Delay of Game (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 1)

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Delay of Game (Dating Mr. Baseball Book 1) Page 8

by Lucy McConnell


  Elise traced the outline of her phone. “Yeah, but there’s Rex Barns. He’s had a long career—longer than most—and they’ve made it work.”

  “Maybe I’ll ask him how.”

  “Why? You thinking of getting married?” she teased.

  He glanced at her and then quickly away. “Is that so far-fetched?”

  “I-I guess not.” She looked up. “Oh! Turn here.” They pulled into her very modest home and she tried not to look at it through his eyes, but all she could see was the chipped tiles on the roof, the weathered shutters framing the windows, and the dry patches of grass.

  She fidgeted with her phone as they made their way into the house. Tripping over a catcher’s mask inside the front door, she quickly kicked it aside. “Sorry. The boys just sort of drop things when they come in.”

  “I think it’s great.” He smiled. “Makes me feel at home.”

  He ran his hand over the bat holder just inside the front door, where Jane and the boys hung their bats after practice. Their front entryway was more like a mini locker room. Elise relaxed at his statement. She wondered what his place looked like. Were there hats and mitts in all the corners?

  “Elise, is that you?” called her mom from the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “Get on in here, we’re about to light the candles.”

  Elise shrugged. “Come on.” She expected Blake to follow her, but she didn’t expect his hand to grace her back. Nor did she expect an attack of nervous giggles. Working diligently to keep herself together, she led him into the kitchen, where her entire family grinned like the kid who scooped a triple.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blake sang “Happy Birthday” knowing there was a goofy grin on his face, but he didn’t care. Elise’s family was awesome and he’d had more fun at dinner than he had in a long time. There was just something about sitting around with a bunch of people, all different ages, who cared about one another. That sense of family had been missing from his life for a long time, and he wanted it back. He planned to invite his parents to Colorado for a few days. They could see some sights, watch the games, and they’d spend the evenings together.

  But he knew that even that wouldn’t be enough. Part of what made the night stand out from all others was having his arm around Elise. He’d had his arm around enough women to know that being near Elise was something special, and he didn’t want that feeling to end.

  When he looked inside, the truth was clear. He wanted a family to come home to at the end of a long day, or even the end of the best days.

  He watched Elise as she checked Jordan’s elbow, discussing exercises that would help him speed up his fastball. He loved that the advice he’d given on the field was openly discussed around the table—that he’d been a part of the team.

  “We can paint a line on the mound out back. You can use it to make sure you line your foot up correctly when you kick,” offered Mark. Elise’s dad had been a stat sheet of information over dinner. A lot of fans had ideas about how he should play a game, but Mark’s comments weren’t full of the frenzied urgency of the mega fan. He talked as easily as any of the coaches. From what Blake had seen on the field, coaching was as much a part of being a father for Mark as scooping the ice cream at his sons’ birthday party.

  Jordan leaned across the table, his face eager. “That would be great.” He turned to Blake. “What do you think?”

  Blake nodded. “Your dad’s right on the money.”

  Mark handed Blake a plate of Neapolitan cake and ice cream. Blake grinned. Three flavors in one cake—like having triplets.

  Elise’s hand found his leg under the table and gave it a squeeze. Blake’s attention was immediately diverted to her, but she continued to talk to Jane about helmet-friendly hairdos, pretending nothing had happened.

  Maybe it was nothing for her, but now that she’d touched him, Blake couldn’t get his mind back to the conversation. Thankfully, he wasn’t called upon to offer an opinion again. Taking a huge bite of ice cream, he let the cold pull him out of his Elise-induced fog.

  “The cake was great, Jane.” Adam fist-bumped his little sister.

  She blushed as she glanced at Blake. “Thanks.”

  “It was great,” Blake threw in among the other compliments.

  Jane beamed.

  Elise’s hand found his knee and stayed there. Their eyes met and she mouthed thank you.

  He winked in response.

  “Charades!” Bryce jumped to his feet, gathering plates as he went. “We have even teams.”

  Elise’s eyes went wide. She leaned close, her almond smell filling his senses. “You don’t have to play. I can sneak you out the back if you want.”

  He put his lips near her ear. “Are you afraid to lose?”

  Shoving his chest, she got to her feet. “It is so on!”

  Jordan and Adam high-fived.

  Linda patted his shoulder. “I’m going to apologize in advance for my family—they are ruthless.”

  Blake laughed. “I think I can hold my own.”

  “I’ll get the cards.” Jane darted down the hallway. The rest of them cleared the table quickly, Linda insisting she would load the dishwasher later, and they filed into the front room. Everyone rolled a die to decide what team they were on. They ended up with Blake, Elise, Mark, and Jane on one team and the triplets and Linda on the other. Since it was the triplets’ birthday, they got to go first. Jane worked the timer, but it was obvious the three boys were in sync. They got twelve days of Christmas within twenty-four seconds.

  “Unfair advantage—it’s like hometown umpires over there,” Blake groused.

  The boys laughed.

  “We can take ’em.” Jane handed him the deck and he took the top card.

  Kiss of Death.

