Triple Play I by Mindy Klasky

Author:Mindy Klasky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance, sexy romance, hot romance, spicy romance, baseball, sports romance
Publisher: Book View Cafe

CHAPTER 6

Anna glanced at her phone as Gregory Small slid into his seat at the conference table. “You’re late,” she said flatly.

He looked surprised. “I was on the phone with Texas,” he said.

Of course he was on the phone with Texas. It was his job to be on the phone with Texas. “And?” Anna prompted.

Small looked around the table, including the other meeting attendees in his answer. “It’s getting more complicated. St. Louis wants the kid, too.”

She wasn’t surprised. Any idiot could look at team standings and rosters and see that St. Louis would want Tyler Brock’s bat. Give it another week, and LA would be in the hunt, too.

She settled back in her leather chair, listening to the men start their dissection of the situation. Her fingers flew across the pad of her laptop, automatically taking notes even as her mind wandered.

She’d nearly been late to the meeting herself. That was the cost of lingering over a blueberry cornbread muffin at Club Joe, watching Zach drink a second cup of coffee. In the end, they’d spent all of Sunday in her apartment. They’d microwaved the remnants of breakfast after letting themselves get distracted in her bed, and then they’d settled down to watch the Rockets’ afternoon game. Together.

She’d been surprised by how different it felt to watch the coverage with a player by her side. She was used to viewing games in the owner’s suite, to the constant stream of comments from Small, from Gramps, from the wide variety of guests.

But watching the game with Zach was a revelation. Sure, he commented on how a batter was going to take a pitch, how an outfielder was going to play close to the line on a particular at-bat. But Zach’s commentary went further than that. He watched the game like a chess master, predicting actions two, three, sometimes four times down the line.

Over and over again, he called plays—a tricky hit-and-run in the bottom of the fourth, a stolen base in the sixth. He watched with a quiet intensity, a focused joy that reminded her of nothing more than his passion in bed. He gave himself over to the game entirely, without concern for how he looked when he cheered a particularly good play, for how he sounded when he cursed a boneheaded attempt to stretch a double into a triple.

Quite simply, the man lived the game.

Zach groaned in disappointment when the Rockets gave up the winning run in the bottom of the ninth. His hands clenched between his knees, as if he longed to be in the dugout, commiserating with his teammates, heading back to the clubhouse and the airport and the journey to the next city on the out-of-town stretch.

They’d ordered in Chinese and reviewed the game, taking nearly as long to discuss what had happened as the actual play had taken. And, inevitably, they’d ended up back in bed.

“Don’t you agree, Anna?”

She shook her head, looking up from her computer screen as if something had captivated her among those pixels.

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