Kia Ora...

This week has been a good one for writing...or at least the start of it was. I managed to get in several 2k+ words days which isn't something I can easily do most days. Actually, it used to be that when I did anything over 2.5k words and my hands ached something wicked the next day. Then, I found some compression gloves that weren't going to break the bank and...things have been going so much better!! It won't last forever, but it's a good fix until I finally take myself to the doctor and get them sorted.

The rental hunt continues...... nothing more I can say really.

Updates

Naomi Aoki

• Need to do some more marketing for my completed series under this name.

Mandy Greenwood

• Will need to read through Knight (Crime Lords 4) to remind myself of the story before I start writing Bishop (Crime Lords 5).
• Will need to start planning out a anthology short that will be released under this name. I know roughly what the plot of it will be, but the challenge will be keeping it to the word limit. More Information will be released closer to the time.

MJ Green

• Defrocked (House of Bolton Novella) is currently sitting at 10k words. It has been a little sidelined by Love Unpicked, but Killian and Nicoli have not been forgotten.
• Love Unpicked (House of Bolton 6) has passed the 35k mark and I'm currently working up toward two different events within the story: Connor's parent's finding out about their grandchild's existence; and the big 'Oh Shit' moment.
• I also need to start working on anthology short under this name too. It will be another Xmas themed one featuring our favourite Ghosts: Albie and Gio.

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Chapter Sixteen

“So…are you going to take the job?” Jordan asked as Mike passed him a plate to put into the dishwasher.

Mike leaned against the bench and scrubbed at his face. “I don’t know… it’s… it’s hard to describe my feelings regarding it.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to let Mike talk himself out of a job based on nothing more than fear-laden anxiety. At least not a job that his husband would be damn good at, and frankly the team needed him. Needed him still even he if was no longer leading the team from the field. That didn’t mean he was going to push Mike into making a decision faster than he was ready for either.

“Okay then let’s approach this another way.” He stood up and closed the dishwasher, not bothering to turn it on with the small amount of dishes that were inside it. Turning to face Mike, he folded his arms across his chest and pressed his hip against the bench. “If you’d retired from baseball under different circumstance… your own choice rather than being forced into it… would you have accepted the position?”

“In a heartbeat,” Mike replied, the words tumbling from his lips. “It was always the plan…to retire and shift into coaching that is.”

“Then what’s different now? Nothing about that plan needs to change.”

“Everything is different,” Mike snapped. “Would you want to become a pitching coach if you’d been forced from the field through injury…especially when that injured occurred in front of a packed stadium with thousands more watching the footage through endless replays?”

Jordan grimaced. “Well, no”—holding out his hand to stop Mike from speaking—“but then I’ve never considered becoming a coach. It’s not what I want to do ever. Once I’m done with baseball, then my time attending practices is over.”

“What? But I always thought…”

He snorted softly. “I guess it was one of things we never talked about. But yeah, I have no interest in coaching…I mean come on, I have a hard enough time with the concept of practicing as it is.”

“Yeah… true. But if not coaching then, what?”

Sighing, he unfolded his arms and scratched at his head, cheeks burning at the thought of his post-baseball dreams. Corny and sappy thoughts that he’d never chosen to share with Mike when everyone just assumed he’d shift from being a player to a coach or even to the commentary box.

“You’re not going to tell me you want to be a chef or something, are you? Because I hate to break to you…that ain’t happening.”

Jordan chuckled, a smile stretching wide across his face. He took a step closer to Mike and stood in front of his husband, hands coming to rest on Mike’s hips while pressing their foreheads together. “Kids.”

“You want to work with kids? Like be a teacher or a coach for a junior league team?”

He shook his head slightly while the grin he wore got bigger. “I’d only coach junior league if our kids wanted to play… I mean, I’m not going to force them to play baseball because fuck I can imagine the pressure to be the best would be enormous, but I’m not sure how happy I’d be if they decided on football or whatever instead.”

“Kids? Like ours?” Mike jerked back. “We never talked about… that conversation never came up… and they weren’t something I’d ever considered.”

Jordan watched Mike carefully, looking for any signs that he might be heading back into another downward anxiety-driven spiral. He’d hate to have triggered another one, but he if they were to have a future, Jordan couldn’t tip toe around Mike either afraid of what might set off the next panic attack. But there were no signs that was happening, though his husband was definitely confused and thrown by what Jordan had said.

