Page 9 of Catching Her Heart
I look at our hands, still touching across the table, then back at his hopeful face. Every rational part of my brain is screaming warnings about professional boundaries and the disasters that happen when reporters get too close to their sources.
But sitting here in this cozy coffee shop, with Ted's thumb tracing gentle circles on my knuckles, all I can think about is how right this feels.
"I'd like that too," I hear myself say.
Ted's answering smile could power the entire city.
We talk until Mrs. Adams starts pointedly stacking chairs around us, and even then we linger on the sidewalk outside, neither wanting the evening to end. When Ted walks me to my car, our fingers intertwine naturally, like we've been holding hands for years instead of hours.
"So," he says as I unlock my door, "same time tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Coffee. After the game. Unless..." He looks suddenly uncertain. "Unless you think this is moving too fast."
I think about everything that's happened in the past two days. Meeting Ted, his family adopting me, this perfect evening that felt more like a first date than an interview.
I step closer to him, feeling a little bolder than normal. "I think you might be worth breaking a few rules for."
CHAPTER FIVE
Three weeksinto what I'm trying not to call "dating Ted," I'm sitting in the press box for the first time since my stadium navigation disaster. I've finally figured out where I'm supposed to be, though I have to admit I miss the chaos of sitting with the Brennan family cheering section.
My phone buzzes during the seventh inning stretch. Tim Webb, my editor.
"Blackwood, I need that trade deadline piece by tomorrow morning. And it better have something the other guys don't."
I glance down at the field where Ted is crouched behind home plate, calling signals to Jay. After the game, we have another coffee date planned. Our fourth this week. Not that I'm counting.
"I'm working on it," I tell Tim. "I have good sources."
"You better. That sneaky Simmons is sniffing around the same story. If you can't deliver something exclusive, I'll have to reconsider your position here."
The line goes dead. I stare at my phone, my stomach sinking. Tim has been increasingly demanding lately, and I know my job is on thin ice. Austin was supposed to be my fresh start, my chance to prove myself. But if I can't deliver better stories than the competition...
The game ends with another Stars victory. As I make my way down to wait for Ted outside the family section—our usual meeting spot—I try to push Tim's words out of my mind. Ted emerges twenty minutes later, that easy smile spreading across his face when he spots me.
"Hey," he says. "Ready for our post-game debrief?"
"Always." I fall into step beside him as we head toward the parking lot. "Great game tonight. That throw to second in the fourth was perfect."
"You're getting good at this baseball analysis thing." Ted bumps my shoulder with his. "Soon you'll be calling the games better than I do."
We drive separately to Hill Country Coffee, where we’re lucky to find our favorite table aavailable. Ted orders his hot chocolate, I get my coffee, and we settle into the comfortable routine we've developed.
"So," Ted says, then glances around the nearly empty coffee shop. He leans forward, lowering his voice. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm too excited to keep it to myself."
My heart does a little flip at his conspiratorial tone. "What?"
"Johnson's getting traded tomorrow. Coach told us after the game." Ted's eyes are bright with excitement. "To the Mariners. It's not public yet, obviously, but..."
"That's huge," I say, though I'm not entirely sure why he looks so thrilled about losing a teammate.
"It means I move up in the batting order," Ted explains. "Third spot instead of seventh. More at-bats, better chance to prove myself, especially with contract negotiations coming up next year."
The excitement in his voice is infectious, and I find myself grinning. "Ted, that's amazing! You've been wanting more playing time."
"I know I shouldn't be happy about Johnson leaving—he's a good guy. But this could change everything for me." He reaches across the table to take my hand. "I wanted you to be the first to know."
