Sway (Landry Family 1)

I gasp.

Lola smashes me from the side, her gasp taking away all air from the immediate vicinity.

Huxley sits down, unimpressed.

Barrett gets situated on the mound as the fangirls in the crowd go crazy and I have half a notion to cover Huxley’s ears at some of the lewd suggestions being spewed towards the dugout.

He waves to the fans before tossing the pitch. It bounces once before it makes it to the plate. The crowd cheers wildly and I watch as his lean body jogs halfway to the plate and he embraces the catcher in a half-hug.

“That guy can’t throw a baseball,” Huxley says. “They should’ve at least gotten someone that could make it to the plate.”

“That’s the mayor,” Lola tells him because I’m still without words, my eyes glued to him as he makes his way to the clubhouse.

“He’s not a baseball player, that’s for sure,” Hux scoffs.

Barrett is met at the steps by his brother. Side-by-side, they’re breathtaking. I can’t begin to imagine how beautiful their family pictures must be.

Lincoln slaps him on the shoulder and says something in his ear, making Barrett laugh and I’m jealous I can’t hear it. Not the words, but the sound of his voice. I heard it just today but I already miss it . . . especially knowing I’ll probably never hear it again.

Almost like he knows I’m watching, he looks up. His gaze falls right on me like I’m the only one sitting in the stands.

A look of confusion flickers across his features before he breaks out into a wide smile.

Barrett

“Nice job, Mayor,” a player says before fleeing the dugout to take the field.

“Don’t lie to him!” Lincoln shouts after him, making the rest of the departing guys laugh. “That was the shittiest pitch I’ve ever seen. I’ve been embarrassed by you before, but tonight tops them all. Fuck.”

“Good thing I’m not a player then,” I mutter.

What’s she doing here?

“The next time you need anything baseball related, call me or Graham,” Lincoln says, turning to our brother. “Shit, G. We should’ve had you stand in. Trade in your yuppie polo shirt and lose the glasses and you could pass as Barrett. It’d be close enough. At least you wouldn’t embarrass me.”

Graham leans against the wall and he and Linc engage in some conversation that probably involves making fun of me.

How can I see her?

I know it’s risky and stupid to want to see her now, right here in the middle of the entire city, basically. But I can’t help it. Just knowing she’s feet away from me and not be

ing able to see her kills me.

As does the idea of her being here with someone else.

I leap up the few steps to the field and steal a peek up the stands. She sits with a raven haired girl that looks vaguely familiar and a little blond boy with a mitt.

Bingo!

“Hey, Linc!” I say, whipping around and descending into the dugout. “Remember the time when we were kids and you were getting your ass beat and I saved you?”

“Uh, no,” he says, his voice echoing off the now-empty walls of the room. The players not playing are talking to fans, doing promotional stuff. We’re the only ones around. “That didn’t happen.”

“Well, let’s pretend it did. And today is the day you pay me back.”

“What the hell?” he laughs, looking at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am.

“What’s going on with you?” Graham asks, standing straight. He quirks a brow, just like our father, getting his contingency plan ready for action. “And don’t even tell me it’s . . . that.”