“Let Sawyer have some fun, Erica,” Jess murmured, squeezing her arm. “Trust me, I know more about what you’re worried about than you think.”
Erica looked at her friend, searching the green eyes for understanding and actually finding it there.
Realization dawned, and Erica smiled with relief she hadn’t known she needed to feel. “Right. Mace, huh?”
“Mmhmm,” Jess said with a nod. “He keeps tabs on all his pitchers, but he seems to take a special interest in Sawyer. Sees him like a little brother.”
Erica laughed once. “Don’t tell Sawyer that! He thinks he’s the dad of the team.”
Jess gave her a bewildered look. “With Papa Jim on the team? Seriously?”
Erica shrugged, laughing again. “I didn’t say it made any sense. It’s just the fact of the thing.”
“Boys and baseball,” Jess said fondly almost to herself, shaking her head.
Erica nodded in agreement as they returned to watching the rest of the inning. Sawyer didn’t have to do much, but he seemed to love just being out there on the field in any capacity.
It was great to see him so relaxed and enjoying himself. He loved baseball, beyond his personal dedication to it, and towards the end of his college career, she hadn’t been sure he was having as much fun with it as he once might have. The Six Pack helped things, absolutely, but it had still become an obsession.
Out there, at this moment, this might have been a pickup game with the Six Pack, where the losers bought pizza for the winners.
There was something to be said for that.
Erica looked up at the score as the Black Racers returned to the dugout to bat again. “Well, I suppose we are ahead by three runs, so there is a little wiggle room.”
“Stop worrying, Erica,” Jess insisted, waving a dismissive hand as she sat back and crossed an ankle over her knee. “Sawyer will be flying high after this game, you’ll see.”
“I know,” she murmured, craning to try and see into the dugout. “He’ll be fine until he pitches again in a few days. Then he’ll go all silent and brooding and watch too much film… They’re playing the Blue Jays on his next day, so he’ll have to go up against Ryker.”
Jess hissed a little, making a face. “Ryker had a good season last year.” Then she grinned outright. “Do they still have that Six Pack bet going on? You know, if Skeeter strikes out Ryker, Ryker has to do something?”
Erica glanced at Jess in thought, then shook her head. “I have no idea. They didn’t do that when I knew them at Belltown, obviously, and since then… Well, I don’t know.”
“Find out,” her friend insisted. “If Ryker gets a piece of Sawyer’s fastball, not that I would ever root for any such thing, I’m going to want my camera out after the game.”
That seemed strange, and Erica frowned. “Why? What’s the forfeit?”
Jess blinked, then her brow furrowed. “Have you ever paid attention to when they play each other?”
Erica shrugged. “I followed the scores…”
A slow smile spread across Jess’s face, her freckled cheeks crinkling with it. “Oh, Erica… This is going to be so good.”
“Why?” Erica asked, still completely lost. “What do they do?”
Jess just shook her head. “When you get home tonight, look it up. If you know the guys as well as you think, you’ll have no problem believing what they’re capable of.”
That was a horrifying thought.
At Belltown alone the Six Pack had been capable of mischief beyond belief. Harmless, except for the one time they had taken a coach’s car for a joyride down High Street with a massive plush Lumberjack strapped to the hood.
But mostly harmless.
She was almost positive that the proof of their antics had been removed from any social media, if not from their possession, and only existed in memory and in retelling when they all got together.
Why should they have grown up simply because they had aged and moved into professional realms?
“I’m afraid to look it up,” she admitted with a laugh. “They’re probably even more creative now than they were then, and they actually have money…” She made a face and looked towards the dugout again. “Sawyer alone would be trouble.”
“Seriously?” Jess sat forward, straining in her attempt to see Sawyer in the dugout. “I wouldn’t peg Sawyer as a prankster.”
Erica applauded as Papa Jim managed to hit a double that sent two of his teammates scoring, then she folded her arms. “The first time I met Sawyer,” Erica murmured, leaning closer to her friend and lowering her voice, “he was wearing football pads and a torn-up Belltown practice jersey, swinging a bat at pitches from Cole Hunter, and wearing Grizz’s catcher’s mask.”
