36. This Is Third Base

THIRTY-SIX

THIS IS THIRD BASE

Garrett

With Dessa tucked against my side, we continue to stroll down the tree-lined sidewalk. We've lost a lot of time, but I'll spend the rest of eternity giving her the sun, the moon, and all the stars. We arrive at an opening flanked by two baseball fields and a couple of concession buildings. The field lights are off, but the streetlights illuminate the ground enough to light our way. It looks exactly how it did all those years ago. Then I freeze, and Dessa jolts to a stop.

"What the hell? They're selling Hillside Fields?" I stare up at the giant yellow and white For Sale sign.

"Oh yeah. They're trying. It's been for sale for close to eight months."

I drop my arm from around Dessa and slide through the opening of the gate and onto the field. Dessa trails a few steps behind me. My gaze wanders over home plate, past the dugout, and to the outfield. "I have a lot of good memories here. I won my first Little League tournament over on field number two."

"And rumor has it you scored a home run with Lauren Pierson in the dugout on field one." Dessa playfully elbows me in the side.

"Keyword rumor, and that's all it was. She wanted to, but I turned her down. She lived up to the name base chaser. When I said no, she got cozy with Clint Walker, who was more than willing to give her what she wanted."

I stroll behind home plate and crouch so I'm balancing on the balls of my feet, nostalgia hitting me like a sack of bricks. "For some reason, it looks so much smaller now."

"Probably because you're in the big leagues."

"I also hit my first home run on this field. My parents still have the ball in my old bedroom. I should pick it up and bring it back to Seattle with me." I stand next to home plate and swing a pretend bat. "What do you say, want to play a game?"

"Um. What kind of game? Because I don't think a game of hide the bat is appropriate for a public baseball field."

A deep laugh rumbles out of me. "I get you can't keep your hands off me, but this is an innocent game of baseball."

"It's rarely ever innocent when it comes to you." She side-eyes me with a playful half smile. "Wait. There's not a bat or balls."

I shrug and return a smile of my own. "Use your imagination. Stand at home plate and pretend you're the batter." My hands grip her shoulders, and I move her into position.

"What is this? Some sort of kinky role-play you're into? "

"You've always had a smart mouth. Later, I'll be sure to put that mouth to work." I press my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "For now, just go with it, Tates."

She rolls her eyes but does as I say. Standing next to the plate, she squares her shoulders and bends her knees, exactly how I showed her in Arizona. I stroll to the pitcher's mound and turn to face her. "Are you ready?"

"For the imaginary pitch? Yes." She wiggles her butt.

I laugh. I hold my fist in one hand, lift my knee, and sling shot my arm forward. She swings the bat. I yell, "Strike one!"

She drops her arms to her sides and rises to her full height. "Why was that a strike?"

"You need to be quicker than that."

"That's total bullshit." She laughs.

"I'm just calling the plays like I see them."

"But it's imaginary! Fine," she throws her hands in the air, "we'll call it a strike since I swung." She gets into the batter's stance again.

"Also, I need my ball back."

"But it's imaginary."

"I still need it for the next pitch." Even from the mound, I can see her roll her eyes. She bends over, giving me a nice view of her ass as she picks up the imaginary ball and throws it to me. I jump and with one hand in the air, I catch the imaginary ball. "When did you get an arm? Maybe you should pitch."

She laughs. "Just throw the ball."

"Widen your stance a little. Wiggle your ass for good measure." She laughs and gives it a little wiggle. "This one is going to be a curveball to the inside. Are you ready?"

"I'm always ready."

"That's my girl." I pitch the ball again and with all her might, she swings. From the pitcher's mound, I cup my hand on top of my eyes and look into the sky, following the pretend ball. I swing my gaze to Dessa as she stands at home plate. "What are you doing? Run!"

Dessa starts to run, then freezes before throwing the imaginary bat into the dirt. She jogs the baseline toward first base.

"You have to run faster than that!"

"I can't! I'm wearing three-inch ankle boots!"

With a sudden burst of speed, I dart to the left and close in on her, meeting her halfway to the base. I wrap my arm tightly around her waist, effortlessly twist her around, and hoist her over my shoulder. My arm locks her legs in place against my chest. She laughs in surprise. I continue to run the baseline until my foot lands on the base. Slowly, I lower her to her feet. Her body slides against mine the entire way down. I grab the bill of my cap and flip it around, shoving it back on my head. With both hands, I cup her cheeks, and press a kiss to her soft lips. "First base." I hoist her over my shoulder again and she giggles as I jog across the field to second base. Once my feet are on the base, I lower her to her feet. I slide one hand to the back of her head and the other around her waist and to her ass. I pull her to me and kiss her, pressing my tongue against the seam of her lips. She opens and moans into my mouth. My tongue curls around hers for a few strokes before I break away.

Her eyelashes flutter open. "Let me guess, third base is next?"

