Page 35 of Stealing Kisses

“We did.” Teddy opened the driver’s door for Baylin. “And you know, I’d say she thinks that same about you.”

Baylin gave Teddy a grateful and beautiful smile. Then she pulled her door closed and started the engine while Teddy jogged around to the other side.

They dashed home, checked on animals and water levels, changed clothes, and made it to the baseball field just in time for the “Star-Spangled Banner.”

Baylin sat with Teddy in the bleachers for the first three innings. When Chief Everett called her to take right field in the top of the fourth, Teddy walked down the fence line. He cheered and heckled in good fun, enjoying his time as a spectator.

In the bottom of the fifth inning, Teddy clapped and whooped when Baylin hit a line drive between the first and second basemen. Michael Crockett, playing shortstop, wrapped Baylin in a bear hug to prevent her from advancing to third base. Teddy’s good mood disappeared.

From where he stood beyond the team bench, he couldn’t hear their conversation, but Michael’s body language left little for the imagination. His blatant flirtation and excessive hugging struck a nerve that had Teddy seeing red…and not the shade of a sweet Valentine.

Because Michael had interfered with Baylin running the bases, the score was 7–6 going into the sixth and final inning; her team had a one-run lead.

“Can I play?”

“Sorry, son?” the fire chief asked.

Teddy hadn’t needed to beg to play ball since kindergarten, but he was fully prepared to do so right then if necessary.

“I’m a friend of Baylin’s,” he explained. “I’d love to play the last inning, if you’re okay with it.”

Chief Everett hesitated and squinted to look at Teddy. Either because he’d pulled his cap down low, or because the stadium lights cast a shadow over his features, or because his usual five o’clock shadow had grown into a full-fledged beard the past few days, the older man didn’t seem to recognize Teddy.

“I need to win,” Chief Everett emphasized. “Stan’s won the past two years, and I’m tired of hearing about it every week at Sunday dinner.”

“I can help with that, sir.”

“Well, alrighty then. Where d’you want to play?”

“I’ll take center, if you don’t mind.” Teddy’s legs tingled and his feet itched to get on the field.

“It’s all yours.”

Teddy jogged out to his position, sad to see someone else had replaced Baylin. Then he heard her cheering from the stands and his heart doubled in size and rhythm. Man, would he like to hear her cheering his name at a Braves game.

The first batter on the other team hit a slow dribbler to second. Teddy could’ve gotten to the ball and thrown it to first in plenty of time, but he didn’t have the heart to throw out the young girl.

The second batter earned a walk.

The third batter popped up to third base…one out, score remained 7–6.

The fourth batter struck out swinging…two outs, still up by one.

The fifth batter happened to be Baylin’s admirer, Michael Crockett.

Crockett shouted some good-natured trash talk toward the mound. The pitcher took it in stride, winding up and delivering a pretty decent fastball. Crockett hit a foul ball down the third base line. On the next pitch, Crockett let the ball get deeper in the strike zone. Still too far in front of the ball, he pinged it off the left field foul pole. Michael should have the pitcher’s speed figured out by the third pitch. He’d likely go yard with it, hitting a home run and putting a win out of reach for Baylin’s team.

“Coach, a word?” Teddy called to Chief Everett in the dugout.

“Time, I guess,” the umpire called, not hiding his frown nor his frustration at a delay in the game.

“What do you think about me taking the mound?”

The pitcher, who turned out to be Elijah Davis’s son and the fireman Baylin told Teddy about, joined their huddle.

“Davis, Baylin’s friend here says he’d like to pitch the rest of the inning.”

“I bet he would, Chief,” Daniel Davis said with a big grin. Then he relented. “We get to watch him play center all the time; let’s see if he can pitch, too.”

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