The Setup and the Substitute by Jiffy Kate
Chapter 38
Owen
Sophie: Just wanted to say good morning and I hope you have a great game today.
Me: Good morning, beautiful.
Me: And, thanks. Hopefully, we can kick some ass and sweep this series.
Our first fewgames back from the break have been barn burners.
Bo had a walk off homerun last night.
And the bullpen has been on fire.
Mine and Sophie’s conversations haven’t been too intense. We haven’t made any declarations or tackled any huge topics. But the connection is there and little by little we’re finding our way back to that sweet spot we were in before everything went to shit.
A second later, a gif of a person opening a can of whoop ass pops up on my screen and I laugh.
Her quirky sense of humor is another thing I love about her. I should be making a list because when I finally get the chance to tell her, I’ll probably forget all the little things I’ve been racking up over the past few days.
Her impeccable timing.
Her ability to make me laugh.
The way she wears her heart on her sleeve.
I could go on and on, but when I think about her too long, the pain in my chest is so real and I feel like I can’t breathe. Is this being in love?
If it is, I’ve never been in love before.
* * *
Later that night,I roll my tired body into bed. After a semi-early game that ended in a win, the guys insisted on beers at a local bar. Of course, my innate response was to decline, but I knew if I came back here too early, I’d just sit and think about Sophie. And that’s not a bad thing, but the more I think about her, the more I miss her and there’s nothing I can do about it for the next four days.
Four days.
Three more games and a travel day.
That’s all that stands between me and her and some much-needed alone time. Just me and Sophie. No kids. No distractions.
The thought of being with her again sends a jolt of anticipation through my body.
When I let my mind drift, I can still feel her skin beneath my fingertips and the way her hair feels when it brushes against my bare chest. Her sweet smell and the taste of her kiss. It’s all there, just a memory away, but I want the real thing.
I’m craving it.
Craving her.
The sound of my phone on the nightstand makes me bolt upright. Grabbing it, I immediately answer when I see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Thatcher,” Hank says, sounding as tired as I feel. “Sorry to call you so late, but I have some news.”
“Lisa?” I ask, feeling my heart begin to race. She basically vanished into thin air when we left New Orleans. Sophie was the last person to see her, and she said Lisa didn’t say anything that last morning she was at my house, which isn’t surprising. Since we knew she was mixed up in some bad stuff, I didn’t try to locate her.
“I guess when she left your house, she lingered in New Orleans for a few days, making some deals. Just as the local detective was going to make an arrest, she disappeared. But yesterday, she flew back into LA and was greeted at the gate by the LAPD. They have her in custody. It’s not looking good.”
For a second, I just sit there. Not stunned. I saw this coming from a mile away. But I am feeling something—sad, disappointed, angry. But for the first time in a long time, I’m not feeling guilty.
My mother’s words from a few days ago play in my mind.
It’s not yours to carry. It wasn’t then and it definitely isn’t now. Whatever happens, you had no hand in it.
“Owen?” Hank asks, checking to make sure I’m still on the line.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“You okay?”
Letting out a deep sigh, I sit up more fully, rubbing a hand down my face. My mind immediately goes to my children, who are too young to understand all of this, and how I’m going to explain it to them.
And then I think about Sophie and how great she is with them.
Knowing I have her support is invaluable. I can’t quite put it into words how it makes me feel, but it’s good… so good I never want to let her go.
“I’m fine,” I say, clearing my throat. “Thank you for calling.”
“Of course,” he says. “And I’ll let you know what happens from here. My buddy with the LAPD will keep me in the loop and I’ll be sure to pass it on.”
“Thank you.”