“You guys gonna have kids?”
He shrugs. “When she’s ready. She worked her ass off to get a degree, and even though she doesn’t need to, she works. Daisy is independent as fuck, and I love her for it. Right now she’s having a ball with my niece, Shea.”
As soon as we see Wilson pull in, we get out of my SUV. Davenport heads back to the stadium while I linger in the parking lot for Wilson.
“Hey, Skipper,” I say, as I meet him at his car. “Ainsley and I need some time to figure out the right course for us, but I need a favor from you.”
“What’s that, Bailey?”
“Can you keep Ainsley on the down-low? Not tell anyone that she’s your daughter? I’ve got a good thing with this team and don’t want to fuck it up.”
“And you feel that her being my daughter will hurt your career here?”
He’s a smart man and knows exactly how I’m feeling. I nod and kick a pebble away from me. “People already know we dated back in Florida, and I don’t want shit fucked up.”
He eyes me warily before agreeing. “Don’t hurt her.”
I shake my head. “I won’t.” I leave him at his car and hustle back to the clubhouse. It’s not going to matter what I do, as long as I do the right thing for Ainsley and me.
I don’t know how baseball players remain married. Cooper and I aren’t even together, and I feel like a widow. True to his word, he calls every day, but it’s more of a friendly call, and even though I’ve tried to get more out of him, he’s very matter-of-fact about why’s he calling—to make sure the baby and I are okay.
Today, I’m hanging with Daisy Davenport. After being cooped up in this apartment for three days, she’s taking me sightseeing and out to lunch with a little retail therapy added in for good measure.
Daisy is a cute little thing, a few inches shorter that me, but full of life and deeply in love with her husband.
“We’re going to check out some sites before it gets too warm,” Daisy tells me as she maneuvers the streets of downtown Boston. There’s a crowd of people everywhere, and most of them are wearing some type of sports clothing. About a third of them are in Renegades gear, a few with Cooper’s name on them.
“Bostonians love their sports teams, huh?”
“You have no idea,” she tells me as she masterfully parallel parks her car. “After the marathon bombing, the community really came together. We were strong before, but now it’s stronger. And the teams give back all the time. The guys are always down here, just hanging out. A couple of weeks ago, Travis Kidd had a kissing booth set up. Women lined up for miles to give him five dollars for a kiss on the cheek and a photo op.”
“What’d he do with all the money?”
“It was a fund-raiser for the children’s hospital.”
My heart warms, thinking that Cooper could do something like that someday.
“Ryan Stone, he’s the general manager, well, he’s married to Hadley Carter, and she’s down here a lot playing for the crowd.”
“Oh, I like her music. Don’t people bother her?”
Daisy shakes her head and points to where we’re heading. “No, it’s like we don’t care that they’re famous.”
“Oh, God, I smell cookies.” I rub my tummy, feeling as the baby flutters inside.
“Come on, they’re delicious.”
Daisy takes me into Quincy Market and has me weaving in and out of human traffic. The place is packed, and the smell of food has my stomach growling and my mouth watering.
“This place is like heaven.”
She laughs and heads down a ramp and into another crowd. “It is, but Ethan and I don’t come here a lot, at least not together.” Daisy stops at the cookie stand and orders a dozen cookies. I want to ask her if those are just for her because, right now, I could get my own dozen and roll in another.
Daisy hands me a fresh cookie from the bag, and I swear I’m having an out-of-body experience when I taste the warm chocolate as it touches my tongue. “I’ve died.”