Play Along (Windy City Series Book 4)

The driveway is packed when I pull up to my brother’s house and the endless voices can be heard from outside. I know Cody and Travis are here, and judging by the parked cars, quite a few of our other teammates are too.

Not that I blame them. I’m lucky enough to have a world-renowned pastry chef as a sister-in-law, and wouldn’t dare miss one of these nights at my brother’s house.

With my hands full, I use my foot to open and close the front door, and as soon as I pass the threshold, Max’s laughter is the first thing I consciously hear.

It’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, and the second best follows closely behind.

“Do you think that’s funny, Bug?” Kennedy asks my nephew, her tone pitched high for him.

Listening harder, I search for her voice again, not convinced she’s actually here right now, with all my friends and family, when she’s always been adamant about keeping her work and social life separate.

Max giggles again and I finally follow the sound to find the two of them on the floor in the living room, Kennedy with her back to the wall with my nephew standing between her outstret-ched legs. He’s pressing her cheeks together, trying to see what kind of faces he can make her do, and man, is it fucking cute.

A few of my teammates are on the couch, even more sitting on the floor with their eyes glued to the television screen where another baseball game is playing.

But they’re not who I’m looking at. I’m watching Max with my wife.

Whatever I’m feeling for Kennedy is far more serious than the once superficial crush I had on the girl. I didn’t know her then, but now that I’m learning exactly who she is, I more than like what I see.

She slept on the goddamn floor with me, listened and understood parts of me that even my closest friends don’t see. And don’t get me started on that night in my apartment, making her come, seeing her fall apart . . . Fuck, I feel ruined. Entirely destroyed for anyone else.

I can’t begin to fathom the idea of wanting someone else, so how does she? How the hell does she expect for me to let her go soon? Just sign some divorce papers and call it a day.

In what fucking world?

Sitting on the floor in my brother’s packed house, she’s got this casual T-shirt on and loose-fitting jeans, cuffed once around the ankle to make them the correct length for her. Her auburn hair is split into two braids, falling over her shoulders with pieces pulled out and framing her pretty face with those freckles on full display. They trail down her bare arms and feet, where her toes are painted—I’m just not entirely sure of the color.

I move into the kitchen, hoping to catch either her or my nephew’s attention, but they don’t pay me any mind as I set the bags of groceries on the counter where Kai and Miller are busy prepping her baking equipment.

About once a month, since Miller moved to Chicago permanently, she hosts a night of experimenting, testing out new recipes for her patisserie. Monty and I are always here. Sometimes, Cody and Travis will join. Sometimes, even our friends who play for other teams in the city. And tonight, with an evening free from baseball, half the team is here.

I just had no idea that Kennedy would be too.

“Hey, man,” Kai says, rounding the island to give me a hug. “Is there more in the car?”

“No, Mr. Three Thousand, this is everything.”

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I’m going to be annoying as hell about this. My brother just earned his three-thousandth strikeout. You know who does that in their career? Hall of Famers.”

Kai slightly shakes his head as if it’s not a huge fucking deal and something that only nineteen other pitchers have done in their lifetimes.

“He’s right,” Miller agrees. “This is huge, Malakai. The Remingtons confirmed the ceremony is going to happen Saturday night after the afternoon game.”

“That feels a bit ridiculous. People don’t need to take their nights off so I can celebrate that I’m good at throwing a baseball.”

“Maybe we want to celebrate you,” I cut in. “Stop being such a little bitch about it and own it. My brother is one of the best pitchers in the game. I want to celebrate that.”

“Think about Max,” Miller says. “You’re his hero. Don’t you want him to see what you’ve accomplished? I know I do.”

Kai’s blue eyes soften, cutting to me then back to his fiancée. “Fine,” he relents. “But I’m only doing this for you three.”

Miller shoots me a knowing look because the two of us should win an award for our talents of teaming up against my brother.

“Thanks for going to the store, Isaiah,” Miller says as she digs through the groceries I bought her, pulling out fresh bags of sugar and flour. “Any requests?”

“Just send me home with all the leftovers.”

“With how many people came tonight, I’m not sure there’s going to be any leftovers, but I’ll see what I can do.”

I glance over my shoulder to the crowded living room, but still Kennedy and Max have yet to notice my presence, which is super fucking annoying because I’ve always been Max’s favorite and I was hoping I was getting close to Kennedy’s.

“I didn’t know she was going to be here,” I whisper to Kai and Miller.

A knowing smile hikes on the corner of Miller’s mouth. “I told her you were coming over and she asked if she could tag along too.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I thought so too.”

“And she knew that most of the team was going to be here?”

She nods, the excitement evident on her face.

I motion Miller to lean across the kitchen counter, meeting me partway as I keep my voice low. “Do you think she likes me?”

