Spotlight (The Holland Brothers Book 4)

“Why are there so many people here?” Ruby asks as we walk to our seats in Fletcher Stadium where the Mustangs play.

“I have no idea,” I say, stepping past people in the narrow aisle and offering apologetic smiles as they shift and move to let us pass by. “Maybe they’re here for the other team.”

It’s the first spring training game for the Mustangs, and in my grandfather’s mind, a local holiday. But in reality, these games aren’t usually this well attended. It’s die-hard locals, mostly. Or snowbirds who are here for the winter, looking for something to do.

The weather is still too cool for people to be out simply enjoying the weather, and there isn’t the same pomp and excitement of a regular season game with all the flashy things that can make coming fun all on its own. Although Mischief, the Mustangs mascot, was at the gate when we walked in and made Greer’s whole day.

As we get to our seats, I scan the field. Players are warming up. Some have bats in their hands, others are playing catch. But my attention goes to the side where a couple of pitchers are warming up. It doesn’t take long for me to pick out Flynn. My body does most of the work if I’m honest. Goosebumps rise on my arms and my stomach flutters the instant I locate his broad shoulders and bulging biceps.

Ruby and I sit. Greer stands in front of the empty seat between us, leaning against the metal fence rails that box us in. We’ve had the same seats, looking out at first base, for as long as I can remember. We have a great view of the field, something I’m infinitely more grateful for in this moment.

Flynn looks good in a baseball uniform. I mean, yes, he always looks good, but damn. I’ve not let myself really admire him since I found out who he was, but with a little distance between us and his playful smile not aimed at me, it’s impossible to deny how attracted I am to him.

“Did you hear me?” Ruby leans over from her seat.

“Sorry. What?” I blink several times and look over at my sister.

“I said, she’s a whole vibe.” She tips her head toward Greer.

“I know,” I say with a small laugh as I admire my daughter’s fashion sense. She’s dressed in a Mustangs T-shirt with a pink tutu and tiara, beaded bracelets are looped around both wrists all the way up to her elbows. Since she was able to dress herself, she’s been adamant about wearing what she wants. It caused a few fights early on when I thought I needed to make her look a certain way or wanted her to wear a cute outfit I bought for her, but parenting is nothing if not humbling. And now, I love that she has her own style.

We fall into on and off conversation as we stare out at the field during warmups. It isn’t long before the players jog to their respective dugouts.

My stomach bottoms out and I pull down the bill of my baseball cap, shielding more of my face.

“Hey.” Ruby pinches me.

“Ow.” I pull my arm back instinctively. “What was that for?”

“I’m over here talking to myself. What is up with you? And why are you so jittery?”

“I’m not.” I absolutely am. I don’t even know why. It isn’t like I came for him. We do this every year. The entire family comes to the first spring training game.

Only this year there are two empty seats.

“It’s weird without them here,” I say to Ruby, looking past my sister to the vacant chairs on the other side of her.

Our phones ping at the same time and Ruby smiles at me knowingly. I check my phone as she does the same, and yep, it’s exactly who I expected. Mom checking in from somewhere in the Caribbean with a “Go Mustangs!” and a selfie of her and dad in matching Mustangs shirts. I’ve lost track of where they are or will be next because their schedule changes so often.

Last summer they randomly decided to apply for chef positions on a cruise ship. They’re both chefs and owned a small catering business that did weddings, business luncheons, and private parties. Now they’re cooking for thousands each day as they sail around the ocean. It’s the most adventurous thing they’ve done during my whole life. I still have a hard time believing they did it.

“They’ll be back next season,” Ruby says after sliding her phone back into her front shorts pocket.

“You think? They seem happy.”

“It’s killing Mom not to be around for Greer’s school stuff. I can’t tell you how many times she texted me to be sure I recorded her music performance last week.” My sister changes her voice to a high-pitch, slightly nasal impression of our mother, “I want to see every second my grandbaby is on that stage.”

“You sound just like her.”

Ruby tosses a piece of popcorn at me.

“You do.” I sit back as Gigi comes down the aisle with lemonade for all of us. It’s better here than anywhere else in the world. I have the best memories of eating a hot dog and drinking lemonade while watching the Mustangs play. I was never a big fan of baseball but being here with my family is an experience that transcends the game.

“Is Grandpa coming?” I ask, taking my drink and settling back into my seat.

In front of us, the teams take the field.

“He’s around somewhere. Probably a last-minute maintenance issue.”

The announcer calls out the starters for the Mustangs as they run out to applause and cheers.