Jess stared at her, eyes wide. “What in the world was that supposed to do for him? I’ve never heard of training like that.”
“He wasn’t training,” Erica laughed, adjusting the wide neck of her T-shirt. “That was after practice. The Six Pack decided that their worst hitter needed more of a challenge, and Sawyer bet them all individual large pizzas that he wouldn’t be any worse.”
The memory still made Erica giggle, and Jess laughed along with her. “Any worse?” Jess repeated. “Why not be better than he usually was or hit a double or something?”
Now Erica sighed, shaking her head to herself and looking up at the bright-blue sky as she thought back. “He knew better. Cole is no pitcher, but he throws a mean ball, and, knowing his friends, he figured Cole and Grizz had a plan.”
“Did they?” Jess asked.
“Of course,” Erica replied with a snort. “Cole had picked up a decent cutter without telling him, and Grizz had been practicing with him for weeks.”
Jess covered her face, shaking her head as she laughed. “Oh my gosh. So…? Did he have to pay out?”
Erica nodded once, sitting forward as the Black Racers took the field again, Sawyer returning to left field, laughing with Creasy as he did so. “Sure did. Turns out football pads are terrible for batting practice and Cole’s cutter was way better than anyone expected.”
Jess clapped and reached into her popcorn bin for the remaining few kernels. “And why were you there? What were you doing?”
“I had been assigned by the university to be a tutor for the athletic department.” She grinned and shrugged. “And the athletic department sent me to baseball.”
“Lucky you,” Jess told her with a nudge, her mouth curving into a smile.
Erica nodded her agreement, smiling to herself as the game continued and as she watched Sawyer.
Lucky her.
Lucky then, and lucky now.
She bit her lip, a jolt of excitement hitting her gut as she considered that. She’d never thought that she and Sawyer would get back together, that they would have another chance, let alone that she would feel the same way about him as she had before.
That she would feel even more.
That she could feel more.
But here she was, and there he was.
And suddenly she was positive he could see her, even from where he was, and he tipped the brim of his cap just enough.
Erica grinned, and she felt that grin light up her heart.
Lucky her indeed.
* * *
“Oh, come on, you don’t need me here for that.”
“Of course I do! Rachel will have told Mom by now, and if I FaceTime without you, I’ll get the Spanish Inquisition on my tail.”
Erica raised a brow at him as she came back from the kitchen, water in hand, and sank down beside him on his couch, curling her legs up. “I see one of your history courses really sank in.”
Sawyer gave her a mocking laugh. “Very funny. I know some things, you know.”
“I should hope so.” She widened her eyes meaningfully. “I’d have to consider myself a terrible tutor if you didn’t.”
He shook his head and clamped a hand on her thigh with a faint slap that made her gasp, his fingers gripping tightly and making
her giggle.
“Don’t do that!” she pleaded, trying to pry his hand away as she laughed. “Please, Sawyer, I can’t…”
“So this is all about you, huh?” he demanded, intentionally twitching his fingers against her to make the tickling worse.
“No!” she squealed, falling into him, her water sloshing hard against the glass. “No, I take it back!”
He took the water out of her hand and set it safely aside, then used his other hand to drum his fingers against her ribs. “Do you? I think you meant it. I think you actually meant it, Erica.”
“Stop!” she cried as tears of mirth leaked from her eyes. “I’m begging you, babe, stop!”
Sawyer did pause, not because she asked, but out of sheer reaction to her endearment.
Babe?
He could get used to that.
Erica sighed in relief, slumping against him and the couch, her cheeks rosy and bright, her dark hair the slightest bit messy in her ponytail.
He wasn’t sure she’d ever been more beautiful to him.
“Ugh,” she groaned, shaking her head against his shoulder. “I hate when you do that.”
He grunted softly in satisfaction. “I haven’t done it in a very long time.”
She raised her head and rested her chin on his arm. “I know.” Her blue eyes seemed to dance with unshed giggles, and he gave in to impulse, leaning down to kiss her.
