Page 22 of The Umpire Strikes Back

Kali laughs quietly, running a hand through her tousled hair. “And miss the sight of you in the kitchen? No thanks.”

A ripple of satisfaction moves through me. I finish plating up two omelets, adding a side of toast, then set them on the small table in the corner. She slides into a chair, and we eat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Kali glances around. “So, when does Juniper get back?” She looks up at me, eyes bright, genuinely curious. “I mean, I wouldn’t want her to walk in on, uh… unexpected company.”

I fight a smile. “She’ll be home this evening. Hattie’s bringing her to my game. Hattie took her out for some sort of kid-friendly adventure.” I think of how Juniper practically bounces off the walls whenever Hattie takes her on these mini-excursions. “I’m sure she’ll have a thousand stories to tell by bedtime.”

Kali’s lips curve into a softer smile. “I was thinking… I’m not umping your game today, so maybe I could come watch you play?”

My heart does a weird lurch. “You want to come to my game?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says, ducking her head a little like she’s worried about coming on too strong. “If that’s cool with you?”

I reach across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’d love to see you in the stands. I’m sure Juniper would be thrilled too. She loves showing off when we have someone special there to cheer us on.”

Kali’s cheeks flush at the wordspecial,but she doesn’t shy away. Instead, she lifts her coffee mug in a small toast. “Then I’ll be there.”

We finish our breakfast, sharing a few smiles and lingering touches that set my nerves humming all over again. Afterward, she insists on helping me clear the dishes, washing while I dry, our arms occasionally brushing in a way that sends shivers down my spine. It’s so domestic it almost feels surreal—but I can’t deny how right it all seems.

Finally, Kali says she needs to head home and get ready for the day. We linger by the door, arms wrapped around each other, the spicy-sweet scent of her shampoo messing with my head. I can’t resist one last kiss—slow, lazy, with just enough promise to make me wish she could stay.

“I’ll see you at the game,” she whispers, stepping back and smoothing her hands down her dress.

“Count on it,” I say, my eyes still fixed on her.

She’s halfway out the door when I tug her back by the wrist, stealing another quick kiss that leaves her laughing. Then she’s gone, and I’m left standing in the open doorway, feeling like a teenager with a lovestruck grin plastered on my face.

* * *

A couple of hours later,I’m in the locker room at the stadium, pulling on my uniform pants and running through mental drills. The guys around me chat about everything from last night’s bar scene to the next big away game, but my mind keeps drifting to Kali—the way she fit against me, how her smile looked when she saw me cooking for her in the kitchen, the fact that she’s showing up to watch me play today without a whistle or chest protector.

I’m distracted enough that Fenway nudges me in the ribs. “Hey, Rip, you in there?” he teases, pulling on his socks. “Earth to Johnson.”

Mike leans over from the next bench, a grin stretching across his face. “He’s got that look. That ‘I just spent a killer night with somebody special’ look.”

Jace smirks, crossing his arms. “So, rumors are you’ve been hanging around a certain ump lately…”

I roll my eyes, though I can’t hide the flicker of a smile. “Yeah maybe I have.”

“Try to focus on the game today, okay?” Fenway laughs.

“Look, she’s not umping today, okay? She’s… coming to watch.”

“Oho, so itisserious!” Fenway prods, eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on, spill. We need details. Are we losing you to the dark side of officiating?”

“You’re not losing me anywhere,” I laugh, shoving my shoes into the bottom of the locker. “And I’m not about to give you some romantic play-by-play. Let’s just say… I like her.” A lot, I add silently, even if I can’t quite bring myself to admit it out loud in a room full of rowdy teammates.

A chorus of amused hoots and whistles goes up, making my cheeks burn. Mike claps me on the shoulder. “Good for you, man. Just don’t let her call balk on you off the field.”

“Ha, ha, hilarious,” I mutter, but my grin doesn’t fade.

We wrap up our pre-game routines, talk strategy, double-check our gear. My mind is half on baseball, half on the image of Kali in the stands, hopefully wearing that same soft look in her eyes she had this morning. And for the first time in what feels like ages, I step onto the field thinking less about pitching a perfect game and more about the woman who might just make all the chaos worth it.

14

Kali

I’m half-jogging up the concrete steps of the stadium when my nerves kick into overdrive.Calm down, Kali,I scold myself, pressing a hand to my stomach. My pulse is already fluttering like I’m on my way to a final exam. But this isn’t a test. It’s a minor league baseball game. And the only difference is that for the first time, I’m not on the field in an umpire’s uniform, barking out calls. I’m in the stands, about to watch Ripley pitch… as hismaybe something more.

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