Sapphire Falls: Going Gets Hot (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 4)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “How about you?” Mike nudged Derek. “I’m betting you’re next.”

  “Says the man who fell in love in preschool.” Derek gave Mike a playful shove. “Okay, Dung Boys, let’s get them Predators and make them eat our dung.”

  The coin toss went to Peyton’s team, and Chad gladly put on the catcher’s equipment and squatted behind the plate. Besides, it gave him a better position to ogle Amber’s legs when she came to the plate.

  Sure enough, she was first at bat—unusual for the pitcher, but she truly was a softball champ in high school, although she hadn’t had time to play in college.

  “Are you going to hey batter, batter me?” She put on a batting helmet and gave him a wink.

  Gulp. When she took the batting position, her silky smooth bare legs were right in front of his face, and all he had to do to grab her ass would be to raise his right hand, since she was a lefty.

  Samantha was the pitcher and she threw a strike right across the plate.

  For some reason, Amber didn’t swing at it, and the count was zero and one.

  Samantha slung the next pitch high and wide.

  Bang. Amber swung and the ball flew high. She dropped the bat and sprinted toward first base. Her perfect ass bounced with each step, but an outfielder caught the ball for the out.

  She jogged back to the sideline, and Dr. Forster, who was on her team, put his arm around her, consoling her for the out.

  Looked like the bro-code didn’t extend to old geezers.

  Chad’s stomach turned as Dr. Forster came up to bat. He moved his mitt toward the inside, signaling to Samantha to crowd the batter.

  Samantha shook her head, and threw a ball so low it practically rolled over the plate.

  The next pitch was also a ball, a low and wide one.

  Was she purposely throwing balls to let Dr. Forster walk?

  What a kiss ass.

  Ball four came soon enough, and the older man jogged to first base. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten there with Amber last night.

  The next batter hit a popup. Chad threw off his catcher’s mask and caught the ball for the out, then shot the ball toward first base, picking off Dr. Forster who tried to run for second and then changed his mind.

  He was tagged out and gave Amber a despondent shrug.

  Whenever he had a chance, he hung onto Amber at the sidelines, always with his arm around her shoulder and making comments on the plays.

  What was going on? She seemed not to mind his attention. When it was time for the Predators to take the field, she let him pat her butt as she jogged to the pitcher’s mound.

  Chad bided his time. Watching Amber pitch was mesmerizing. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her long arm wound around fast as she let the ball go.

  She struck out the two batters before him, but he wasn’t going to let her strike him out. Swinging his bat, he eyed her, challenging her not to go easy on him the way Samantha had with Dr. Forster.

  With an uplifted tilt of her stubborn chin, Amber slung the softball out and to the right.

  “Strike one!” the umpire called.

  The next ball seemed easy, and Chad swung hard—and missed.

  “Strike two.”

  “You’re going down, Dung Man,” Amber taunted as she caught the return throw.

  “N-not yet,” Chad shouted, surprised that he’d gotten the words out with only one bobble.

  The third pitch was wide, but he reached for it.

  Smack. He hit a line drive and ran for first base.

  “Out!” one of the older men who served as the first base umpire said.

  “How did that happen?” Chad threw up his hands. He’d hit the ball so hard, he was sure it was a base hit.

  “Amber made a diving stop and threw you out,” Mike, who was playing first base, said. “That woman’s got some moves. Too bad you didn’t get to dance with her last night.”

  Chad ignored the jibe and went back to the dugout.

  Had she been working out in secret too? Those toned legs and powerful pitches meant she was no slouch, despite pretending to spend all her time in the lab.

  * * *

  The game went on to seven innings, and the score was tied seven-seven. Peyton’s team was at bat at the top of the seventh, with two outs and two on base.

  “You’ve got this.” Dr. Forster patted Amber’s behind, sending her to the batter’s box.

  She hid her cringe as she walked up swinging the bat, knowing Chad was eyeing her from behind the catcher’s mask.