  Blake scratched his head and got to his feet in front of the couch. His palms were slick and he rubbed them on the front of his pants while he tried to come up with the fastest actions. When Jane said “go,” he held up three fingers.

  “Three words!” his team yelled in unison.

  He grinned, pointing to his third finger.

  “Third word,” said Mark.

  Blake pretended to stab himself in the chest and fall to the floor.

  “Murder!” yelled Jane.

  He shook his head, rolled his eyes back, and let his tongue hang out.

  “Dead,” said Elise.

  He sat up quick and rolled his hands, encouraging them.

  “Dead. Dying. Death,” she sputtered.

  He pointed at her.

  “Death,” she affirmed.

  Blake shot to his feet and held up one finger.

  “First word,” said Mark.

  Blake puckered his lips and got blank stares.

  “Sour death?” Jane made a face.

  “Three words,” Elise reminded her. “Go!” She motioned for Blake to keep trying, her eyes darting to the time.

  He pressed his lips to the back of his hand.

  “Tasting of death,” said Mark.

  Blake shook his head.

  “Thirteen seconds!” yelled Jane. “Come on!”

  Blake grabbed Elise by the shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Her shocked face registered two seconds after he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. The whole world spun as he held her in place. And then something amazing happened. Elise began to kiss him back, and it was like he was on the pitching mound in the middle of a stadium full of people, but all he could feel was her body against his and her lips as they moved against his.

  A loud buzz sounded and they broke apart, staring at each other. Blake couldn’t believe he’d done that—in front of her father, nonetheless. Yet it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Our point,” said Bryce.

  “Yeah, but he’s the one that scored,” joked Adam.

  “That’s enough,” warned Mark.

  Blake dropped his hands, not sure if Mark was talking to him or Adam.

&nbs
p; “We lost.” Elise cuffed his shoulder and took her seat.

  “Depends on how you look at it,” he said quietly as he sat next to her.

  Jane folded her arms and glared.

  “What?” He held up the card. “It was kiss of death.”

  “That’s not what it looked like,” she muttered, then tried to stifle a smile.

  “I’m up.” Linda jumped to her feet. Jane readied the timer. They got food fight.

  Next, Jane did a great impression of ironing a shirt, which Linda assured them she’d never done in her life. Everyone laughed and teased and played hard until they’d gone through both teams twice. Blake had never been in on a game night that was more serious than the playoffs. No wonder the kids all turned into athletes; their competitive natures were nurtured in a positive atmosphere. There was no name-calling, no derogatory remarks, but there was plenty of smack talk.

  Blake did his best to pay attention and win the game. On one level, he was right there, throwing out the first thing that came to mind and scrambling to guess the clues. On another level, he was back in that kiss, the attraction overwhelming his senses. He’d think he had the situation under control, and then Elise’s arm would brush his and send him into a tailspin.

  For her part, she hardly looked at him. He got the sense that she was working just as hard to focus on the game as he was—that if she let down her hyper-focus, she’d be all over him. That thought made his heart do funny things, and he ran his fingers down her arm without looking at her.

  This opened up a new game that only the two of them played—and they played it so well. When he leaned forward, her hand ran down his back. The movement was casual and yet so intense. He squeezed her shin and felt her jump before leaning back into the cushions. When it was her turn to pantomime, she used his knee to push off the couch. After she’d finished, he patted her leg for a job well done. Each opportunity to touch was taken, sending his desire to pick her up and haul her off higher and higher.

  The final score was 7 to 8, their only loss credited to Blake. Jane pouted.

  “Sorry, sis.” Blake patted her shoulder. “I promise to bring my A game next time.”

  She sighed. “You’d better, or I’m becoming a Justin Turner fan.”

  He pressed his hand to his chest. “Ouch!”

  They all laughed.

  “Do you want another round of ice cream?” asked Jordan. He rubbed his stomach as if it were hollow.

  “I’d better get going.”

  Bryce groaned.

  “Thanks, though.” He offered his hand to Mark, feeling as though he should make an effort to appear normal. Like the kiss hadn’t happened. Like he wasn’t enthralled with the man’s daughter. “I appreciate you letting me hang out with your family.”

  Mark’s eyes cut to Elise, who was busy cleaning up the cards. “We’re happy to have you. Come by anytime.” They shook hands, and Blake got the feeling Mark approved of him—perhaps not approved of kissing in the family room, but of him in general. It was a good feeling.

  Linda gave him a hug and the kids fist-bumped or high-fived him.

  Elise straightened. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “’Kay.” He put his hand on her back, unable to resist, and followed her through the entryway and out to the porch. As soon as he shut the door behind him, Elise grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her.

  Even if the two of them hadn’t been on the same wavelength for charades, they were riding the same thoughts, feelings, and intentions now. Blake gathered her up in his arms, kissing her hungrily. Elise responded with just as much need and passion. Her hands were on his shoulders, his cheeks, his neck, and his traveled from her back to her waist, pressing her against him—closing the distance and breathing heavily.

