In baseball, I was another player. Number eight. A payroll check, a device to sell tickets until I couldn’t play anymore. To her, I’m everything and can be that for the rest of my life. We can build our own empire together, our own team to take over the world.
“I called Gretchen this morning,” she says. “I gave my two week’s notice, but she let me leave immediately. I’m going without my vacation pay and all that, but I don’t care.” She sighs happily and then giggles. “I am,” she responds to whatever the person on the line said. “I am so happy. I don’t know what will happen, Macie, but I’m where I should be.”
I can’t take it anymore. I’m to her, my arms wrapped around her waist in two seconds. She nuzzles her head against me and I kiss the top of her head.
“No, the program will still go on thanks to an anonymous donor by the name of Lincoln Landry,” she laughs, elbowing me.
“I didn’t say it was me,” I whisper.
She rolls her eyes. “Macie, I need to go. I’m burning the eggs.”
I leave her to say goodbye and pour my own cup of coffee. Once she’s finished, she looks at me. “Gretchen is still talking about that donation.”
“Did you tell her it was me?”
Dani’s eyes light up at my admission, but I don’t care. She knows I did it. Or had Graham do it for me. Either way, same difference.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she says. “That program is so important to those kids.”
“What if Rockster gets sick again?” I ask. “I have to take care of my man.”
Danielle laughs and plates our breakfast. We sit at the table, her feet in my lap. “Do we even know what we’re doing?” she asks. “I feel like this all happened so fast.”
Taking a bite of the eggs, I shrug. “It did happen fast. At least this last part of it. And you know what?”
“What’s that?”
“I woke up this morning happier than I did when I was drafted. I feel like the bat is in my hands now—not the Arrows’ or my father’s or in limbo. I have it. And it feels good to swing.”
Her soft smile hits me squarely in the chest. Looking at her without the hesitation she used to have, without the fear, is everything to me. I wouldn’t trade it for the world . . . or fifteen million dollars.
“Is it odd I don’t feel nervous at all that I don’t have a job or a plan?”
Laughing, I squeeze her feet on my lap. “No. I’ll take care of you. Graham’s made me a lot of money.”
She giggles and sits upright. “I have my own money, thank you. But that’s not what I meant. I mean, what are we doing?” she shrugs. “Are we staying here? Going somewhere else? We’re like gypsies right now.”
“I was thinking we could start someplace new. Together,” I tell her. “It doesn’t matter where to me. I’ll coach at a college or do some personal baseball training. And hopefully, start practicing for those ten kids you want.”
Her eyes go wide. “One step at a time, Landry.”
I hold up my hands and laugh. “Okay, okay.”
She sets her fork on the plate and looks at me soberly. “What would you think about going to Savannah?”
I force a swallow and sit my fork down too. “Really? You’d want to go there?”
She nods. “I love it there. It’s beautiful and your family is there and I . . . I think it would be nice.”
“I would love that. Absolutely love that,” I tell her.
Smiling, she goes back to her coffee. “I would really like to go soon,” she says, her lips still a little swollen from our kisses this morning.
“I can call and let everyone know we’ll be at the Farm in the morning.”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
Six weeks later
Danielle
“SHIT!” GRAHAM DASHES AROUND THE corner and only throws me more off balance. I grab the top of the ladder as it sways to the side and brace for impact. I’m saved as he levels it back out right before it hits the point of no return. “Get down,” he orders in a way only Graham can.
“I’m just seeing if this picture will look good here.”
“Where the hell is Linc?”
“Right here,” he bellows, coming down the hallway. I look over my shoulder as I climb down and he takes my breath away. Bare-chested and in a pair of low hanging jeans with rips in both knees. He’s spattered with white paint and is holding a screwdriver in one hand and a bottle of squirt cheese in the other. “What are you doing?” he asks, taking in the situation. “You didn’t climb that ladder, did you?”
“Will you two stop it?” I laugh. “I’m just seeing if this is the right place for this.”
“Didn’t I tell you to wait on me?”
“I’m excited, all right?”
“I am too. I’ve never hung my own fucking pictures in my house before, but that doesn’t mean you can be stupid.” He gives me a warning glance. The same one I see Graham giving me from the side.
I throw my hands in the air, sitting the picture on the floor, and head to my drink in my pink mug sitting by the stairs. Sitting on the bottom step, I watch the two brothers talk.
We’ve been in Savannah for two weeks. Our little house is bright and airy and overlooks a big field that quiets my soul. It’s so different from anywhere I’ve ever lived. It’s perfect. It feels like home. It’s loud and messy and the Landry’s are in and out. It’s amazing.
“Mallory starts tomorrow?” Lincoln asks Graham.
“Yeah.” He sticks one hand in a pocket of his jeans and looks at me. “I don’t know why you just won’t work for me. You’re unemployed and all.”
“She’s not working for you,” Lincoln barks, making Graham and I laugh.
“Who’s Mallory?” I ask.
“A girl Sienna went to school with. The fact I’m trusting Sienna’s judgement is not lost on me, but I really am at my wit’s end. I’ve gone through three temps. One couldn’t handle the workload, so they sent another to help, and she was worse than the first. The second came in, gave me a lecture that I need to switch to decaf at noon, and I sent her home.” He rubs his hands down his face. “The applications are horrible. Awful. Is there anyone out there that has a brain?”
I shrug. “Maybe this will work.”
He shrugs too. “I need it to. I’m getting behind, working twenty-hour days. I need help.”
“Want me to come in?” Lincoln asks with a wink.
“I don’t need to fix any more of your fuck-ups.”
Standing, I take a spot next to Lincoln. Resting my head on his shoulder, I smile at Graham. “Thank you for helping us get relocated.”
“It was just a few calls. And I didn’t even call about the coaching job. When the college heard Lincoln was retiring, they called me. It really happened on its own. No big deal.”
“It is to me,” I say. “Your family has been incredible about this whole thing—Lincoln’s retirement, our moving here, starting the children’s charity. I still can’t believe it.”
“It’s the way it’s supposed to be,” Lincoln says. “When things go the way they’re meant to, they just line up. This is where we’re meant to be. It’s obvious.”
Graham watches us both and tries to hide a laugh. I still haven’t figured him out all the way, but I like him. I just don’t know what makes him tick.
“I’ll leave you two alone. You coming to the Farm for Sunday dinner?” he asks as he opens the door.