"You're catching on." I lift her over my shoulder again. She giggles as I follow the baseline to third. Once I'm on the base, I lower her to the ground.

"And this is third." She reaches down and cups my dick over my jeans. Softly, she strokes me as my dick strains against the zipper .

I groan. "There's only one problem. We're wearing too many clothes." I slide my hand under the hem of her sweater, and my fingertips trail up her stomach. Her breath hitches when I palm her breast over her lace bra, brushing my thumb over her stiffening nipple.

Her mouth falls open slightly. "If you keep that up, you might just make it home." A bolt of lightning zigzags across the sky, lighting up the entire field. Both of us tilt our heads up to the sky. "It's going to rain," she adds.

A droplet of water splashes onto my forehead. "Or we just have that much electricity between us."

She laughs. "Would you like some wine with that cheesy pickup line?"

I throw my head back in laughter. "Only if I can lick it off your body." I nuzzle my nose into her neck and press my lips against her skin under her ear. "Should we take this all the way to home plate?" Another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky.

"Yeah, and we better make it quick."

I pick her up again. This time she rests her hands on my shoulders and twists her head around so she can see where we're going. When I'm only a few steps from home plate, I slow my pace. As soon as my foot lands on home, I release my grip, and she slides down my body. Her hands roam my chest and abs, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake as her feet find solid ground on the base. "Look at that, you got a home run."

"We got a home run." She stretches on her tippy toes, wraps her hands around my neck, and tugs me down for a kiss just as another bolt of lightning dances across the sky. Seconds later, the roar of thunder echoes over the field. With her lips still pressed to mine, the skies open and rain pours over us. I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her to me, neither of us caring about the rain or getting wet. The only thing we're concerned with is each other. Holding each other. Kissing each other. Loving each other. I know without a doubt, I love Dessa. I always have. For the rest of my life, I always will.

She pulls away, her lips a hairsbreadth away from mine. "Should we continue this in the dugout until the rain passes?" I nod. She grabs my hand and leads me toward the third base dugout and through the open gate. Rain pings against the metal roof as it shields us from the downpour. I sit on the steel bench and guide her to straddle my lap. As she sits, I slide my hand along her upper thigh, around her waist, and link my fingers together at the top of her ass. Her arms drape over my shoulders, and I drop my head into the crook of her arm, resting my cheek against her chest.

"I can't believe they're selling this place."

"I know. We've had a lot of great memories here. I remember you forcing me to throw pitches to you, even though I had to be like five feet away from the plate so I could throw you a semi-accurate ball."

My shoulders bounce with laughter. "Are you telling me you didn't have fun?"

Her fingers play with the wet hair at the back of my neck. "No, I did, mostly because I got to spend time with you."

"By the end of summer, you were able to throw the ball fifteen feet with pretty good accuracy."

Her gaze drops to my chest. "We've come a long way since then."

"My biggest regret has been the last ten years without you." I hold her tighter, afraid to lose her again.

"My biggest regret was not smacking you upside the head and telling you to kiss me at the dock."

We laugh. "But we can't live with regrets. We're here now and I fully intend to spend the rest of my life with you." I lift my head and peer up at her. "You're my everything. You're all I need." My thumb brushes against the bare skin on her lower back from where her sweater has ridden up. "I don't know how I survived ten years without you in my life. I was a shell of a man, only going through the motions. The last four months with you has resuscitated me. You're the sunshine after the rain, and I've had nothing but rain clouds looming over me." With one hand, I reach up and cup her cheek, forcing her gaze to meet mine. "I love you, Dessa. I've loved you for over half my life, and my biggest regret is not telling you sooner."

She cups my cheek, her thumb brushing over my two-day stubble. "I love you, Garrett. As much as I wish we could rewind and rewrite history, we may not be here without it. Right now, it's pretty perfect."

"I know we've been keeping it casual, and I haven't been casual with anyone else."

Both her palms cover my cheeks, and I lean into her warmth. "Me either," she murmurs.

My mouth goes dry. I've done this before, but this time it's different. My fingers play with the belt loop on the back of her jeans. "What do you say we turn this casual into exclusive?"

Her fingers drop to my shoulders and freeze. "Is the Home Run Playboy asking me to be his girlfriend?"

What I really want to ask is for her to be my wife, but it might be too soon for that, so I nod so those words don't accidentally tumble out instead.

She giggles. "Use your words. Ask me."

The corners of my lips tip up in a smile. She used my own words against me. Again. I sit up straighter and pull her closer to me. "Dessa, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend? "

She tilts her head and taps her lips, pretending to contemplate her answer.

My heart jackhammers in my chest. The anticipation is killing me. I thought her answer would be yes, but as the seconds tick by without a word, I wonder if she actually has to think about it.

"I guess they'll have to start calling you the Home Run Boyfriend."

Heat radiates through my chest. "One correction. Dessa's Home Run Boyfriend." I tilt my head up and press my lips to hers. This is our story. But it's only a matter of time until I change boyfriend to husband.