This time it was my turn to blush. I stared at my shoes before bringing my gaze back up and saying fervently, “You look amazing, Emma.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself, doc.” She winked, and I felt my heart slip towards her as if it was on a patch of ice and she was downhill. She grabbed a small purse off of a hook by the door and slung it over her shoulder. “Bye, Becca,” she hollered over her shoulder. “We’re headed out.”
Becca ducked out from behind the kitchen counter, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So you are stealing my ticket, huh, doc?”
Emma elbowed her in the stomach. These two acted more like sisters than roommates. They’d been friends long enough that they must have a deep bond. I liked that about Emma. She kept people in her life, and I wanted to be one of her keepers.
Becca threw up her hands. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing! I didn’t want to go today anyway.” She turned to walk away but paused and said, “If you want to get on her good side, doc, pink cotton candy is her favorite.” She dodged the crusty look that Emma threw her way and quickly slid into the next room.
“All right, then.” Emma shook her head after her friend. “Shall we go?”
“Absolutely.” I grinned. Emma was in a great mood, and I was riding high on the fact that this beautiful woman was mine for the evening. I’d have to thank Becca for the cotton candy tip later.
We took the stairs and made our way into the night. The air was muggy and warm, perfect for a baseball game. I opened the passenger door for Emma, and she slid in gracefully, unlocking my door for me.
It wasn’t hard to find the stadium, but I’d programmed directions to a nearby parking garage that had a good reputation. My car shouted out the first instruction, and I turned down the volume.
“So did I really take Becca’s ticket?” I asked. “I could pay her for it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emma replied nonchalantly. “We buy season tickets with each other every year. But if one of us has friends or family coming into town … or a date … then we share. Heaven knows I’ve given up my ticket a time or two for her. Now it’s my turn.” Emma winked at me as she spoke the last sentence.
My heart skipped a beat. I wasn’t sure if she was being as flirty as I thought or if I was projecting that onto her because I wanted this to be a great night. Instead of worrying about it, I decided to go with the flow.
We got to Wrigley Field, and Emma took my arm as we walked up the steps. Part of it was so we weren’t separated in the pregame crowd; part was so she could guide me along. But when she tucked herself into my side, I decided I never wanted her to let go and placed my hand over hers.
She smiled up at me. “Welcome to home plate.” She threw her other arm out, and I had to rip my gaze away from her to take in the field.
I blurted my first impression. “It’s smaller than I thought.”
She laughed. “I know. When you see it on TV, it looks huge. But I think that’s a trick of the cameras.”
“I feel like I’m practically on the field.” The players were in their pregame warm-up, throwing the ball around the bases and chattering. There was a sense of anticipation in the air that was contagious. I glanced down to find Emma watching me. “What?”
She bit her lip. “Do you like it?”
I took a deep breath, catching the scent of fresh-popped popcorn and onions and peppers on a grill. Some guy laughed too loud off to my right, and two women walked by in blue face paint. “I love it.”
She guided me to what she called the field box and started to show me her world.If she’d bought season tickets this close, she was serious about the game. I couldn’t help but think that inviting me into her happy place meant she might be serious about me too.
Good. Because I was falling fast for this woman.
“These are nice seats,” I said, smiling at her. Then I threw out, “Much better than mine.” I waited to see her reaction when I mentioned I had season tickets too.
She didn’t disappoint. “You have tickets too?” She shot me a look that was both questioning and wonderment at the same time.
I grinned back at her. “When I moved here, I thought I would try to develop a new hobby or something, but as usual, I became consumed by work. So I gave my season tickets to Ben and his wife.”
“Ben from work?”
I nodded.
Emma hugged my arm that she was still holding, thank the heavens. “Where are your seats?”
“On the side over there by first base, about halfway up.” I pointed in the general direction.
“Not bad, Alex,” Emma said in appraisal. “How long has it been since you went to a baseball game?”
I paused, doing the math in my head. “Seventeen years. My mom loved baseball, and we’d go to the 3A games. I hardly remember a thing except that they had peanuts and you could drop the shells on the ground and no one got mad.”
