Kimber Chin

“Boyer, you’re up.”

Again? Beth cringed. She had to face the ball of death again?

“Don’t strand your runners, Boyer.” Brent’s cryptic advice was paired with a heavy slap on her rear end. She glared back at him as she trudged up to the plate.

“Hi there, sweetheart.” The giant man held out the bat. She took it with a small smile. “You remember what to do?”

Survive through three crazy fast pitches? “I’ve been told not to strand my runners.” She scrunched up her nose. She didn’t know what that meant but it couldn’t be good.

He frowned also, increasing her trepidation. “Excuse me for saying so, but whoever told you that is an idiot.” She didn’t mind him saying so. Brent WAS an idiot. “You did your job by showing up and giving your team a chance. It is their job to drive their runners home.”

“Mike, we gonna play? Today?” the pitcher yelled.

“Just giving you time to recover, old man,” Mike, his name was Mike, yelled back to his not so much older teammate.

“I’m sorry.  I got you in trouble.” Beth’s face heated up. Everyone must think her the idiot for needing the extra help.

He grinned like he didn’t care.  “Don’t mind him. He’s testy because we’re losing.”  A pause.  “And because we pulled an all nighter on a project last night. The lack of sleep isn’t helping.” Big shoulders shrugged. “Now what you could do,” he tilted his head, “is bunt. That’s when you don’t swing all the way,” He put his arms around her again, “but stop your bat right here.” He showed her. “Think you can do that?”

She gulped. “I can try.”

“That’s one of the things I like about you, sweetheart. You’re up for anything.” He winked and stepped back. “Play!” he yelled.