Page 44 of Karma's Kiss

He smiles and shakes his head. “He’s just trying to intimidate the other team. Come out guns blazing, that kind of thing. He’ll lighten up.”

Sawyer does not lighten up. He’s on fire, managing to strike out the first three batters. I’m grateful the inning ends relatively quickly as it means I don’t have to endure this torture for one more second. I stand and yank off my glove, staring down at my red, inflamed palm. My hand is shaking, but when Sawyer looks over, I give him a thumbs-up and a weak smile so he doesn’t have to worry that he might have hurt me. It’s probably my fault I don’t know how to catch better. Jimmy doesn’t complain about Sawyer’s pitches when he plays catcher.

Lindsey hurries over to help me out of the gear so I don’t have to waddle back to the dugout with it on. It would be nice if Sawyer assisted, or even acknowledged me, really. He’s been so aloof this morning, acting like we barely know each other. Is he trying to play it cool in front of everyone or did he finally take my “I just got out of an engagement” protestations to heart? And why does the idea of that no longer sit right with me?

David catches up to Sawyer on their way back to the dugout, and I overhear him ask, “What was that about?” but I don’t catch Sawyer’s reply.

I’m a sweaty dehydrated mess by the time the game ends, and I’m fairly certain I have two to three broken bones in my left hand. To no one’s surprise, Heatwave wins 10-0; Sawyer gave it his all. The other team couldn’t hit off him to save their life. It’s like Sawyer was trying to impress an MLB scout or something.

Jimmy and Pam have convinced Hunter to head to John’s Ice House for an early celebratory lunch, and they’re wrangling the rest of the troops as I try to down a Gatorade, desperate for the electrolytes.

“Charlotte? Lindsey? You guys in?”

Lindsey has to get back to Cruz, but Charlotte eagerly agrees, her eyes darting over to Sawyer to see if he’s joining as well, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy packing up the catcher’s gear, shoving the chest plate into a huge black duffel bag with seemingly little patience.

I walk over to him with the helmet. “Here, don’t want to forget this.”

He takes it without looking up. “Thanks.”

“Great game. You and I made quite a dynamic duo,” I tease. “And hey, I should regain feeling in my hand by the end of the week, so it’s all good.”

He grunts, but he doesn’t laugh.

Okay, obviously something is up with him, and I’m pretty certain it has to do with us. Since I arrived back in town, Sawyer’s been the one chasingme, askingmeout on dates, showing up uninvited to Queenie’s house and making his intentionsveryclear. While I’ve flirted and chatted along, happy to let him kiss me whenever he wants, I’ve also been sending mixed signals and pushing him away. I get that it might be confusing and he must have finally reached his limit. He has to be annoyed, and I know it’s my fault. I wish I’d had my head on straight from the start, but there’s been a lot going on and I really did think I needed more time between my failed engagement with Matthew and the start of something new. That said, if continuing to pump the brakes means letting Sawyer slip through my fingers because of bad timing, then screw timing.

I step closer and lower my voice. “Listen, are you busy later today?”

He finishes zipping the duffel bag then stands up to his full height. Always—but especially right now—it feels like he towers over me. His brown eyes lock with mine for the first time all day, and my stomach swoops in response.

“No,” he says with a hard edge.

I beam. “Great, because I’d love to hang out. You know, maybe even have a third date.” I scrunch my nose, rethinking quickly. “Wait, is it our third date? There was the vineyard and the restaurant and then I guess the creekkind ofcounts, right?” I smile. “So maybe this is date number four.”

I’m waiting for that trademark Sawyer Garnett smile. I would kill for a dimple right about now, but his eyebrows stay furrowed and his cool expression doesn’t soften. “Think that’s a good idea, Madison?”

His tone almost makes me take a hesitant step back. I’m not sure what he means. “Because of the Matthew stuff?” I venture.

I watch his jaw tighten, that muscle flexing there before he shakes his head, and thenthere’sthe smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes and something is slightly off.

“You know what? Come on over tonight. Yeah, I’dloveto see you.”

CHAPTER 11

For my fourthdate with Sawyer, he texts me simply:

Vineyard

5 PM

I’m taking that to mean I’m supposed to meet him at Starlight Vineyards at that time, but I would have liked a little bit more information. Are we having another picnic? Hanging with his family?

I have no idea what to wear, so I go with a simple midi-length sundress, pale blue and cinched around my waist. Fortunately, my afternoon nap helped me sleep off the rest of my hangover, and I feel like my usual self as I pull into the parking lot five minutes ahead of schedule. Other than Sawyer’s truck a few yards away, the place is deserted. We’ve got the whole vineyard to ourselves.

I’m relieved that Sawyer’s already waiting for me, leaning against his truck’s tailgate. Seeing him, I cringe at being slightly overdressed. He’s wearing jeans with dirt stains, old boots, and a simple white t-shirt. He looks like he’s been working outsideall day, and if I should be slightly repulsed by the sweat near his temples, turning his dark brown hair black, I’m absolutely not. He looks tan and glorious, the kind of guy whose body is built on hard work rather than hours spent inside a gym. I don’t pull myself out of my full-on ogle session until I’m close enough to feel the burn from his eyes as he takes me in.

“You should have worn jeans,” he says, sounding unimpressed.

I smile. “Well how was I supposed to know? You didn’t give me any heads-up. It doesn’t matter though. This dress isn’t fancy or anything.Target’s finest.”

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