Page 46 of Caught Stealing

“I don’t think you’re reading more than there is. She’s fishing. You don’t see my friends here watching practice, do you?” Koa motions around at the empty stadium.

“He makes a fair point,” Spencer says. “Have you had any moments? You know, like times you probably could have kissed her if not for the friends rule?”

“Are you reading romance novels again?” Boone asks while chewing on a piece of straw. He’s leaned against the column in the middle of the dugout with his arms crossed.

“It was not a romance novel. It was science fiction, and I can’t help there was a kissing scene.” Spencer practically growls his rebuttal while running his hand over his face.

I sigh. “Probably a few kiss set ups, but I’m not about to try it. She hasn’t given me any clear signs it would be okay, so maybe not.” I rest my foot on the bench and settle my arms across my thigh. This puts pressure on my shoulder, so I adjust and happen to glance Lottie’s way. She turns her head away quickly, but I get the distinct feeling I was being evaluated so to speak. I smirk and my friends don’t miss it.

“She was definitely checkin’ you out. Ain’t the first time either. Are you okay with how things are going?” Boone asks.

“I don’t even know what that means. How are things going? They seem to be verbally one thing, but physically another if that makes sense,” I admit.

He drawls out that deep, southern farm boy laugh that’s hearty and full. It screams tough. I like the guy, but he’s built different, that’s for sure. Like a cross between a linebacker and a tractor.

“Do you like her checkin’ you out and askin’ you to do things with her with no strings attached?”

“Sure. I guess so. I don’t really have a right to attach strings. The best I can do is show her I’m not like her ex and maybe she’ll come around.”

“Don’t look now, but Martinez has spied your girl,” Spencer says.

I expect to see him staring at her from the dugout or player entry, but nope. He’s scaling the bleachers in her direction with a big, fat smile on his face. He’s literally going to go talk to her, and he knows darn good and well she’s here with me. I clench my fists, itching to put one of them right into that jaw of his. He’s already going to take my job. I’m not about to watch him try to take Lottie, too. Try being the operative word. I already know how she feels about athletes—most at least—so the guy doesn’t have a prayer.

“Easy, Drew. Don’t go off jealous.” Koa’s warning nearly falls on deaf ears. I’m already heading out of the dugout when Lottie stands to meet Martinez. She extends her hand and beams but it’s forced and strained. I know her smiles, and this one says she’d rather be getting a lobotomy than talk to Martinez.

I’m just in earshot when Martinez accepts her handshake with a distinct lean in toward her.

“It’s not often we have beautiful women sitting in on our practices. I’m Marco Martinez. You are?” he asks.

“Charlotte Clarke, a friend of Andrew’s.”

“Ah, that’s right. Maybe he forgot to tell you, but he’s not pitching today. He can’t. Got a bad shoulder because—”

“Listen, I’m not interested in playing your game of trash talk Andrew,” Lottie says and backs away. She puts a solid three feet of space between them, but Martinez doesn’t heed the warning. He invades her space again and sits on the back of one of the seats, almost brushing his thigh against hers when he does.

“I just asked your name and tried to explain that he’s not pitching today, that’s all.” He smiles and that dimple the girls love makes an appearance. “No harm in that is there?”

“Listen, we both know what you’re doing and I’m not interested in being a pawn in your little immature game against Andrew. Have a good practice.” Lottie grabs her bag and passes Martinez, who scoffs and chuckles behind her.

“Better get your girl, Rossi. She’s a little too big for her britches.” Martinez nods toward Lottie and turns his back. Coward.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I mumble. Koa, who must have followed me up the bleachers, grips my elbow and redirects me to the exit. The rest of the team is already in position as Martinez enters the field.

“I’ll hit him with a line drive he won’t see coming. Make him wish he wasn’t on that mound. You go catch her before she storms off angry.” Koa shoves me toward the exit.

“Thanks. Make an excuse for Coach for me too?”

“Sure thing. You gotta ice that shoulder after all, right?” Koa grins and regrips his favorite bat. Martinez is about to pay big time for insulting Lottie, but I’m not going to be able to see it happen. I need to hurry and meet Lottie at the stadium exit. I’m not sure where she’ll go but I drove, so she can’t get far.

Not far from the locker room, I find her pacing in the short corridor adjacent to the main entry. “Lottie, I’m so sorry.” I jog the rest of the distance trying to gauge that scowl. I can’t tell yet if it’s directed at me or not.

Her shoulders relax and she stops pacing when I come into her space. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. He’s a class act, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “I mean, people have called him worse. He’s out for my job and we don’t mesh well. Never have, really.”

“I know. I heard all about him on a news interview. I didn’t mean to cause a commotion. Can I wait in the truck until your practice is over?” She scrunches her cute face with guilt.

“Nah, let’s go get Ginger and head back to my place. Koa’s gonna cover for me. Besides, if I go back out there right now I might punch the guy, and that won’t be good.”

---