Elise rubbed her elbows, wanting to trust Blake and not knowing if she dared.
Chapter Twelve
“Really kick your leg out in front of you before you throw.” Blake demonstrated the move in slow motion. “You’re getting it partway out there, but you aren’t getting the momentum you could.”
“Like this?” asked Jordan Smith, Elise’s little brother. Not that he’d introduced himself that way. But the three carrot tops running around baseball camp today couldn’t belong to anyone else.
Jordan did as instructed, but his toes landed to the right instead of pointing at the pitcher.
“Yeah. But I want you to do it fifteen times really slowly to get your form right before you try adding heat. You want your muscles to remember what they’re supposed to do, and learn to do it faster and harder over time.”
Jordan nodded, his red hair bouncing against his forehead under his ball hat.
Blake grinned at the sight. He couldn’t believe his luck. Jackson Kimber was supposed to work with the pitchers from the local high schools today, but because of his supposed elbow injury, Blake was asked to fill in. When the triplets filed in, he pounced like a kid waiting for his turn in the batting cages.
Elise had her brothers pegged. Bryce, the left-hander, had it all. His fastball was right on speed for his age and his curve was outstanding. Blake had taken time to point him out to the pitching coach, knowing word would spread to the scouts to keep an eye on him.
Adam wasn’t a pitcher, but that didn’t stop him from coming with his brothers. He spent the day catching. There was some hustle in his moves, but he lacked the drive the other two displayed.
Jordan, the right-handed pitcher, had a burning desire and a lot of raw talent. He supposed Jordan was often overlooked because of his southpaw brother. Blake had watched him throughout the two-hour clinic, pulling him aside for some one-on-one while the rest of the kids headed out. He walked through his windup, this time his toes pointing right at Adam’s glove.
“Good.” Blake nodded.
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Blake tugged on his hat, wondering how much to say and how much to hold back. He didn’t want to discourage Jordan, but he didn’t want to give him false hope either. “Here’s the deal.” He squatted down and drew a square in the dirt. “If this is the draft, then this tenth in the upper right corner is left-handed pitchers. This is where scouts look first.” He looked up to see Jordan chewing his bottom lip. Drawing a line across the top fourth of the square, he continued. “After that is the right-handed pitchers. And then there’s everyone else.”
Jordan nodded as Blake got to his feet.
“You aren’t here.” He pointed to the smallest section. “Which means they have an edge on you. But you could be here.” He pointed to the slightly larger area. “Which means you have an edge over all the rest.” He waved his hand over the biggest part of the square. “You need to do all you can to get as close as you can to that small square.”
“What do I have to do?” The earnestness is his eyes reminded Blake of himself at that age—“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” singing through his veins.
“Honestly? You need to add seven miles to your fastball over the next year and nail that sinker.”
Jordan’s chin dip was like a signature on a contract.
Blake threw up a hand like the third base coach holding up a runner. “Do it smart. Don’t blow out your arm.”
“My sister’s a PT—she watches out for us.” He waved his mitt to include his brothers.
Blake would bet money Elise did everything in her power to keep these guys strong and healthy. “Do exactly what she tells you to do.”
“Jordan, we gotta go!” Adam yelled from the top of the dugout stairs. He and Bryce had their gear bags slung over their shoulders.
Jordan waved to them. “I’m sorry.” He took two steps away. “It’s our birthday and we’re supposed to meet my family at Sakura for dinner.”
The Japanese place on Main Street. Blake had driven past there a hundred times and wanted to go in, but the Hibachi tables made for a fun date atmosphere, making it a place he avoided when alone. Tonight, he wouldn’t be alone. He’d be with Elise. “Sounds like fun.” A stab of homesickness hit his side. He hadn’t had a family dinner in ages.
Jordan shuffled his feet, kicking up a cloud of red dust. “You wouldn’t wanna come, would you? I think my sister would have a heart attack if you showed up. She’s a huge Redrocks fan and you’re her favorite pitcher.”
