Page 85 of Make My Heart Malt

THIS IS THIRD BASE

Garrett

With Dessa tucked against my side, we continue to stroll down the tree-lined sidewalk. We’ve lost a lot of time, but I’ll spend the rest of eternity giving her the sun, the moon, and all the stars. We arrive at an opening flanked by two baseball fields and a couple of concession buildings. The field lights are off, but the streetlights illuminate the ground enough to light our way. It looks exactly how it did all those years ago. Then I freeze, and Dessa jolts to a stop.

“What the hell? They’re selling Hillside Fields?” I stare up at the giant yellow and white For Sale sign.

“Oh yeah. They’re trying. It’s been for sale for close to eight months.”

I drop my arm from around Dessa and slide through the opening of the gate and onto the field. Dessa trails a few steps behind me. My gaze wanders over home plate,past the dugout, and to the outfield. “I have a lot of good memories here. I won my first Little League tournament over on field number two.”

“And rumor has it you scored a home run with Lauren Pierson in the dugout on field one.” Dessa playfully elbows me in the side.

“Keywordrumor,and that’s all it was. She wanted to, but I turned her down. She lived up to the name base chaser. When I said no, she got cozy with Clint Walker, who was more than willing to give her what she wanted.”

I stroll behind home plate and crouch so I’m balancing on the balls of my feet, nostalgia hitting me like a sack of bricks. “For some reason, it looks so much smaller now.”

“Probably because you’re in the big leagues.”

“I also hit my first home run on this field. My parents still have the ball in my old bedroom. I should pick it up and bring it back to Seattle with me.” I stand next to home plate and swing a pretend bat. “What do you say, want to play a game?”

“Um. What kind of game? Because I don’t think a game of hide the bat is appropriate for a public baseball field.”

A deep laugh rumbles out of me. “I get you can’t keep your hands off me, but this is an innocent game of baseball.”

“It’s rarely ever innocent when it comes to you.” She side-eyes me with a playful half smile. “Wait. There’s not a bat or balls.”

I shrug and return a smile of my own. “Use your imagination. Stand at home plate and pretend you’re the batter.” My hands grip her shoulders, and I move her into position.

“What is this? Some sort of kinky role-play you’re into?”

“You’ve always had a smart mouth. Later, I’ll be sure to put that mouth to work.” I press my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “For now, just go with it, Tates.”

She rolls her eyes but does as I say. Standing next to the plate, she squares her shoulders and bends her knees, exactly how I showed her in Arizona. I stroll to the pitcher’s mound and turn to face her. “Are you ready?”

“For the imaginary pitch? Yes.” She wiggles her butt.

I laugh. I hold my fist in one hand, lift my knee, and sling shot my arm forward. She swings the bat. I yell, “Strike one!”

She drops her arms to her sides and rises to her full height. “Why was that a strike?”

“You need to be quicker than that.”

“That’s total bullshit.” She laughs.

“I’m just calling the plays like I see them.”

“But it’s imaginary! Fine,” she throws her hands in the air, “we’ll call it a strike since I swung.” She gets into the batter’s stance again.

“Also, I need my ball back.”

“But it’s imaginary.”

“I still need it for the next pitch.” Even from the mound, I can see her roll her eyes. She bends over, giving me a nice view of her ass as she picks up the imaginary ball and throws it to me. I jump and with one hand in the air, I catch the imaginary ball. “When did you get an arm? Maybe you should pitch.”

She laughs. “Just throw the ball.”

“Widen your stance a little. Wiggle your ass for good measure.” She laughs and gives it a little wiggle. “This one is going to be a curveball to the inside. Are you ready?”

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