Game On(39)

I pointed at the batting cages. “Each time I hit a ball, I get one off-the-record question back on the record.”

“No way!” he said. “For all I know, you spend your weekend at places like this, hoping one day you’ll be able to trick some poor innocent guy into giving up his innermost secrets.”

“Poor innocent guy?” I asked, shaking my head at him. “You’re hardly either of those.”

Definitely not innocent, I thought, remembering the eat-you-up smiles he had been giving me all night paired with the occasional suggestive comment and casual touch. Well, two people could play at that game.

“It’s not a fair bet,” he told me. “What chance do I have to defend myself?”

“Well, we can hardly go one-on-one,” I said, sensing I was going to lose my opportunity. “How about I have to get three in a row?” I wasn’t even sure I could get one, let alone three in a row, but I had to try something. At least he was still here, his car keys still in his pocket, the look on his face betraying his interest.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked. “Seems like you’re the only one who’s going to benefit from this little dare. What do I get?”

“Amusement,” I told him, but he shook his head.

“Naw,” he said, thinking for a moment. Then a huge grin spread across his face. “OK, I’ve got it. You get something if you get three in a row, I get something if I hit five in a row.”

“That’s not fair!” I objected. “You’re a professional.”

“So are you,” he said.

“I’m a professional journalist,” I reminded him. “It’s not a fair bet.”

“Hey,” he shrugged. “How much do you want those on-the-record questions?”

I frowned, realizing the bet had just backfired in my face.

He held out his hand. “Deal?”

I needed those questions. I just had to get three hits in a row. I could do that, right? I shook. “Deal.” But as he turned away, I remembered that we hadn’t finalized all aspects of this new bet.”

“Hey!” I asked. “What do you get if you make five in a row?”

“You’ll find out when it happens,” he said, turning away.

“Wait a minute, that’s not fair,” I argued, but he was already heading over to the booth where a bored-looking kid was handing out equipment. He perked up the minute he saw Nathan, though.

“Hey! You’re Nathan Ryder.”

“Sure am,” Nathan said, leaning on the counter. “Need to get a bat and helmet for two.” He pointed a thumb at me. “She just made a foolish bet.”

“We’re about to close,” the kid said regretfully.

“We don’t need it for very long.” Nathan gave him a hopeful smile.

“Would you sign a ball for me?” the kid asked, hero worship blooming in his eyes.

“Of course,” Nathan said, but I could see the tips of his ears turn pink as he bent over the ball the kid handed him, scrawling his name across the side. He hadn’t been lying about hating the attention, but I couldn’t deny how cute he acted when he got it.

“We won’t be long,” I told the kid, but he was completely focused on the newly signed memorabilia in his hand. I just needed to get one good, personal question off the record. And distract him from collecting any of his currently undetermined debts.

“Come on, hustler,” Nathan said, picking up the equipment and making sure to give the kid a big smile, which clearly made his day. “We’ll be back.”

He led me over to the cage furthest away from everything, practically tucked away in a corner, and went to fiddle with the settings on the machine as I put on my helmet, hoping I wasn’t going to ruin my hair too much. But by the smile Nathan gave me as he came back, I clearly hadn’t deterred his interest. Somehow I had to use this to my advantage.

I stared down at the aluminum bat, not exactly sure the best spacing for my hands. Should I put them close together or spread out? I tried to remember what I saw other players do, but all I could picture was Nathan’s butt in his tight, white uniform. I shook my head. This was the exact opposite of what I was hoping for.

“Have you ever done this before?” Nathan asked, coming over next to me. By the look on his face, having my hands that close together was clearly not the best position to take.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, sensing an opportunity. I glanced down at the bat, biting my lips and furrowing my brow. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” I made sure to infuse just the slightest touch of nervousness into my voice.

“You’re hopeless,” he said, giving me an assessing glance. “And you’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll be fine,” I waved him off, trying to make myself look as clueless as possible.

Nathan sighed. “Let me show you,” he said, coming around behind me. I did my best to hide my smile as he slid his arms down mine, his fingers wrapping around my own. “Keep your hands firm and apart. You need to have complete control of the bat.” I could hear the smile in his voice. Clearly he thought he was going to do what he had done during our skee-ball game. Distract me. Well, two could play at that.