Blake stifled his smile. Jordan was talking about Jane, not Elise. But Elise might have a heart attack too—for a whole different reason. Play it cool, man. “I’ll stop by.”
“Great! It’s on Main Street,” Jordan called as he jogged over to his bag and his brothers.
Blake lifted a hand. “Happy birthday, guys.”
They hurried up the stairs and out of the stadium. Blake jogged into the locker room, showered quickly, and threw on his street clothes.
He shouldn’t go. Elise would tell him to stay away.
The risk was too great.
But she hadn’t invited him. Jordan had. And he couldn’t talk himself out of seeing her. Besides, it would be rude to not show up after giving his word. And if there was one thing Blake’s mom had drilled into him, it was good manners—and hard work.
Elise was making him work plenty hard, and he was loving every minute of it.
Chapter Thirteen
Elise sat between her dad and Jane in the Sakura lobby. The hostesses rushed back and forth and discussed seating arrangements, continually tightening the belts on their floral silk kimonos. She wondered which one was Camden’s girl.
Dad had been quiet on the ride over, but that was normal as of late. He used to chat through a whole car ride about everything from the defensive shift to the length of a player’s bat. She missed his chatter. He’d worn the new T-shirt she gave him, though. She bumped his shoulder. “You’d fit right in with the team, Dad. Your beard is coming in nicely.”
He lifted his shoulders. “Do most of them have facial hair?”
Blake’s smooth cheeks flashed through her head. She blinked the image away. “Not all of them.” It was a good thing, too. She was pretty sure a five-o’clock shadow on Blake would be really, really attractive. Like, tongue-hanging-out good-lookin’.
Her brothers piled through the door, laughing and shoving.
“Honestly, can’t you three walk normal?” asked Mom. She brushed her copper hair over her shoulder and stood up. The hostess turned towards the commotion.
“Table for seven,” said Mom.
“Eight,” said Jordan.
“Eight?” asked Dad.
Bryce shoved Jordan. “He invited someone.”
“A girl?” Elise wiggled her eyebrows. Her brothers had made a pact to swear off girlfriends their senior year and focus on ball—much to the disappointment of the senior class girls.
The triplets laughed. “No,” said Jordan.
Mom’s hand went to her hip. “All right you three, what’s going on? Who’d you invite?”
“Him.” Jordan pointed to the glass door as Blake Rygs climbed out of his convertible.
Elise grabbed Jordan’s triceps and squeezed. “You are so dead,” she hissed.
Jordan wiggled out of her hold. “I didn’t think he’d actually show.” He stared at her as she stared at Blake. “Oh my gosh—you like him!”
Blake pulled the door open. He was all calmness and polite smiles for her family, and Elise was all knots and tangles. She looked for a place to hide. The golden lion statue was half her size. Maybe if she squatted behind it?
“Hush now,” said Dad. He stepped forward to greet their guest. “Mr. Rygs, thank you so much for coming.” They shook hands.
Elise stared. Dad was taller, or straighter, or something. He used to talk to ballplayers on a daily basis. She hadn’t thought that he’d been missing the interactions. Maybe he was lonely at home.<
br />
“Thanks for the invite.” Blake smiled easily. “You have some great kids here.” He fist-bumped Jordan even as his eyes traveled to Elise.
“You probably already know Elise.” Dad puffed his chest out and Elise glowed at the pride in his gaze.
“I do, and she’s pretty amazing.” Blake’s eyes smoldered.
Elise’s neck burned and she glanced guiltily at her dad. If he only knew the thoughts that ran through her head while working on Blake. Or that she’d kissed him—and liked it!
Everyone looked back and forth between the two of them, as if they were fitting puzzle pieces together. The air grew thick with understanding, innuendos, and oh-nos.
Work and Blake.
She worked with Blake. He shouldn’t be here. All it would take was one Insta photo showing up on the wrong feed and her job would be snatched away. Elise set her jaw. She had to get him out of here.
