Listen, Pitch (There's No Crying in Baseball 3)

“And the one we called just so happened to have two ready and willing surrogates ready and waiting?” She shook her head. “I should’ve known that was too easy.”

I agreed.

I should have, but I hadn’t.

That was what was really bothering me. I’d known Pablo my entire life, as he did me. I really should’ve been able to predict what had happened.

Should’ve been able to protect everyone—yet it hadn’t worked.

“Well, shit.” She shook her head, frowning.

That frown turned into a bared set of teeth. “Did you find Marsala?”

I nodded once. “Dead.”

“Stupid bitch.”

I noticed that she didn’t ask how she was dead when she’d been deemed as stable not five minutes after us arriving. She’d only taken the medicine that had started her contractions—having gotten those from her doctor before this had all started in the instance that a situation such as the one she’d found herself in came to fruition.

Now, she was very much dead.

That was also thanks to Joker.

If Joker was anything, he was thorough, that was for sure.

“Are we safe now, then?” she asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I nodded, tucking hair behind her ear.

Henley blew out a breath, then stood up, heading in the direction of our children.

We’d been in to see them both a few minutes before, and the only reason I’d gotten her away from them was due to a doctor asking us to step outside while machines were moved, and monitors were set back in place.

The move earlier had been done hastily, and this new house just outside of town had better equipment thanks to me calling in a few favors.

“Let me…” Henley never got to finish her sentence.

In between her standing up and taking a few steps in the direction of the babies, she’d lost her footing.

No, she hadn’t lost her footing.

She’d fainted.

“Henley!”

***

“You’re mistaken.” Henley shook her head. “I’m not pregnant. I got my period just last week. I’m not pregnant. Periods and pregnancies aren’t something that go together.”

The doctor smiled wanly. “Trust me when I say that you are indeed pregnant. And not just by a little bit. More like six months along.”

Henley turned her head to stare at me with shock-filled eyes.

“I told you to wear condoms!”EpilogueIn marriage, you really have two conversations. The one you’re having, and the one your husband thinks you’re having.

-Henley’s secret thoughts

Henley

Five months later

Rhys rolled over in the bed, jostling me out of my semi-doze, and reached for the phone. I had my transmitter in so I could hear the babies if they woke.

“Hello?” Rhys answered, sounding tired as hell.

Which he probably was.

Our twins were getting their first teeth in, and they were little baby spawns of the devil over the last two days.

The only thing that had kept me sane was Rhys’ constant vigil at my side.

He’d rock with me, walk the floors, and sing lullabies if nobody was listening.

Then we’d switch kids and do it all over again.

Thank God that our younger baby, who was three months younger than the twins, was such a good baby.

Seriously, I’m not sure how the hell I would’ve done this without him. I still wasn’t sure that I was doing it with him, but at least him at my side made all of this bearable…until spring training started back up in T minus eleven days.

Then there was the little added fact that not only was he starting spring training, but they were training in freakin’ Oklahoma of all places because the Lumberjacks stadium, as well as all team buildings and practice fields, were getting a facelift.

Meaning he wasn’t just starting up practice from sun up to sun down. He was also going to be in a different state while he did it for three months.

Though, I was following him there once we found a rental house—although Rhys said he was going to straight up buy one if it got to the point where he couldn’t find one that he liked in a good amount of time.

“Hello?”

I vaguely heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the line and wondered if it was Renata.

“That your sister?” I asked with a sleepy voice.

He shook his head. “No.”

I hummed and closed my eyes, wondering if it’d be okay to go ahead and go back to sleep. He wouldn’t mind. I knew that he wouldn’t, yet I felt like a jerk for being asleep when he was just as tired as I was.

“Okay, when do you need me?” he rumbled.

That woke me up better than the coffee that I’d been mainlining since the birth of the twins.

The twins had spent seven full weeks in the NICU. Marshall had gotten to come home first, as he was the first one to reach the five-pound mark and be breathing on his own. Maddie had followed a few days later, reaching the five-pound mark on her exact due date.