Page 139 of Wild Pitch
And then the ball drops sharply.
The thud echoes in the quiet. My feet land, left hand fisting. I grit my teeth but the word still escapes.
“Yeehaw!”
The umpire calls, “Strike, batter out!”
My infielders yell. “Yeah!”
The dugouts shout. Complaints from one side. Cheers from the other.
And the stands are quiet.
Machado stops to give me a look, tilting his head like he’s figured something out about me for the first time. I don’t know if about my cutter or if he’s just realized I’m not the worst pitcher in the league, and I don’t care.
“I’m getting pizza!” I shout.
Kim stands up and lifts his mask. “Yeah, okay. Focus on getting the next batters out too, you piece of work.”
His PG rated choice of words for the umpire’s sake makes me grin.
It’s not like getting the next batters out is that much easier. Each one requires a series of chess moves I’m really thankful that I don’t have to make all by myself. But we make it, and I’m floating on air as we return to the dugout.
My teammates jostle me around, congratulating me on the best inning of my life. I’m drenched in sweat and achy, but none of that matters as Beau nods at me. “Good job. Go get iced.”
I’ll frame those words and hang them in my living room. For now, I respond with, “Yes, sir,” and duck into the tunnel, enjoying the booing and jeers from Riders’ fans behind me.
I’m still vibrating with energy as I take off my shirt and toss it on a chair. While ripping off my soaked through undershirt,I start calculating how much the bill will be at my fave Italian restaurant after Hope and I are done later tonight. We’re going to bankrupt Kim and I can’t wait.
“They sent me to ice you.”
I lower my arms, the undershirt still caught in them. A grin takes over my face. “Well, isn’t this my lucky day.”
Hope folds her arms but is smiling. “Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking. I’m here on a professional capacity only.”
Gasping in mock outrage, I finish ripping out my undershirt and dropping it wherever. “Excuse me, I was going over the menu at the pizza place in my head. Come here, darlin’.”
“Nope. I have to go get your ice pack from storage.” She pivots away from me and I follow. Hope gives me a glance over her shoulder, probably about to give me another warning, but then her attention drifts lower down my body, and she doesn’t say anything further as I follow her into the storage room.
Inside, she whirls toward me. “Okay, I can’t help myself.”
“Great, neither can I.”
We meet exactly in the middle, our mouths hungry for each other. Her hands grip my wet hair, pulling me lower for a deeper kiss I’m only too glad to deliver. I eat her mouth like it’s ice cream, my hands roaming down her sides, her hips, until I find her incredible thighs.
Disconnecting the kiss, I bend lower to pick her up. Hope cinches her arms around my neck and I walk a few steps to sit her on the table.
“That was amazing,” she breathes out against my mouth.
“What? Lifting you up?”
“That too but I actually meant your cutter.”
“Oh so you like me more for what my body does on the field than what it does for you?”
“I cannot believe those words just came out of your mouth.” She blows a raspberry. “Of course I like your body for both. Please.”
“Good. Then I guess I can do this.” I look down and grab her knees, pulling them apart with no resistance. Like she’s fully on board with this. Smiling, I look back up into her molten eyes. “And this?” Slowly, I slide my hands to her outer thighs, pressing tight so she knows I mean it, until I get to her hips.