  Having satiated their thirst for one another, they slowed down, savoring the moment, the touch, and one another. He moved to kiss her neck. She sighed against him and his stomach did all those first-pitch dances.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He grinned against her soft skin. “I’ve never had someone thank me for kissing them before.”

  “No.” She swatted his arm with one hand while pulling him closer with the other. “Thanks for making my brothers’ birthday and for talking baseball with my dad.”

  He paused and pulled back to look at her. “Is this how you always say thank you?”

  She tilted her head. “Why?”

  “Because you never did thank me for the tire thing.”

  She grabbed his face and pulled him in for another hot and hungry kiss. When they were out of breath, she gasped, “Thank you.”

  He dropped his forehead to hers. “You are so welcome.”

  She laughed, a tired and contented sound.

  “Do you want to go to breakfast before we fly out tomorrow?”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes. “We can’t. No-dating policy, remember?”

  “Then what’s this?” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “A birthday party,” she sighed.

  He trailed kisses down her neck and she sagged. “Wanna have a birthday party tomorrow morning?”

  She giggled. She didn’t say no, but he knew what the answer was. Knew it and hated it all at the same time. He slid his hand down her arm and hooked her pinky. “I wish you were coming with us.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you, Blake Rygs, impair my judgment.”

  “Ah, are you saying I’m a bad influence?”

  “The worst.” She kissed his neck and his skin lit on fire.

  “What’s your number?”

  She lifted an eyebrow.

  “For emergencies only.” He lifted one hand in a Boy Scout sign.

  She laughed. “You are not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

  “Sure I am.” He nuzzled her neck, making her giggle.

  Sigh. “Give me your phone.”

  He handed it to her and she put her number in. “Emergencies only.”

  “Of course.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket.

  “You’re trouble, Blake. I can feel it all the way down to my runners.”

  He smiled. “I think I’m in trouble with you.”

  He was. This girl had him thinking about changing his plan. A plan he’d had since he made the high school freshman baseball team: A) win the state championship; B) college—on scholarship; C) minors; D) majors; E) retirement; F) family.

  All the sudden, F wanted to bump in front of E. By the time he tore himself away from Elise, the whole alphabet was in a jumble and he had one goal: her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elise sat in the same spot she’d sat while playing charades and fighting her attraction to Blake. By the time he called Jane “sis,” she knew she’d lost more than family game night. She had fallen hard for Blake Rygs, and there wasn’t much she could do about it.

  So it was probably a good thing that she was watching the Redrocks game at home with her family instead of from seats in the Rockies’ stadium, where Blake would be too close. She chuckled to herself. Blake on the mound and her in the stands was considered too close for her. If she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off of him with her family in the room, what good would a stadium full of people do to keep them apart?

  Zack Aden was about to put away the fifth inning. Which meant Blake would most likely be on the mound in a few minutes.

  “Man—I hope I never go this nuts over a girl,” said Bryce as Elise bounced her fists off her knees. “It will be nice to have him in the family, though.”

  Panic coursed through her veins. “You guys! You can’t tell anyone about me and Blake. He shouldn’t have even been here.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Dad from his recliner. He’d painted the line for Jordan on the mound, just as he promised, but he’d spent all day yesterday in the chair again. Coming out of his depression wasn’t going to happen in a day. He’d taken a bi
g step forward, though, and she hoped he could continue to improve.

  Elise scrubbed her face. “The Redrocks have a no-dating policy—well, it’s more of a Coach Wolfe rule.” She glared at the screen as they showed Wolfe in the dugout.

  Jane leaned back and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. “It’s a good thing they aren’t watching our front porch, then.”

  “Why?!” Elise flipped on her.

  “I had to wait twenty minutes to take the garbage out.” Jane gave her a meaningful look.

  Elise threw a couch pillow at her. “Quit spying on me.”

  “I wasn’t spying—I was trying to do my chores.” Jane threw the pillow back. “Don’t make out on the front porch if you don’t want people to see.”

  Elise hugged the pillow to her chest and sank into the couch, mortified. “We weren’t making out.”

  “Twenty minutes is making out,” growled Dad.

  Elise and Jane exchanged wide-eyed looks and burst into giggles. Her dad had never been the overprotective type, but he did expect them to behave. Though kissing Blake had been her most passionate experience to date, they were still within the bounds of appropriate behavior. She’d like to experience a lot more appropriate behavior with him when he got home, though.

  Struggling to bring her thoughts back to safe ground, she focused on the game.

  Blake took the mound in the seventh inning. He looked good. Loose. Limber. Hot. Oh man, did he look hot. Her thoughts went back to the porch.

  “Hey.” Bryce waved his hand in front of her face. “I said your man looks good tonight. He’s throwing insane.”

  She smiled at hearing Blake called her man, and then frowned because he wasn’t. Not really. She’d made that clear. They weren’t dating. In fact, because of her stupid big mouth, Blake was free to go out with anyone he wanted. The thought made her ill. She pressed her fists into her eyes. What was she doing?

  The game ended at eleven thirty and everyone trouped off to bed. Elise stayed on the couch, waiting to see if they would interview Blake. SPORTSNetwork started with Zack instead.

 

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