“Your catcher, JT Ryan.” The stadium gets loud. He’s one of the most beloved players on the team. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. He seems to be good at catching, but I think more than that it’s because he’s been with the team so long. A lot of players come and go. The Mustangs aren’t exactly known for winning so it makes sense that they move on. I imagine playing for a team that routinely loses takes a toll on you.

“And your starting pitcher, Flynn Holland!”

The applause around the stadium is even louder than it had been for JT. The people I assumed were here for the other team… now I’m thinking they’re here for Flynn.

“Ooooh. There’s your pitcher.” Ruby cups her hands around her mouth and yells for him, along with everyone else.

“He isn’t my pitcher.”

She flashes a teasing smile that makes my stomach swoop.

“What do you think the odds are that a guy you met in New York lives here? And that he’s related to your best friend’s fiancé? That’s too much coincidence to not be the tiniest bit romantic.”

I have had the same thought a thousand times. I’m not sure if I believe in fate, but I do think the universe has a sense of humor. The question is, what does it mean?

“Did you forget that he is working with Plot Twist?” I ask, deflecting. I have gotten really good at that. Not that Ruby isn’t aware of exactly what I’m doing. Sisters are the worst at calling out your bullshit.

“It must have slipped my mind after he bought my books.” Her grin lifts higher. “I love my readers.”

I can’t help but laugh and then blush when I think of him reading chapter twenty-eight.

Greer takes her seat, blocking my sister from any more annoying quips, and I go back to watching Flynn.

The announcer is talking about the batter, and his walkout music plays, but my gaze doesn’t leave the pitcher’s mound.

Flynn looks focused and a little intense. On the mound, he seems bigger somehow. He drags his right foot along the ground then digs his toe in. He stares down, but his mouth moves almost as if he’s talking to himself. When he finally looks up, I can practically feel the calm that’s washed over him. He pushes his shoulders back and turns to the side.

I hold my breath as he winds up and throws the first pitch. I watch him even after the ball leaves his hand. For a moment, it feels like everything stops and the only sound is the ball sailing through the air.

“Striiiike,” the umpire calls out, and the crowd claps.

Flynn’s expression doesn’t change as JT throws the ball back to him. My body is tense, like I’m the one out there as I watch him do it again and again. I lose track of the number of pitches, and I barely see the batters. It isn’t until he’s jogging off the mound that I realize they’ve managed to get three outs.

“Impressive.” Ruby turns and stares at me over Greer’s head. She raises her voice so I can hear her over the applause around us.

“What?”

“He didn’t let a single batter on base,” she says like duh, weren’t you watching?

“Really?” I glance back to the field as Flynn is getting to the dugout. A few players tip their head to him as he makes his way to the bench.

My sister’s only response is to laugh at my surprise, and possibly my inability to look away from Flynn.

The innings pass with more of the same. While the Mustangs are up to bat, I’m willing them to hurry up so Flynn will run back out onto the field. And when he’s out there, I can’t look away.

Gigi and Ruby are talking about some book tour Ruby’s publisher wants to send her on; meanwhile, Greer is playing happily with her stuffed pink rabbit. She chatters quietly. I only hear enough to know she’s explaining to Bunny about the game and using words she must have picked up from Grandpa or the announcers. “Wooowee, that was a beautiful slider,” she says as Flynn throws another pitch.

I bite back a smile and turn my attention to the man on the mound. JT tosses the ball back to him. Flynn catches it in his glove and then grabs it with his right hand. His fingers move over it as he gets back into position.

He takes his time, adjusting his hat and wiping his brow, even looking out at the crowd for a beat before he gets into the familiar pitcher stance.

Anticipation thrums under my skin as I watch him.

Flynn stares down the batter. His hair curls up around the back of his blue hat, broad shoulders and muscular arms fill out the jersey. He’s tall and imposing in his uniform and his usually playful, boyish smile is gone.

He shakes off two signals before nodding at JT. He does that thing pitchers do, checking the bases. There’s a runner on first and he takes two sidesteps toward second. Flynn looks away from him and then quickly back, firing the ball to the first baseman. The runner barely gets back in time.

“Safe.” The umpire makes the signal, and the ball is thrown back to Flynn.

I lean forward in my seat as he gets set again. A shiver rolls through me as he goes through his whole routine. The more I watch, the more turned on I get. Who knew baseball was so sexy?

I can’t tell a good pitch from a bad one, but I know he’s throwing fast and hard based on the way the crowd reacts. When Flynn fires another pitch to JT, an older gentleman in front of me takes off his hat and fans himself with it.

Chuckling, he says, “That kid’s got some arm on him.”

The man next to him agrees with a nod.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Greer says to me, drawing my attention away from Flynn and the game.

