Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (most popular ebook readers txt) 📗

here. Casey had been gone the entire weekend, deciding to stay with her parents once her mother arrived, so Mateo had just about moved in, keeping her company when he could and attending the practices and then playing with his friends when she had to work.

He was thriving here. Whether it was the weather or the being back out on a field, she didn’t know, but she was enjoying the exuberance he had for this new life.

Last Thursday, the Greenies’ first day of practice, had seen an influx of new fans clamoring at the gates to come in. They took the hourly tours of the stadium and clubhouse, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of their favorite player, picked up their favorite player’s tee shirt or custom jersey in the gift shop, along with other souvenirs of their trip here, such as hats, coffee mugs, and key chains. Both venues were in her purview, and she’d worked around the clock to make sure everything was ready and in its place. Lyra ran inventory each day and reported even the three newcomers’ shirts were flying off the racks. They’d have to place another order soon to keep up with the mad rush. She’d gone out on a couple of the tours personally, to read the pulse of the fan base, and even though they didn’t know she’d been the one responsible for bringing the talent together, they couldn’t contain their excitement about the upcoming season. Lyra had taken on some of her duties, holding down the fort when she’d play hooky, which she did as often as she could before the guilt set in. It wasn’t as often as Mateo wanted, but it was far more time than she’d ever taken away from her team.

On Friday, she saw a smattering of those new shirts being worn by fans coming in for the second day. It was the triumvirate that had accumulated followers by the dozen, and she knew why. Not only were they talented and energized but they looked like they were having fun out on the field. The added incentive for a conclave of admirers? They were three of the most handsome of the Greenies, two with an international flair that seemed to incite hormones. She’d been edgier than usual since opening those gates, watching the women swoon and clamor, but it hadn’t caused her to create distance. Instead, she’d been grasping for all she could. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe if and when he left her, but she was using rolls of duct tape to hold hope in place.

This morning, she lazed against him, knowing she had to get up and get busy but needing to be skin to skin. She didn’t know when the last cuddle would come, and she wanted to savor every one.

Today was their first game, against the Toronto Blue Jays, and she had a million things to do before the one o’clock start time.

She kissed his cheek, familiar with his morning stubble, and she rubbed her cheek against it before forcing herself out of bed.

“Just a few more minutes, Alicia. Please.”

Mateo reached for her hand and held on. He wasn’t going to make it easy to get on with her day. Knowing Casey would be back tonight and he’d be stuck with his roommates, he was being stubbornly insistent she continue to lie with him. He still didn’t understand why he was being exiled, but she couldn’t explain it. That was Casey’s story to tell.

Brushing his hand away playfully, she said, “I’m already late. I should have been in my office an hour ago.”

He mumbled something before throwing off the covers and getting up. As she tied the sash of her robe around her waist, she gave herself one last peek at him in his naked glory before scooting out to the kitchen to get her coffee started. She breathed a sigh of relief that he’d donned his boxers before joining her. She couldn’t afford that particular distraction this morning. It was enough that his scent was all over her. It was an aphrodisiac all on its own.

After pouring himself a mug of coffee, he’d retrieved the newspaper that she’d subscribed to and took them into the living room, where he sat with his feet up and his mind engaged. The local paper was filled with all sorts of Greenie news during the short Grapefruit season, and she read every scrap of material written, needing to know all the local gossip that might have evaded her.

He always got it first. For some reason, she didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey, the sports page has an interview with Buzzley. Did you okay that?”

“I was there with him when he gave it. I wanted to monitor any reference to last year.”

He glanced over after reading it. “You did well. They covered more of his good years than the one bad one.”

“As Rique would say, ‘I’m not me for nothing.’”

She said it with a flourish as she disappeared into the bathroom.

She showered and changed in record time, her floral skirt, blouse, and high-heel sandals professional enough for her position but cool enough for the warmth. His eyes shimmered in admiration when she went in to give him a kiss goodbye.

“I’ll see you at the field.” She said it from behind him, but his hand held her in place for a more in-depth goodbye that left her breathless.

“A home run would be a nice hello.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The car she’d rented was in the driveway, having been delivered on Saturday. She’d need transportation to the field that didn’t include a bus, which was what the guys would take at the appointed time. She glanced at her watch half-way to Citrus Field, ticking off what she’d have to do when she got there in order of priority. There were travel itineraries to confirm for the team’s road trips, ticket sales to check, moods and attitudes to adjust, rules to reestablish, and marketing brochures to proof. But first