Free Pitch Perfect: Boys of Summer, Book 1 by Sierra Dean Page B

with the same fondness he used to talk about his sister and the kids. Love, but not love . Nothing about Simon seemed to burn Emmy up inside.
    But maybe that was Tucker’s wishful thinking.
    A lot of things about Emmy resided in the wishful-thinking part of Tucker’s brain, but it would be a lot easier to lust after her from a safe distance if he didn’t feel like a jackass for doing it. He’d been cheated on—it wasn’t a fun feeling. And he had no feelings about Simon one way or the other, but he wasn’t about to be the dog who chased someone else’s Frisbee.
    “We’ve been dating almost four years.” She continued to bend and stretch his arm, sometimes causing him to wince. Her fingers cupped his elbow, and her short nails dug lightly into the skin below his scar, ever so carefully avoiding it. The scar didn’t hurt anymore, but he liked that she was aware of it.
    “Four years and he couldn’t try to find a job in California?”
    “Blackhawks don’t play in California often enough to make it worth his while.” She made him lift his arm and leaned against his side, straining the limb higher. Her hair brushed his cheek, distracting him from the pain of moving his arm in such an unnatural way. She smelled like clean laundry and something sweeter, like sugary lemonade, and her hair was soft against his skin.
    “Hockey fan?” His voice caught in his throat with a hitch, and he coughed to cover it.
    “He’s all about hockey. Baseball is just something to keep him busy between April and October.” She laughed at her own statement, her breath warm against his ear. “Funny, because baseball is all that keeps me busy from February to November.”
    Emmy lowered his arm, pushing herself away from him. Her fingers trailed down the sensitive skin of his underarm.
    “Do you have anything in common?” Tucker asked, more to distract himself than really wanting to know.
    Emmy bent his fingers back, stretching his palm and wrist. “I’m sure we did. It sort of stops being about that after a while though, you know?”
    Tucker did not know. He hadn’t been in a long-term relationship in years. Honestly, short-term relationships were even more hassle than he was able to commit to. “Sure,” he lied.
    “Our schedules worked together. We knew how to coexist. He makes me laugh, and he remembers to buy toothpaste when it’s out. There’s something to be said for that.”
    “Hire a funny assistant.”
    “Cute.”
    “I guess I don’t see the logic of staying in a relationship with someone you never see. Not when…” He drifted off before he said too much.
    “Not when?” Emmy had stopped stretching him but was still holding his elbow. Her hand was warm.
    “Not when there are other people who—”
    Jasper came in clutching two plastic bags from CVS and two Starbucks cups stacked on top of each other. “You would not believe the pains I took to find civilization.” He dumped the bags on a nearby table and thrust a coffee in Emmy’s direction. “Hey, man.” Jasper nodded at Tucker, completely oblivious that he’d walked in on anything. “Don’t know how you can drink the toxic sludge this one makes.”
    “I don’t know,” Tucker said as Emmy released his elbow. “I’m pretty fond of her way.”

Chapter Twelve
    Emmy leaned against the dugout fence with Alex Ross beside her and Tucker one spot down. The April air was cold in Missouri, and she had a Felons beanie pulled down over her ears but nothing to keep the chill off her cheeks.
    Miles Cartwright was in his third inning, and he was making things interesting. The young pitcher—in only his first start in the majors—was keeping the score at nothing, but giving them all a heart attack by walking at least one batter each inning.
    Alex was in a forced off day and watching the backup catcher take wild pitches off the newest member of the Felons bullpen. He kept cursing under his breath and gnawing on his hoodie sleeve to keep the words from showing