Catch by Penelope Paige EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Penelope Paige
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4 MB
- Price: Free
Webber
Glove in hand, I walk towards the small, mostly grass diamond at
the back of Whitaker Park in my tiny hometown an hour west of El Paso.
These fields haven’t been cared for in nearly a decade – that’s the last time
rec teams played out here before the new facility was built.
I slide my hand inside my glove, tossing the ball into the air and
catching it with a snap each time the leathers meet.
I never missed a summer here. My dad coached my team to the finals of
the Little League World Series twice in six years.
Not surprising, though. He has three rings from the real World Series
and never fails to tell anyone who will listen.
Me? I’m just a utility infielder for the San Antonio Revolution who
pitched a little in college.
He tells everyone that too.
It’s also why we don’t really talk… at all anymore.
I toss the ball straight up and catch it a few more times, wishing I had
somebody else here with a glove but finding myself alone – again.
I whistle the opening lines of Lonely and chuckle to myself before the
echo of shoes crunching on what little clay is left hits my ears.
I spin around and find a kid – can’t be older than 9 or so – staring at me.
“I knew it. You’re him,” he says, squinting his eyes at me.
“I’m who?” I ask him, my eyes darting around for a parent or guardian
of some kind as I wait for his response.
“You’re Greyson Webber.”
“You know who I am?” Floored and maybe a bit flattered, my jaw drops
just a hair until he answers me.
“Apparently so, huh?” he shoots back with just a touch of that pre-teen,
damn you’re dumb tone.
“Who are you?” I ask, snapping my jaw shut.
“Jackson!” a distant voice yells.
My eyes snap to the kid’s face, and the oh, shit look plastered on his
face tells the tale. Whoever he is, he isn’t supposed to be over here. At least
not alone.
“Jackson Foxworth, where the hell are you, kid?”
The voice is closer now, and the kid freezes, yanking his San Antonio
Revolution hat off his head and wringing the very worn bill between his
hands.
“There you are,” the very gorgeous, very familiar man says as he hooks
his elbow playfully around the kid’s neck.
“Fox?” I ask, surprised to see the All-Star catcher here in Eaton, Texas.
“Wait. I know you,” he says, squinting at me just like the kid did.
They’ve gotta be kin.
“Greyson Webber,” I say, holding out my hand. “We’ve never been on
the field together. I just play utility. For San Antonio. The Revolution.”
Good Lord, could I ramble any worse?
Jonathan Foxworth, the backstop for Nashville’s MLB team, slides his
palm into mine and smirks. “Yeah. I’m familiar with the team.”
“Right. Yeah. Of course you are.”
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