Page 45 of My First and Only Crush

I can’t even hide how proud I sound. I don’t want to.

She gives me the most incredible look. “You’re already that,” she says, and her voice catches. “Oh God, I can’t cry. My eyes will be red for hours.”

I’m not going to tell her that she looks like she’s been fucked by a possessed bull, and red-rimmed eyes are the least of her worries. Not a single man out there is going to say a word about her looking freshly claimed, not even her father.

And by the time we land, I’ll be ready to do it all over again.

CHAPTER18

SINCLAIRE

The parade staging ground is a parking lot. There are trucks and flatbeds and a fire engine. There are marching bands and dance troupes.

Trick is riding a horse. In his baseball uniform, with the same cowboy hat he was wearing that first day we saw each other, and he looks good enough to eat.

But since tens of thousands of people showed up to see him—families especially—I’m going to have to keep that instinct on lock until we leave for Wyoming later today.

He pulls up beside the pickup truck I’m riding in the passenger seat of. “All right, cowgirl, give me a kiss for good luck.”

I lean out of the window and press my lips against his. “Love you,” I say breathlessly. “Come back and find me any time you need more beads to throw to the fans.”

He tips his hat at me. “Yes ma’am.”

My cheeks are flaming.

From the driver’s seat, the nice older lady who volunteered her truck for the parade gives me a knowing look. “That one is real sweet on you.”

“Mm-hmm,” I admit. “It’s mutual.”

“Is he going to play next year?”

I give a noncommittal answer. That’s not my story to share. Trick will make his retirement announcement in good time.

And he’ll be back to celebrate with the fans again. Next spring, there will be a World Series ring presentation.

He’s not going to sell his house down here. If we have kids, we’ll want them to spend time with their grandpa.

But tonight? Tonight that cowboy is taking me home to his ranch, high in the hills above Wildflower Hollow.

And I can’t wait.

* * *

It takes two hours for the parade to wind its way to the stadium. There’s a stage set up outside, with some VIP bleacher seating and a huge open area for a crowd that has followed us from along the parade route.

When we get there, Trick hands his horse off to an attendant from the horse farm, and then he grabs my hand. “Come on.”

“Don’t you have to?—”

“It’s going to take them a few minutes to get organized, and I want you somewhere safe.”

I don’t argue. I let him pull me up an external stairwell that is opened by a key fob he had in his pocket. He stops just inside to give me a good, hard kiss before dragging me up two levels. We emerge into a hallway I’ve never been in, part of the team’s offices.

And one of those offices has a window that opens, and looks down right at the stage.

“Wait here for me.”

From below us, someone turns a mic on and says, “Welcome to the World Series Championship celebration!”

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