Dirty Curve

I have a toddler, and she acts like a toddler, as she should. She cries if she’s upset and laughs when she’s entertained. Smiles when she’s happy and pouts when she’s sad.

Bailey is sweet and kindhearted, and the most precious thing, and not just to me, but to her daddy too.

And Tobias is her daddy, in every single way that counts.

I couldn’t imagine a better man or father if I tried. I’m unconvinced one exists.

Pushing to my feet, I slide my fingers through the chain linked fence as he gets set for the very last throw of the season, the pitch that will light the fire of the young man inside him and solidify everything he hoped was true but wasn’t so sure of at different stages in his life.

He has it in him.

He’s capable and enough.

He’s so much more than enough.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Tobias lifts his chin the slightest bit, allowing me to see his eyes beneath the bill of his hat.

Suddenly, person after person, row after row jumps to stand, and my eyes float from one side to the other, teal and black blanketing the place at every angle. The echo of the crowd vibrates from all around me, the faith they have in their pitcher bringing tears to my eyes and my favorite smirk to Tobias’s lips.

He isn’t even nervous, not in the least bit.

He’s ready for this, worked his ass off to get right here right now.

“Come on, hotshot. Make this your dirtiest curve yet.”

He does just that.

The pitch is thrown, and the crowd is celebrating before the umpire has even made the call.

The Miami Marlins win the World Series on their home field.

Before I even have time to look behind me, security is at my side, ushering me down and through the small opening that leads to the field – no doubt in my mind Tobias gave them strict instructions to do exactly this.

He’s already halfway to me, his glove in the dirt, and then I’m in his arms.

Tobias swings us around, kissing me hard on the lips as he lowers me to my feet and grips my cheeks with both hands.

“How’d I do, Tutor Girl?” He grins, sweat beading along his brow.

“I’d say you aced it, hotshot.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight.” He smashes his lips to mine again, glancing up at the suite, where Bianca and Milo are being escorted from, Bailey in his arms.

A few guys come up, his coach hot on their tail, congratulating and hugging Tobias.

I use the moment to slip my hand into my purse, my stomach erupting with butterflies as I do.

The men are approached by a few others in suits, and my husband turns back to me, pulling me against him, and as he does, he feels the toy now smashed between our bodies.

With a small frown, he pulls back, laughing when he sees the little baseball in my palm.

“Holy shit, you brough it.” He takes it in his hand, tossing it up and catching it in his palm.

“No.” I shake my head. “I bought it.”

He frowns, and then he looks to the ball again. “This...this is new.” His eyes dart up to mine.

“Yeah,” I nod. “It is. Bailey’s still learning to share so...”

In that instant, the toy is forgotten. It falls to our feet and he grips my face once again, but this time, to hold me still. “Baby...are we pregnant?”

A mix between a cry and a laugh escapes me and I nod. “Yeah, we are.”

“Oh my—” he cuts himself off, and shouts into the air. Bending, he lifts me up, his arms tight around my knees, and starts jogging.

Laughing, I hold on for dear life, and he runs right for the reporter section, cutting off the interview they were getting with the head coach.

They’re all more than happy to turn their mics to the man of the hour.

But he doesn’t let them speak, at least not yet.

He lowers me beside him, leans into the microphone and announces to the millions of people watching, “Tonight is one of the best nights of my life!” he shouts, getting the crowd riled up again. “We just won the game of all games and my gorgeous wife has just told me that we’re expecting baby number two!”

Tears fall from my eyes, and I burry my face in his chest, his arms closing tight around me as the fans go wild, happy for the man they’ve come to love.

Happy for us both.

“Bailey!” He shouts then, and I look over my shoulder to find the others have finally made it.

I let go of him, and Bianca pretty much jumps on me, squealing and clapping like a crazy person, and Milo steps in next.

Bailey is already in her daddy’s arms and that’s exactly where she stays as he gives interview after interview right there on that field.