Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (books to improve english .txt) 📕

Her unruly emotions had no time to organize before she was returning the kiss in full measure. The kisses were hungry, then soft, provocative, then tender, and she was unable to staunch the bone-melting fire that was consuming her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, ready to give him possession of her body, if not her heart.

It was only when Scarlet’s voice penetrated the fog that she jerked away. Had her sister seen the kiss? Would she tell on her?

She was racing toward them, the sand spraying beneath her feet until she came to a full stop in front of them, all out of breath.

“Allie, Mom wants to know if you want dessert and coffee? She bought a Boston cream pie.”

Another of her favorites. Her mother had gone all out, and guilt threatened. She didn’t get here as often as she should. Work consumed her, and every hour over the last couple of months had been spent in preparation for the new season. She glanced up at Mateo and smiled.

“I don’t think we have a choice. My taste buds have been put on alert.”

“We need to get back soon, anyway, don’t we? I have yet to look at the test material for my permit tomorrow.”

“Yes, and there’s a lot to study. How well do you read English?”

He spoke it almost fluently, but some found reading in a second language more difficult.

“I will get by. And you will be there to help if I need it?”

“I will.”

“Then I should be good.”

They made their way back, Scarlet beside Mateo, his arms around each of them, keeping the chill at bay.

The shivers were back hours later as she watched him wade through the manual, but it wasn’t from the cold. They were ensconced in his living room, she on the blue sofa jotting down notes for the upcoming development plans she was writing for the players, he on the white one, his forehead creased as he tried to understand the cumbersome laws he’d have to know to pass the test. She was enjoying his company entirely too much, even if he wasn’t saying a word. The silences between them didn’t seem awkward but more intimate, like they were really husband and wife, living life together.

He looked up to find her staring at him.

He didn’t let it distract him from his question. “Do I have to know all the penalties for the many violations they list?”

“Anything in the manual can be on the test, so my guess is yes.”

“There are many ways to lose your license here. In Cuba, not many at all.”

“You drove in Cuba without one, didn’t you?”

“On occasion. A friend’s car if he’d had too much to drink, for my safety more than his, to haul building materials when I could borrow a truck. The policía there are more concerned with other things and don’t bother with what they find inconsequential.”

She gave him a wry grin. “Massachusetts is always looking out for our welfare. Too much so, at times.”

He lifted the thick wad of paper held together by a binder clip, folded over on the page he was reading. “This says you must wear seat belts.”

Joking, she said, “You’ve seen Boston drivers. It’s a good idea, don’t you think?”

The joke didn’t work. His expression remained serious.

“It is something I will have to get used to.”

She raised her eyebrows in amazement. “Braving defection or switching from aluminum to wooden bats, no big deal, but wearing a seat belt, big deal.”

There was a light that went on in his eyes, one with a confident gleam.

“I can make all adjustments in baseball.”

A puff of pride swelled in her chest.

“Yes, you can. Why is that?”

“It is mental. Like a chess game, I think. You need a strategy and a game plan.”

That was an interesting take.

“And the know-how to execute it.”

“Exactly.”

“You play chess?”

Her father played and had tried to teach her when she was younger, but the lessons never took. Or maybe she just got tired of losing. He wasn’t very good at letting her win just because she was ten.

“During international competition, I would play whenever I could to keep my mind sharp.”

She’d put down her notes, her pencil seesawing between her fingers. “If you ever visit Gloucester again, you can play with my father. He’d love some new competition.”

He seemed to like that idea. “Maybe when we are on the road, I will search him out. I can’t see Seb or Rique being willing to play with me.”

“There’ll be other men on the team, you know. Keogh plays I think, and Reid might.”

“I have yet to meet many other than Reid, Rique and Seb.”

“You’ll meet them all at the wake and funeral. It’s mandatory, not that it needs to be.”

Larsen had spelled it out clearly. He wasn’t taking any chances that someone with a beef with the manager would skip the services.

“You will introduce me?”

“I’ll be there but I thought you said you were going with Seb.”

He sat back, the thick packet still clutched in his hand.

“Yes. He asked me to. He doesn’t want to walk in alone now that Mac got the managerial position.”

“He doesn’t want to face Mac alone, or Casey?”

She flashed her eyes at him, sorry she’d asked the question. How would he know what was in Seb’s mind?

He shrugged. “She was never mentioned.”

She studied his expression, but it gave nothing away. He’d promised Case he wouldn’t interfere and that what happened between the three of them and between the triumvirate would stay separate and confidential. Did he know more than what he was letting on but was keeping his word? It wouldn’t be fair to ask.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t put you in the middle of any of this. It would be too sticky if I did.”

“That is what Casey said. That you are loyal, and I might have to choose sides. I’d rather be in the middle.”

“Casey told you that?”

She didn’t usually trust anyone with the truth to