“You’ve filled the team with talent, Dad. Hot bats and stellar pitching.”
Her father smiled. “And here I thought you were too busy with your career to pay attention to the team.”
“Oh, I pay attention. You’ve made some fine additions the past couple of years. I know exactly who plays for the team. I might not have time to come to every game, but I catch up on the scores and updates.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Wait till you see Tucker Cassidy pitch tonight. He’s a real phenom with a wicked curveball.”
At the mention of Tucker’s name, her stomach did a slight tumble. “Is that right?”
“Yeah. Best acquisition we’ve made in years.”
“I can’t wait to watch him.” She would not tell her father how well she knew Tucker. There were some things a daughter didn’t discuss with her dad.
Plus, knowing how her father felt about her dating—anyone—she didn’t think he’d appreciate knowing she was seeing Tucker.
She couldn’t even imagine that conversation. Not that she ever intended to have it with him. She’d always kept her father in the dark about her dating life. He preferred to think of her as studious and dedicated to her career.
She’d keep it that way for now. Someday, maybe when she got engaged, she’d mention there was a man in her life. Or maybe after she got married. Or possibly when she put a grandchild in her father’s arms. Then there’d be no going back, and he might be distracted by a crying baby and wouldn’t notice the guy standing next to her.
Her lips ticked up at the thought. Yeah, that was a long way down the road.
She focused on Tucker as he warmed up his arm, threw some pitches, slow at first, then with more speed as his velocity increased. He looked mighty fine in uniform, too. Even from up in the owner’s box she could appreciate the tight fit of the pants across his thighs and butt, especially when he turned away from her.
There was something so striking about Tucker in uniform, the way he took command of the mound as if he owned it. He threw the ball with authority. He had a definite presence.
She was impressed.
Her dad was right. He looked good, at least during warm-ups. The true test would be when he faced batters.
When the game began, she leaned forward, glad she was here. Not only did she need to occupy her mind with something other than the anxiety and sadness from her job the night before; she was also interested in watching Tucker pitch.
Or maybe just watching Tucker, period. She was used to seeing him in street clothes, as just a regular guy. There, on the mound, he commanded attention, all focus on him as he studied the first batter who’d come to the plate.
Tucker held the ball, his hand behind his back as he got the signal from Sanchez, the catcher. He nodded, then turned to his side, winding up for the pitch.
His form was nearly perfect as he threw the ball, which landed in the sweet spot over the plate.
The umpire called a strike, and the crowd cheered.
She looked over at her dad. “Nice curveball.”
Her father nodded. “Indeed. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
He threw another pitch, very similar to the first. It hit the strike zone and the batter didn’t even swing.
“He’s got great hands,” her father said. “Great control of his balls.”
Aubry blinked and felt her face grow warm.
Of course her father was discussing Tucker’s pitches. But come on. Great hands? Control of his balls? That had her mind careening off in directions that had nothing to do with Tucker’s actions on the mound, and everything to do with what he could do with his hands and his balls in the bedroom.
You are not a giggling twelve-year-old girl, Aubry. Get your shit together.
Still, Tucker looked so freaking hot on that pitching mound, and she couldn’t help the hot flashes. It was just embarrassing to have them around her father.
She liked Tucker’s stance, and he was just so sexy, the way he studied the batters, his gaze so intense through his black glasses. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look so fine.
Of course, it could also be that she’d seen him naked, so she knew the perfection underneath that uniform. Not that she was fantasizing about him in any way at all. Except in every way possible.
Time to stop thinking of Tucker and sex and focus on baseball.
When he struck out the batter, she stood and clapped along with everyone else in the owner’s box, effectively snapping her out of her fantasies and back into the game. Now she made herself zero in on his pitches.
The next ball was a strike—again. So impressive. It was the way he threw the ball that mesmerized her, the mechanics of it all, the way the ball seemed to arc so high, then unexpectedly drop just as it reached the plate.
Several of the batters swung and missed, or grounded out. He gave up a single in the second inning, but no runs. In the first three innings, no one on the opposing team scored.