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

the open-concept space and the kitchen was all stainless-steel, with quartz counters and white cabinets. She switched her focus to the men as they carried bags of food to the dining room table.

Rique called over, “Allie can you oversee this, please?”

“I guess I could, being superwoman and all.”

When she went over to join the twosome opening bags and extricating containers, Rique asked, “What’s up between you?”

Her eyes flashed up to meet his, a smile curling the edges of his lips. How the hell did he know? Had Seb…

“Don’t look so surprised, Allie. I know what love looks like now.”

Mateo put his arm around her, and she unconsciously rested her head on his shoulder and said,

“She’s your sky and you can take flight in her.”

She realized it not only had a metaphysical meaning but a symbolic one as well.

Rique nodded his head, a myriad of expressions crossing his face. “It’s a perfect way to describe it. When did you become a mystic?”

“Not me. Someone named Rumi.”

“Smart guy.”

Someone had switched on an audio system and Paul Simon’s Cecelia came booming out of the speakers. She hadn’t noticed the arrival of another couple of ballplayers and wives, so wrapped up in Mateo, but the looks they were getting were blatant and obvious.

Fiona had come over and grabbed the front of Rique’s shirt, taking her mind off the others. “How many people did you invite?”

“Eleven but only ten came. I wouldn’t have gone over your limit.”

She let go with a harrumph and explained, “I’m not good in crowds.”

“Talk to Allie. You’re great one on one.”

She narrowed her eyes at him as he went off to play host. Wanting to break the ice, Allie said,

“I hear you’re a scientist.”

“Yeah. Didn’t know the difference between an umpire and a referee until about a week ago. Hear you’re the guys mama bear.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know the difference between an amino acid and a double strand helix. I can imagine Rique’s surprise when he learned you didn’t walk dogs for a living.”

Fiona smiled and it lit up her face. Allie was beginning to understand why Rique had fallen for her. She was unique and she doubted he’d ever be bored.

“Mattie tell you the story? He’s a good guy. You together?”

“For today.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. I never thought I’d have a chance in hell with him for the long haul. Curiosity got me started. I mean, look at the guy. Who wouldn’t want to mess with all that gorgeousness?”

She glanced at Fiona’s fiancé, then over to her own man. They were both hot-blooded but there was only one she wanted.

“I’ve been cursed with the same kind of luck.”

“I prefer to look at it as a gift but sometimes…I worry. I am so not what he was looking for. My fear is that he wakes up one day and sees the error of his ways.”

She remembered what Mateo had told her and paid it forward. “He’s been surrounded by love his whole life. He knew what he wanted.”

“Not. He wanted a woman who could cook. He wanted a woman to stay home and cater to him. He wanted a woman who could host his parties and mingle with his friends. I can’t or won’t do any of that.”

“He might have thought that’s what he wanted, but obviously he found other things that were more important. Like brains, ambition, and goals.”

“That’s what Izabella said. I have to trust she’s right.”

“You have to trust what’s between you. The way he looks at you says it all.”

A dazed look came over her face.

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

Crazy was the perfect word for it. She was doing her own form of crazy and it was making her…nuts.

They gathered round the table to eat, the food a mix of barbeque and Latin American, while soft rock played in the background. Fiona seemed to be keeping up with it all, regardless of what she’d said about not liking crowds. She was easy to be with, didn’t lord her intelligence over them, and she could have, and her knowledge of baseball must have grown exponentially since meeting Rique. She held her end of the conversation about launch angles, curve balls and the batting line-up. The next few hours were spent talking and laughing. Once Mo Reyes and Manny Heredia got over Allie’s attachment to one of them, the looks stopped, and she felt much more at home as a partner than as part of the front office. It wasn’t as tricky a line to walk as she’d thought it would be. She was brought into the conversations about Mac, about their shot of winning the ring, about who was a sure bet for the upcoming roster, and she didn’t have to hold any cards close to her vest. She’d always been honest and open with them.

Fiona’s assistant, Bodan, sat in rapt attention, listening to the inside gossip of his favorite team, his wife chatting with the other wives as they cleaned up the kitchen.

At close to eleven, Rique began to coax them out.

“Some of us have practice tomorrow and I’ve got to get my eight hours of sleep.”

Reyes joked as he picked his coat up off the chair where Rique had dropped them, “Wait until you have kids. Eight hours of sleep will be a pie-in-the-sky dream.”

Allie knew he and his wife, Lynelle, had two, one born just six months ago. They’d only been able to join the party because Lynelle’s mother was in visiting from New York and had agreed to babysit.

Mateo suggested, “Why don’t you drop in tomorrow. See the triumvirate in action.”

“It’s an odd three-some. Usually it’s catcher, shortstop, and center fielder that forms the backbone of the team, the guys who play up the middle.”

Rique offered his opinion. “Last year’s catcher, shortstop, and center fielder didn’t get the job done, now, did they? You’ll see better days ahead with us out there.”

Fiona gave her fiancé a smirk. “See how well he does in making himself a million-dollar man? He doesn’t need me as