I wanted to question him—I really did. But he seemed sincere. I followed him into the kitchen and watched one of the most sought-after men in the country make me a meat sandwich. Just meat. No fun stuff. It sucked. He used the same hands that had had me walking funny, and I knew it had to happen again.
No one had made me come like that and I wanted more.
Chapter Twelve
Gideon
“Garth—block the ball. That’s your job. Block it.”
“But it came in fast,” the kid whined. I pinched the bridge of my nose and annoyance took over. It was our first game of the season and the kids felt brave enough to talk back. I clearly hadn’t imposed my alpha-ness on them. “Coach Titan, I’mnota good catcher.”
“Yes, you are. You have the skills necessary to succeed. Use them.” I placed two hands on each shoulder and held his gaze. “Confidence, kid. Confidence is what you need. Now, forget about the passed balls and get ready to bat. We need runs.”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded at me and went to stand in the on-deck circle. Fiona brushed by me in her ridiculous getup. She wore tight black pants, a large zip-up jacket and her damn fanny pack. God. I wanted to strip that fanny pack off her and spend an hour between her thighs.Focus.The game.“Team! Listen up. The pitcher’s arm isn’t strong. Take one step towards the mound when you’re in the box. Wait an entire second before swinging.”
“He’s throwing fast,” one of the taller kids in the back replied. I eyed him, but he shrugged. “Faster than we practiced. My dad said to choke up on the bat.”
“Mine too. He said—”
“Fake bunt the first pitch.” Fiona leaned against the dugout. All their eyes shifted and she had their attention. “Stick the back out, like this, and watch it.”
“There’s no bunting in baseball,” I scoffed but her frightening blue eyes narrowed at me. “We talked about this about ten times,Fiona. That’s small ball. We don’t need to do that.”
“Ignore Coach Titan.Trust me. When you do the fake bunt, three things happen. One, you time the pitch. You say it’s too fast, then time it. Two, it makes their defense antsy. And three, you get a better view of the strike zone. Tayler, fake bunt until you get a strike and see how you feel.”
“Okay, CFD. I’ll try.” He put on his helmet and smacked his hands together. “I don’t want to lose to this team, I really don’t.”
“Rivals?”
“No. My stepbrother plays for them and I hate him.”
Fiona and I shared a look and hers had nothing but sympathy. Then she jogged over to the first base side. I took my position at third and clapped at Tayler. “You got it.”
He gave a brisk nod and scooted up in the box. Fiona’s idea wasn’t bad. But it was more a softball move than baseball. Tayler showed the fake bunt, pure determination on his face, and the pitcher threw him a drop ball. Tayler pulled back, the umpire screaming loudly for all of us to hear. “Ball!”
“Do it again, Tayler.” I snuck at glance at Fiona, but she ignored me. Fair enough. “Let’s go, kid—we need runners.”
I became an observer of the game after that. He faked a bunt twice more, the count still not having any strikes.Maybe Fiona is right. Damn it.I clapped as Tayler watched a strike go by and gave a big nod to Fiona. She gave him a measly thumbs-up and the next pitch, he crushed it to right field. I waved him on, swinging my arm around as pride burst through me. “Keep going!”
The kid hustled, using every part of his body to make the double into a triple. And it worked. He slid head first, every member of our team on their feet. I jumped up and down, ignoring the sharp pain shooting up my thigh. The momentum was set and adrenaline could hold off the throbbing for a bit.
Brad followed Fiona’s advice and got a single, giving us our first lead. The next four guys all got on base and the other team switched pitchers. It was the third inning and we all knew we’d gotten into their heads. Most pitchers lasted until the sixth at least.
We scored five runs that inning. The kids ran out onto the field and Garth gave me a wounded look before putting on the gear. He was made to catch—I would bet money on it. He needed encouragement and I would make it a personal goal to help him. It was purely for his sake and not at all to tell Fiona she was right.
I’d rather eat knives.
The smugness rolled off her when she perched up next to me on the fence. She cleared her throat at least twice before staring at me. Her knowing gaze hit me. I gave in. “Yes?”
“Interesting how we scored five runs, yeah?”
“If I agree with you, you’ll walk around thinking you’re six feet tall. But if I disagree, you’ll throw it in my face until I agree. I can’t win.”
“Yeah. Your life is sohard.” She smacked the back of my head before walking to stand on the south end of the dugout. It wasn’t hard. It didn’t hurt. But it insulted me. The nerve of this girl. I thought of a million things I could do to tie up those hands. And that mouth.
Because her mouth got her in trouble.I know what I want to stick in there.