“Your table is ready,” said the short hostess with the messy bun.
It was now or never. She hung back as the family filled in around the grill. They were already talking about their favorite sushi dishes and whether they wanted fried rice or not. Elise grabbed Blake’s arm to hold him back. Her pulse fluttered in her wrist, and she snatched her hand away. “You can’t be here. We aren’t supposed to see each other.”
Blake grinned. “I’m not here for you. Jordan invited me for their birthdays.”
She let out a low growl in frustration. “Oh yeah? Where’s your presents?”
“I’m buying dinner.”
“Um—no!” Elise wouldn’t have it. Her family may not be in the best of times, but they weren’t a charity case.
“Like I said—not here for you.” He moved past her and took the empty seat next to her dad.
She huffed as she took the only other empty seat—next to Blake. As soon as she was situated, Blake’s leg brushed against hers. She bumped it away with her knee. Blake leaned back, his wide shoulders taking up all the space between the seats and fitting quite nicely next to hers. Red-faced, she hid behind the menu.
Soon enough their server was there, asking for drink orders. They ordered waters, like always, and Mom ordered two yum-yum rolls for the table. Jane stared at Blake like he was some Greek god who landed at their table. What Elise wouldn’t give for a little Percy Jackson lightning power right now so she could shock Blake right off his smug throne. He leaned forward and his leg was next to hers again.
Rolling her eyes, she turned to watch the chef at the next table make an onion volcano of fire and tried desperately to ignore the heat spreading from her lower belly into all her extremities.
“How’s Wolfe working out?” asked Dad.
Elise smiled. Bless him for perking up for the boys’ birthday.
Blake sipped his water. “Wolfe’s coaching style is vastly different from Coach Adams’s.”
“Which one do you like better?”
Blake’s leg bounced.
Elise smiled to herself. Was he really nervous talking to her dad? That was kind of sweet.
“I like Wolfe on the field. He’s fair, has high expectations, and I think he’s going to do some good things for the team.”
“And off the field?” asked Dad.
Blake considered Elise. She held his gaze for a moment before dropping it to her plate.
“He has a rule or two I don’t agree with.”
“He already has a better record than Adams,” Dad tossed out.
“I know.” Blake leaned all the way back in his chair, his long arm sliding across the back of Elise’s seat. Like he was just too big to fit in this space meant for mortals. “We’re all happy tucking a few wins into our pockets.”
Bryce winked at her and nodded towards Blake’s arm. She shook her head and took a long pull from her straw.
“You guys might have a shot at Colorado,” continued Dad. “When are you up in the rotation again?”
“Wed night,” Jane answered for Blake.
He leaned forward and grinned at her. “Nice.”
She blushed and ducked her head.
Dad nodded. “Watch out for LeMahieu. He likes ’em on the outside of the plate and that’s your sweet spot.”
Blake nodded. “What about Blackmon?”
“He can hit anything, but cutters fluster him.”
The conversation traveled easily around the table as they discussed the upcoming series, some of the Redrocks players, and the Rockies. As the meal wore on, Elise found herself leaning into Blake. Somehow he’d slid into her family as easily as he stole third the other night. No one paid any more attention to his arm around her, and she found that it fit just right. By the time the last of the yum-yum rolls disappeared, everyone was pleasantly stuffed and languid.
Mom leaned around Dad and said, “Blake, we’re headed back to our place for cake and ice cream and would love to have you join us.”
Elise shook her head. Dinner in a public place was one thing, but taking him home was not an option. “I’m sure Blake has plenty to do to get ready for the road trip.”
They all stood just as the server came with the check. Blake took it and slid his card inside without saying a word.
“I can’t let you do that,” said Dad.
Blake grinned. “Please. It’s my way of thanking you for helping me feel at home here.” He handed the folder back to the server. She hurried off to avoid conflict.
Dad patted Blake on the back. “Thanks.”