She arched into it, linking her arms around his neck and pulling herself more upright, her lips eagerly moving with his. Sawyer twisted more fully towards her, sliding one arm around her waist while the other slid between her shoulder blades and into her hair. His fingers slid against her scalp, and she practically purred into the kiss, making him smile against her lips.
Erica had always loved that, and it had been one of his favorite things to do. Her kiss turned tender, though her hold on him tightened, and he took his time in kissing her back, paying respect to every part of her mouth with due diligence. It stunned him how familiar this all was, and how right.
It was as if no time had passed, and yet as if an eternity had.
He’d missed this.
He’d missed her.
He broke the kiss gently, then gave her a quick encore peck for good measure.
“I forgot how much I like kissing you,” Erica whispered as she nuzzled against him.
Well, if she wanted him to ever do anything else, that wasn’t exactly a great way to start.
“Likewise,” he assured her, scratching his fingers faintly in her scalp again.
Erica craned her neck with another sigh. “Are you trying to put me to sleep, Sawyer? It’s working…”
He laughed and yanked his hand out at once, smirking at how much more disheveled her ponytail now was.
It was cute, actually.
“Nope!” he insisted, turning back and reaching for his phone and her water. “Time for the call.”
“What? No!” Erica’s hands went to her cheeks, then her hair, then back again. “I have Fresh Makeout Face! You can’t do that!”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Fresh what? You look fine. Thoroughly kissed, but fine.”
“Sawyer!”
She tried to dart from the couch, but he pulled her back, fastening her to his side and giving her a scolding look. “Erica. You’re beautiful just like this. And my mom won’t care if you look like I kissed you or not. I might get a better Christmas present if she does think I kissed you, okay?”
Erica looked skeptical suddenly. “So this is all about you, huh?”
He heaved a sigh and dropped an arm over her shoulder. “I’ll break out the cookies if you stay.”
She didn’t even think about it. “Deal,” she said, pressing the screen of his phone and expertly bringing up his mom’s number on FaceTime and starting the call.
“Huh,” he grunted. “Do you want to talk to my mom by yourself, and I’ll just go clean the bathroom or something?”
Erica nudged him hard. “I saw your bathroom, and you can’t call that cleaning. I’ll do it when we’re done.”
“You’re not cleaning my bathroom, Erica,” he insisted.
“Who’s doing what?” chirped a familiar voice from his phone.
They both looked down at the screen and saw not just his mom’s face, but that of Todd Landers, his arm draped around Sawyer’s mom just like Sawyer’s was around Erica.
Nobody said anything for a moment as they all looked at each other.
“Hi Erica,” Sawyer’s mom said with a forced yet still sincere smile.
Erica waved weakly. “Hi, Sally. Hi, Mr. Landers.”
Todd nodded, his smile possibly the worst of the group. “Hey, Erica. Sawyer.”
“Todd,” Sawyer greeted, though he probably should have gone for the respectful address Erica had instead of a simple first name.
He cleared his throat. “And hi, Mom.”
His mom’s smile warmed a little. “Hi, sweetie.”
There was another long pause.
“Well, this is awkward, isn’t it?” Todd finally said with a chuckle.
Sawyer took a good look at the guy, button-up shirt, no tie, graying hair, crisp glasses, and all. He looked almost exactly like he remembered from the Belltown days, affectionate position with Sawyer’s mom aside.
Strange how that changed things.
But, also strangely, Sawyer wasn’t exactly upset.
Erica put a hand on his knee, rubbing very gently, and he smiled at the sensation, pulling her a little closer to him. “Eh, I’ve had worse,” he commented, answering Todd’s question. “Rachel made me stand in as a dance partner when she was preparing for an audition back in high school, remember that, Mom?”
He could see the relief in his mother’s eyes and expression, and the increased pressure of Erica’s hand mirrored it.
He’d meant what he said when he first found out about Todd. He wasn’t upset about it, and he didn’t object to the guy in particular at all.
He’d just wanted to know about it.