“Can you wait until the inning is over?” I ask her. I’ve started tracking and I know the count is full and there are two outs.

“I’ll take you. I want to get a hot dog or maybe nachos,” Ruby says, standing and holding out her hand to Greer.

She flashes me a smug knowing grin. “Need anything? An ice water maybe?”

“No, thank you,” I say pointedly, but I can’t help let a small smile slip. Sisters are somehow the best and worst at the same time.

Gigi moves down to sit beside me after they’re gone. She studies me for a moment. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed, honey.”

“Must be the heat.” I train my gaze back to the pitcher’s mound.

“The heat?” She scoffs. Rightfully so since I haven’t taken my sweatshirt off. “Are you sure it isn’t that cutie pitcher you’ve been staring at for four innings?”

My jaw drops and I give her my full attention, as if that could prove her wrong. “I was not.”

She laughs, probably at the high-pitched squeak of my voice – a dead giveaway I’m lying.

“He’s cute. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

The tension leaves me, and I laugh with her.

“Want me to ask your grandpa to introduce you?”

“Definitely not.” I shake my head as a new kind of panic washes over me. The last thing I need is my grandfather talking to Flynn about me. What would Flynn think about me if he knew my grandparents are trying to set me up? He’d think it was hilarious probably.

“Fine. Fine. We’ll just keep staring at him then. Maybe he’ll look over here and notice you in this big crowd of people.”

The way she says it I know she thinks that’s impossible, but that’s only because she doesn’t know Flynn. I wouldn’t put anything past him. I slump down in my seat an inch instinctively and she laughs again.

When Ruby and Greer return, Gigi moves back down to her seat.

I lean over Greer to my sister. “Did you tell Gigi about Flynn?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“She said he was cute and accused me of staring at him.”

“He is cute, and you have been staring at him.” She stares at me, daring me to argue either point as she takes a bite of her hot dog.

I use my middle finger to scratch the side of my nose.

“So mature.” Ruby laughs and then I can’t help but join in.

Grandpa finally joins us at the bottom of the sixth inning.

“Hi.” I stand and hug him. He’s beaming underneath his familiar Mustangs hat. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

“Ran into some snags with the plumbing in one of the locker rooms,” he says.

“Eww.” Ruby makes a face but then smiles as she steps up to hug him next.

Greer bounces impatiently waiting her turn. He scoops her up and drops a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“How are they looking?” he asks Greer.

“Great!” she exclaims, pushing both hands into the air and making us all laugh.

Grandpa sits in Greer’s seat next to me with her on his lap.

“Have you been able to see any of the game?” I ask him. There are a lot of TVs up around the stadium, so it’s possible he was able to watch while he was working.

“No, but I heard our new pitcher is having a good day.”

“He is,” I say, feeling a hint of pride for him.

“So good that Olivia can barely look away. You might make a baseball fan out of one of us yet,” Ruby says from the other side of him.

I shoot her a murderous look and then smile at Grandpa. “Flynn is Sabrina’s fiancé’s brother, remember?”

“That’s right.” He nods. “Are Sabrina and his brothers here?”

Greer moves to stand again, and Grandpa crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair.

“I don’t think so. Sabrina didn’t mention it.”

Grandpa nods. “Seems like a good kid. A lot of pressure on him this season.”

“Why’s that?”

He takes his time answering like he’s mulling over his thoughts. “A lot of people think he was brought up too soon, that he isn’t ready for this level of baseball, and his performance against Kansas City proved that.”

My brows knit together in confusion. That seems harsh.

“What do you think?” I ask.

One side of his mouth lifts in that familiar smile of his. “I think our team needs someone who has as much to prove as he does.”

I glance back out to the field. Flynn stands in the dugout with his profile to me. He takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair, then looks in my direction. I freeze, but his stare moves quickly, and then I feel silly for thinking he could pick me out of a crowd at this distance.

Grandpa leaves us as soon as the game is over. The Mustangs won, five to two, and there seems to be a hopeful feeling in the air for fans.

I lose sight of Flynn as people stand around us and start to leave. I have the strangest urge to tell him that he pitched a good game. I’m sure he has lots of people already patting his back and telling him how great he is. And who knows, maybe I’ll see him around again soon.

“Can we get another lemonade?” Greer asks. She looks tired. She rarely naps anymore, but I have a hunch she’s going to fall asleep as soon as we get in the car.

“No, but we can make some cookies later after dinner,” I say.

She gives me an only half-appeased shrug. Gigi is going to sit and wait for Grandpa to be done, so I hug her.

“I’ll see you Monday morning,” I say as she wraps her arms around me, and I breathe in her familiar floral scent.