“Jesus,” Kai laughs. “You’re a thirty-one-year-old man. Get it together. Where the hell is my cocky little brother who would just tell a girl she was going to like him? I still have no idea how that worked so well for you.”

“Isaiah,” Miller whispers right back. “You’re married to the girl. I think that gives you the right to ask your wife if she likes you.”

Glancing over my shoulder, through the crowd, I finally catch Kennedy notice me. Those brown eyes slowly make their way to mine, a sweet smile following right behind. But Max won’t have it, pulling at her cheeks and begging for her attention again.

He had never really been all that comfortable with women until Miller came along, and though Kennedy has known my nephew longer and babysat when my brother needed help, it wasn’t until this season that Max has really grown attached to her.

I don’t blame him. I completely understand that sentiment when it comes to her.

Crossing the room, I meet them, squatting down, heels to ass so I can be at their eye level.

“Excuse me, Maxie. Are you not going to say hi to me?”

He shakes his head no, a mischievous smile on his mouth that looks a whole lot like mine.

“What?” I ask in faux shock. “But I’m your favorite uncle.”

“Ken,” he says.

“Kennedy is your auntie Ken, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still your favorite uncle.”

“Or your only uncle for that matter,” Kennedy mutters under her breath.

“Hey now,” Cody argues from the couch.

I shoot her a warning look, but it doesn’t hold much weight when I know I’m staring at her like she’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. She’s got this playful smile on her mouth and a sparkle in her eye as she teases me.

At that, Max melts forward, leaning into Kennedy, putting his head on her shoulder, and hiding from me.

“Hey, man. That’s my wife, not yours.”

“Mine,” he says, finishing with a giggle.

Travis bursts a laugh. “Wonder where the hell he got that from, Rhodes.”

Kennedy wraps a hand over his back before leaning her cheek on his head. It’s done in such an effortless way, as if any hang-ups she has ever had with the concept of hugging another human being don’t exist when it comes to Max.

It’s cute. It’s really fucking cute.

It had always been just Kai and me until Max came along. It was terrifying when he was left to be raised by my brother, but at the same time it felt like hope. We had always kept a small family circle, as if we were protecting ourselves from losing anyone else, but then Max came along and forced that circle to grow.

Miller bulldozed her way in shortly after, and Monty too. Though I think Monty had wormed his way into our family long before my brother started dating his daughter.

And now there’s Kennedy, who views this marriage as temporary and convenient, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel right having her here in my brother’s house with the rest of my team while wearing my mom’s ring on her finger.

“Fine,” I relent. “It’s a good thing I love you so much, Bug, because there’s not a chance I would share her attention with anyone else.”

“Max,” my brother calls out as he crosses the room to us. “Time to get ready for bed.”

“No!” Max turns, hiding his face entirely from his dad against Kennedy’s shoulder.

“Come on, Bug. Say good night to your aunt and uncle. And to everyone else too.”

“Monny.”

“Yeah. Grandpa Monty is on his way. We’ll let him be the one to read you a story before bed, all right?”

Max lights up at that because he loves Monty.

I can barely call him “Grandpa Monty” with a straight face. Monty is in his forties, solid mass of muscle, covered in tattoos, and intimidating as fuck if you don’t know him. But his non-biological daughter now has a non-biological son, and though there’s no blood relation, Monty is very much Max’s grandpa.

I’m sure to remind him of that fact as often as possible. Typically, in front of the team or when I’m feeling especially eager to mess with him.

“Aw, Grandpa is coming over?” Travis asks.

“I can’t wait to see Grandpa Monty,” I chime in.

“But we’ve got to get through bath time first,” my brother continues. “So we should start now, don’t you think?”

Max’s bright blue eyes scan Kennedy for her opinion and she gives an excited nod of approval, as if that’s the best idea she’s ever heard.

That doesn’t seem to be the response he was looking for, so instead, he shifts his attention to me.

“Oh, now you want to talk to me, huh? First you steal my girl and now you want my help to get out of bath time?” I laugh incredulously. “I don’t think so, little man. You’re on my sh . . . poop list.”

Max’s head falls back in a fit of giggles at the word. “Poop,” he repeats.

“Amazing.” Kai’s tone is all sarcasm. “Exactly the word I was hoping you’d add to your vocabulary. Your uncle is about to be on my poop list for that. Say good night to the boys, Bug.”

Max walks himself through the entire living room, tapping knuckles with all our teammates before Kai picks him up and slings him on his hip.

Max waves goodbye at me, then to Kennedy before bringing his chubby little hand to his mouth and blowing a sloppy kiss her way.

“Oh, come on!” I protest. “I’m right here, man!”

Kai shakes his head with a suppressed smile and Max’s laughter follows them all the way down the hall to his bedroom.

The room settles back into watching the game on TV.

“Jealous of a two-year-old,” Kennedy says quietly. “That’s a new look for you.”

