Pitch Please (There's No Crying in Baseball 1)

The boys chuckled as I flicked my hands out at my side, and I sighed as I made my way to Gabe.

Gabe was ready for me the moment I got there and passed me the velvet box without a word.

I took it and turned, heading back in the direction of Sway, who was standing at the top of the dugout steps watching me with a small smile on her face.

“That was a good game,” she informed me once I was close enough to hear her over the roaring of the crowd, who were still there.

I grinned.

“Yep.”

“You only got one home run, though,” she teased. “I am a little bit disappointed.”

I dropped down to one knee in front of her, and her eyes widened in alarm.

“What are you doing?” she asked shrilly.

I opened the box, and her eyes instantly filled with tears.

“Sway, will you marry me?”

Her mouth fell open, and then she threw herself at me.

Before I could react, we both fell backwards into the grass, and the crowd around us went wild.

“So, is that a yes?” I asked between her kisses.

She nodded and pushed up, using my stomach to steady herself, and I grunted as all the air left my body.

“Of course, it’s a yes!” She started to giggle. “You’re going to regret this, you know.”

“How so?” I teased.

She leaned down so her face was only inches from mine.

“You’re going to be on the front page of every single newspaper in the country,” she promised.

I pushed her up so she was still straddling my legs, but I was upright, and lifted the velvet box from the grass where it’d fallen.

“I don’t really care.”

Then I slid that ring on her finger, where it would never, ever leave again.

I looked up into those beautiful blue eyes, now filled to overflowing with tears, and said the words she probably never thought she’d hear.

“You’re the best superstition ever.”EpilogueForgiveness is divine. Telling someone to fuck off is even better.

-Note to self

Hancock

“I can’t do it.” She shook her head frantically. “I can’t fucking do it.”

“Come on. I’ll go with you.”

She shook her head faster.

“What’s that?” I asked.

She turned her head to look in the direction I was pointing, and I chose that moment to push her over the edge.

The last look I got from her before she hit the water twenty feet below us was a look of betrayal and a promise for retribution.

I followed right behind her, of course, and swam towards her the moment I got my head about me.

“Don’t talk to me, Hancock. I’m mad at you.” She turned, viciously yanking down her goggles to cover her eyes. “I cannot believe you’d push the mother of your children off a cliff. On our belated honeymoon in Hawaii, of all places.”

I chuckled as I swam up to her back, wrapping my arms around her belly as I kicked my feet to keep us both above water.

“I wouldn’t have pushed you if you’d have jumped,” I teased.

She sighed.

“I hate when you’re right,” she grumbled. “Now let’s swim down there and look at these stupid fish you want to look at.”

Then she disappeared into the clear depths, swimming toward the bottom as she turned her head left and right, taking in in the underwater scenery.

I tugged my goggles over my eyes, and fit the respirator in my mouth, and dove down, kicking my feet hard to get close to her.

My eyes stayed on her ass as I swam, and by the time I’d gotten to her, my cock was hard as a rock.

Which wasn’t too surprising. She was in a freakin’ bathing suit that left very little to the imagination.

She’d gained a little weight over our five-year marriage, but not enough to make a huge difference in her body.

She had stretch marks where before it was unblemished skin, and she had a little more of a pooch on her belly from our two kids growing inside of her, but other than that, she looked nearly identical to the day I met her.

And I could not find a single thing wrong with that.

Sway patted my arm, bringing my attention away from her ass, and to the fish that she was frantically pointing to.

I held my thumb up, and she widened her eyes behind the goggles.

The fish she was pointing at was a clownfish…the same fish that we saw on a daily basis back at our house thanks to our three-year-old little girl who was in love with all things Nemo.

She started to wiggle her arms as she shimmied in the water, and my eyes zeroed in straight for her breasts, the thin wisp of fabric that was barely containing them slipped, and her nipple popped out.

She immediately fixed it, but it was enough.

I had to have her.

Right then.

Reaching for her, I pulled her with me to a rock to steady us.