Everybody finds themselves in a bathroom stall heaving their guts out before their first official day on the job, right? No? Just me? I ask myself how I ended up on the pitching mound for a Major League Baseball team, and the answer is always the same—Skip Mitchell and Cary Brewer.
“I’ll make your life a living hell if you don’t perform to my expectations,” Cary says. What am I? A dancing poodle? And now, there he is–sixty feet and six inches in front of me, the best catcher in baseball. Oh, he’s achieved his goal, but I doubt in the way he intends.
Tragedy never takes a holiday, and having suffered one, I’m not ready for another. When it happens, Cary is there to support me. I have a guardian angel who’s been looking out for me, and I never knew it. What I don’t know is what the future holds, and what will it cost me to pursue it—since I’ve fallen for him?
Skip Mitchell told me that his nephew is a hell of a pitcher. Seeing the kid in action proves the man right. But when I lay eyes on Cash Mitchell, my gut ties itself in knots. Ask anyone—I’m not that guy.
The attraction I’m fighting tooth and claw will only be detrimental to both of our careers. I need to get away from him, but how do I do that?
The kid has me completely under his spell, and the blue in my uniform will match the blue in my pants if something doesn’t give.
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