“Yes, ours. And why would you’ve had considered it? Your life has always been about baseball.”

“But so was yours?” Mike croaked.

“Yes… and no.” Jordan sighed. “Don’t get me wrong… I love baseball, love what I’ve achieved and what I’m doing right now… but I wouldn’t have become that baseballer if I wasn’t chasing after you.”

“You wanted to be…” Mike grasped at words, at thoughts. “And do that with me?”

He nodded. “Once I’m done with baseball, there’s nothing more I want to do than to raise our kids…to take them along to the games of whatever team you’re coaching.”

“Fuck, Jordan… I never thought I wanted that, but now… I think I do.” Trembling hands reached for him and drifted across Jordan’s jaw. “But I’m not ready…definitely not ready for that, not yet.”

“I know. But that’s okay because I’m also not ready to retire either. I’ve still got a few good years of pitching ahead of me.”

Noticing that Mike’s legs were trembling as much as his hands were, Jordan led him over to the couch and pulled him back against his chest as they both sat on it. He pressed soft reassuring kisses to the top of Mike’s head while realising he’d sent his husband’s mind whirling with all the possibilities that lay ahead for them.

“So, now… about the job Coach is offering you—”

“You’re cruel man, Jordan, dangling that future in front of me.”

“You’ll take it then.”

Mike’s chest rose and fell slowly. “I won’t promise you that. But I will go in and talk to Coach…to the management team about the role and what accommodations they can make for me in the short term at least.”

“I can’t imagine it’d be an issue. Not for Coach at least. He wants you back on his team, Mike…wants you back in that bullpen. I can’t speak for management though.”

*

Kids. He’d never considered the possibility of him and Jordan having kids, raising a family of their own. Baseball had been everything to him, his singular focus…or at least it had been until Mike had realised that Jordan was no longer his best mate’s annoying little brother, but a man who he wanted to spend his days with. But even then, kids had never been factored into his life, not with the long hard days of practice and the season spent on the road as much as they were at home. And he knew there were others in the team who did have families, and that the long season of travelling to away games took its toll. Yet, he’d barely given it much attention beyond his need as captain to make sure that the rest of the team were in a mentally good place to play…to perform to their best. He’d given their situations only a perfunctory consideration…

But Jordan…

Jordan had thought about it… had considered that kids would play a huge part in his life after he’d retired from baseball. Mike had been oblivious to his husband’s dreams…or any of his plans beyond the pitcher’s mound. He’d just assumed that Jordan would follow him into coaching, that they’d work together to foster the growth of the next generation.

And in a way they would be. It just wasn’t the twenty-something baseballers that they’d be working worth…but their own kids.

Fuck… did he want kids?

He hadn’t made any promises to Jordan, just gave him a non-committal ‘I think that I do’ and yet if they were to continue down this path of repairing their marriage, it was something Mike would need to give consideration too.

“You doing okay?” Jordan asked softly, his fingers carding through Mike’s hair. “It’s okay to panic a bit… I did throw a curveball at you…regarding the whole wanting kids thing.”

Mike chuckled. “Curveball? I can catch those easy enough…can usually see when you’re going to pitch it even when I didn’t call for it.”

“Yeah… but there’s a big difference to my standing on the mound and pitching it knowing that you’re ready to catch whatever it is that leaves my hand… but this wasn’t that kind of curveball.”

“I can still handle it… might dissect it all down later and then give you my opinion. If that’s okay?” He carefully rolled onto his stomach and propping himself up to meet Jordan’s worried gaze. “But the one question I do have… is our reconciliation dependent on my wanting kids? I don’t have an opinion either way, yet.”

“Do I want kids? Yes,” Jordan replied. “But are they worth more than a relationship with you? Then no, never.”

Jordan cupped Mike’s face, fingers rasping over his stubbled jaw before angling Mike’s face to meet his. Lips melding together with a familiarity that only reminded Mike of how much he’d ached for this over the past two years. He moaned softly as Jordan shifted beneath him, their hard cocks rubbing against each other despite the layers of fabric that separated them. And it was so tempting to lie here with his husband and make out until they were both coming in their pants…something he hadn’t done since his overeager teenage years, and Mike didn’t fancy repeating.

But he was also loathed to stop.

*******

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