Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
No regrets, I told him. We’re in this together.
At the time, his greatest concern was for Harper and for me. After all, he’d promised us it would only be one more season and he didn’t want to break our trust in him, but there was no issue. We have it figured out. We’re a well-oiled machine when he’s away. I won’t lie and say I don’t miss him during the height of the season, but we prioritize each other. We talk every day when he’s traveling. Sexy FaceTime sessions keep the spice alive, no problem. My phone can’t even look me in the eye at this point; it’s seen too much.
Harper is doing really well too. She’s surrounded by people who love and care about her, and when her school schedule allows, we never miss the opportunity to travel and watch her dad play. She loves to see him pitch as much as I do.
Now, the crowd fades into a blurred background as I walk toward Luke—or, I’m sorry, let me try that again. The crowd fades into a blurred background as I walk toward my fiancé. My dazzling diamond ring distracts me and stops me dead in my tracks at least three times a day. I still can’t believe it’s mine.
Luke watches me approach, not even hiding the fact that he’s checking me out. His gaze lingers like a soft caress on my bare legs. It’s late summer in New York—absolutely sweltering—and I can’t be bothered to wear anything but light sundresses. Luke loves this. Easy access, he tells me.
When I reach him, he holds his hand out for mine and tugs me close, then he bends down to kiss me hello, wrapping his arm around my lower back and scooping me closer until we’re pressed together tightly. The kiss is hot—too hot for public. When we break apart, I give him a reproving glare, but he doesn’t even have the decency to look contrite. I mean, I’m panting here. He knows he’s won.
“Ready to shop?” he asks, too cocky for his own good.
“Ready.”
He motions for me to go ahead of him, and then he grabs a cart and starts pushing it along as I get distracted by a fruit display near the front entrance. I’m choosing between two sets of grapes when he casually mentions, “I think Tate’s finally met her match.”
My hand stills and I perform a slow, dramatic spin. My mouth is agape. My eyes are wide. “What? Who?”
He shoots me a mischievous smile. “Where’s the last place she’d ever look…”
Easy. I don’t even have to think. “Professional baseball.”
He raises his eyebrows, signaling I’ve hit the bullseye.
My hand flies to my mouth. No. No way. Tate would never date a baseball guy. At least, I didn’t think she would. She’s been around the sport her whole life. She’s seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. Most of Luke’s teammates are nice guys, but there are a few who fit the stereotype a bit too well: huge egos, arrogant personalities, more than a little proud of their player status off the field.
“Who?”
I’m about to grab him by the collar and shake the answer out of him.
He doesn’t immediately say, but I know. I already know because there’s only one guy on the Pinstripes who would make Luke look that troubled.
Oh, this is too good.
“Tell me everything you know…and start at the beginning.”