing any closer to his catcher than he is to his brother, so even though I like this side to him, he’s being really fucking dramatic.

Travis pops off the table. “I’m grabbing us another round.”

Cody and Isaiah turn their backs to us, facing the dance floor once again to entertain themselves by checking out every woman who walks by, but Cody also does the same to a couple of the cowboys. Kai takes the opportunity to slide around the table to my now unoccupied side.

He leans on his forearms, sipping his beer, and he doesn’t look at me when he tries to casually throw out, “Travis is a good guy.”

Here we go. “Yeah. He is.”

He nods, still refusing to look my way. “Close to your age too.”

“Well, that’s too bad. As I said earlier today, I’m into older guys.”

His eyes flicker up to mine. “He likes you.”

He’s a good actor.

“Does that bother you?”

He exhales a humorless laugh. “Isaiah asked me the same thing.”

“And what did you say?”

Kai straightens to his full height again, deliciously overbearing as he stands over me. “I told him it would only bother me because you’re here for Max.”

“And is that the truth? Because of Max?”

The corner of his lip lifts in a smile he’s trying to suppress. “If I were to tell the truth, I’d say it bothers me enough that I’ve been spending my entire evening watching you and plotting a way to get Monty to trade him.”

I huff a laugh, a smile on my mouth mirroring his. “And you call me ridiculous.”

“I’ve had my moments. I was a different man before Max came along.”

“A man who punches other players mid-game.”

“A man who protects his teammate.”

I raise a questioning brow. “A man who now wants that same teammate traded.”

“Well, we all have our limits now, don’t we?”

“And I’m yours?”

His eyes trail my face, once again landing on my lips. “I think you might be.”

Fucking make a move, Kai.

I know he wants to. I can see it from the frustration that’s grown all night, but it’s as if he’s decided it’d make more sense if I were into Travis or any one of his teammates I’ve danced with, so he’s held back. And I’m worried the boys’ little game of forcing his hand has only revealed that Kai is no longer selfish enough to take what he wants.

That concern is only amplified when Travis returns to the table, the necks of bottles laced between his fingers. As he sets them down, Kai leaves my side, making his way back to the opposite end with his brother.

“So, are we leaving or staying if Cartwright and his teammates are here?” Travis asks.

“Staying.” Isaiah pins him with a look, a slight slur to his speech already. “Fuck that guy. He was a prick when we were kids playing travel ball and he’s an even bigger prick now.”

“Well, if we’re staying, I’m dancing.” Cody holds his hand out for mine.

The boys turn to look at their pitcher, waiting for him to step in, but all he does is trade his finished beer for a fresh one.

As one song ends and the next begins, one of the outfielders spins me into the next teammate’s pair of awaiting arms.

Only this time the person who grabs me isn’t one of the guys from the team. It’s Dean Cartwright—the player from Atlanta.

“What’s your name?” he asks, one hand on my lower back and his mouth far too close to my ear.

I swallow, looking around the dance floor for a familiar face, but I’ve had a fair amount to drink and he’s spinning me a little too fast to catch a good look at anyone. “Miller.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips. “Aren’t you going to ask me mine?”

“I already know yours.”

“Figures.”

His lips spread in a slow smirk that I’d assume most women would classify as sexy. But the overly cocky thing doesn’t do it for me anymore. Now I’ve got a smoking hot but unsure man on my mind, and I can’t think of anything more attractive than the idea of him finding his well-deserved confidence. Especially with me.

I go to pull out of his hold, but his grip only tightens.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I just want a dance. I’ve been watching you all night and wondering what the hell you’re doing here with the Windy City Warriors.”

I stare him straight in the eye. “My dad is the field manager.”

His brows lift. “Monty’s daughter? I had a deal fall through because your dad wouldn’t sign me.”

“Makes sense. He’s always had good taste.”

His laugh is genuine. “Snarky little thing, huh?”

“Can I go now?” I ask, trying once again to unsuccessfully pull myself from his grip without causing a scene.

“One dance, Miller Montgomery.”

It takes me a moment, but I resign. “Fine. But only if you tell me why the entire team hates you so much.”

His smile is devious as we begin to move once again. “I’ve known the Rhodeses since we were kids playing travel ball. May or may not have slept with one or two of Isaiah’s girlfriends in high school.”

“Isaiah doesn’t have girlfriends.”

“He used to. And it was a real easy way to knock him off his game before we played.”

I can’t hold in my disbelieving laugh. “So you’re just a shitty person, huh?”

“I’m a competitor. If something as trivial as that could make my opponent have a bad game, that’s on them.”

“You’re kind of the worst, you know that? I hope the pitch Kai hit you with was a fastball straight to the nuts.”

A smile slides across his lips. “Thanks, doll.”

My head is on a swivel, looking for the team, and I finally find them all gathered at a table, eyes locked on us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”

“You know my schedule already? Sweet of you. My stepsister is staying close by. Thought I might get her out of the hotel tonight. You might know her actually—” Dean’s attention drifts behind my shoulder. “Oh wow.” His hand falls further south, fingertips draped over the top of my ass. “I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace before.”

“I’m playing nice, but don’t you dare let that hand slip any further.”

He simply smiles. “I should’ve said I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace until tonight.”

Huh?

I can feel Kai’s presence long before I see him. When he makes it to us, he pushes Dean’s chest into the crowd, breaking the hold he has on me.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”