Page 42 of Pitcher Perfect
Madden’s head came up again, brow drawn. “I see.”
Skylar held her breath. This is where Madden expressed his sudden realization that it had always been her—
“Jesus, I could eat another ten of these fucking sandwiches” came Robbie’s voice behind her, accompanied by his footsteps up the driveway. “That place in town called the Whistle Stop? It’s a banger. Restaurant and food market all wrapped into one. Cleaned them out of Stouffer’s lasagnas, if anybody wants one.”
It took Skylar a moment to turn around, because she couldn’t figure out why Robbie’s interruption came as a... relief? But she was forced to put that weird reaction aside for later when Robbie stopped beside her, setting down the brown paper bags he’d apparently carried half a mile... and leaned down to kiss her.
A firm, possessive kiss, his fingers sliding into her semidamp hair to cradle the back of her head, loosening her braid and tugging her head back, giving him the angle he needed to slant a second, hungrier kiss against her lips, the pleasing scratch of his beard on her chin and cheeks causing a very distinct tumble in her stomach, her eyelashes fluttering and closing against her will, the ball dropping out of her glove into the dirt.
For several seconds, she forgot their location. Their audience.
The kiss dragged her unwillingly into a semiconscious state where she couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sensuality of Robbie’s movements, their lips locked together in a firm draw, a low growl in his throat making her nipples feel tight—
“Brought you some orange juice, Rocket,” he rasped, pulling away and dropping a lighter kiss on her nose and forehead, though it wasn’t lost on her that his pupils were the size of salad plates. “No pulp.”
“Yuh?” She blinked to bring her surroundings back into focus, but life remained 50 percent blurry. God, he was a great kisser. Too good. “What?”
“Orange juice.” He nudged her forehead with his own. “Got you some.”
Mouth so close. “Oh.”
He dragged the pad of his thumb down the center of her bottom lip while wincing. “Got you a bagel, too, but I ate it. Sorry about that. My appetite is a problem.” They maintained eye contact for another several beats, before Robbie cleared his throat and cast a glance toward... Madden? Had his presence actually slipped her mind momentarily? If so, that would be a first. “Morning, Madden.” Robbie rubbed his knuckles against the small of her back. “Thanks for keeping Skylar company.”
“No worries.” Madden watched them closely, especially the movements of Robbie’s hand. “I enjoyed catching for you, as usual, Sky.”
At the use of the nickname, Robbie’s knuckles paused at the base of her spine. “Great. But I’ve got it from here.”
Skylar did a double take. “You’ve got what?”
“I’ll catch for you,” Robbie explained.
Madden’s head tilted with rare amusement. “Will you now?”
“Yup.” Jaw set with determination, Robbie walked to Madden and held out his hand. “Mind if I borrow that glove?”
“Sure thing, mate.”
Robbie appeared a little thrown when Madden handed the glove over without hesitation, but he sniffed and stuck his hand inside, nonetheless. “The fit isn’t great. My hand is a little too big.” Then louder, while looking at Skylar, “Hand. Way too big.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do this, Robbie,” Skylar called. “You’ve got playoffs coming up and everything—”
“If you’ll recall, I scored our first date by leaning into one of your pitches.”
“You’re right about that,” Madden said dryly. “Destructiveness seems to be a pattern for you.”
Robbie bowed, before dropping to his haunches. “Thank you.”
Madden shook his head and backed up.
Skylar watched the scene play out with fascination. Was Robbie an incredible actor? Or were these two men butting heads over her?
Had to be the former.
Robbie was only there to help her. And in conjunction with that kiss? His possessive boyfriend act was convincing as all get-out. He was totally earning that stolen bagel.
“Don’t hold back, Sky,” Madden said.
Robbie appeared to be grinding his jaw. “Yeah, let’s go, Rocket.” He punched the center of the glove. “My nickname is better.”
