Page 10 of Karma's Kiss

I grunt at her exaggeration. “Savior? Yeah right.” I nod toward the field. “What’s with the other team?”

She blocks the sunlight with her hand as she glances over. “Oh yeah. They’re a bit…much. Most of the teams we play keep it casual—”

“JENKINS, DON’T LET THOSE GROUNDERS GET PAST YOU!” their team captain explodes with fury.

“—and then there’s Cedar Valley,” she finishes with an apologetic smile. “But it’s fun!”

She wraps me up in a hug and tells me how glad she is that I’m here for the summer. I love my sister-in-law. We’ve always gotten along well, though our relationship still leans more toward acquaintances than sisters, but it’s been hard with us being in different states. Before she and David had Cruz, we’d try to set up couples’ trips every so often, but I had to twist Matthew’s arm to get him to agree to them, and he and David never really settled into the friendship I’d wanted for them.

I guess none of that matters now.

My brother comes up behind me and slings his arm over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, this will be more embarrassing for me than it will be for you.”

I shove his arm off. “Oh thanks. That’s helpful.”

Lindsey scowls at him.

He drops an old baseball glove in my hand and I slip it on to see if it even fits. The leather’s so worn it feels like butter. Then he asks, “When’s the last time you put on a glove?”

“I dunno. Sixth grade?”

He winces like he was hoping I’d secretly been honing my baseball skills on the side for the last decade. “Okay. You remember the basics? Like what’s that position called?” He points to the guy on the mound who happens to beSawyer. “Come on, you got it. It starts with a p-p-p.”

I hold up my gloved hand. “You can’t see, but I’m flipping you off.”

“Nice. Real ladylike.”

“Leave her alone, David,” Lindsey chides before taking my arm. “C’mon, Madison, I’ll show you the only thing thatreallymatters. I’ve got a pitcher full of margaritas hidden in the dugout!”

“Don’t get her drunk before she’s even warmed up!” my brother calls after us. “Game starts in ten minutes!”

“Is Cruz here?” I ask as we walk off. I love my nephew. He has adorable chubby cheeks and a smile that makes me melt. I hope I have a little boy just like him someday.

“I dropped him with Queenie. She’s taking him to the park, but the plan is for them to come watch the end of the game so she can buy him one of everything from the concession stand.”

I grin. “That’s my boy.”

By the time we make it over to the dugout, the rest of our team has come in off the field. At this crucial moment, the other team is running through a ten-part pregame strategy. Meanwhile, our guys are shotgunning beers.

Pam and Jimmy O’Neal wave to me and Hunter grins from where he’s bent over, wiping beer off his mouth. There’s also Lee—Hunter’s uncle—and his wife Tammy. The brunette woman in the corner getting water isn’t immediately recognizable, though to be fair it’s been a while since I’ve been in town.

“Who’s that?” I ask Lindsey quietly enough.

“Oh, Charlotte. Moved here about two years back for a job at the elementary school.”

When she straightens up, I see she’s bedazzled the front of her tight t-shirt with glitter iron-on letters spelling out H-E-A-T-W-A-V-E. Her hair is meticulously arranged in two bubble braids. Her water bottle is adorned with stickers that say YOU CAN DO IT and DON’T MAKE ME USE MY RED PEN and IT’S A TEACHER THING.

Lindsey sees me assessing her and smiles a knowing smile. “She’s nice.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

She bumps my hip with hers. “You didn’t have to.”

Charlotte tightens her braids and heads over to Sawyer with a determined look. He’s leaning against the dugout door, writing something on a clipboard when he glances up and smiles at her. I’m sure her stomach is doing the exact same thing mine is: a diabolical little squeeze. Truly, it’s unbearable to look at him like this. His jaw is clean-shaven and chiseled (rude!), his red t-shirt stretches nicely over his broad shoulders (not fair!), and he’s turned his baseball cap backward (criminal!).

He says something to Charlotte I can’t make out and then his gaze cuts over her head as he spots me. Whatever simple tug I felt when he smiled at Charlotte is nothing compared to this. No one—not even Matthew—has ever had this kind of effect on me. I wonder if it happens to everyone. What a superpower!

He nods for me to come over, and I hold up my finger and turn like I’m going to ignore him.

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