Stealing Home by Tara Wyatt

Author:Tara Wyatt [Wyatt, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tara Wyatt

Cold water dripped into Dylan’s eyes, and he brushed it away, then swiped a hand over his hair, dislodging more drops. His uniform was soaked through and stuck to his skin like glue, and he was starting to get chilly, but his discomfort didn’t matter. The kids were having an absolute blast sending him splashing into the water.

Another kid stepped up to the line for his turn, and Dylan stuck his tongue out at him, egging him on. The boy, maybe ten or eleven, narrowed his eyes and focused on the large button at the center of a bullseye, took aim and threw the baseball, which hit the metal release with a sharp ding, sending Dylan right back into the water. He popped back up, shaking his fist in pretend anger at the laughing boy.

Gripping the edge of the tank, he reset the seat and hauled himself back onto it. His cleats were ruined, but it was worth it, both for the smiles on the kids’ faces, and to be able to do Maggie a favor. He was starting to realize he’d do just about anything she asked of him if it meant a second chance at being with her. She hadn’t responded to his admission earlier that he’d never stopped thinking about her, and it had left him a little off-balance, but he was trying to remember that it was all about baby steps. And the baby step there was that she hadn’t shut him down or pulled the plug on what they had going.

“You doing okay?” Maggie asked from beside the dunk tank, looking up at him with concern.

He nodded. “Sure. Kids are having a great time.”

“I know, but you’re soaked through and that water’s not very warm. I think it’s probably time to wrap this up.” He didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his chest. His sopping wet uniform didn’t leave much to the imagination. Despite the chill on his skin, his insides heated at the feeling of Maggie’s eyes on him. He was already imagining all the ways she could help him warm up.

After the last few kids who’d already lined up had had their turn, dunking Dylan once more, the dunk tank was officially closed. He climbed out, water coursing off of him and goosebumps coating his skin. Maggie met him with a large, fluffy towel that felt like it was fresh out of the dryer, wrapped it around his shoulders and then motioned for him to follow her off the field. He did, leaving a soggy trail behind him, his wrecked cleats making undignified squelching sounds as he walked.

Maggie led him past the visiting team’s bullpen and to a small storage room. When she opened the door, a rush of warm air greeted him. He stepped inside, sighing as his muscles relaxed, the grip of cold starting to loosen.

“I thought you might be cold,” she said, reaching out and rubbing the towel against his arms.

“Thanks.” He closed his eyes for a second, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Maggie’s hands working the towel over his arms.

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