Dugout

Raising my cousin’s three kids wasn’t in my five-year plan. Actually, it wasn’t in any plan. One minute I’m a single labor and delivery nurse living a quiet life and the next, I’m navigating guardianship hearings, meltdowns, and homework I’m pretty sure requires a math degree. Enter Hayes Carlisle. My best friend’s older brother. Chicago Colts newest catcher. And the man I once kissed and immediately pretended I didn’t. So, when the custody battle I’ve been dreading becomes a reality, I shouldn’t be surprised that Hayes swoops in with a wild idea—a fake relationship.

Getting pregnant after a one-night stand with my brother’s best friend was never part of the plan. We’re talking about Foster Davis here. Chicago Colts closing pitcher. The broody king of one-word answers. And the man everyone knows keeps one foot out the door. Surprisingly, when two pink lines turn my world upside down, Foster doesn’t run. He steps in, he shows up, and he insists we do this together. Pretending we’re fine is easy. Pretending this is just about the baby? Not so much. Because Foster is gentle when no one’s watching. Because he looks at me like I’m something worth protecting.