  Damn. She’d struck out twice and hit fly balls that had been caught, and Chad had chuckled every time. Why did he have to play catcher and stare at her ass?

  At least he hadn’t gotten on base either, grounding out several times due to her excellent fielding techniques and striking out his last two times at bat.

  Amber took practice swings, making sure to ignore Chad. She hit her tennis shoes with the bat like she’d seen major leaguers do, and she even spat over her shoulder in Chad’s direction.

  “That’s not going to help,” Chad said.

  What? He wasn’t stuttering anymore? Since when?

  She ignored him, but her brain replayed everything he’d said since the game started. He’d communicated with his team with no problems. He’d laughed and joked with them during the water break between the fourth and fifth inning.

  In fact, he was all over a group of tourist women visiting from New York City, bragging about his job and how his mother was a Sapphire Falls native who’d moved to the City.

  “Strike,” the umpire said.

  What? She’d zoned out and hadn’t even seen the first pitch.

  Behind her, Chad chuckled as he threw the ball back to Samantha.

  Amber narrowed her eyes. What was so funny? Was her fly down? Or did she have a rip in her shorts? Was her bra strap showing?

  She stepped out of the batter’s box and examined herself. Nothing stood out, so she stepped back in, making sure to keep her face pointed away from Chad.

  She swung at the next pitch and missed.

  “Strike two.”

  This wasn’t going well at all. Chad was having too much fun laughing at her. Had the kiss meant nothing to him? Or had she underestimated him? Thought he was scared of her and nervous because he had a crush on her, when in fact he’d played her.

  Amber took two more practice swings, then stepped back into the batter’s box.

  “You can do it, Amber!” Dr. Forster shouted, clapping his hands. “Hit it out of the park. You go, girl!”

  “You can do it,” Chad mocked from behind the plate. “You go, girl.”

  She turned on him. “No distracting the batter. Umpire, kindly tell the catcher to shut the hell up.”

  “Shut up and play ball,” the umpire wheezed.

  Samantha wound up and pitched.

  Yes, a big fat pitch ripe for the picking.

  Amber swung with all her might.

  Crack!

  It was a solid hit, long and deep. She tore for first base then slowed down when the ball soared over the outfield fence.

  Yes! A home run. The score was now ten to seven, Predators!

  Amber jogged around the bases, and her entire team lined up to give her high fives.

  Dr. Forster was so excited, he picked her up and swung her around and around.

  “That’s my girl. Woohoo! That’s my girl,” he screamed into her ear, and Amber couldn’t help gagging at the stinky breath coming from his mouth.

  “Please put me down,” she said. “This is embarrassing. You’re acting like my dad.”

  “Oh, I can assure you my feelings for you are anything but fatherly.” The scientist moved in for a kiss.

  Amber expertly averted her mouth at the last minute, and he grazed her cheek.

  He acted as if nothing happened. With his arm around her, he walked her back to the dugout.

  The next batter popped up, and it was time for the Dungballs to bat.

  Three outs s
hould be a piece of cake.

  She quickly made mincemeat of Kiran and Samantha, striking both of them out. Unfortunately, Marsh scored a base hit, followed by another one by Troy, leaving men on first and third.

  Derek, the tying run, was at bat, and he was one of the best sluggers in town.

  “Time out!” Dr. Forster, who was playing catcher, called.

  He came to the mound and immediately hooked his arm around her, putting his head close to hers. “You should walk Derek. If he gets a base hit, he’ll keep the rally going.”

  “It’ll load up the bases,” Amber argued. “Then what will we do?”

  “Chad Powers is after Derek. You struck him out twice, and he grounded out the other times. Even if he gets a hit with the bases loaded, we’ll pick off one of the runners and get the third out.”

  Amber narrowed her eyes as Derek took his practice swings. He’d batted in four of the Dungballs’ seven runs.

  “Let me ask Peyton what she wants,” Amber said, twisting herself from Dr. Forster’s embrace.

  Why was the old lech so touchy-feely?

  Peyton approached the mound. “What’s he suggesting?”

