Page 3 of Big Booze Boss

"Good, Blaze, and you?"

"Can't complain."

He stepped back into the aisle, dragging Jenny with him. The three of them chatted for a few minutes while I snapped pictures of their reunion. Then he glanced my way again, waved, and his hot ass trotted back down to the field and disappeared into the dugout. The next time we saw him, he was in full catcher's gear and double damn! Hot doesn't even begin to describe him.

The game was a pitcher's battle, and Blaze was brilliant. Blocking foul balls because he's quick as a cat. Tagging two runners sliding into home. One because he's big and blocked the plate, and the other because he's so tall and his reach is longer than most catchers, the runner couldn't slide around him to avoid the tag. He also threw out a runner stealing second and one at first who took too big a lead off the base. God, he was awesome to watch live. I never miss a televised game, but it's not the same watching live, where I can focus one hundred percent of my attention only on him and not have to wait for the camera to show him.

During the sixth inning break, the Megatron flashed a "Will you marry me?" message, and I pointed up to it. Jenny's name started flashing, and both our mouths dropped.

Brandon was on one knee.

Jenny squealed as she jumped up, shouting, "YES, YES, YES!"

I always knew Jenny would marry Brandon. They had been together since middle school. I was as thrilled as she was. If any two people exist that are more perfect for each other, I would like to meet them.

In the top of the ninth inning, a team photographer appeared. Jenny turned to me and apologized with the cursed words, "I'm sorry, Summer. But do you mind?"

Aghast that she said them, but not wanting to ruin her moment, I hid my reaction. Excusing myself so the photographer could have my seat, I went to the concessions for a round of celebratory beer. Being superstitious, I was extra cautious and careful at every turn. I talked the server into giving me a tray to carry them on so I wouldn't drop them.

On my way back, I slowly made my way down the stairs to our seats. Carefully balancing the tray of three full-to-the-brim plastic cups of beer. Then the announcer said Blaze was up to bat.

I stopped to watch. The game was tied.

His massive manliness crouched, ready to pounce, then coiled into position.

The pitcher fired the ball.

Mesmerized by the sheer power as he wielded the bat like a sword. Stepping into the line of fire, he swung.

It sounded like a gunshot.

But he didn't run. He stood watching it.

Then time stood still.

I swear our eyes connected the split second before I looked up to see the white ball screaming straight for me.

I barely had time to duck when the white bullet smashed into and spectacularly obliterated 48 ounces of beer.

The stadium held its breath, waiting to see if I survived.

When I stood up unharmed but thoroughly soaked, the entire stadium cheered, and I raised my arms in victory.

Of course, the Megatron would replay it in slow ass motion as I stood watching Blaze crouch to swing again.

Another gunshot sounded, but this time, Blaze ran the bases. The Rockies' number one home run hitter had come through again.

He tagged home plate, high-fived the runners he had hit in, and jogged to the dugout. But he didn't go in. Instead, he opened the gate and ran up the stairs to me.

Although he stopped one step below, he still towered over me. "Breezy, are you alright?"

Stunned doesn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. He was so drop-dead gorgeous. All grown up and ALL MAN! I was speechless.

He cupped my face, frowning, staring at me with a look I didn't want to see.

Desire.

Then the crowd around us started chanting, "KISS HER!"

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