“I’ve been jealous over you for years, Ken. Couldn’t care less how old the guy is.”

She bites back her laugh as I adjust, taking a seat on the floor next to her, back to the wall.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Her smile is soft, her posture relaxed, vastly different from the type-A doctor I’m accustomed to seeing at work. She’s comfortable, which, with the team here, I didn’t expect.

The front door opens and Monty walks into the already crowded house, right over to his daughter before swinging an arm over her shoulders and placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“Grandpa is here,” Travis announces. “Do you need help getting your walker out of the car?”

Cody glances into the kitchen. “Oh hey, Grandpa Monty. I found a pack of little blue pills in the clubhouse. I’m assuming those are yours.”

“Shoot,” I begin. “I should’ve sent you to the grocery store instead of going myself. It’s senior discount Wednesday.”

With a slow blink, he turns to his daughter. “Is Max around?”

“He’s taking a bath.”

“Great.” He brings his attention back to us. “You three idiots can all shut the fuck up. Travis, when you’re done running sprints tomorrow, then we can talk about who needs a walker. Cody, if you need medication to get your dick up, just say that. Nothing to be ashamed of, but you don’t need to pretend to have found them when we all know those are on a subscription delivery to your apartment. And Isaiah, I’m going to restrain myself, so I don’t embarrass you in front of your wife. We all know you do that plenty on your own.” He sighs, looking down at his daughter. “I’m so looking forward to this year’s trade deadline.”

“Cranky old man,” I mutter loud enough for him to hear.

Monty flips me the bird from the kitchen.

“Kennedy,” one of our infielders begins. “I heard you’re interviewing with San Francisco next week. Married life with Rhodes has been that shitty you’re going to take the same job but all the way across the country to get away from him, huh?”

She hesitates at my side. To everyone else’s knowledge, this interview is simply a lateral move to a new city. No one else knows her qualifications or that this new position is for a lead doctor role.

No one besides me.

I catch Monty’s eye from across the room as he waits for Kennedy’s answer.

“It’s complicated,” is what she settles on, trying not to lie.

Cody and Travis’s attention darts to me because even though they know our marriage is bullshit and this will be an easy way to uncomplicate things, they also know how I truly feel about her.

“I was wondering what the hell you two were going to do,” another teammate chimes in. “Either you were going to have to go, or Rhodes would have to take a trade.”

“We’ve had a plan from the beginning,” Kennedy explains.

“Wow. This makes so much more sense than you two staying fucking married forever to keep your job safe.”

“With how Dr. Fredrick treats you, I don’t blame you,” someone else says. “You could have a fresh start under a lead doctor who isn’t a complete asshole.”

A fresh start.

I equally hate that and want to cheer her on. Is that what it means to unequivocally care for another person? To want what’s best for them even if it’s going to hurt like a bitch to sit by and watch?

I want Kennedy to thrive in the position she trained for. I want her to get away from Dr. Fredrick. I want her to be comfortable in her own skin, to understand what it means to feel loved and cared for.

I just wish she could do all those things with me.

“They’re hiring mid-season for an athletic trainer?” Monty asks from across the room, suspicion laced in his tone.

Kennedy hesitates. My little planner didn’t have a plan for that question.

“They want to make sure she’ll fit in with the rest of the staff,” I answer for her.

His brows pinch together. “Sounds like something they’d do for a lead role and not for a member of the support staff.”

I shoot him a look, silently telling him to let it go, but he continues to study us from across the room.

Thankfully, the crack of a bat on the television steals everyone’s attention, our interrogation now in the past.

Kennedy exhales a sigh before resting her head against the wall to look at me. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“Trust me, Kenny. I always want you to come. As your husband, it’s my responsibility to make sure you come.”

With the back of her hand, she smacks me in the stomach.

I chuckle. “I would’ve invited you myself, but I got so used to you turning me down all these years. Figured you would’ve said no.”

“You make it seem like you consistently asked me for three solid years. It wasn’t that often.”

“There hasn’t been a single night out on the road that I haven’t invited you or forced one of the boys to ask for me, but you, Kennedy Kay, are excellent at keeping my ego in check.”

She pauses, watching me, the skin between her brows creasing. “I’m sorry. You were just being nice, and I—”

“Oh, don’t go soft on me now, Kenny. I wasn’t just being nice. I was hitting on you. Blatantly, might I add.”

She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t answer, her face telling me everything I need to know.

After the other night in Minneapolis when she witnessed a vulnerable side to me, she’s viewing me differently. She’s treating me differently.

I just don’t know if that difference is a good or bad thing.

I nudge her knee with mine. “Well, I’ll give you the chance to make up for it. If I invited you to something right now, would you say yes?”

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“On the details.”

I lean into her space, and she doesn’t retract.

“You’ve got to give me an answer before I give you the details. Be spontaneous, Kenny. Yes or no. Do you want to go?”