  “That I walk Derek and get the last out with Chad,” Amber said. “He’s supposed to be an easy out.”

  “I’ll have to agree,” Peyton said. “Derek’s the most dangerous hitter. If he gets a double or triple, the game’s wide open.”

  “I don’t like it,” Amber said. “I hate intentionally walking anyone.”

  “Then you won’t go far,” Dr. Forster said. “You have to think strategically, like Samantha.”

  He patted her behind and swaggered back to home plate.

  What was that all about? Amber glared at the dugout. Had Samantha walked Dr. Forster on purpose every time he was at bat? What an ass lick.

  Amber was so pissed, she threw four balls, not meaning to, and got even more upset when Dr. Forster gave her a thumbs up as Derek walked to first base.

  He really thought she’d be a puppet on the string for him. The jerk.

  Still, he had control of the Haiti project, and if he badmouthed her to Mason, she could be let go.

  Amber hunkered down and prepared to pitch to Chad, the flirt who had stopped stuttering.

  Had he been faking it all along?

  The bases were loaded, and the winning run was at home plate. Only she’d strike him out and wipe that arrogant grin off his face.

  By now, a large crowd of spectators had gathered, and people whistled and shouted, “Chad. Chad. Chad. Don’t leave us hanging. Chad. Chad. Chad.”

  A large group of women screamed, waved pom-poms, and blew kisses at him.

  The umpire blew his whistle and shouted, “Play ball!”

  Amber wound up and zinged the first pitch across the plate.

  Chad swung hard and missed.

  Yes!

  She sighted the spot near his knees and delivered a low pitch designed to ground him out.

  “Strike two.”

  Amber’s cheeks scrunched with a smile. Piece of cake.

  The next pitch was a ball, and Chad checked his swing.

  She did it on purpose, of course, to keep him off balance.

  Now, if only she could get him called out. The count at one and two was in her favor.

  Turning quickly, she tried to pick off the runner at second, but he dove and touched the bag.

  She caught the ball back and narrowed her eyes at Chad, whose cheering crowd had grown even larger.

  In a battle between a hot young man and a tomboy woman, the man always had the edge. Unfair.

  She wound up and threw as hard as she could.

  C-crack!

  The bat connected with the ball. It sailed over her head—higher, higher, higher, and farther until it dropped over the outfield fence.

  The crowd roared as Amber slammed her glove on the ground.

  She wasn’t going to watch Chad round the bases, loping around waving to his fans. Nor was she going to endure the screaming women throwing themselves at him when he touched home plate.

  When his team, the Dungballs, lifted him onto their shoulders, hooting and hollering his name, Amber covered her ears and dragged herself toward her sister’s car.

  Only Dr. Forster noticed her departure.

  “Hey, Amber!” he called after her. “How about I take you to dinner in Omaha tonight? Forget about this small town for an evening.”

  She quickened her pace and ran for the car. Somehow, Chad had turned everyone to his side. Not only had he gotten a sign-on bonus from Mason, but he was now the official town hero.

  He wasn’t going to be lonely tonight—that was for sure.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chad was swept along with his teammates and members of Peyton’s team into the Come Again. Pretty women surrounded him, and everyone wanted to buy him a drink.

  The noise, the crowd, and all the shouting made him dizzy and disoriented. It was hard to catch his breath inside the muggy and crowded bar, and his ears rang from all the yelling around him.

  His last glimpse of Amber was of her running toward her sister’s car away from Dr. Forster. She seemed to have taken the loss personally and did not show up at the bar, even though Peyton and her teammates didn’t seem to mind.

  “They all want to buy you a drink.” Derek bumped his fist as he passed a pitcher of beer to him. “Let me know which one you want, and I’ll tell you her name.”

  A group of women sat at a table across from him and waved. Some blew kisses and others jutted their chests and fanned themselves as they leered at him.

  Chad averted his eyes from the overly aggressive females. Why did he feel like a piece of meat?

