Curveball (The Sun Valley Series Book 3) by EJ Blaise

Author:EJ Blaise [Blaise, EJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

26

CASS

Best money I’ve ever spent.

I’m trying to not be a leering creep but Jesus. Sunday looks good. I knew that romper was a good idea. She swore up and down she didn’t need it, she’d never wear it, but this is the third time this week the dark gray material has made an appearance. Third time I’ve caught myself staring across a parking lot or a field or, in this case, the park serving as the location for this weekend’s Select tournament, distracted by bare legs and thin straps and the soft swell you can only see when she turns the right way, when she absently presses a hand to her stomach.

So cool. Only way to describe it. The actual physical proof that my kid is right there is so fucking cool. I spend a large portion of my day fighting the urge to pull up that photo of Sunday cradling her bump and just stare at it like a fool. The same way I’m staring at her right now.

“You’re gawking.”

Pulling my gaze from where Sunday sits on the sidelines, I quirk a brow at the man teasing me. “I’m allowed.”

Ben’s dumbass smile glints in the spring sunlight. “Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Coach.”

“I just think you’re adorable.”

I tut playfully. “I have a girlfriend, Benny boy.”

He ignores my joke. “You need one of those t-shirts. Y’know, one of the ‘I heart New York’ ones except it says ‘I heart Sunday Lane.”

A groan sounds from beside me. “You can’t wear that.”

Ben leans forward to grin at the eleven-year-old beside me, who’s grimace is visible through the cage of his helmet. “Why not?”

August grumbles, “‘S embarrassing.”

“We can get you one too, Gus. ‘I love my mom.” Ben winks at me. “Yours can say ‘I love his mom too.’”

August groans again. “Stop.”

“Leave him alone.” I cuff my fellow coach upside the head, my free hand grasping August’s shoulder and squeezing. “He’s got a game to win. Let him focus.”

The kid’s grimace deepens.

“Hey.” I turn him towards me, palming his other shoulder too. “You nervous?”

August gulps, gaze on his cleats. “No.”

“Good.” Dropping to my haunches, I hook a couple fingers around his helmet cage, forcing sage eyes to meet mine. “‘Cause you don’t need to be.”

As far as motivational speeches go, it’s a pretty poor one. But I’m quickly learning that August doesn’t need much. Simple, sincere encouragements go a long way, and today is no different.

Setting his shoulders, he nods once, bumping the knuckles I extend towards him before jogging onto the field, confidence renewed.

As I watch him go, I sigh at the eyes burning a hole into the side of my face. “What now?”

Ben doesn’t say anything but that resurrected smirk speaks for him. And then it softens and says something else, something I don’t understand but I feel in my chest like an ache behind my sternum. He claps me on the shoulder before jogging off, yelling for the kids to huddle up.

I’m about to follow when a pitchy voice stops me. “Coach Morgan, can I speak to you?”

If it was anyone else, I’d pretend not to hear.

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