“Thank you, sir.” He rubbed his palms together. “Did someone say cake?”
Mom laughed. Jane giggled. Elise shook her head. The man would not give up. While that was a great quality in a pitcher, it was driving her insane. Especially since she liked it. She liked having his arm around her. She liked that he listened to every bit of advice her dad handed out. She liked a lot of things about him, and there was nothing she could do about it if she wanted to keep her job. Blake was making her life difficult—on purpose! She elbowed him in the side, just for good measure. He hardly grunted.
Big muscle jerk.
Bryce pointed to Elise. “She can ride with you so you don’t get lost.”
The server handed him back his card and smiled.
“Sounds good,” Blake replied. He put his hand on her lower back and guided her to his car.
“But, I—” Elise looked for a way out, but nothing came to mind, especially since Blake’s large hand covered her lower back and burned through her shirt.
“We’ll see you at home.” Her mom waved, and a smile as wide as right field graced her cheeks. Elise hadn’t seen a smile that wasn’t weighed down with stress in ages. Tonight had been good for her, for all of them. And she had Blake to thank for that. With a resigned sigh, she climbed into his car.
Blake shut her door, walked around, and settled behind the wheel. “So your dad is a total guru.”
Elise relaxed into the seat. “He used to write for the local paper. He was good too. But he was hedged out by an ambitious guy who didn’t have a family to get in the way of his career.”
“That sucks.” He pulled out of the lot and followed her directions.
“Yeah. He used to say that baseball was his first love and Mom’s his true love.” She ran her finger along the seam of her jeans. “Tonight was great. Thank you.”
“Hey, I got some great tips. I’m gonna throw all the cutters I can at Blackmon.”
Elise laughed. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“Your dad’s got a lot going for him. Your family is great.”
“They are pretty amazing.”
They lapsed into a companionable silence for a few moments. Elise tried not to stare at Blake, but every time her eyes betrayed her, he caught her looking. She scrambled for something to say that didn’t have anything to do with the way he made her heart flutter. “Oh, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask someone: what’s up with Tuttle?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was working on his lower back yesterday and there’s th
is—” She scrunched her nose as she thought. “—cloud hanging over him. He’s playing fine, but he didn’t look fine.”
Blake shifted in his seat. “His wife just left him.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “Does anyone know why? Did he …” She waved her hands. “Never mind. It’s none of my business and I don’t want to know.”
“He didn’t cheat, if that’s what you were going to ask.” Blake stared straight ahead.
She released her clenched fists. “Sorry. I should believe the best about people. It’s just …”
“Affairs aren’t uncommon for professional athletes,” he filled in.
“Tuttle doesn’t have a reputation, though. Not like some guys.” She stared at her hands.
“You mean like me?” Blake raised an eyebrow.
Elise couldn’t look at him. There weren’t any specific stories in the press. All she had to go off of was a few warnings. Yet he didn’t seem like the type to sleep around. She wanted, so badly, to believe the best of him. “You are known as quite the ladies’ man.”
“By who? Juan?” He smiled.
“Yes, him. He warned me about you.” She shoved his shoulder. “Among others.”
Blake shook his head. “And I thought Juan had my back.”
“It’s not like you date seriously or anything.”
Blake grumbled something she couldn’t make out.
“What?”
He stared out the windshield, the smile still on his lips but his eyes full of conflict. “I always thought I’d settle down once I retired, but lately I’ve been missing my family, missing home.”
“Well, at this point, I think my family would take you over me, so …”
He smiled. “I could be traded tomorrow, ya know? I could move three or four times a season if I was sent back down to triple-A. Is it fair to ask a wife to live like that?”
She shrugged. “Players do it all the time.”
“Yeah—at what cost? Tuttle’s family is falling apart around him and he has to go to Colorado for a series. He can’t be here to work on his marriage, even if his ex was interested in making up.”
Delay of Game (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 1) Page 7
