Page 46 of Wild Hit
“Absolutely not,” our physical therapist snaps, folding her arms tight enough to show muscle. “Not mid-season and certainly not on my watch.”
“Boo, hiss,” Lucky says, clearly enunciating the words. “Then how do we justify stumbling into a chapel for these two to get married?”
“We justify it by saying they’re in love and couldn’t wait any longer,” she fires back.
Lucky turns to us on the couch. “Does that sound reasonable enough?”
No.
I nearly snort. None of this makes sense. I’ve never been part of anything more absurd in my life. Yet, I know that not so deep down it’s not gonna be super hard to fake interest on the woman beside me. She’s really freaking beautiful anyway, with those freckles over her nose and the pink lips. I’m not immune to her generous, very distracting curves either. And those gams…
Oof.
I squirm. What can I say? I didn’t make a whole kid by osmosis.
Then Audrey finally speaks for the first time in at least an hour. “I can get drunk, at least.” I turn to her like a whip and she asks, “What?”
“I’m not gonna marry a woman who is drunk and with impaired judgement.”
“That’s admirable and all,” she returns, dripping in sarcasm. “But we’re agreeing to the marriage days in advance already, and I’ll need all the liquid courage I can get to make this happen.”
Cade runs his hands up and down his girlfriend’s arms. “Are you sure that at least Machado can’t get drunk?”
She tosses a glare over her shoulder. “Miguel is in the lineup for the Vegas game, so no.”
“What if he gets explosive diarrhea?” Lucky asks, calm as a cucumber even though he didn’t just stun the entire room to silence. “Don’t look at me like that, cabrones, I’m not saying I’ll cause it. What I mean is that a lil temporary inactive list never hurt nobody.”
“And what if we lose the series because of that?” the Orlando Wild’s first captain in franchise history asks in something like a growl.
Silence.
“I’ll just pretend I’m drunk,” I offer.
“Okay great. That’s a solid idea.”
“Whew, thought I was gonna die tonight.”
“No more out of the box ideas, yeah?”
“Out of the box or out of the butt? Get it?Get it?”
I would laugh if I wasn’t in the middle of this.
This is when I notice my hand fiddling with the crucifix at my neck, my knee bouncing, my palms sweating, my pulse hammering like I’m running home and a baseman is trying to tag me before I get there.
Last time I tried to get married the whole thing was dead on arrival. I’m not exactly prime husband material with being a single dad and on the road much of the year. But Marty’s getting someone to role play Mom and daughter with at school, and Audrey’s getting spared from an arranged marriage like this is still the 1800s.
All I have to do is… go along for the ride. My overthinking isn’t welcome. This isn’t real, no matter how much I look forward to the prospect of kissing this woman after we lie through our teeth with I do’s.
I force both hands to hold my knees down.
“Anyway,” the cowboy says, motioning with his hand so that hisbruhcontinues outlining the plan.
“Then, once they get married we take pictures and move on to the hotel.”
I smack my things. “All right, that’s it. Marty, off to bed you go.”
“But—”
