The team surrounds Isaiah’s seat, entirely entranced by Kai’s son, and I couldn’t be happier to see how much these guys love him.
It’s an odd situation, having a baby travel with a team of professional athletes. The hours are tough, the road can be an escape for some guys, and I know the organization has changed a lot of the travel schedule to cater to the Rhodeses. In a short time, I feel oddly protective of that little guy, and seeing this team fawn over him instantly does something to my chest.
The back of the airplane is clearly for Max. A crib is anchored into the floor with black-out curtains pushed against the fuselage, ready to pull around him while he sleeps. And he even has his own play area on the opposite side of the aisle.
The Warriors really did go all out to make this work.
“This is our spot.” Kai gestures to the row behind his brother, one side empty, the other with a carrier strapped into the aisle seat. “Max is pretty good about sleeping on the flights. If it’s a day flight, this is his play area.” Kai motions to the empty spot across from the crib. “Don’t feel like you need to hang out with him on the plane. I’ll be with him and if I need to go over film with the coaches or something like that, Isaiah can watch him.”
“But I like watching him.”
Kai’s attention darts to me. “Okay. I just don’t want to burn you out on him.”
“I don’t feel that way at all. I like spending time with him.”
Kai doesn’t say anything, simply looks at me with a softness I’ve only seen him wear around his son. “Okay.”
“Please take your seats. The boarding door is closing.” The flight attendant’s voice booms over the PA system.
Isaiah goes to hand his nephew over, but Kai motions to the carpeted aisle floor.
“Put him on his feet. Let’s see if he wants to get some steps in.” Kai gets down on his haunches and holds out his hands, hoping Max will take his first steps in order to reach him.
Instead, Max grips the armrest as if his life depended on it before falling back. It’s clearly his naptime, because Max isn’t much of a crier, but as soon as he hits the ground, he begins to wail.
“All right, Bug,” Kai says, picking him up to soothe him. “We’ll get it next time.”
He bounces him, rubbing his back until Max sucks in enough air to calm himself down. It only takes a few minutes, and once the crying stops, Kai gets him strapped in his carrier for takeoff before sliding into the empty seat beside it. I take the free row opposite them with a perfect view to watch the baseball player smile down at his kid, Max looking equally in love, staring up at his dad with tired and teary eyes.
Kai brings his son’s hand to his lips, peppering kisses on his palm, finally pulling a sweet giggle from the typically happy boy.
I’ve never thought about having kids before, but I’d be shocked to find a woman whose ovaries aren’t doing all sorts of cartwheels watching Kai Rhodes know exactly what to do to make his son feel better.
Chapter 11
Kai
As soon as my brother is settled in my room, I softly close the hotel door behind me, hoping not to wake Max. I almost knocked on the door between my room and Miller’s to ask her to watch him for one more hour before calling it a night, but when I had gotten back from my game, she was nose deep in her cookbooks and laptop, searching for inspiration, I’m sure.
Last week, after she told me about her job, I googled her name. Surprisingly, I hadn’t done that before. I suppose because she’s Monty’s daughter and I already knew she was more than I could handle, I didn’t think there was much more for me to find.
I was wrong.
The Internet was littered with her name. Impressive isn’t a strong enough word to describe Miller Montgomery’s career. Her accomplishments are unheard of for someone her age. She’s been featured in articles, won prestigious awards, worked under some of the biggest names in her industry before becoming one herself. But it was the pictures that shocked me more than anything. Her in a crisp white chef’s coat, hair in a slicked back bun. No nose ring, tattoos covered. She was hardly recognizable from the girl I met in the elevator just weeks ago.
She shows up every day in a different pair of overalls, typically with her feet bare, but after seeing her professional side online, there’s a part of me that feels privileged that Max and I get the lesser-known side of Miller, no matter how wild it may be.
She likes my son. My son likes her, and that makes me like her just a bit more.
After my last start on the road, I lied about not needing to cool down from the game. This time, I can’t. I pitched into the seventh inning tonight and my shoulder is screaming. I doubt I’ll be able to pick up Max with my throwing arm tomorrow.
Heading to the top floor of our hotel in Houston, I grab a couple of towels and make my way outside to the rooftop pool, needing to get a few laps in to cool down my muscles. It’s late, after midnight, and the pool is closed to the public, but it’s never stopped me before. I live for the peace of a solo swim after a game.
Only tonight, I’m not alone.
Steam from the neighboring hot tub rises behind her, but she sits with her feet dangling in the pool. It’s a warm July night, and the summer moon provides just enough light to outline her. Miller in a two-piece suit. A strapless forest green piece of fabric covers her chest, and her bottoms are pulled up so high over her hips, every inch of her thighs that I like so much are exposed.
She’s fucking stunning, all earth tones and tattooed skin glistening under the moonlight.
Opening the gate, I make plenty of noise so she knows she’s no longer alone.
“Breaking and entering, Rhodes? Not very responsible of you.”
“Maybe I’ve got a wild streak you don’t know about.”
She chuckles a hearty laugh. “Yeah. Okay.”
Little does she know, pre-dad Kai was as wild as her.
“I figured you’d be in your room looking for inspiration in one of those cookbooks you’re traveling with.”
She nods towards the summer moon sitting just above the city line in the distance. “This feels pretty inspirational.”
She’s not wrong. It’s stunning out here.
Both the view and the girl I shouldn’t be looking at.
I drop my towels onto a nearby lounge chair and in my periphery, I watch Miller as she begins to stand, pulling her legs out of the water, my eyes wandering every inch of that wet skin.
“Where are you going?”
She gestures to the hotel. “Giving you the pool. I figured you’d want it to yourself.”
“You should stay.”
Okay . . . I have no idea why I suggested that.
She hesitates, but doesn’t answer me. Simply retakes her seat, her red-painted toes dipping back into the water.
Pulling my shirt over my head, I toss it on the chair before adjusting the waistband on my trunks. I catch Miller’s greens taking their time tracking every ridge of my stomach and chest from across the pool, only the glow of the lights under the water allowing me to see it happen.
It’s been so long. So fucking long since I’ve noticed a woman’s attention on me. So long since I’ve been looked at in a way that makes me feel like a man and not just someone’s dad. I preen under her gaze, my chest expanding from the attention.
“You have tattoos.” It’s a statement, but her voice holds a bit of surprise in the tone.
Looking down at my ribs and thigh, I note the ink she’s studying.
“I always thought you were judging me for mine.”
Fuck. Was I? Maybe I did, but it wasn’t that she had tattoos or a septum ring or anything about the way she looked. I assumed if a woman were to ever watch my son, she’d be a sweet old lady with a knack for crafts and gardening. I didn’t expect a foul-mouthed firecracker who’s also a badass in the kitchen.
“Nah. I like yours. They suit you.”
Miller’s lips tick.