All Wound Up Page 44
The Rivers were still at home and were ahead by two runs. As Aubry took another glance at the TV, they panned over to the dugout again, and this time she caught sight of Tucker leaning against the rail, eating sunflower seeds while talking to his teammates, and looking sexier than any man had a right to.
Her sex clenched as she recalled all the different ways he’d touched her last night, and all the times she’d come. Tucker was very . . . thorough.
She picked up her phone and looked at the time. “I . . . have to go.”
“Got a hot date with the hot pitcher?” Katie asked.
She didn’t even bother to deny it. “Maybe.”
“Can you get me game tickets?” Rick asked.
She stood and grabbed her bag, then looked down at him. “Why? Are you thinking of taking Felicia to a game?”
He smiled up at her. “Maybe.”
“Then I’ll see what I can do.”
She left the bar and headed down to the ballpark, purposely avoiding the owner’s suite. She didn’t want to have to explain to her father what she was doing there twice in one week. It was already the top of the eighth inning anyway, so it wasn’t like she’d be staying long. With an all-access pass, she could pretty much sit anywhere there was an available seat.
She chose one along the third baseline above the visitor’s dugout. It was a cool night since it had rained earlier in the day. Glad she had brought her pullover jacket, she snuggled into it to watch the last two innings. And she also had a great view of the Rivers’ dugout from here, so she could see all the players.
And Tucker.
Not that she’d come just to ogle one hot man. She’d come because the game had looked really good, and since she could get into the ballpark for free, why not, right?
That was her rationalization and she was sticking with it.
Cincinnati was still down by two runs, but the meaty part of their order was up to bat in this inning. Segundo was still pitching and continued to look strong. He struck out the first batter, the second lined out to the shortstop, and he had the third in the hole with one ball and two strikes.
Until the batter hit a fastball between second and third for a base hit.
Well, crap. She bought a soda and settled in to see if Segundo would be able to pitch himself out. He walked the next batter, probably intentionally, though he didn’t make it look that way, but she knew enough about pitching to know an intentional walk, even if he did try to make it look unintentional. The next batter up hit several foul balls and Segundo finally worked him to two balls, two strikes when Segundo took a long breather, shook off several of Sanchez’s signals and wound up. He threw the ball and the batter swung.
And missed.
The crowd stood and cheered. Aubry did, too. The pitcher had dodged a bullet, but he’d looked remarkably calm doing it.
The Rivers were up to bat in the bottom half of the inning. Sanchez was up first.
Sanchez singled just past first base, Fielding hit it right to the third baseman, so he was out. They pulled up a pinch hitter to hit for the pitcher, so it looked like Segundo’s night was over. The pinch hitter, Lopez, took a ball and a strike to start things off. Then Lopez knocked out a single into left field, which moved Sanchez to third base and Lopez to first.
Now it was getting interesting. Aubry leaned onto the edge of her seat, her heart pumping.
With one out, the top of the batting order came up. Gavin Riley was up and hit a long fly sacrifice to deep center field, which scored Sanchez but left them with two outs and Lopez still at first base. They ended up stranding him when the next batter grounded out, but they’d scored another run going into the top of the ninth.
Their ace closer came in and walked one batter, struck out two and the final batter hit a pop fly that was easily caught by Trevor Shay to end the game.
Aubry stood and smiled. Even though she’d only been there for two innings, they’d been an exciting two innings. With medical school and her internship and residency, she hadn’t taken a lot of time for baseball in the past few years. Plus, her parents had always dragged her to games, and she’d had to admit she’d grown to resent it—and the game.
Now, though? She remembered why she enjoyed baseball.
She sent a text message to Tucker. I’m at the stadium. Would you like to meet up?
It didn’t take him long to reply. Yeah. Invited to a party. Wanna come with me?
Did she? She had planned on just having him over to her place for some alone time. A party was something entirely different. It was like . . . dating. And they were most assuredly not dating.
She thought about it a minute, then shrugged and sent him a return text.
Sure. Should I meet you somewhere?
He texted her back. I’ll pick you up in about an hour.
Since she figured she’d have plenty of time because of media interviews and postgame meetings, she dashed home to take a shower and change clothes. She’d headed to the bar right after her shift at the hospital ended and she needed to freshen up. After drying her hair and putting on makeup, she chose a pair of black jeans, heels and a silk top, layering a few of her favorite silver chains over the top. She laid out her leather jacket near her purse, then perused herself in the mirror.
She shook her head. Typically, at the end of a particularly grueling work shift, she’d be home in yoga pants and a tank top, a bowl of popcorn on the side table in the living room and a book in her lap.
The woman looking back at her in the mirror? So not her.
What was she doing, anyway? What was she doing with Tucker? This was so unlike her. Her career was everything to her, and for the past several years it had been the only thing.