Page 53 of For The Ring

She mimics me, left hand out, “Show me?”

I reach for it, covering it with my own. My hand fully encases hers, guiding her wrist in the subtle turn that served me wellbehind the plate, but when my thumb brushes against the inside of her wrist and her breathing hitches, a soft little gasp that draws my gaze from our hands to her face, searching there for what she might be thinking.

Last night she said no and I respect that, even if I slipped a bit earlier by calling her beautiful, but she asked me to touch her just now and now all I can envision is sitting back against my headboard, Frankie resting against my chest, my body curved around her, my hand guiding hers down between her legs before begging her to show me exactly how she likes to be touched, snaking an arm around her waist to hold her to me while I watch her get herself off.

Crack!

The unmistakable sound of ball hitting bat jolts us both back to reality and I’m a little stunned at just how close we’d gotten, her nose brushing mine as she pulls away and my gaze follows hers out to the outfield, where a ball bounces off the wall in center.

One of the kids we’re here to look at, Xander Greene, fields it cleanly and fires it back in toward the infield.

“He can throw,” I mutter, standing with the rest of the crowd as the ball comes in to home, Esposito, the pitcher ,backing up the plate, but Davis receives it, shifts his weight and tags the runner smoothly. He’s out, but the play doesn’t stop there; the guy who hit it is trying to motor into second base, but Davis doesn’t hesitate, sending a missile to second to nail the runner there.

Inning over in impressive as all fuck fashion.

“Just the way you drew it up,” Frankie says with a laugh, clapping at their efforts as Davis and Esposito wait for Greene to come in from the outfield and high five him before they all disappear back into the dugout. She quickly updates her scorebook, biting her lip to tamp down her smile.

“You might be right about these kids.”

Her head lifts and her face lights up so thoroughly at that, I’m confused. Tell her she’s the most beautiful woman in any room she walks into and I get a simple thank you. Tell her she’s right about three minor leaguers’ potential to break into the big leagues next season and her smile is brighter than the shine on any World Series ring.

It’s confusing as hell. Not that I don’t approve of her priorities.

It’s just normally, if I can’t get a woman out of my head, I make a move, but that isn’t an option here.

“It’ll be a learning curve, but I think this plan of yours, it might actually work. Should we tell them the good news?”

“We’ll take them to dinner after the game,” she says. “We’ll let them know they’re going to have an opportunity this spring, no guarantees.”

The Desert Dogs are up by a run going into the late innings of the game and Esposito is cruising along.

“This kid’s stuff is fire.”

Frankie clicks her tongue. “It is, but they should pull him.”

“What? Why?”

She shows me her phone where real time game analytics are being spit out onto her screen. It feels just like it used to back when I was playing, my instincts screaming one thing at me while her data said something else.

“Spin rate is down on his slider – it’s a sign of fatigue. I don’t have access to our biometric data in the stands, but I bet his shoulder is dropping down just a little too.”

“They still aren’t making hard contact and—” I start to say that Esposito’s making the other team look silly when . . .

Crack!

The next pitch is launched deep to centerfield. Greene gets agreat read on it and makes the catch, nearly crashing into the wall as he does.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Yeah, I know, it’s really annoying,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as she says it, “how I’m always right.”

“Incredibly annoying, but I know when I’m beat. We’ll do it your way, Sullivan.”

“I appreciate that, but make sure you keep pushing back, okay?”

“What ,do you like fighting with me or something?” I ask, turning to look down at her just in time to see a flush spreading across her cheeks.

“The human element is important too. There are things numbers can’t tell you and, if I’m going to trust anyone’s instincts, I guess yours are pretty good.”