But in spite of all that, he would do what he could to make this smooth.
Or, at least, less awkward.
The conversation quickly turned to their game that day, and Todd surprised Sawyer with how much he knew about the Black Racer players and their stats. Only when Erica and his mom begged them for a change in topic did they switch off to Erica’s museum and her assignment in Arizona. Sawyer had to smile, hearing Erica talk about the Kids Day and the field trips she got to deal with, which she clearly enjoyed more than the museum assignment itself.
She really needed to be teaching full-time with passion like that, and her adjunct position wasn’t giving her enough.
It was helping, she told him often, but she wanted more.
Todd looked at Sawyer’s mom, then said, “Well, I’m going to find something to do, and I think I heard Erica say something about cleaning a bathroom?”
Erica nodded at once. “Yep. Trust me, it needs it.”
“Hey!” Sawyer protested. “And I told you not to clean it. Come on, you did not come over to clean.”
“Too late!” she chirped, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before pushing off of the couch. “Bye, Sal! Bye, Todd!”
Todd waved and moved out of the screen while Erica practically skipped away.
Sawyer stared after her, then looked at his mom. “Apparently we need to talk.”
His mom chuckled and settled into the couch. “So it seems.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment, and then his mother sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d reconnected with Erica, sweetheart?”
Sawyer smiled at her as gently as he could. “Why didn’t you tell me about Todd?” he returned, keeping his tone kind and warm.
He wasn’t angry in any way, and he needed her to know that.
Confused, but not angry.
“I don’t know,” his mom admitted, rubbing at her neck. “I wasn’t… I didn’t… Are you upset, Sawyer?”
&n
bsp; He shook his head. “No, Mom, I’m not. I want you to be happy. If you’re happy with Todd, that’s all I want. He seems great, and his daughters are awesome, I remember. I just wish you’d told me.”
She smiled in apology. “Oh, sweetie. Todd and I took things so slowly. We weren’t even sure it was going to work or that there was anything there. It was a very gradual, natural thing. I didn’t have anything really to tell until a few months ago, and then…” She shrugged, and her eyes grew teary. “I didn’t know how you and Rachel would feel. You both miss your dad so terribly, and I think about him every day. I was afraid, and I'm sorry.”
Sawyer sat up, exhaling audibly. “Rachel and I talked, Mom. We don’t feel like you’re replacing Dad, and we don’t think Dad would want you to be alone forever. You don’t need to be sorry. Does Todd make you happy?”
The change in her smile alone gave him the answer. She looked away, probably at Todd if her smile were any indication. “Yeah. Yeah, he does. And he makes me laugh. And he actually likes doing the dishes.”
“Wow.” Sawyer whistled, shaking his head. “Tell me he likes landscaping and I’ll send him a fruit basket.”
His mom laughed and looked back at him. “He loves landscaping.”
“Okay, I’ll make the call as soon as we’re done. Deluxe fruit basket coming up.”
She laughed again. “Oh, honey. I love you, you know that?”
“I’ve heard,” he replied with a wink. “Love you too, Mom. I’ll call you after we play Cole next week, okay?”
“Sounds good, Skeeter. And you’re going to tell me about Erica then, deal?”
He barked a laugh. “Deal. Bye, Mom.” He pressed End Call, smiled, and tossed the phone onto the couch.
The faucet in the bathroom suddenly switched on, and he pushed himself off of the couch. “Erica Anne, I meant it when I said don’t clean that bathroom!”
“Too late!” she bellowed. “How about you start working on that paper you need to turn in to me?”
“We said school was off limits, woman! And maybe I’ve already started.”
“And maybe I’m Babe Ruth. Make yourself useful and start on the toilet.” She tossed a rag at him.
He raised a brow. “Do I get credit for helping my teacher clean a bathroom?”
Erica stopped and gave him an exasperated look. “If you can turn cleaning your own bathroom into some sort of legitimate cultural experience worthy of a three-page paper, I’ll give you an assignment credit, okay?”
Hitching the Pitcher Page 10
