Easy Tiger: an enemies-to-lovers, small town baseball romance (The Boys of Sweetwater Springs Book 1) by Ginger Scott

Author:Ginger Scott [Scott, Ginger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2026-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Hunter

“Fucking pitchers, man. I got this all wrong.”

Roddy chuckles as he shakes his head at me during my massage. He’s getting his wrists, left elbow, right ankle, and both shoulders taped by Becca, one of our trainers. The guy is basically a mummy at this point.

I twist my head to the side to look him in the eyes.

“You know you love the attention, throwing your mask off all dramatic before spinning around with your head back to catch the foul ball behind the plate,” I say.

“Pfft, yeah, until I drop it, and the crowd is basically right fucking there!” He holds both palms out, messing up the tape job on his right shoulder.

“If you don’t hold still, I’m going to boo you,” Becca scolds.

“Sorry, ma’am.” Roddy’s shoulders sink as he locks his body back into place so Becca can finish her work. His eyes shift to me just as the masseuse digs into my scapula, and my lids flutter shut as I groan much like I did in my hotel room last night. This massage is that good.

Roddy flips me off. “Like I said. Fucking pitchers, man.”.

My massage wraps up before Roddy’s tape job is done, and I hang around the training room in my towel for a bit before heading into the locker room to take the longest hot shower of my life. Roddy’s right about some of it—I do love off days. I love on days more, though, and there’s a part of me that’s jealous as hell that he gets to suit up and take the field every other day. He played eighty percent of the games when he was up in the show, and while his body took a beating for it, I bet if I asked, he’d say it was worth every single bruise, cut, and tear.

“How about you actually come see me for the ice after the game today?” Becca pats down the edge of her final strip of KT, tape then lowers her head to look Roddy in the eyes.

“Yeah, I hear ya. It’s just so damn cold.” He slips his shirt back over his head and arms as Becca laughs and tells him, “That’s the point.”

She moves on to the next player, one of the rookie outfielders we picked up from San Diego last week, and Roddy hops down from the table, stretching out his arms to adjust to the compression from the tape.

“That Renleigh I see you walk in with today?” He gives me a sideways look, and my stomach rolls the way it did when I was a sixteen-year-old jumping out of my high school girlfriend’s window when her father came in.

“Yeah, she’s here.” I don’t offer details, but judging by the narrowing of his gaze, I sense I don’t need to.

“It was her idea, for what it’s worth.” I shrug, and he shakes his head, breathing out a slightly judgmental laugh.

“I bet it was. You forget I’m from this town and know the Blackwoods. I saw Sarah Blackwood’s Mercedes in town and at the house.

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