Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

“Drinking at 9 a.m., though? I was judging you for that.”


She chuckles and her raspy laugh is the last thing I hear before I dive headfirst into the deep end of the pool. I swim across the length to the shallow end where she sits before popping out of the water to find myself a foot or so in front of her, raking a hand through my hair to move it from my face.

“Dear God, Kai. No wonder you have a kid. Just looking at you like this would get any woman pregnant.”

I huff a laugh. “Let’s not joke about anyone getting pregnant again, please. I’m doing a terrible job raising one. I couldn’t handle another.”

She sits up straighter. “What are you talking about?”

It’s too late to get into that conversation. I’m too tired. Too sore. My mind is too exhausted to think of anything other than loosening my shoulder and falling into bed. I’ll have to be up with Max in a handful of hours, but Miller’s dark green bathing suit, wet and suctioned to every crevice of her body, has me eager to pull an all-nighter just to stare at her.

Monty’s daughter. Monty’s stunning-as-fuck daughter.

With that, I duck under the water and swim the length of the pool again, stretching out my shoulder and hoping the distance between us will help me forget how beautiful that woman is.

But with my eyes closed, she’s all I can see, and when I come back up for air on the shallow side and find her sitting there, leaning back on her palms, I know the image won’t be leaving my mind for far too long.

“You should know by now that ignoring me isn’t going to make me forget, Kai.” Her tone is even, confident. “You’re a fantastic dad. And if someone needs to tell you, I’ll be the one to do it.”

I don’t believe her, but there’s no point in arguing. “Thank you.”

“Who’s watching him right now?”

“Isaiah.”

“Where’s his mom?”

A startled laugh escapes me and I slip under the water for a moment to gain my bearings. “It’s a little late for that talk, don’t you think?” is what I say when I come back up.

“Nope. I think it’s the perfect time.”

I turn away from her, pacing and pushing my way through the water. The view is stunning from up here, the entirety of the city below us. The night is warm, the water is calming, and this almost naked woman has my lips feeling real loose.

“Seattle, I’d imagine. But I’m not sure.”

Before I know it, I hear a small splash as Miller enters the water behind me. She swims to where I stand before she pulls herself out and takes a seat on the ledge, forcing me to look at her.

Forced. I laugh to myself. Sort of feels like a privilege to watch Miller Montgomery dripping wet in a bathing suit.

Her voice is softer than it typically is. “What happened?”

Water drips down her body, some of it falling between her tits and my attention is glued. She knows it too and like some kind of sex hypnotist, she scoots slightly closer and asks again, “What happened with Max’s mom?”

“Are you using your body to distract me?”

“Is it working?”

I scrub a palm over my face because, yes, it’s working. A little too fucking well. “She was um . . . someone I was casually seeing when I played in Seattle. I met her at a local restaurant the team frequented. Ashley was our server. It was never anything serious, and it was over as soon as I signed with Chicago. Just a fling, or so I thought. I moved to the Midwest in the fall, and just about a year later, she showed up at my apartment with my six-month-old son in her arms.”

“She never told you she was pregnant?” Miller’s brows are pinched, anger evident.

“She didn’t know until after I had already left. But, no, I don’t think she had planned to ever tell me.”

“I hate her.”

I chuckle. “I don’t.”

“How could you not?”

“Because she genuinely believed she was doing the right thing, however misguided it was. She didn’t want me to think she was trying to trap me or take my money, so she had planned to do it on her own, but six months in, she realized she didn’t want to be a mother. That’s when she showed up.”

Miller scoffs. “I’ll hold a grudge for you then since you’re being sane and reasonable. That’s fucked, Kai. You missed out on six whole months.”

“I know I did, and I think about those six months every day of my life. What I missed, what Max learned without me around. I don’t hate her, but I am angry with her for not telling me about him sooner. When she showed up in Chicago, there was no question in my mind that I would be the one to raise him.”

“And you were sure he was yours? Just like that?”

Lifting my brows, I wait for her to connect the dots. Max has my steel-blue eyes, my dark hair. There’s no mistaking that he’s mine.

“Okay,” she laughs, holding up her hands. “Stupid question.”

“I’ve already missed so much, I’m afraid to miss any more.”

The space goes eerily quiet, the silence screaming.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “It’s too late to be getting deep on you.”

“It’s never too late to go deep in me, Baseball Daddy.”

A startled laugh bursts from my lips, breaking the tension. “You’re ridiculous.”

She smiles and I like it far too much. I want to stare at her, tell her too many things when she’s looking at me like that. So instead, I dip under the water and swim away until I feel her on my heels, taking my same path in the pool.

Popping out in the deep end, I tread until she breaks the surface as well. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Following you around this goddamn pool until you tell me the rest.”

“The rest of what?”

“The rest of the story. Why you don’t trust anyone with your son. Why you don’t trust me.” She uses her arms and legs far more than she needs to, just to stay upright in the water. “Also, I’m not a great swimmer, so if I drown, that’s on your conscience for life.”

“I do trust you.”

She stills, those green eyes going wide before she slowly starts to sink.

“All right, Michael Phelps.” Reaching out, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into my body. “No need to sacrifice your life here. I’ll talk.”

Our legs tangle under the water, our skin sliding against one another. The water is plenty warm, but I feel the line of goosebumps scatter up Miller’s spine underneath my palm. Hand snaking around her hip, her legs hook around my waist, eyes slowly dipping to my lips because they’re far too close to hers.

I clear my throat, swimming us back to the shallow end.

When I reach the height she can stand, I still don’t let go. When she tries to remove her legs from my hips, I tighten my grip. She feels good. Too good. I truly have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman’s body on mine, but I don’t want it to end just yet.

“You trust me?” she whispers.

“I think so.”

“Why?”

“God, I have no idea. You’re like a bull in a china shop so maybe I’m just clear out of my mind.”

Slowly, I walk her back to the ledge, depositing her to sit, but I don’t leave. I stay standing between her open legs, my palms flat on the concrete bracketing them.

“Ask your questions.”

“Why have you fired every one of his nannies?” She doesn’t hesitate, but I do.

My head drops, Miller’s thighs right there in front of me, and I have to fist my hands to keep from touching them.

“Can I tell you why?” she quietly asks. “I think you want to stop playing baseball. I think you’re so worried you’re going to miss out on the big moments, that Max’s caretaker is going to be the first one to experience them. I think you’re so hung up on what you did miss that you’re desperate not to miss any more.”