Beyond the Bases (Out of Reach 1)

“No time, I wanted to get here.”

“Do you at least have a change of clothes with you?”

“Yeah, my bag is out in my truck.”

I take a minute to look him over. He’s a sweaty, dusty, gorgeous mess. “You went into the store like that?” I ask.

“Yeah, if I’d been thinking, I would have sent someone to do it during the game. Then I could have been here sooner.”

“Easton,” I say, reaching out and resting my hand against his chest. “We’re fine. She’s fine. She’s sick, but kids get sick.”

“Not ours,” he says adamantly.

My mouth drops open at his reply. I try to speak, but the words just will not come. I try again, but don’t get the chance when Paisley’s croaking voice calls out for not me, but Easton.

“East,” she croaks softly. I can hear the anguish in her voice.

Easton kicks off his cleats and rushes past me to the couch. “Hey, princess,” he whispers. Bags still in his hands, he leans forward and places them on the table. “I got ice cream and Popsicles, some sherbet, all kinds of things that might make your throat feel better.”

She opens her mouth to speak, and he hushes her. “Shh, P, just point to what you want and I’ll get it for you.”

I watch as she points to a Popsicle and he makes quick work of pulling out the flavors and having her point to the one she wants. No one has ever cared for her besides me and my mom. There’s a lump in my throat watching him with her. He’s gentle, and I can see the worry on his face. He’s not used to kids. I know he has a sister who’s a good bit younger than him, but I can imagine as a kid he didn’t pay much attention. Yet here he is, tending to my daughter as if it’s second nature. As if she is really his.

“You eat your Popsicle while I run and take a shower. Then we can snuggle, okay?” She bobs her head up and down when he’s finished speaking. Leaning in, he kisses her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

Standing from the couch, he walks toward me. “Hey, baby.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Let me grab a shower and you can take a break.” He gives me another quick kiss before he rushes out the door to get his bag.

I don’t bother to correct him that I don’t need a break. Paisley has slept most of the day, but the fact he wants to means something. It means everything. When he’s here with us, he’s not Easton Monroe, the baseball player. He’s our East. He’s the man who we both adore.

While Easton takes a shower, I grab a couple of paper towels. One I wet, the other I leave dry, and head back to the living room. “Use this for your hands.” I hand Paisley the wet paper towel.” Her lips and tongue are red from the cherry Popsicle. Her hands too.

I’m just taking a seat in the chair when Easton comes back into the room. His hair is still wet from his shower, and he’s wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt. He walks to the couch and sits down, pulling P’s legs into his lap.

“Is it yummy?” he asks.

She nods.

“Good game,” I say, pulling his attention away from Paisley.

“Thanks. I was distracted and played like sh-crap, but thanks.”

My lips twitch. “I didn’t notice.”

“I mean, it wasn’t my worst game, but my mind was here, you know?”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want you to worry when we didn’t show up, but it sounds like you worried regardless.”

“Of course I did.” He almost sounds offended. “You two are what matters, Larissa.”

“All done,” Paisley croaks.

I hop out of my seat, and help her clean up with the wet towel, then wipe her face and hands with the dry one. I feel her forehead and she’s warm. “It’s time for more medicine. I’ll be right b

ack.”

“It’s yucky,” I hear her rasp out to Easton as I leave the room.

When I make it back to the living room, Paisley is curled up on Easton’s lap with a blanket thrown over both of them. “Open up,” I say, holding the medicine spoon out for her. She takes it and makes her usual face, letting me know she’s not happy about it.