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

was heading back to the dugout, leaving Ovitz on second. By the time they returned to their seats, Sutherland was on the mound, Josh Holbrook was on third, Lyman Bullock was in left field, and Peter Knight was at shortstop. It made it easier to watch the play. Her heart wasn’t on the field anymore. Neither was Case’s.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Mateo felt good. There was nothing like a ball game to get him in the zone. He hoped Allie had been watching when he hit the homer. The blast had put them ahead and he hoped they stayed there. Sutherland didn’t have the same kind of stuff that Jackson did, but his curve ball was working for him, and Motts was framing the ball well. Reid wasn’t the only one who’d been pulled. They had completely changed the roster and the line-up. He’d been warned that he wouldn’t last longer than a few innings. The team had too many kids here, playing their hearts out for a spot on the team. His place might be secure, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to play every minute of the game or give it his all every time he was out there.

He was watching the play from the dugout, his arms resting on a wooden partition, Rique and Seb beside him. Seb slapped his back and said, “Great hit, bud. Tell me how you do it?”

“You get your head out of your ass and watch the ball, not for a glimpse of Casey.”

Rique had put that one out there. He wouldn’t have put it that bluntly.

Suddenly concern was etched deep on Seb’s forehead, and as he began to pace, he spilled out what was on his mind. “She didn’t have a ring on the last time I saw her. Why? Is she just not wearing it? Did she break up with him? Did he dump her? How is she? Is she hurt?” Seb was directing his glare to him, his hands fisted by his sides. It was common knowledge he was spending all his free time with Allie and if anyone knew what had happened, it would be her.

He gave away would he could. “She broke it off and she’s doing okay.”

“Did he hurt her?” Not giving him time to answer, Seb growled. “No, he wouldn’t have. Mac would have eaten him for lunch.”

“Maybe you should—”

Seb’s nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. “What? Give her my condolences? Sorry. Don’t have any to give.”

Rique said quietly, as if not wanting to further enflame the beast, “You better figure out what you want or it’s going to be a long season.”

The anger burst like a popped balloon, and Seb said sullenly, “I want her to be happy.”

Mateo wasn’t sure that was all Seb wanted. Was he blind to what he felt? Or still denying himself the chance to settle down, grow a family? He glanced over from time to time, not knowing what kind of advice to give. He knew more than he was letting on, but he couldn’t breach Allie’s trust. He’d have to stay mute on the subject until things were resolved, if they ever were.

They watched the rest of the game, and although he was restless on the sidelines, he was excited about the prospect of winning even from this vantage point. Nap was playing as if his life depended on it, the young kid from the Dominican was not having the best game of his life. He knew most of the players, knew who Allie was most excited about, knew who probably wouldn’t be making the cut this year. But she’d told him there was always a surprise, and there’d be one guy who was under the radar who would rise to the top of the current crop. He’d been watching with interest, anticipating who it was.

The game ended with the same score it had been when he lifted that ball up over the screen. No one else had been able to put the wood to the ball for more than a single, and there’d been several times men had been stranded on the bases. He wished he’d been out there to hit them home, but he’d have to be satisfied with the contribution he’d made. He was beginning to relax about his worth to the team. His mates were talented, he was having more fun out there than he’d ever had before, the fans seemed genuinely pleased that he was here, and he had Allie to warm his heart. What more could a man ask for?

Before he could escape to the clubhouse, Lyra snagged his arm. “You have reporters waiting for you. They want an interview with the man who won the game.” She all but dragged him out onto the grass where an NESN reporter waited. Before she retreated to the background, he asked, “Where’s Allie?”

She was the one who hovered during any kind of media event, and he didn’t understand why she’d sent her assistant. Lyra hurried her steps as if to evade the question, and a strange sensation began curling in his gut. His intuition was telling him something wasn’t right. There was a reason she hadn’t come for him herself. Were there more pressing issues she was dealing with that caused her absence, or was she done with him? Now that she’d accomplished her goal? He was here and he’d shown his power in the batter’s box. Was this as far as she was going with the charade? Was that what it had been for her? Were the guys right when they whispered behind his back, that the only reason she was with him was to make him feel comfortable? They didn’t know they were married, and he wondered what they’d do with that kind of information. Probably call him a fool for believing it was more…

When the reporter thrust the microphone in front of his face, he let his thoughts go and answered as if this was the only task at hand. But