  Like invading vampires, the ladies hovered closer, and one bolder one asked to buy Chad a drink. Another one asked for a selfie with him, and a third one simply put her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

  Drinks were pushed into his hands, and arms hung over his shoulders. Giggles and laughter surrounded him, with women hanging over his every word.

  Dance music flooded from the speakers, and before Chad could finish his first drink, he was dragged out onto the dance floor in a conga line with a horde of beautiful women.

  This was wild. Insane. Beyond anything he’d ever known.

  And it felt good. Real good to be liked and admired.

  If only Amber could see him now, she’d for sure drop her pretending she didn’t like him and stake her claim.

  Wasn’t that what Troy had said? Women needed competition too?

  He’d crushed on her forever, and she never gave him the time of day. Now, he had more female attention than he needed.

  “You’re kissing so many women, we ought to put you in the kissing booth,” the blonde who had run the Dance Auction the night before said. “Or should we charge them right here and now?”

  “How about charge them for kissing selfies?” Derek suggested. “A shot for a selfie.”

  Shot glasses materialized on a tray, and the game was on. A shot, a kiss, and two selfies—one for the lady and one for him to text to his mother.

  Boy was his mother going to be proud of him.

  * * *

  Amber needed a stiff drink after her humiliation on the softball field, and Happy Hour at the Come Again was the place to be, according to her sisters.

  “Stop sulking.” Candi patted Amber’s thigh as she drove past the town square.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” Ginger said from the backseat. “So you gave up a grand slam home run. It’s just a game for fun.”

  “I hate losing,” Amber said. “Especially to Chad.”

  “Why? What’s up with you and Chad?” Ginger asked.

  “Nothing. His head’s gotten so big since coming to town.”

  Candi hummed and kept her eye on the road. At least she wasn’t spilling anything to Ginger.

  But no one ever accused Ginger of being clueless. Her redheaded sister simply gave her an appraising look and nodded. “Y
ou really hate him, don’t you?”

  Amber squirmed in the passenger seat as heat swirled around her belly. “I don’t hate him. Now that he’s hot, he’s gotten arrogant. I don’t know how I’m going to work with him.”

  “Uh huh. I see your dilemma,” Ginger said in a sing-song voice. “He makes you hot, and you can’t stand it.”

  “I can’t stand him,” Amber protested. “He acts like he’s better than me.”

  “He does?” Candi shot her a warning look. “What do you really want?”

  “Nothing.” Amber sulked, her lower lip trembling.

  “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Ginger jeered. “There’s nothing wrong with liking Chad. You’re both scientists, and you have common interests.”

  “I didn’t say I like him.” Amber’s heart sank like a rock into quicksand. “He’s too big for his britches.”

  “That big, huh?” Candi chuckled. “Have you actually seen him bulging from his britches?”

  “Or felt it?” Ginger teased.

  “Stop it. I mean it.” Amber blinked back tears of frustration. “He acts like I don’t exist, like he’s out of my league.”

  Candi whistled in an annoying manner while Ginger gave her the gimlet eye, trying to figure out why she was having such a severe reaction to Chad.

  “There’s a spot,” Ginger said, pointing to where a car backed out. “Can’t believe how crowded it is.”

  “It’s festival week, what do you expect?” Amber knew she sounded like a grouch.

  “Try to have a good time,” Candi said as she pulled into the parking spot.

  “Right,” Ginger agreed. “There are plenty of hot country boys from all over the county. You don’t have to pay attention to Chad if you don’t want to. As you say, he’s only a coworker to you. Who cares if everyone likes him?”

  Ginger’s speech didn’t make Amber feel better, but she knew she was being ridiculous. She was the one who started pretending the kiss she’d shared with Chad meant nothing. She’d sworn Candi and Troy to secrecy, and she hadn’t acted friendly to him because she didn’t want her coworkers to suspect they’d kissed.

  Still, it galled her that he’d dismissed her so easily, and even worse, laughed at her during her last at bat. He must have felt so vindicated to hit that home run off her.