Real Fake Love (Copper Valley Fireballs #2)(96)

And now I’m smiling again.

Life with Henri is amazing.

“Yep,” Nonna says. “Laughed my tuckus off, because I knew.”

“I like you, Irene, but you’re being annoying,” Mom tells her.

“That’s not nice,” Jerry chides Nonna, then shrinks as Nonna eyes him.

And that’s why Henri and I keep looking at real estate in the country.

So we can build the Mom-and-Nonna Homance house on the far, far edge of a large goat farm.

Plus, lots of land to bury Jerry if he breaks my mom’s heart.

And I’m adding an extension to my house in my original Copper Valley neighborhood, because Elsa and her kids aren’t moving back to California, and if Henri wants to help her sister get back on her feet, then that’s what I’ll help Henri do.

“One last thing before we meet our new mascot,” Lila says. “All of Copper Valley owes a special thank you to Mackenzie Montana-Elliott, who is, without a doubt, our biggest cheerleader. We had hundreds of write-in votes for a Mackenzie mascot, but we could never replace her for being exactly who she is, bad aim and everything.”

“Ohmygosh, that’s amazing,” Henri says as the entire ballpark erupts in cheers and whistles for Mackenzie, who bursts into the tears she’s been holding back, turns, and buries her face in Brooks’s chest.

He flashes Lila a thumbs-up.

And we all keep cheering, because Mackenzie’s earned it.

Lila waits until the noise has almost died down, and then she signals someone in the visitors’ dugout.

Appropriate, considering Firequacker became a contender when a real duck attacked her there not long after she took possession of the team.

Long story.

Spike the Echidna emerges, followed by Meaty the Meatball, then Glow—shudder—and finally, the duck himself.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it was a hard-fought battle this year,” Lila says. “Firequacker, you will forever hold a special place in my heart because of the inspiration for your existence. Spike, we’re so proud of you for introducing so many people to your namesake from Australia, and we’re also proud to announce that the Copper Valley Zoo will be adding an echidna display next spring for further education. Meaty, you’ve brought us hours and hours of joy with your travels and exploits. And Glow, we’ve been so pleased to feature a mascot of such high character who stands for the belief that everyone is valuable, no matter the number of arms they have or the size of their pants.”

“Ohmygod, is she picking all of them?” Mackenzie moans. “She is, isn’t she? I can’t take this for another year.”

“You won’t be alone,” Henri assures her. “We’ve got your back. And I haven’t even begun to put all my good brain cells to use on this problem.”

How could I not love this woman?

She’s unstoppable.

Lila eyeballs us again like she knows exactly what we’re thinking, takes a deep breath, and then it happens.

A slow gasp rolls through the entire ballpark.

The hairs on my arms stand up on end, and I can feel Henri’s arms sprouting goosebumps too.

She goes up on tiptoe as it becomes obvious people in the stands are pointing to the outfield.

But to where?

The bullpen entrance? The stands?

“Fiery?” Mackenzie gasps.

“I can’t see.” Henri’s twisting this way and that. So are Mom and Nonna and Jerry in front of her.

I yank Jerry’s collar and make him stand behind us.

“Right. Sorry. Sorry, Luca. Sorry, Henri,” he mutters.

“No way!” Francisco yells from the first baseline.

Marisol shrieks and turns to leap into Emilio’s arms, but not before flashing us the biggest thumbs-up.

Lila’s smiling so brightly, she’s making me nervous.

“Mascots,” she says, “it’s been a pleasure having you at Duggan Field this year, but it turns out, Fiery had one last surprise he hadn’t told us about before his announced retirement.”

The scoreboard screen flickers to life, and—

“Is that an egg?” Mom asks.

Holy shit.

It is.

It’s a giant egg, scaly and orange, and it’s leaping up and down.

“What? All this fuss about mascots and they’re going to bring in a chicken at the last minute?” Nonna shrieks.

We all ignore her, because it’s obvious what’s going on.

“Ohmygosh, baby dragon,” Henri whispers.

“Baby dragon,” Mackenzie echoes.

“Baby dragon,” the crowd murmurs.

The shell breaks free, and a small, chubby, adorable baby version of Fiery bursts forth at the same time that the doors to the bullpen in the outfield open fully, revealing what half the crowd has apparently already glimpsed.

A baby dragon, racing in from the outfield.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Copper Valley,” Lila says, “meet Fiery’s daughter, Ash, the official new mascot of the Fireballs.”

“Luca. Luca. Can we get a baby dragon? Please?” Henri turns, and her eyes are leaking again, but hell, so are mine.

Hard not to when Mackenzie’s sobbing next to us. “Baby dragon! Ohmygod, baby dragon!”

Ash starts her victory lap by sticking her fingers in her ears and wiggling them at the other mascots, then trots to first base for high fives and fist bumps from the entire Fireballs family.