Page 126 of Baseball and Shifters

For our team.

For each other.

But mostly?

Forher.

The Ashford estate always looks like something out of a storybook, but tonight? Tonight it’s magical.

Fairy lights crisscross the garden, casting a warm glow over the lawn. A soft breeze carries the scent of fresh-cut flowers, and the enchanted speakers play a steady stream of music that somehow perfectly matches the vibe at any given moment. Laughter echoes from the dessert table while fireflies hover like sparks in the air.

It’s perfect.

Aubree’s party is in full swing. Rachel is on the dance floor, barefoot, with Maya and Dallas. They’re all still wearing their custom jerseys, now tied into cute crop tops.Their cheeks are flushed from dancing and their laughter carries through the garden like a song.

A couple of guys from the team stand around the punch table and one of them pulls out a flask. I cross the garden to intercept him but my dad gets there first. He confiscates the flask and sends the guys back to the party wearing bashful looks.

The party winds on, filled with dancing and cake and enough food to feed an army of starving men. When the last of the guestsleave for the night those of us left over make our way to the small bonfire and take seats around it.

My mom and dad take the bench and Aubree, Dallas and Maya fill the three seats beside it. Once the guys and I have settled in our seats, Rachel saunters over and plops herself down in my lap, nuzzling into my neck.

Without a second thought, I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on top of her head. She smells like cupcakes and summer and home. Her fingers twist in the hem of my shirt as the fire crackles and pops.

Mom sips from a fresh glass of wine, her gaze focused on the flames. She looks thoughtful. Quiet, but not withdrawn. Watching her is like watching a storm build. Calm on the surface, but something deeper is always brewing.

“I do love a good bonfire,” she says after a long moment, voice smooth and unhurried. “They make it easier to see the truth.”

Maya perks up, half-laughing. “What, like firelight exposes secrets?”

Mom tilts her head. “No. Fire burns away the noise. Makes it easier to hear the things you already know.”

Dallas shifts in her seat. “That’s either really wise or really creepy. Possibly both.”

Mom smiles. “You four have something in common.”

Aubree raises a brow. “A devastating sense of style?”

“Trouble,” Maya suggests. “We attract it.”

Rachel giggles into my neck, but mom just hums, like she’s letting them talk it out before delivering her strike.

“You each have four fated mates,” she says, casually enough that for a second it doesn’t register.

And then it does.

“I’m sorry, what?” Dallas says, sitting up straighter.

“Like… four potential mates? Or like… fated-fated?” Maya asks.

Aubree chokes on air. “That’s too many. That’s... no. That’s a sitcom, not a love life.”

Mom chuckles. “Fate doesn’t make mistakes. You all have four beautiful shimmering bonds, not formed fully yet, but definitely fated. I know it the same way I knew those four boys would be connected.”

Dallas lets out a slow breath. “Four mates. Like, plural. Like one man, times four. That sounds like chaos.”

“Or destiny,” Mom counters. “Though the two are often the same thing.”

She looks at each of them, her tone softening like a breeze before the tide turns.

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