Page 58 of Embers in the Outfield

A few hours later, the guys are doing a good job keeping my mind occupied and my phone out of my hand. Let’s just say, that after my second beer, my confidence level in winning Kennedy back was growing. The guys kept telling me it was the beer talking, and at one point, Clay took it upon himself to hold onto my phone.

We stopped at our local bar calledJenson’s. We’ve spent many hours on our nights off at this place in the past, and it’s our go-to when we feel like hanging out together after our shift. The bartender, Tommy, is a retired firefighter who left our station after he injured his knee. He thought this was the closest he could feel to the firehouse after leaving his brothers behind.

He tends bar and lets us stay as long as we want. It feels like an extension of the station, and that’s exactly what he washoping to do with a place like this. I look around and take in the exposed brick, along with old photos from his time in uniform, along with other paraphernalia that pertains to his time as a fireman.

“Feeling any better?” Clay whispers in my direction while the guys are in the middle of another conversation aboutLove is Blind. It’s funny to watch these big guys who run toward danger one minute, while the next, they argue about who ended up with who after the season ends.

“Not sure if I feel better, but I’m not feeling as anxious. I just want to see her and tell her I was an idiot.”

“You’re not wrong there. I remember when—” Right then, his eyes move toward the door, and his face goes pale. At first, I think by some cosmic fate, Kennedy walked through the door, but the moment I turn my head, the reason for my brother’s stunned expression makes more sense.

Even the guys at the table stop their chatter as they take in the person, or shall I say people, who just walked into the bar.

I take in what’s unfolding in front of me. Abby is standing there, my ex-sister-in-law, much to my bewilderment, with what looks to be a date. I’ve seen him before, yet I can’t place where.

What the hell is she doing back in town? I thought she had moved back to California. I’m about to ask my brother, but Rios pipes up with questions of his own.

“Is that Malloy with your girl, Clay?” Rios asks, and right then, I see my brother stand up, and a rigidity takes over his body that I’ve never seen in him. He’s about to move toward them, but I stop him, my hand on his shoulder, hoping to keep this from escalating.

I see the tick of his jaw as his eyes lock in on Abby. I see she’s uncomfortable as she moves through the bar. You’ve got to be dumb and blind not to know who she is and who her ex-husband is. Malloy is asking for trouble.

Tucker Malloy is a firefighter from Dover, about twenty miles away. We’ve run into him in random trainings and some of the memorials throughout the years. He’s standing there, smug and smiling as if his girl at his side is just that—his.

The moment Abby and her date make it close enough, I see her stunned expression, as if our presence in the bar is a surprise to her. She should have known this would blow up in her face.

I’ve always liked Abby, so seeing her do such a hurtful thing, especially to my brother, is below the belt. I know they’ve gone through some difficult times, but this feels like a huge betrayal. It’s hard to keep an open mind when all I see is her pushing the knife a little deeper.

Through gritted teeth, my brother jumps straight to the point. “What are you doing here with my wife, Malloy?”

The moment he refers to Abby as his wife, I can hear her gasp in surprise.

“Last I checked, she no longer wears your ring on her finger.” Malloy pushes back, and that does it.

My brother begins to move closer, but Tommy makes his way over from behind the bar, ready to intervene where needed.

“Hey, Abby, why don’t you and your date head somewhere else. Let’s not cause any trouble right now, yeah?” Abby looks over at Tommy who won’t take his eyes off Malloy, concerned a fight might break out in his bar.

She gives a slight nod, then moves her attention to Malloy, her hand rubbing his forearm, and I swear I see my brother grinding his molars from the tightness in his jaw. His eyes won’t leave their connection, and I know for a fact his heart is breaking even more than either of us thought possible.

Her voice is just above a whisper. “I told you this wasn’t a good spot. Let’s grab some ice cream at that place we just passed.” I can tell she’s pleading with Malloy to accept her offer, pain etched in her expression.

My brother’s breaths are short and labored as I see his nostrils flare and his skin redden from his anger nearly bubbling over.

“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you listen to her,” I say, hoping to diffuse the ticking time bomb that is this entire fucked up situation.

Malloy stares at my brother a few more beats, then turns away, agreeing to leave. He grabs Abby’s hand, and my brother’s eyes dart to where they’re joined once again.

Abby looks at me, then my brother, and mouths, I’m sorry. I want to believe her, but a part of me can’t help but feel the same betrayal my twin is feeling right now. She was once my family, someone I laughed with and loved like an actual sister. Seeing her cause this kind of pain to the one person who is an extension of me is gutting me, so I can’t imagine my brother doesn’t feel it tenfold.

Clay watches them stride out of the bar, and I know she’s walking out with yet another piece of his heart. Any calm we were feeling prior has vanished, and the tension in the entire place feels suffocating. My brother sits back in his seat, but his demeanor is completely different. I see his spine straighten and his face harden. His mood is somber and the opposite of the free-loving guy he once was, living the dream with the woman he once loved. I guess, from his reaction, that love remains strong.

We grab one more round of beers, letting another hour pass, when Rios picks up his phone, a whispered fuck falling off his lips. I think nothing of it until his eyes fall on me, and my skin stands at attention.

“Dude, it’s not your night either. I’m so sorry,” he says, then turns his phone to face me. My brain takes a moment to connect the dots, but then I realize it’s a picture of Kennedy staring back at me. At first, I’m confused, unsure how he got a photo of her.It’s only when I pull my gaze off her beautiful face that I see he’s on a dating app.

“What the fuck is that?” I stand, livid for the second time in a short span of time.

“It’s a dating app. I just started using it. I swear, I wasn’t seeking her. It matched us. It’s her, right?” He seems hopeful that I’ll tell him it’s just a doppelgänger, but that’s Kennedy. I know for certain because I took that photo at the gender reveal party not long ago.

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