Page 6 of Third Strike Smitten

I laugh, nearly choking on my drink. “Approach me? Please. He’s Killian Haynes. He probably has women throwing themselves at him after every game. Why would he care about some random girl in the stands playfully giving him a hard time?”

“Because you’re not just some random girl,” Tara says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “You’re a sexy redheaded temptress. And because I saw the way he looked at you after that strikeout. Dude was definitely interested.”

“Interested in shutting me up, maybe.” I chuckle trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach at the memory of his eyes meeting mine across the field. “Or maybe he was just appreciating my efforts for helping him out. What would be the point in anything else? (A) I’m not his type, and (B) I’m rarely in the same spot for more than twenty-four hours.”

“The point is fun,” Tara says, drawing out the last word. “You know that thing you used to be all about before you decided to live like a nomad with commitment issues?”

“Hey, I don’t have commitment issues. I just prefer to keep things simple.” I gesture toward the field where the players are warming up for the next inning. “That’s why baseball is perfect. You show up, you enjoy the game, and then you go home. No strings, no expectations.”

The crowd roars when Brock Adams hits a double, and I can’t help but feel a little pride in my hometown team. “Besides, I’m not exactly in the market for a baseball player…or anyone for that matter.”

“Why not a baseball player?” she asks, befuddled. “Strong arms, thick thighs, hella-tight bodies. There’s no way they’re not all sporting six-pack abs and with their athlete stamina, they can probably fuck for days.”

“Interesting observation.” I nod. “But they’re also all the same. Cocky, self-absorbed, athletic man-divas who are way too used to getting what they want.”

“Okay but just—“ Tara grabs my arm. “Imagine being married to one of those guys out there. Or even just sleeping with one, because if Killian Haynes saw me leaving the stadium after the game and asked me for a quick fuck in the back of his car, I would absolutely say yes.”

I laugh at the desperation in her voice. “And I would do what all best friends do and happily listen to you tell me every wild detail of your newfound sex life.” I grin and pass her an exaggerated eye roll. Even as I say the words though, I quickly picture in my head a sexy Killian Haynes backing me up against a wall and kissing me as his hands roam freely over my needy body. I shift in my seat, at the thought.

Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be all bad.

I’m no prude.

I’d probably say yes just as fast as Tara would, but I’d razz him the whole time and that idea makes me smile.

The rest of the game passes in a blur of cheers, home runs, and more playful heckling—though I’m careful not to single out Killian again. The Lagers end up winning 7-4, and as we file out with the crowd, I feel that familiar post-game high that comes from a good baseball experience.

“So, when’s your next flight and where are you heading?” I ask Tara as we wait for people to trickle out of our row before climbing the stairs out of the stadium.

“Thursday. Portland to Chicago to Cleveland. I think I end my night in Atlanta if the schedule actually works out. What about you?”

Just as I’m about to answer her, my phone buzzes in my back pocket. When I pull it out, I see a message from my boss.

Betsy

Isla, I’ve got an immediate opening for a semi-long-term gig. Would be roughly four to five months or so unless they make the playoffs. I’ve got someone going on maternity leave a little sooner than expected.

“Playoffs?” I mumble, staring at my phone.

“What about playoffs?” Tara asks.

“Sorry,” I gesture to my text message. “It’s my boss.”

I type back a quick response.

Me

Sure. Wherever you need me.

“It sounds like I’m traveling with a sports team of some sort. Betsy just asked if I could take a gig to cover for someone on maternity leave.

Betsy

Perfect. I’ll email you all the details. You’ll be on a plane tomorrow morning.

Me

Sounds good. Thanks.