Lucy Wolfe.
Micah’s younger sister.
It wasn’t hard to get the intel I needed to figure out who the mouthy,prettybrunette was, who obviously didn’t like me very much.
And I’m relieved.
I was adamant that Micah finally moved on, rekindled a relationship he had previously, and it didn’t feel nice.
It felt like another gut-wrenching stab to the heart with a really bad case of insomnia.
One I know I can’t do again.
It’s evident that I’m attached to this man. That no other one is going to gather up my attention and make me forget.
Micah is who makes my heart beat faster, my pulse race with excitement and irritation, and it means something.
It means I’m screwed.
I had every inkling of showing up to Micah’s last night for dinner, but didn’t want to commit in case I chickened out last second. So, I did research.
It took me a whole fifteen minutes at the salon while getting my hair cut to figure out who Lucy was.
Then I didn’t feel so threatened.
Obviously, she knows about me. I wouldn’t be happy with me either if a woman wouldn’t just drop her suit on past issues and just move on already.
On paper, it sounds dumb.
In reality, it’s cautious.
However, even that has a time limit. Because the more time that transpires and the more times I see him, the worse it gets.
So, just like Lucy, I’ll play along.
I purposely skipped dinner and showed up to the Magnolia Elementary baseball game with a newly purchasedMagnolia Ridge Marsh Hogstee and, yeah, I still don’t get it, but they were all over town today.
And, I swear, every person in Magnolia Ridge is here today.
The stands are packed, many folks brought their folded up chairs, and there are food trucks, a band—yes, I said a band—and not enough parking spots.
It’s a madhouse.
And they haven’t stopped cheering all game.
It’s the last inning, the crowd is going wild with excitement because we’re up two runs and the opposing team has two outs.
The last one means the game is over, and I have a feeling, this town is going to have a damn party over the win.
But, hey, whatever makes them happy.
Meanwhile, I’ve been watching the game but studying Micah like a hawk as he motivates his team to focus. He’s been all over, pacing and shouting, not once has he looked in the crowd, because I highly doubt he knows I’d show up.
Plus, it’d probably take him thirty minutes to find me in the throng of blue shirts and waving poster signs.
Taking a sip of my beer, the kid at bat strikes out, and the crowd goes wild.
Like rapturing insanity.
