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The Magic of Us

Murrtham's Tree Farm Series

The Magic of Baseball

“You are the best thing I never knew I needed.”

My brilliant idea to capture my newborn’s first Christmas with a photo shoot at a local tree farm isn’t quite as picture-perfect as the idyllic setting. The baby is fussy, my soon-to-be ex-husband leaves me to fend for myself, and the photographer’s hot assistant is the owner of the farm. Harried and frazzled, I toss the baby into his arms. Not my finest move, but I’ve earned my title of “hot mess mom.”

Turns out, West Murrtham isn’t into kids. Not even a little, and my little stunt propels me into even crazier territory. I never expect to see him again, but a few months later, he saves my hot mess self at the gas station. In return, I invite him to a baseball game because why not?

Over the next few months, we develop an odd friendship, testing out the theory if a woman and a man can be platonic friends. Like with other areas in my life, I fail at not falling for West.

But my daughter and I are a package deal. I’d be wise to remember that…

Everly Murrtham is all wrong for me. She’s seven years my junior.
Her brother is married to my sister.
She currently has a boyfriend.

I’m a “one and done” kind of guy. Except, we’ve always shared a connection, a spark I’ve never felt with anyone else, a longing for more. I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to her. It’s not because she’s off limits; I should have made my move when her brother first suggested it or at least before I lost her to someone else, even temporarily. Not like she’d ever take a chance on me anyway. She deserves someone who can give her the whole package.The problem is, the more time I spend with her, rescuing her from crazy situations, the more I think maybe that person could be me. She makes me want to be her whole world. Or is it just the magic of her that has me so entranced?

The Magic of Her

The only thing I know about her is she loves football, evidenced by the hoodie she always wears. But despite her bad taste in sports apparel—where are the Laketon Badgers even from? 

I’ve been dying to talk to her for two years. She agrees to give me ten minutes to convince her why she should date a baseball player. (I do it in three, naturally.) It starts with spiked seltzers in the park and eventually leads to ice cream. And apparently, vanilla isn’t an acceptable flavor. Seriously, could we be more different?


Walt St. John is a baseball player. That fact alone is enough for me to write him off. I know absolutely nothing about baseball; I’m a football girl through and through. However, one encounter at a party has me questioning all I think I know. The guy I get to know off the field almost makes me forget he plays the inferior sport.

As Walt works his “magic of baseball” on me, I’m left wondering if I can overcome my own emotional demons before it’s a swing and a miss.

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