“Isaiah, I’m a planner.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware, but right now, the only thing you need to plan on is that I’ll be there.”

Her face softens, the hesitation falling away.

“So, tell me. Are you in?”

She leans into me, our heads resting against the wall and our lips only inches from each other. “I’m in.”

“That’s my girl.”

Without backing away, Kennedy bends her legs, letting her left one fall into my lap. It’s only there for a split second before she overthinks it all, breaking eye contact and lifting it back to her chest.

I don’t allow the moment to get uncomfortable or awkward for her, so I slip my hand between her knees, pulling her leg back down to rest over my lap.

“I know you said you haven’t been on a date that wasn’t a black-tie affair,” I continue, as if nothing happened.

“A date, huh?”

“Call it whatever you need to, Ken, but Kai’s award ceremony is on Saturday night, and it might be weird for me to show up without my wife. The Remingtons will be there.”

“Is that why you want me to go?”

I run a palm over her denim-covered thigh. “You know that’s not the reason I want you to go, but if you need to tell yourself that’s the reason you’re willing to, then you can.”

She doesn’t hesitate for a moment when she says, “I don’t need to tell myself anything.”

Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip, and it takes everything in me to keep from closing the two inches of space between us and pressing my mouth to hers. But the room is crowded with people she works for and though she’s getting accustomed to physical affection, I’m not sure she’s ready for the public display variety.

Kennedy’s phone dings in her lap, breaking the moment, and my eyes can’t help but land on the name that pops onto her phone.

Connor Danforth.

“Why is he texting you?”

She shrugs. “He hasn’t stopped since that dinner in Atlanta.”

I sit up straighter against the wall. “What?”

She opens her messages to show me the screen with dates of texts ranging from weeks ago until today. She hasn’t responded once.

Connor Danforth: Whatever the hell you’re doing with that guy is a fucking joke. Break it off, Kennedy. It’s not a good look for your family.

Connor Danforth: If you’re not responding because of what Mallory said, you really need to get over it. What did you expect? You wouldn’t even touch me. Of course I had to look elsewhere.

Connor Danforth: I wanted it to be you. Sometimes I still want it to be you.

Connor Danforth: Did you really cheat on me with that guy?

Connor Danforth: You’re not going to answer me? We were engaged and you can’t even give me the courtesy of a response? What the hell happened to make you so fucking cold, Kennedy?

I snatch the phone from her, my thumbs moving a mile a minute across the screen as the seething anger spills out of me.

“Don’t.” Kennedy places her hand over mine to stop me. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fuck that, Ken. He’s harassing you.”

“I don’t care.”

Her face is entirely impassive as if she really doesn’t care. As if he’s truly not affecting her.

I like that far too much.

“Fine,” I resign, handing her back her phone. “But if he keeps it up, you let me know and I’ll handle it, okay?”

“Okay.” She sets it on the floor, screen down.

With my hand still holding her thigh, I gently run the length of it, rubbing my palm absentmindedly against the denim as we both shift our attention to the game that’s on the TV.

My teammates shoot the shit around us, the house rowdy as hell, but Kennedy and I sit in complete silence. Me softly rubbing the inside of her thigh and her head awfully close to resting on my shoulder.

We stay that way for an entire inning before Kennedy quietly asks, “Do you think I’m cold?” for only me to hear.

I could fucking kill him.

With the back of my hand, I test her forehead. “You feel pretty warm to me.”

“Isaiah, I’m being serious. I think something is wrong with me.”

I adjust to face her. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you and fuck him for making you think there is, Kennedy. No one has ever been warm to you, including that guy, so how would you know how to be anything different?”

“So you do think I’m cold?”

I let out a slow breath.

“Yeah, maybe I do. But I don’t think that’s wrong or bad or something that needs to be fixed. It’s part of your personality. You’re a little reserved. A bit hesitant towards people.” I take her hand in mine and she doesn’t resist for a moment. “But it also feels like I won the fucking lottery knowing you’re no longer hesitant towards me. I like that you’re a tough one to crack, because when I say something stupid and get to see you smile, I know it’s only for me. And that smile, it’s all warmth.”

Her brows are furrowed, her lips slightly parted. She’s looking at me as if she can’t believe I could like her cold exterior. As if I couldn’t like that she hasn’t made it easy for me. I’m not sure how she doesn’t see it. It’s been years, and there hasn’t been a single thing Kennedy has done or said that hasn’t kept me coming back for more.

“Besides,” I continue, toying with the ring on her finger. “Winter has always been my favorite season anyway.”

She bursts this unpolished, un-Kennedy-like laugh, her smile I was hoping to see coming back to life.

“I can’t win with you sometimes,” she says before dropping her head to my shoulder and leaving it there.

There’s no denying it. I’m an absolute fool when it comes to this girl.