Page 101 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
ChapterThirty-Two
SEB
Lake House in Michigan
November 9, 2022
As I’m making my third cup of coffee, I hear the old wooden stairs start to creak. I poke my head around the corner to see Sophie’s feet—covered in my big athletic socks—inching downward.
“Good morning,” I say as the feet suddenly stop. “Be careful. Those stairs are crazy slick.”
She sits down on the stairs, grabs a banister spindle in each hand, and presses her face between them. “Why are you up so early? We didn’t get in until midnight.”
“I couldn’t sleep. You know how excited I get to be here. I’ve been up for a few hours.” I smile at her scowling face. “The sun’s about to rise. Do you want to come out on the deck and watch it with me?”
“The deck faces west. We can’t watch the sunrise from there. Come back to bed.”
“Then we can watch the lake come to life.” I walk over to the bottom of the stairs. “If you come all the way down, I’ll make you the pumpkin coffee stuff you like.”
She tilts her head as she considers my offer. “Do we have that pumpkin pie spice stuff?”
“Yep. Mom stocked the house before we got here.” I turn around and motion for her to get on my back. “Come on. I’ll carry you.”
She plods down the rest of the way, throws her arms around my neck, and lays her head on my shoulder. “Fine, but it feels like it’s cold outside. I need lots of blankets.”
“It’s not cold. It’s crisp.” I circle my arms under her legs and lift her onto my back. “And we have plenty of blankets.”
I carry her into the kitchen and set her on the counter. When I turn around, she’s looking at me through the strands of hair that have fallen over her face. I push them back and kiss her forehead. “Your morning grumpiness is cute.”
She grunts.
“You wearing my sweatpants is also cute.” I tug at the waistband. “But we can get you some of your own so you don’t have to roll the waistband down like five times.”
“Huh uh,” she says, shaking her head. The strands fall back over her face. “I like wearing yours.”
She takes the hair tie off her wrist and twists her hair into a crazy pile on top of her head.
“You should know,” I say, putting my hands on her knees and leaning down to kiss her. “When you wear your hair like that—especially when you’re wearing your glasses—it really turns me on.”
“Are there things that don’t turn you on?” she asks wrapping her legs around my waist.
“Not with you. Pretty much everything works.” I run my hands down her arms. “Do you want hot, iced, or blended?”
“Are we talking about sex or coffee?” She closes her eyes and laughs to herself. “How am I this hilarious even when I’m tired?”
“It’s one of life’s great mysteries.”
“Iced, please,” she says as I walk over to the Keurig.
“Are you sure?” I glance back at her. “That’s going to make you colder.”
She smiles. “Then you’ll just have to warm me up.”
“Challenge accepted.”
When I get done mixing her coffee, I turn around to find her curled up on the counter—almost asleep.
“Get up, sleepyhead. The fresh air will wake you up.” I grab her iced coffee and my mug. “Do you want a piggyback ride or can you walk now?”
