Heavy Hitter (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 4)

by Lucy McConnell

  “Oh, start out by thanking him for all his help on the project.”

  “I like that.” Sheila continued to write under step 1. “We need to use all our avenues of communication. See if Julia has any pictures of me and Brock together and have her post them.” She put that under step 2.

  “Brilliant. Going public with your feelings shows that you’re not afraid of what the world—or your sister—will think. Once he responds to a few texts, you need a call to action.” Ashley typed away at her keyboard with lightning speed.

  “How about inviting him Saturday for the big reveal?”

  “Perfect!”

  Sheila’s hand stilled, the marker hovering. “What if he doesn’t come?”

  “Then you’ll go after him. Remember, you’re a fighter.”

  “I’m a fighter.” She gripped the marker. “I’m doing this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Brock

  Brock was sitting on his completed deck, his shoes off and a country song playing on his phone. He should have been thrilled to complete it so soon, should have been looking for his next project. Instead, he was nursing a soda and his wounded ego. Sheila should be in the chair next to him, ready to tap their cans together in celebration. He hadn’t figured out a way to break through the wall of silence that stood between them.

  Part of the problem was that she was neck-deep in work. Every great idea he came up with, he shot down because it took time. And “time was what she didn’t have.” If he could bottle up an hour and present it to her, he’d get a smile.

  His phone dinged, and he did a double take at the name on the screen.

  Sheila: I wanted to thank you for all your help with the mascot auditions. You were amazing.

  He adjusted his ball hat. Was she wrapping up loose ends? Not as good as Juan, though. He held his breath and waited. If she joked back, he was in.

  Sheila: No one’s as good as Juan—just ask him.

  Boom! It was on. He sat forward, rubbing his sweaty palm against his cargo shorts. Before he could think of a comeback, she texted again.

  We got the official costume today. It’s legit!

  Pic?

  No way—top secret.

  He grinned. You’re the amazing one! The whole contest was brilliant.

  I couldn’t have done it without you.

  He was typing that she surely could have when the dots rolled, indicating that she was typing again.

  I miss you.

  He fell into the backrest, making the chair’s front feet lift off the deck. He could dance around the issue, but there was no sense taking a single when you could make a double play. Does Kelly know?

  IDK. I don’t care.

  He watched the three dots bounce. His heart pounded away in his chest.

  I messed up. Do you think we could try this again?

  One side of his mouth lifted, and soon the other side followed. I’d like to catch up.

  Me too.

  He threw his hands in the air and jogged around his deck as if jogging the bases after a walk-off home run. He was back at home plate, and it was the best place on the field.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sheila

  Sheila stood on the left of the stage. “I don’t know why I have to be here,” she muttered to the intern.

  He gave her a blank look. “Because Mrs. Wolfe said you had to be here.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Sheila adjusted her shirt and stood taller. Being near the stage wasn’t part of the plan. She should be up in the booth, where she could monitor the social feed and see what the world thought of their new mascot. Instead she was stuck here, in the shade, feeling like she was in the way of the people who actually had a job to do down here.

  Greg sauntered over, his light-blue button-up shirt folded over his forearms and open at the neck. It was the first time she’d seen him so casual. “Sheila! Thank you again for bringing this all together.”

  She smiled easily. Greg was a good guy. His business practices were above board, and he was more than generous in contract negotiations. “It’s been my pleasure. I can’t tell you how proud I am to have brought Rev-Aide and the Redrocks together to make all this happen.”

  He reached out, and they shook hands. “That job is always available, if you want it. Seriously, I’ll fire someone to bring you on.”

  Sheila laughed. He had a great sense of humor.

  The last finalist ran off the stage. He’d done a five-minute routine that had the fans cheering loudly. An intern ushered him behind the stage. They needed to kill about fifteen minutes while the votes were cast and tallied and the winner dressed in his or her new uniform. Harper had asked her to leave this part of the program open. She had something special planned.

  This was the first time Sheila had seen Harper in over two weeks—since she’d almost passed out at the open tryouts.

  “Thank you, Redrocks fans!” Harper lifted one arm and waved. “We’re making history right now as you cast your votes.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “This is a day that you will never forget.” She paused, laying her hand over her heart. “I will never forget. You may have been looking at the stage, but I’ve been watching you, and you’re amazing. You bring your families. You cheer for your team. And you strengthen my desire to take the Redrocks into the next season and beyond. We love you!”

