Page 148 of Wild Pitch
All I manage is a brief taste of her lips, a graze of our tongues, before I convince myself to be responsible and pull away.
“If we win today’s game you may have to wish me good luck like this before every future game, you know? You’ll become my jinx,” I whisper against her smile.
“Oh, no. What a terrible hardship,” she returns with sarcasm.
We both chuckle until I pull away to offer my right hand to her. She slides her fingers between mine and we grip each other’s hands tight as we walk through the clubhouse, only pulling away when we’re at the tunnel. Hope motions at me to go first and I only obey because I do have to get my glove and get going.
“There he is.” Lucky smirks as I emerge into the dugout. “The man of the hour.” He tilts his head, spots Hope behind me, and winks at her.
“Ready?” Kim asks from the side as two guys help fit him with his catcher gear.
“As can be,” I respond.
“Bro, you got this.”
“This team has nothing on you.”
“Get them with your nastiest cutter.”
Rolling my shoulders, I head over to the cubbies to grab my glove. That’s where Rob Beau, the manager, waits for me. He doesn’t call me over like usual, just looks for some sort of sign on my face.
He must find it because he nods at me and all he says is, “I trust you, Starr. Go wild out there.”
My breath hitches.
A slow grin blooms on my face, buoyed by the warmth that’s expanding inside of me. “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go, boys.” Kim walks over to the exit. “Let’s have a wild season.”
Amidst hollers and yelling, we rush to the field right behind him. The rest of the team runs to their spots on the field, and the catcher follows me to the mound.
“Stop looking so damn happy, it’s not intimidating for the opponent,” he grouches and bumps his glove against my chest.
“You too would be this happy if you had an amazing woman who just gave you the most epic kiss of your life before a game.”
He grimaces. “Are you going to focus on the game or on your girlfriend?”
“Both,” I chirp back.
“If you stare at her more than once per inning, I will burn down your favorite pizza joint.”
“I believe you.” I smack my left hand into my glove. “But trust me, having Hope only makes me want to play harder. I got this.”
With one last harrumph, he offers his glove and I bump it with mine. Kim really didn’t need to worry though, the umpire callsplay balland I throw the first strike of the season—a nasty one that sets the tone for the new Orlando Wild.
EPILOGUE
HOPE: NEXT NOVEMBER
I’m glad we decided to drive my Jeep down to Miami. The top is off and the warm wind whips at us, the sun blasting from above. I’m sure my hair looks like black flames behind me and that I’m going to have a hand shaped tan line on my thigh by the time we get to Kelly and Mitch’s McMansion, but I have no complaints. The weight of Cade’s hand has become my favorite feeling.
There’s no doubt it’s also his, especially because I’m wearing really short jean shorts for the trip.
We’re off the big highways at last and into suburban traffic when we roll to a stop at a red light, and he turns his head to me. His brown hair’s also a beautiful mess, and I’m equal parts annoyed that I can’t see his brilliant eyes behind the dark aviators, as I’m thrilled that I can’t tell where he’s looking.
“Hey,” he says in a raspy voice that could be from the wind, from the off tune karaoke session we had a few miles behind, or from something else. I hope it’s the latter.
I cross my legs, imprisoning his hand. “Hey.”