She hugs Greer next, then Ruby.

I have my back to the field and the seats around us are mostly emptied when a familiar, cocky voice sounds behind me.

“Enjoy the game?”

I jump and let out a squeak as I whip around to see Flynn standing on the other side of the metal fence. A few people are walking around him, giving him curious looks. One girl snaps a photo of him. It’s hard to blame her. He’s even better looking in that uniform up close.

I swallow thickly and ignore the way my pulse has sped up in his presence. “I did.”

His responding smile is all charm and ego.

I glance around. “How did you find me?”

“I put a tracker on you,” he deadpans to which I glare playfully.

Chuckling, he says, “I looked up from the pitcher’s mound and there you were.”

My brows lift. “Just like that?”

He shrugs.

I feel Greer press into my side and Flynn’s gaze slides over to her, then to me, and back. His expression softens as he says, “You must be Greer.”

I drop a reassuring hand to her shoulder and open my mouth to encourage her to say hello, but to my surprise she beats me to it.

“You’re Uncle Archer’s brother,” she says confidently.

Flynn nods. “That’s right. I’m Flynn. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

And then he signs to her, something I don’t follow but Greer does.

Her grin widens and she signs back. It’s such a small thing, but my heart squeezes in my chest as I watch my daughter interact with Flynn so easily. Even with Archer and Brogan it took a little time before she warmed up to them.

“Well, if that isn’t the cutest freaking thing,” Ruby mutters quietly. I didn’t even see her step up beside me.

I elbow her, hoping to silence her. It doesn’t work.

“All I’m saying is, if I were writing this, my heroine would be swooning about now.”

“I don’t swoon,” I say.

“Liar.”

When Flynn and Greer are done signing with each other, he glances up and smiles at Ruby.

“Good to see you again. I enjoyed your books. Your characters are hilarious and that twist at the end of Love Bites? Never saw it coming.”

“Thank you.” My sister beams.

She leans over to whisper to me, “Swoooon.”

Before I can reply, she stands tall again and says louder to Flynn, “Come back to the store and I’ll let Olivia sell you some more.”

“I’ll do that.” His stare finally moves over to Gigi, and he tips his head, expression going a tad more serious.

“I didn’t realize my granddaughters knew the new pitcher,” Gigi says to him, then looks to me for an explanation.

“Flynn, this is my grandmother, Gloria.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says to her.

“You too,” Gigi replies.

“He came into the store last week,” I tell her before Ruby or Flynn gets any ideas to share more. I know Gigi and Ruby would have us mentally engaged with a dozen babies if she knew the whole story.

“A book lover?” she asks and then smirks at me. Who was I kidding? She’s going to picture us living happily ever after no matter what I say or do.

“He’s working with Plot Twist,” I say.

“Ah.” Her expression goes serious, and she nods with understanding.

Flynn offers a sheepish smile. “That’s true. And honestly, I’ve never been a huge reader, but I liked your store. It was…charming.”

“It’s all Olivia’s doing,” Gigi praises me. “Since she took over running the store, we’ve been runner-up for best bookstore twice.”

It’s so obvious what she’s doing and my cheeks flush.

“Is that right?” Flynn beams at me. “In that case, you should let me take you out to celebrate.”

“You want to celebrate the store being runner-up?” I quirk a brow.

“Sure. It sounds like a big deal.”

A laugh bubbles up and slips out. “If you had lost today, would you want to celebrate it?”

“With you? Probably.” His eyes still twinkle, but his smile falls a fraction.

Before he can ask me again, because I have a feeling he will, I say, “Greer and I need to get home.”

“All right.” He looks at my daughter and signs something to her.

She signs right back and my heart squeezes.noveldrama

“You look like Uncle Archer,” she says as she slips her hand into mine.

“Really?” Flynn asks. “Are you sure I’m not more handsome?”

He winks at her and Greer giggles sweetly.

Flynn pushes back from the fence and waves to Gigi and Ruby, who wave right back very enthusiastically.

He then walks backward away from us.

“What are you doing? You should absolutely go out with him,” Ruby hisses.

“I’m not dating right now.”

Gigi makes a noise that I’m pretty sure is a disbelieving huff.

We start to walk down the aisle to leave, but something makes me turn back.

I lean over the railing to call at him, “Flynn!”

He stops and glances back over his shoulder.

“You pitched a great game today.”

His lips curve up as he flashes me that charming smile that I feel everywhere. “What was that?”

“I said, you⁠—”

I stop when he starts chuckling. He totally heard me and just wanted me to yell it again. I shake my head at him, and he winks at me just like he had Greer before he turns away.