Page 7 of Nailed at Home Plate

“Please give a Sillys welcome to our new starting catcher,” The curious murmurs reverberated throughout the locker room. What player could make ownership pull Schmidt as our starting catcher? The man was the team’s single cheerleader. I mean– “Philly’s own…Jamie Rheems!”

My heart and eyes collided with the brick wall that was the absolute vision of Jamie Rheems as he slipped through the locker room door.

Oh my god.

He washere.

In the flesh, standing easily a head and shoulder taller than Topper. The man of all my fantasies of late was standing in the locker room ofmyworkplace.

As the newest member of my team.

As in, someone I will have to train.

As in, someone I’m going to have to face, on a daily basis, for maybe the rest of the season.

The only time I’d ever been close to Jamie Rheems was from at least two dozen rows back at the ballpark behind fencing and security. Not six or so odd feet away from the man that I hadliterallyorgasmed to thoughts of last night.

Oh, dear god, I was so fucked.

And not in the good way.

Something of a scowl curled at his bold bow of a mouth. He didn’t look happy to be here. Which, granted, made sense given the situation he found himself in.

The Phillies currently had the best record in baseball. They needed to keep the momentum going. A half-assed catcher wasn’t going to get them to the postseason. Aside from the designated hitter, each team member had to pull their weight. They both played their position and had a chance at bat. When the star catcher, in the number two batting spot at the beginning of the season, dropped down to the number eight, something was drastically wrong. Maybe that’s why he was here?

None of it made sense. The Sillys didn’t need the help. Our roster was solid. Maybe Topper knew something we didn’t.

My eyes couldn’t leave the man as Topper slowly introduced Jamie to the players. I couldn’t believe it. My heart was racing so fast I thought it was going to make a break for it, up through my throat and out of my mouth.

Jamie was in his mid-30s and quickly coming up to the “out to pasture” years for a major league ball player. Especially as a catcher. Squatting for long lengths of time and throwing from a crouched position was hard on the human body. Despite all that, he was still giving the younger guys in his position a run for their money. At least before his injury.

Goddamn, he was so fuckingfine.

Well-built in all the right ways and with a jawline that made your gaze want to linger, he turned heads with fans. Even with his head in a ball cap, his rich dark chocolate hair was always tousled so perfectly when he took his hat off. His hair color paired so well with his stunning blue eyes. The color was so intense youcould easily see his irises through a television screen.

Which was why it was so difficult for me to believe that he was currently only a few feet from me and headed in my direction. I tried to remain calm and desperately wished that my face didn’t give away the distress that I was feeling inside. Topper was making sure that Jamie met with everyone. Since dancing was a healthy dose of the Sillys’ training, meant that he was headed directly for me at the end of the line.

I resonated with a deer in the headlights as Jamie inched his way closer to me. There was a subtle five o’clock shadow along his jaw, his skin softly tanned from the hours on the ballfield. Throughout the baseball season he went from being clean-shaven to a rough stubble but never let it get long enough to be considered anything but. Either look for him sent my female hormones into“fuck me hard”overdrive.

His scowl only deepened as Topper turned to me. My heart came to a complete and shuddering stop being this close to Jamie Rheems, the man of my dreams in my fantasies. I couldn’t help but feel my usually warm, glowing fantasy shatter into a zillion pieces as I faced this grumpy front of his. Those blue eyes were as cold as their icy color.

Great. We were already off to a rough start and neither of us had said anything yet. Those enchanting eyes of his drifted down and back up my body as if he was trying to figure me out. I had to suppress what would have been a delicious shiver. He was sizing me up. Given my five-foot height, it didn’t take long. The thirsty bitch inside me hoped it was for a thorough devouring, but unfortunately, I wasn’t one of God’s chosen ones.

“Cadence Andrews here is the boss on the field when the ball isn’t in play. You listen to her and her alone in between plays for the routines. Half of practice days are for field and batting work. The rest is for choreography.” Jamie’s eyes went dark as his brow furrowed. There was a tightening of his jaw which made me want to slap his sour mood right off his face. This wasn’t at all his normal demeanor.

I wasn’t even blessed with a voiced agreement. All I got was a curt nod. But hell, his gaze was intense. It was akin to his usual look on the ballfield with his game face on, calling pitches to the pitcher. The man was all business. Oddly enough, the longer we were in each other’s personal space, the more intense his look got.

Oxygen slowly vacated my lungs in one long, shaky breath as the duo slowly turned away from me to speak with the other coaches. Holy fucking seven circles of hell. I honestly didn’t know if I should be weirdly turned on, ready to pull out my mace spray or cry.

Jamie Rheems was going to be a tough nut to crack.

That is if I could survive being around him every day first.

I Knew You Were Trouble

TAYLOR SWIFT

“Iwalked into a fucking Disney movie,” I muttered under my breath as I saw what looked like chaos set to music. My new teammates were all spread out in the outfield, working on what looked like some oddly complicated dance number. An overplayed pop radio hit blared over a rather large wireless speaker by a woman’s feet as they all attempted to follow her lead in the outfield near second base.

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