Batting Fourth by Linda Fausnet EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Linda Fausnet
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
AMANDA
“He’s so beautiful,” I said with a sigh as I gazed up at the television
above the bar. The sports channel showed a closeup of my favorite
Baltimore Bay Bird, Rusty Power. Most people loved Brady
Keaton the best. He was the superstar of the team, and all of baseball, really.
Brady was great, but I adored the redheaded first baseman with the piercing
blue eyes.
“Rusty’s not bad,” my best friend, Wilder, said after a cursory glance at
the television. “But I think Brady’s hotter.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said with a dismissive wave. “You and everybody else. I
like Brady and all, but there’s something so sweet about Rusty.”
Wilder laughed. One of the perks of having a best friend was being able
to gush over my celebrity crush knowing she wouldn’t judge me.
I wanted to order another drink, but I would wait until Rusty’s turn at bat
was over. I didn’t want to miss a moment of his rippling muscles and sexy,
determined jaw as he stared down the pitcher.
Not that I only watched baseball for the eye candy. I was a hardcore
Baltimore Bay Birds fan, loyal to the end no matter how badly they played.
Thankfully, they’d improved a lot over the last few years.
Rusty connected with the ball, and I damn near jumped out of my seat. I
had to remind myself not to scream as loud as I would have if I was at the
ballpark. Fortunately, this bar was filled with Bay Birds fans, and we all
yelled when we saw the ball sail out of the park for a two-run homer.
No wonder they typically had Rusty Power batting fourth, or cleanup as
they called it. The hope was that one or more of the first three batters would
make it on base, and then my favorite player would drive them home.
“Sweet,” said a man who took a seat on the stool next to me at the bar in
time to see Rusty’s triumph. His buddy sat beside him. “Wonder who’s
pitching.”
“For us, Carey Allen. For Chicago, Manny Hernandez,” I answered
automatically. The guy turned to me and smiled, looking impressed. I felt
partly flattered and partly annoyed that he seemed surprised by my
knowledge of baseball. Plenty of women were into sports.
“Thanks,” the good-looking guy with dark hair and blue eyes said. “I’m
Jake.”
“Amanda,” I said with a smile.
He glanced up at the TV. “I think the Birds got a shot this year. I really
do. I mean, maybe not all the way to the World Series just yet.”
“Agreed. Like maybe the playoffs? The Wild Card at the very least?”
“I’d drink to that, but I’m not prepared yet,” Jake said with a sexy grin.
The bartender finally noticed him and came over to take his drink order.
“Damn,” Wilder muttered as she watched Matt Jovey ground out to end
the inning.
“You a baseball fan too?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. But not near as much as Amanda,” she said, tipping her beer
bottle my way.
“You been to any games this year?” He seemed to address the question to
both of us.
“Nah,” Wilder said. “Not yet.”
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