I nod, even though I have no clue what I’m supposed to do next.
“Tom,” he shouts and our team photographer jogs over. I swear the man has hearts in his eyes. Me too, buddy. Me too. “We’re about to make your wife very happy. Now you keep your camera at the ready and on me.”
Tom nods eagerly. “You got it! I’m ready to go. I can’t believe I’m going to capture your first smile at Monarchs stadium.”
He gets up close to Luke, causing Luke to put a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. “Trust me, Tom, you’re going to get more than a smile.” Luke looks at me briefly before he’s back talking to Tom. “Just keep a little distance, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”
Tom takes two large steps back. “Yeah. Yes. Of course. You got it.”
Luke shakes his head, and then those eyes are back on me.
He slips a hand into his back pocket and pulls out two daisies.
I grin like a fool. “You had those in your back pocket this whole time, Coach?”
“Brought a bouquet for you but got distracted earlier.” I blush as he steps forward, tucking my hair behind my ear and sliding one daisy there before placing the other in my hand. He leans forward, whispering in my ear. “I’m really going to enjoy what comes next. Hope you’re not feeling too shy, because the spotlight is about to come your way, Daze.”
My eyes widen as my stomach drops. Oh, fuck. What have I just agreed to?
fifty-five
Sporting a glare thatcould kill, I readjust my hat as I make my way to the man who’s lucky he’s about to walk out of here on his own two legs.
He sees me coming and staggers back. Until he realizes that all eyes are on us and that he’s safe. Mostly. Then he smiles smugly.
This fucker.
I don’t stop for pleasantries as I smoothly take the mic out of his hand and smack his back hard enough to send him flying forward a few steps before he gets his footing.
“Well, that was sure… Something,” I say into the mic. From this angle I can see that half the crowd is staring at their phones, most likely tuning into our live broadcast.
Who knew that Middlebrooks’s and Vega’s chisme sessions that usually have them looking like two cackling hens would actually come in handy some day?
“David, why don’t you stand to the side over here and watch how it’s done?” My hand guides him harshly off the mound.
“It’s Damien,” he mutters as Martinez and Torres silently act as bodyguards, walking him to the opposite side of our dugout, at a safe distance from Daisy.
I turn my attention back to the packed stadium. “I think we can do better than that last pitch, don’t you?” I aim the mic at the crowd, and they scream their agreement.
I nod. “All right, then. Good thing I have someone in mind.” My eyes twinkle with mischief as they meet Daisy’s and her jaw drops. “Daisy girl, why don’t you come up here and show that sorry excuse of an ex of yours how it’s done?” I lift a teasing brow, and the crowd goes mental at my dig.
Daisy starts to walk over, and she seems genuinely shocked at the response she garners from the fans. They’re cheering her name, waving wildly, trying to get her to look their way. And I get it, because I know how it feels to want Daisy’s attention.
I force myself to take a few steps to the side as Middlebrooks catches up to Daisy and hands her a ball.
I know how nerve-racking it can be to stand in a stadium with thousands of eyes on you, but my girl’s got this in the bag. She’s been down here plenty during practice with the guys, and I’ve seen her curveball. It’s solid.
Torres takes his place not too far away but close enough to make the throw impressive. He’s definitely farther back than he was for dickface who’s looking up at us with barely restrained anger.
“All right, Daze. Show them what you got,” I say into the microphone.
She sends a soft smile my way, then she gets her head in the game. Placing her feet in a perfect pitcher’s stance, she narrows her eyes at Torres. God, she’s so fucking adorable. It’s takingeverything in me to stay put and wait until she’s done with her pitch.
She gives Tom a little wink, which, of course, he captures effortlessly, then winds her arm back and sends the ball flying. It lands with a satisfyingumphin Torres’s mitt, and he makes a show of pulling it off and shaking out his hand.
This is the part when the catcher is supposed to run up and hand the ceremonial ball over to our guest. But Torres is a smart man and stays put when he sees me making my way toward my girl.
She’s smiling from ear to ear, happiness radiating from her as she blooms under the attention.
