Swing (Landry Family #2)(76)

“Dani.”

The one word, my nickname, the one I hate but now somehow love hearing from his lips, breaks the seal. The tears trickle down faster.

“I brought your mug,” he says and I want to laugh, but I can’t. It hurts too much. His eyes land over my shoulder and then flip immediately back to mine again. “Are you okay?” The question is a whisper.

“No,” I say back.

All of a sudden, he’s taking me in differently. His pupils narrow, his green eyes darken and he steps to me. He pulls me into him and kisses the top of my head. I turn as he steps inside the house, keeping his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

“Mr. Kipling,” Lincoln says. I’ve never heard his voice this way. It’s not playful or sexy or even engaging. It’s professional. Hard. Maybe even cold. It takes me aback. “Mrs. Kipling.”

“What is this? Some kind of joke?” My father’s eyes are wide as he takes in his new centerfielder with his arm around me. I imagine he’s worried I’ll interfere in their life now if I’m somehow dating Lincoln and he’s playing for the Sails. The fury in his eyes dampens a piece of my soul.

“What is it you’d like explained?” Lincoln asked.

He clutches me tightly and I’m so thankful he’s here. Glancing at my mother, I see her dipping her chin, looking at me down her perfect, plastic-surgeon-created nose.

“Did she put you up to this?” my father snarls. Looking at me, his repugnance of me is palpable. “This was your doing, wasn’t it? Why, Ryan? Why do you have to act like such a spoiled brat? Is it attention you need? Is that what’s wrong?”

“This has nothing to do with her,” Lincoln fires back.

I look between the two of them, my head spinning. “What are you talking about?”

My father chuckles, his gaze on Lincoln. “You know you won’t get another offer like the one I gave you. We were ready to build around you, Lincoln. There were good things happening, and instead, you listened to a little girl that doesn’t know anything.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask again, drying my face with the sleeve of my shirt, much to my mother’s dismay. “Lincoln?”

He looks at me and smiles. Using the pad of his thumb, he wipes away the icing on my cheek and laughs. “You’re a mess, Dani.”

“It’s your fault,” I sniffle, wrapping my hand around his wrist and holding it so he doesn’t pull it away from my face.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He winks and I drop his hand and he turns back to my parents. “Your offer was generous, Mr. Kipling. You definitely know how to make people see how serious you are about baseball.”

“And if you were serious, we could’ve made something happen.”

“Landry?” I ask, looking up at him. I can’t fight the little blossom in my stomach that maybe something happened. But I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“I am serious, Mr. Kipling. Serious about things that matter.”

My father laughs, an angry vibe in his tone. “Don’t even tell me . . .”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play baseball,” Lincoln tells my parents. “I wanted to see my name on the back of shirts and to sign my name to pictures being held by little kids. I wanted to be the guy that hit the game-winning run in the World Series and make my dad proud of me.” He pulls me close. “I did that. All of it.”

“And you can do it all again. A number of times,” my father insists.

“I could. Yeah, you’re right. But I’ve learned there are more important things in life than contracts and batting titles.”

My heart slams in my chest and I feel tears build up in the corners of my eyes. I don’t say a word, just listen, and hope, even if I’m wrong, that he’s going to say what I think he is.

“There are seasons in life,” Lincoln continues. “I spent my entire life up to now focused on baseball. It’s been a great run. Fantastic, actually. I’ve done things and seen things most people can only dream of. But what do I have besides all that?”

“I have no idea where this is going,” my mother answers. “Or why you are here with our daughter. Or why we are even here, to be honest.”

I start to respond, but Lincoln’s squeeze stops me. Instead, he chuckles.

“No one is keeping you here.” He looks at my mother and then at my father. When they don’t move, he laughs. “I’m here with Dani because I’m in a new season of my life. Today is opening day.”

My eyes blur again and I lean my head against him. I breathe him in, all expensive cologne and male testosterone, and feel safe in the midst of my parents for the first time. For once, I don’t have to battle them. Their ferocity isn’t aimed at me. He’s protecting me and it feels better than I even imagined it would.

“The trophies in the guest bedroom don’t talk back. They don’t keep me company or warm at night. They don’t play catch and they don’t drink coffee with me in the morning.”

He looks down at me and chuckles at the smile on my face. “A mess,” he whispers, swiping at my tears. “A total mess.” I giggle as he kisses my forehead and looks back to my parents.

“You’re just like Ryan,” my father blows. “A kid born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You have no drive. No—”