She forced a smile, waved, and signaled she'd heard him. "Be right there."
Risk ground his teeth. "Stop flirting with Romeo."
"A wave is not flirting."
"The way you wave, it's an invitation for sex."
Jacy stood her ground. "I find him nice and fun and—"
"He'll break your heart."
"Maybe he'll fall in love."
Risk shook his head, released her arm and jogged toward center field.
Jacy scuffed her feet all the way to the dugout. The only person capable of hurting her was Risk Kincaid. She'd foolishly alienated him with her smart mouth.
"Let me help you select a bat." Romeo left third base to assist her.
"You're on the opposing team," Jacy reminded him.
Romeo shrugged and selected a bat. "Should be light enough."
He snugged up behind her, positioning her hands on the bat, giving her a quick lesson in swinging. His body was warm against hers, sending heat along her spine; a warmth that contrasted greatly with Risk Kincaid's own heat. Risk turned her on. Romeo smothered her. She wiggled free and approached home plate. She turned to face the pitcher.
Aaron Grayson stood on the mound, his gaze dark, his jaw taut. Jacy sensed his anger; an anger that had nothing to do with the softball game, but everything to do with Natalie's interest in Zen Driscoll. His fiancee openly tracked the shortstop. Zen wasn't fazed. His gaze continually cut to Stevie Cole as she organized her team and rattled off the rules.
Facing Aaron now, Jacy released a breath. She wasn't athletic and didn't stand much chance of hitting the ball. She had no chance whatsoever of making it to first base if she did.
"Hit the ball, Jacy!" Stevie called from the dugout. "Knock it out of the park." Stevie had more faith in her ability than Jacy herself.
Jacy took a practice swing, glanced over her shoulder at Chaser, the catcher for the Rogues. She licked her lips and asked, "How's my swing?"
"Like you work in a coffee shop."
Great. She swung wildly at the first pitch. "Strike one!" The umpire yelled so loudly, Jacy jumped a foot.
Romeo left third and jogged toward her. "Aaron's pitching high. Swing at boob level," he whispered in her ear before returning to his base.
Boob level. Jacy took his advice and popped a fly ball to third. Romeo feigned sun in his eyes and miscalculated his catch. Jacy took off for first. She ran so fast she kicked up dust. The crowd cheered her on.
"Throw the friggin' ball," the first baseman shouted to Romeo.
Romeo collected himself. Tossed the ball underhand toward first, allowing Jacy enough time to touch the base. She jumped up and down on the bag. In her excitement, she blew Romeo a kiss.
The kiss was witnessed by the entire park. Including Risk Kincaid. He had a sudden need to pound Romeo into the ground.
He was such a fool. He'd allowed Sherry Sherman to step on Jacy's toes. Sherry now assumed their past could be recaptured in an afternoon. She was dead wrong. The only woman Risk wanted in his life was Jacy Grayson. He needed to make amends before Romeo succeeded in charming her any further.
Two local ringers followed Jacy: the high school baseball coach and his assistant. They both got on base. Jacy now stood on third. Where Romeo crowded her.
Risk swore Romeo rubbed himself against her. Sniffed her hair.
Stevie batted next. She slammed the ball past Zen Driscoll. Risk was certain that if Zen had stretched an extra inch, Stevie would have been out. The second the ball passed Zen, Jacy took off for home. She looked damn fine in her baseball jersey, Bermudas, and straw hat. Her blond hair was wild about her face. Her bright tangerine shoelaces flapped, untied. She'd be tripping over herself if she wasn't careful. Risk didn't want her to fall.
Jacy scored the first run for Frostproof's Finest. Two additional runs followed before the inning came to an end.
This time when Risk passed Jacy in the outfield, he pointed toward her high-tops. "Tie them," he told her.
She tied the laces in double bows.
The innings passed quickly. By the ninth, Frost-proof's Finest and the major leaguers had a tie score. Risk found himself at bat at the bottom of the ninth, with two outs. The exact position he'd faced in the World Series. Yet with a lot less pressure.
"Home run, Kincaid!" the crowd chanted.
Dozens of young boys lined the fence, waiting for their chance to snag the winning ball. He looked at Jacy Grayson. His woman was not an athlete. Sunburned, shoulders slumped, she'd wilted in the heat. She'd never forgive him if he slammed a home run over her head.
Stevie's first pitch was high. Her second low. A little too low for Risk's liking, yet he swung. He knew the second he connected, he'd pulled the ball. Instead of flying right, the moon shot popped straight for center field.
Straight toward Jacy.
Risk took off for first, slowing as he rounded the base, watching as Jacy caught her second wind. The flash of her shoelaces flying out behind her gave him pause. She'd retied those laces every inning, yet the bows continually loosened.
He hit second just as she tripped. She was suddenly as airborne as the softball. She seemed to fall in slow motion. She went down with her arms outstretched, her gaze never leaving the fly ball. Miracle of all miracles, his moon shot dropped into her mitt.
Risk was out.
The explosion of applause echoed for miles. The hometown sweetheart had taken down the major lea-guer. Risk's stomach clenched as Jacy lay sprawled, face down on the grass. Her straw hat was crushed beneath her hip. Not a muscle moved.
Damn shoelaces!
He cut across the field at an all-out run. Romeo, Psycho, and Aaron were on his heels, with Stevie coming up fast behind them.
"Jacy?" He dropped down on one knee, gently touched her shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. Blood trickled from a cut on her cheek.
"Careful turning her over," Stevie warned.
"I've got her legs." Aaron assisted Risk in getting Jacy onto her side.
Risk brushed back her hair. The cut on her cheekbone proved minor, more grass burn than scrape. "Jacy, open your eyes, babe."
She blinked, spat grass and gasped for air. "You're out."
Risk exhaled, then drew her close.
Jacy winced. "My ribs. My ankle."
Aaron studied Jacy's ankle, already blue and swollen to twice its size. "Could be broken."