He was sweating against her back, out of breath and had never felt anything so good.

She lifted up and leaned against him. “I’m going to need a quick shower now.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They both jumped in the shower and did a quick rinse off. He got dressed, then got out of Katrina’s way and headed downstairs.

“What is she doing up there?” Anya asked. “It usually takes me twice as long as her to get ready.”

Grant just shrugged. “No idea. I think she might have changed her mind about what she was wearing. Or … wait. I think she said something about hopping in the shower.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

She went back to scrolling through her phone, so he figured they had managed to skate by without the kids figuring out what had happened upstairs. Or maybe the kids were smarter than he gave them credit for and they simply didn’t care.

Either way, Katrina came downstairs a short time later, looking gorgeous in her new black capri pants that hugged her curves. She wore a hot pink tank and tennis shoes and looked absolutely edible.

How could a woman dressed so casually look so damn sexy? He wanted to undress her and lick every inch of her.

He filed that thought away for later.

They drove to the ballpark and made their way to the ticket window, where, thanks to his brother, tickets were waiting. He’d texted Tucker yesterday after he’d gotten the idea to take Katrina and the kids to the ball game.

That had been a fun conversation.

I need four tickets to tomorrow night’s game.

Tucker had texted him back with: Asshole. Next time give me more notice when you want four seats. You’ll be lucky if I can get you bleachers. We’re popular, ya know.

Grant had texted back with: But you can get me box seats anyway, right?

Tucker had ignored him for about an hour, then texted back with: Probably. And fuck you.

Grant grinned when he opened the envelope with his name on it and found four box seat tickets.

Because that’s what the brothers did for each other. They gave each other shit, then they pulled through when necessary.

They went through the gates and Grant led them through the crowd and up to the stands.

“Wow,” Leo said as they found their place. “These are great seats.”

They were along the first-base line with an excellent view.

“Tucker’s having a good season,” Leo said, reviewing his brother’s stats on his phone. “He’s twelve and three so far on the season, with a two point three earned run average. He’s also got over a hundred strikeouts. He’s like a beast out there.”

Grant smirked. “Yeah, he’s doing good.”

And then Leo proceeded to lean across him and explain to Kat what all that meant.

She listened intently and nodded, and he had to give her credit for at least appearing to act interested.

“So Tucker’s a pitcher,” she said after Leo focused himself elsewhere.

“Yes.”

“And the rest of your brothers play football?”

“Yeah.”

“So why did Tucker decide on baseball?”

Grant leaned back in the seat. “We’re not sure if it was because he loved this game more than football, or if he did it just to piss off Barrett.”

At Katrina’s curious stare, he said, “Barrett and Tucker are twins. Barrett plays safety—that’s defense—for the Tampa Hawks. He’s one mean, tough, sonofabitch and I’ve never known anyone who loved football more than Barrett.”

“More than you?” she asked.

Grant laughed. “Yeah, probably. Though I think my dad loves football more than all of us.”

“So was your dad upset when Tucker decided to play baseball?” Leo asked.

“Not at all. Dad just wanted us all to do what made us happy. The fact that all of us ended up in sports was a bonus. He would have been just as happy if we’d been accountants. He didn’t care.”

Katrina focused her gaze on the pitcher’s mound, where Grant’s brother, Tucker, was taking warm-ups.

He was tall, like Grant, and had dark hair he wore a little long. But he also wore black glasses, which Katrina had to admit didn’t detract from his attractiveness at all, at least not from what she could tell from this distance. And the pitches he threw were fast. Like, wow fast.

“Did you ever play baseball?” she asked Grant.

He nodded. “I played Little League when I was a kid. By the time I got to high school, I realized I wanted to focus on football. That’s when Tucker moved strictly to baseball. He got a scholarship to play ball at Oklahoma.”

“So he’s really good.”

“Yeah, he’s really good.”

“He’s not only a good pitcher, he can hit, too,” Leo said, still apparently studying his stats. “He’s hitting three twenty-nine with runners in scoring position.”

“Impressive.” She didn’t know all that much about baseball, but she did watch it some when Leo was catching the games on TV. And she liked statistics, so when he’d talk about hitting percentages and averages, she paid attention. They’d discuss the players, who was good and who was struggling at bat.

As a result she knew hitting three twenty-nine was amazing. Okay, maybe she knew a little more about baseball than she’d thought.

“Who’s hungry?” Grant asked. “Hot dogs and beer? Soda for you kids, of course.”