Conceal (The Barker Triplets 3)

Herschel was already heading out the back door, mumbling something about checking on his bees first.

Betty grabbed his cooler, along with her bag, though she took care not to bend over too far when she grabbed it. Her risqué outfit was suddenly uncomfortable and for the first time she wished she’d chosen something a little more subtle.

She straightened, kissed her father on the cheek, whispered, “I love you,” and was out the front door before she could second-guess herself even more. There was no time to change her clothes now. Besides, the only jersey she had was already on her back.

She’d made her bed and as Matt had told her earlier, she was going to have to deal with it.

Chapter Eighteen

“YOU HAVE TO admit, the Barker girls are impressive.”

Beau nodded, his foot on the top step of the dugout, eyes trained on what had to be the sweetest ass he’d ever seen. Ever. Hands down.

Betty was on deck and waved to a group of young men snapping her picture—they high-fived each other, ecstatic that the SI girl had noticed them.

Tucker shoved him and chuckled. “I was talking about the fact that those girls can throw the ball and field it better than some of the guys on the team. Not the fact that they’re both fucking hot.”

Beau cast an irritated look at his brother. “I’d keep your voice lowered. Shane Gallagher doesn’t look the type to take trash talk about his girl.”

Tucker’s grin widened. “Better turn around, Hollywood. Betty’s about to bat and damn, those shorts just don’t quit.”

Didn’t he know it. Beau’s mouth tightened as he grabbed his bat and walked out to the batter’s circle.

Beau had played four ballgames with the Angry Pirates today, this being the fifth and final. The championship game.

He’d played four games with Betty Jo Barker and her short shorts.

Four games where he’d had to endure the silent treatment from Betty, while she flirted outrageously with every guy on the team—even her sister’s boyfriends for Christ sake. And Tucker? Hell his brother had been on the receiving end more times than Beau wanted to think about, and Tucker was pretty damn happy about it.

Funny. Tucker sure as hell changed his tune significantly. No longer was Betty the junkie model. Hell, no. Betty Jo Barker was some sort of gift from the gods. A young, nubile sex pot with legs that didn’t quit, eyes that promised heaven, and a mouth that should be a national treasure.

Yes, four games where he’d watched Damon White, a former NFL star nearly drool on her, along with half the guys on the field.

He’d watched Betty work the crowd. Hell, she’d bent over countless times to, retie her laces or stretch out a calf muscle. Who the hell stretched out a calf muscle by bending over so that every guy within ten feet of her, was thinking thoughts that just weren’t right to think at a charity event?

Betty. That’s who.

He was irritated.

Irritated because she was playing up the sex kitten side of her persona, big time, and he didn’t get it. She was so much more than that. He’d seen the other side and it made him wonder why she insisted on hiding it.

He was also irritated because, Hulk, from the night before stood behind home plate and didn’t seem to give a damn that his girlfriend was playing fast and loose with every single male watching.

Christ, if she was his…

Beau stopped himself right there. Where the hell had that thought come from?

A bunch of wolf whistles and shouts went up as she settled into the batter’s box and waited for the pitch.

It was the bottom of the ninth, there were two outs and they were down by one run. He knew Betty well enough to know that she didn’t like to lose. Hell, he didn’t either, but today he’d love to win and wipe the slimy smile off the guy at catch.

His chirping was way past what was acceptable, especially considering it was a charity event, and some of the comments he’d made to Betty were just plain wrong. Beau heard them because he was always on deck and though Betty acted as if everything was fine, he could tell by the set of her shoulders that it wasn’t.

Hell, even the Hulk glared at the guy as if he wanted to crush him. There was something about the catcher, and damned if Beau could remember when he’d met the asshole.

He’d think about it later, for now he needed to concentrate. They needed to win.

The game was three-pitch, so each team pitched to their own players, giving their batters three chances to hit the ball. Both Beau and Logan Forest pitched for the Pirates, but because Beau was after Betty in the lineup, he wasn’t allowed to pitch to her.