Page 64 of Third Strike Smitten

The thought of my brothers being here and spending time doing this with me brings back memories of our childhood. Of playing in the yard so late that Mom would have to yell at us to come in. Fuck, those were the days. Living carefree and loving the potential of a sports-filled future.

“And there’s food and plenty of it, so eat up whenever you’re hungry,” Mackenzie tells the group. Mackenzie Adams is the rare jewel in our organization because she has two pro-athlete brothers. Brock Adams plays on our team and her other brother, Kyler, plays with Shep on the Portland Rush football team. Not only that but she works as the head chef for both teams. The things she does for our organizations are incredible. There’s not a guy around both stadiums who doesn’t love and appreciate Mackenzie Adams.

Alaric steps forward, his hand raised in the air. “So, like, if I was hungry right now I could literally make a sandwich and hold it in my hand while we play?”

Mackenzie laughs but Isla nods her head. “You’re an adult. You do you, Alaric.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” He cheers before he heads right to the table to make himself a sandwich.

Paxton nods too. “Hell, yes.”

“Holding a sandwich while playing ball,” Jude says, his eyes wide and his hand over his heart. “This might be the best day of my life.”

I watch as the guys immediately swarm Mackenzie’s truck, eager to grab snacks before the game starts. Bishop catches my eye from across the field and gives me a knowing nod. I can’t help but smile back.

As I walk around the field, I catch snippets of conversation around me—guys laughing, making jokes, completely at ease. This isn’t the dugout before a game where tension hangs in the air like humidity before a storm. This is something different. Something lighter.

Something way more fun.

“Kill!” Shepherd calls out, tossing me a whiffle ball. “Think you can hit this without breaking it?”

I catch the plastic ball in my hands, laughing to myself at how unbelievably light it feels in my palm. “Can you?” I call back to my brother. “You know there’s no tackling in baseball, right?”

Isla divides us into two teams with the efficiency of someone who’s clearly thought this through. She’s got a little clipboard—where did she even get that?—and she’s making notes like a real coach.

“I’ll be pitching for both teams since…” she gestures to her leg with a quick shrug. “Running is no longer my strong suit.”

Phew.

Good.

I don’t want her getting hurt.

She checks her list and continues, “Bishop’s team is Sutton, Tara, Jude, Layton, Brock, and Sebastian. The rest of you are with Killian.”

The game starts chaotically, with everyone laughing and joking around. I take up second base, feeling oddly out of position. It’s been years since I’ve played anywhere other than the mound but instead of me today, it’s Isla in my spot. I have to admit, she looks good out there, all confidence and control. And when I realize that I now have the perfect view of her sexy little ass in those ripped denim shorts… Fuck. Me.

Let’s get this party started!

Isla winds up and throws the first pitch to Layton, who swings and misses completely.

“Well, the good news, Layton,” she calls to him, “is that the air never stood a chance.”

“Listen,” he retorts with a laugh. “This bat is shit.”

“Uh huh, blame it on the toy,” Alaric teases as we all laugh at his expense.

“Nice pitch, Coach!” I call out from behind her.

She turns to me with a wink. “Thanks, Haynesy.” She pops her hip after Carter tosses the ball back to her and asks, “Are you checking out my ass while I’m up here doing all the work?”

“You know I am,” I shamelessly tell her. “It’s the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen on the mound.”

“Oh, my God, will you listen to these two?” Sutton shouts from the dugout. “They’re so cute it’s sickening.”

“But also get a fucking room,” Bishop jeers beside her.

I cup my hand to my mouth and shout to Isla, “You hear that, Coach? Hop says we need to get a room. I’m in if you are.”