Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Man, the stakes were a lot different as a twenty-nine-year-old man.
If you hit this ball, you get to marry Chloe.
It was a ridiculous bet to make with himself, since the outcome was impossible, but hell if he didn’t lock in on the baseball as Skylar wound up and . . . threw a pitch that was slightly off—and he didn’t swing. On instinct. “Ball,” called the baseball player acting as the umpire.
Skylar rolled her eyes, accepting the ball her teammate threw back.
Rolled her shoulder, scuffed the dirt with her cleat.
Leaned forward.
Much later, Sig would admit he got lucky. Or maybe getting to pretend the impossible dream of marrying the love of his life could come true caused him to smack the ball out into the right outfield, over the heads of the players who were clearly not expecting him to connect. Dazed, Sig stood watching the ball sail into the trees, but Sir Savage shouted at him to run and his legs took over, instinctively following the directive of the man who’d been his captain since rookie year. But he only made it past first base when all hell broke loose.
Because of course, Pierre chose that moment to come alive.
To discover a resource of energy that perhaps he didn’t know existed inside himself.
Yes.
The bulldog went sprinting through the field after the ball, like his very life depended on retrieving it. Which obviously meant Chloe went running after him in visible distress, her blonde hair coming loose from its bun, her squeals of the dog’s name echoing across the park.
Sig didn’t even hesitate—he ran after Chloe, envisioning all manner of heinous ankle breaks or violent murderers lurking in the woods, just waiting for a beautiful girl to come running straight into their trap. Nope. Not on his watch.
“Chloe!”
“Pierre! Stop!” When the dog officially vanished into the trees, his leash sailing out behind him, she made a desperate sound and ran faster. “Sig!”
Yeah, he’d be lying if Chloe reflexively calling out to him for help wasn’t the balm he needed over his aching wounds, but he’d savor it later. He passed Chloe in the race to reach Pierre before he became unfindable, breaking into the trees, winded—
Only to find the bulldog rolling around in a puddle of mud. No, sludge.
With the baseball in his mouth.
Sig had never seen the dog look happier.
“Oh no, Pierre!” Chloe panted, jogging to a stop beside Sig, planting her hands on her head. “Look at you! You’re all covered in filth. What am I going to do with you?”
The problem at hand sort of slipped to the wayside as Sig looked at Chloe, her face contoured in shadow and sunlight, her hair a windy mess, cheeks flushed. The most incredible sight he’d ever seen—at least, since the last time he’d looked at her. On top of the morning glow she was sporting, she was wearing a Bearcats sweatshirt he’d given her.
You can’t have her anymore.
You shouldn’t have taken her to begin with.
Chloe looked up at him, slumped a little. “You didn’t even get credit for your home run, did you?”
If you hit this ball, you get to marry Chloe.
If only.
“No, it counts,” he said, throat hurting. “I’ll make sure it counts.”
After a moment, she nodded. “How am I going to get him home like this?”
“In the back of my truck?” he suggested.
Their gazes collided. Heated. Tried to break free, but came right back. Fired up even more. Driving Chloe home was a Very Bad Idea. They both knew it.
“I’ll just get him inside, then go,” he said, adding, “It’s been almost two weeks since those pictures were taken. I doubt they’ve been staking you out this long.”
Chloe swallowed. “Okay.”
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the news that he’d be spending time with her, no matter how short. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I can’t think of any other way to get him home without getting mud on everything and everyone he passes.” She wet her lips. “Can you?”
“No,” he said, way too quickly. “Let’s go.” Before you change your mind.
They walked out of the trees and back onto the field, stopping in their tracks when they saw the brawl taking place in the baseball diamond. Everyone was embroiled in the knock-down, drag-out fistfight, except for Burgess who was patiently peeling men off one another and tossing them down on the ground like yesterday’s trash.
And Corrigan, who was marching away from the fray with a struggling Skylar over his shoulder. “Let me save you!” he growled at her, while she pounded on his back.
“Let’s just pretend we never saw this,” Chloe whispered.
Sig was already ushering her toward the parking lot. “Good idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chloe was laughing so hard, she tripped over her own feet into the apartment and nearly went sprawling face down onto the hardwood floor. Somehow, she managed to balance herself without touching any of the furniture with her dirty hands, turning just in time to watch Sig saunter into the apartment with a sludge-caked bulldog cradled to his chest.