  She got a loud cheer in response.

  Patting the air, she encouraged the crowd to settle down. “I have one person I’d like to extend a special thanks to.”

  Sheila clasped her hands together. “Oh no.” As proud as she was to have put this all in motion, she did not want to go on that stage. She was the one who ran things behind the scenes for a reason.

  “Are you okay?” asked Greg. “You’re pale.”

  “I’m fine,” she rasped.

  “But I’m not going to introduce her. I’m going to leave that up to someone you all know and love—our heavy hitter, Brock Mattock.”

  Brock walked onstage, wearing a blue polo shirt the exact shade of his Southern California sky-blue eyes. Sheila grabbed on to Greg’s arm for support.

  Brock said some words welcoming the crowd to the stadium and explaining what they were here to do that didn’t quite sink in. Sheila was too busy drinking him in. He was so handsome that it overwhelmed her eyes to the point that seeing was the only sense working. She couldn’t hear. Her body was numb.

  He turned her way and winked, and she was suddenly zeroed in on him, on the way his lips formed her name and his hand reached for her. Her body moved up the stairs as if she were ascending the clouds. When she got to the top, his fingers brushed her cheek.

  “Brock, I’m so sorry for the things I said.”

  He nodded, walking backward and dragging her to the middle of the stage. “Me too.”

  With the mic back to his lips, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a confession to make.”

  He turned from her to face the stands. Sheila did the same, and her face immediately burned hotter than the blacktop in July. There were so many people, and they were all looking at her! She didn’t dare check the Jumbotron for fear her face was plastered up there as well. A trickle of sweat ran down her back, and she gripped Brock’s hand, afraid she’d pass out right there if she didn’t have something real to hold on to.

  “I used to think everyone had an agenda. I know. I know. I was cynical.” He gave a self-depreciating chuckle. “But then I met Sheila. You don’t know it, but she’s responsible for all of this.” He lifted his free hand with the mic and waved it around. People cheered. “It’s because of her that Rev the Eagle even exists. And it’s because of her that we players get to talk to your children about bullying and how they can go after their dreams.”

  “My kid rocks!” screamed a mom from the lower bowl.

  Brock grinned, and Sheila laughed, covering her mouth.

  “As lucky as the Redrocks are to have Sheila, I gotta say I’m the luckiest of us all.” He fac
ed Sheila, his sun-kissed hair falling over his forehead and his gorgeous blue eyes so full it took her breath away. “I’m lucky, because I’m the guy who fell in love with her.”

  Sheila gasped. “Brock?”

  “I have always admired her from afar. She works harder than anyone I know, and her love for the Redrocks runs deep. I’m just hoping—” He adjusted his hold on her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. “—that there’s a chance you feel the same way.”

  The whole stadium held their breath. It didn’t get this quiet when there were this many people in the seats unless the National Anthem was being sung. Ever. She looked into Brock’s eyes and found the truth of his words. She felt them all the way through her soul, and everyone else disappeared. The fans. Her parents. Kelly. No one else mattered but Brock and this moment.

  She nodded, her throat too tight to share what was overflowing in her heart.

  The stadium erupted with clapping, stomping, screaming, and general chaos. People threw their popcorn in the air like confetti. All of it didn’t compare to the celebration happening inside of Sheila. Her heart jumped and spun in circles, too joyful to remain sedately beating away. Her eyes brimmed with happy tears, blurring her vision.

  Brock wrapped her up in his arms, the ones that were strong enough to support her on her worst days and tender enough to cradle her heart. She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed him—right there in front of the world. She didn’t care if it was unprofessional; it was right. Oh so right. His lips were warm and welcoming, full of a new start. She pressed herself against him, not wanting to ever let go.

  “All right, you two, save some for the locker room.” Harper shooed them off the stage, a grin as big as right field on her face. She followed behind, letting Juan introduce a video review of the past two tryouts that had brought them to this point.

  The rumble of laughter echoed around them and there were thousands of smiles in the stands.

  Sheila ducked her head, still embarrassed that she’d PDA’d with such … passion. They descended the stairs, and Brock held her close to his side. She giggled, swatting his arm. “You stole my thunder. I had a whole campaign worked out to get you back.”

