Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” Easton replies. “You ready?”
“For?” I ask again.
“Batting cages.” He grins. Again. I swear his grin is so wide and so bright, I could see it from my front porch.
“I’ve never been to the batting cages.”
“Perfect. I can show you.” With my hand still encased in his, he leads us down a hall and through a set of double doors.
“Batting cages?” I ask when I see what’s in front of us.
“Yeah.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I wanted to share a part of who I am with you. Not Easton the major leaguer, but Easton the guy who grew up loving the sport. The guy who spent more time at the batting cages than he did anywhere else. I also thought that if Paisley ended up coming with us, she would have fun too.”
“You were serious?” I ask. I thought he was just being nice saying that P could tag along.
“Of course I was. She’s a part of you, Larissa.”
“I just thought—”
He cuts me off. “You just thought what? That I wanted to sleep with you and this was my way of getting that? I’ve already told you that’s not what this is about. What do I have to do to make you believe me?”
“I’m sorry,” I say immediately. “I shouldn’t have assumed or judged you.” I look around the room and see we’re the only ones here. “Is this place closed?”
“It is. I called in a favor. I didn’t want people pointing their cell phones at us all night. I’m used to it, but I know you aren’t and if Paisley were here, I didn’t want them to get shots of her and for her to end up in the papers too.”
“Thank you.” I’m grateful he put so much thought into this. For me and my daughter. “So, this is a first for me, Monroe. You’re going to have to show me how it’s done.” I bat my eyelashes at him like a damn fool. I can feel my face heat from embarrassment. I’m terrible at flirting, at dating.
His eyes darken. “I got you,” he says, pulling me into him. My back is aligned with his front. His lips are next to my ear when he whispers, “I’ve got moves,” he says huskily.
I shiver, not quite sure if it’s from his hot breath or the words, and the meaning behind them. His hands land on my hips and he turns me slightly to the right. Apparently, my prior embarrassment, although felt foolish, did the trick.
“Now, stand like this,” he instructs.
“Oh, those kinds of moves,” I say once I find my voice.
“Larissa!” he mock scolds. “You have a dirty mind. I would never.” He smirks when I look at him.
“Uh-huh, let’s get on with the shot, Mr. I’ve-got-moves.”
“What?” he asks innocently. “I do. I’d be happy to show them to you. All of them.”
I can’t help but laugh when he winks at me. “Show me what to do.” His eyes darken, and I have to admit I’m turned on. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually enjoyed a man’s company, and felt any kind of attraction.
“Okay, let’s start like this.” For the next two hours, we hit ball after ball. Easton positions me, stands behind me, and even hits a few with me. My body is… alive and already craves his touch. I might have even pretended I forgot what he told me a time or two, just so he would stand behind me and wrap his arms around me again.
I’m hitting round after round, and I have to admit now that I’m making contact, I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would. P would have loved it.
Easton steps back and tells me it’s my turn again. I step up to the plate and get into my stance. Holding up my bat, I give him a nod that I’m ready to go. I feel more confident this round. When the ball is released, I remember what he’s shown me. I wait until what I feel like is the right moment and swing the bat. Not only does it connect, but it also flies through the air to the back of the net. It’s my best hit yet. I drop the bat and jump up and down. “Yes!” I cheer.
Easton rushes to me and picks me up, swinging me around. Then he starts to sing “Girl on Fire” by Alicia Keys, causing me to burst out laughing.
“Don’t quit your day job,” I tease.
“It’s true. The more you hit, the better you’re getting. I’m impressed,” he says, setting me back on my feet.
I pretend to brush something off my shoulder. “You know, all in a day’s work.”
“You had enough?” he asks, laughing.
“Yeah,” I say, even though I’m not ready for our time to end.
He grins. “On to the next adventure.”