  He kissed her hair. “That’s why they call me a heavy hitter. I get the job done.”

  She laughed, feeling lighter than air. “I love you, Brock Mattock.”

  He kissed her once again, lingering in the kiss to allowing the tenderness of the moment to imprint on her soul.

  “Well.” Harper clapped her hands, getting them to turn to face her. “Are we ready to introduce St. George to the new mascot?”

  Just then, the home run cannons went off, spraying confetti over the stands and grabbing attention all over the park. The middle of the stage opened up, and Rev spread his wings as he was lifted into the air. In a swoop, he did several flips through the air, earning cheers and screams of excitement.

  Sheila leaned over to Harper so she could have a private word with her. “I guess this means you’re not selling the team, then?”

  Harper flipped on her so fast her hair flew out around her like a pleated skirt. “What do you mean?”

  Sheila stumbled. She’d forgotten that she’d overheard things and Harper didn’t know what she knew. “I’m sorry. I overheard you talking to Coach about quitting. I thought if we got the team in the black, you’d stick around. The stress seemed to take a toll …” She trailed off as understanding dawned on Harper’s face.

  Harper’s hand covered her lower belly and a tiny smile appeared. “That was a private conversation about a personal matter.”

  Sheila’s eyes dropped to her hand and back up. She shouldn’t ask … but she wanted to so badly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I want to tell you, but it’s still so early.” Harper’s eyes danced. “Perhaps we could discuss a new line of infant Redrocks swag?”

  Sheila squealed and bounced on her toes. “Say no more.” She mimed locking her lips with a key. “But yes. I’d be happy to discuss new merchandising opportunities with you at your earliest convenience.”

  Harper laughed. “Fantastic! I’m on restricted activity for the off-season, so I won’t be in the office much. We’ll talk when I get back.” She gave Sheila’s arm a squeeze and headed to where Coach Wolfe waited for her at the top of the dugout. His hand went to her lower back, and he handled her with a tenderness that belayed his excitement over the pending announcement.

  Sheila glanced at Brock out of the corner of her eye as he took in the show. He’d make a great father. Maybe she was jumping the gun, but there was a connection between them that whispered of eternal possibilities, like they were written in the stars. She took confidence in that feeling and leaned her head against his shoulder.

  Her phone crackled. “Sheila?”

  Brock glanced down at her. She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t help the swelling of emotions building inside of her; she had to kiss him. So she pecked a kiss to his talented lips. Before she could lose herself in him, her phone beeped. She sighed. “Duty calls.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Sheila here.”

  “Security has a woman in custody who freaked out in the stands when she saw you kissing Brock onstage. She claims she’s your sister.”

  A worry line appeared between Brock’s eyebrows. Sheila considered him for a moment before she said, “Tell her to call her parents to bail her out.” She put the phone back into her pocket.

  Brock shook his head. “You can take care of that.”

  “Nope.” She popped the P playfully. “I’m done taking care of my sister. She’s a grown-up—a doctor, for heaven’s sake—she should be smart enough to get herself out of this mess.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Besides, I’m busy.”

  Brock’s smile interrupted their kissing at least three times, but Sheila didn’t mind. She grinned once or twice herself. They had to break apart to laugh, and then they went right back to exploring one another’s kisses. If they weren’t so happy to be together, they might get to really make out.

  “You did it,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Did what?” She ran her fingers through his hair, and he shuddered.

  “You filled the stadium. You should be proud.”

  “I am.” She tipped her head, and he deepened the kiss. Sheila was proud of herself, but not just because she’d done what she’d set out to do, to pay the outstanding loan and bring the Redrocks into a stable financial position. The real victory was getting past a bad breakup that had left scars, freeing herself from her sister’s control, and opening her heart to an amazing man.

  His hands brushed her side and then wrapped her up, and she grinned, breaking their kiss in the process. Without hesitation, she jumped right back in. They’d have time to figure out how to kiss without smiling so much later, but she hoped it didn’t happen often. The joy Brock brought into her life was something she would hold on to forever.

  For more fun and flirty baseball romance, check out

  The Athletic Groom

  If Isaac and Harper can’t work out their differences when it comes to managing the team, then they’ll lose everything important before the seventh inning stretch.

  Click here to start reading.

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