27. Chapter 24
Sloan
Idon’t know what I was expecting to jump out and grab me. I could see Jax waiting at the gate when I pulled up in my car, but despite my fear of the dark parking lot, I knew that I had to get across the parking lot, because all I wanted to do was spend time with him.
He’d showered and changed into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, and was leaning up against the gate scrolling through his phone. He looks so sexy with his hair slightly damp, but his subtle smolder turns to laughter when he sees me running towards him.
“Really?” he chuckles. “What do you think is going to happen to you out here?” He looks around us at the gates surrounding the field.
“Can we just go inside, please?” I huff, the random fear making me out of breath with even that short little jaunt across the parking lot.
Still laughing, he ushers me inside and locks the gate behind him.
He immediately starts walking towards the field, and I can’t help but wonder what this surprise is.
I pick up my pace to match his, and take him in as we continue walking through the empty corridor. It’s so different right now. Where there are usually hundreds of fans walking around, talking, and grabbing food and drinks, there are fresh mop marks on the concrete surrounded by silence.
“How in the world do they clean this so fast?” I ask, with amazement in my eyes.
“This is like the Disneyland of baseball. Horner takes cleanliness and efficiency very seriously.” He smiles as he states this fact, clearly proud of his home away from home.
“The after game crew is huge, and they each take a small zone. They’re usually in and out of here in less than an hour.
” He looks at me before he continues, “The fans are also welcome to stay as long as they’d like, but he carefully orchestrates post game entertainment to usher fans towards the parking lot without making them feel like they have to leave.
There are always a few stragglers, but honestly, I think the small town charm and chance of seeing players out and about is what gets them moving the fastest.” He clearly saw the question forming in my mind.
When he originally asked me to come back in an hour, I wasn’t expecting it to be empty.
“I didn’t realize so much went into post game wrap up.
” It made me curious what happened at the Moonshine field after NFL games.
It also has me curious how Jax knows so much about this place, and I know absolutely nothing about what happened after the lights went out at the place I considered home for so long.
When we turn the corner at the first set of stairs that head to the field, I clap my hands over my face and let out a muffled, “Jax.”
Right there, on the pitcher’s mound is the most romantic scene.
A Moonshot blanket is sprawled out over the mound, with candles in a heart shape creating the perfect oasis.
As we walk closer and walk onto the field, I notice they are accompanied by a platter of crackers, fruit, and a variety of cheeses.
“They’re electric,” he whispers.
“What?” I laugh.
“The candles. They’re all electric.”
“I wasn’t actually thinking about that, but I’m glad we aren’t going to burn the place down,” I tease, hoping it doesn’t ruin the moment.
“I thought we could just spend some time together and I could share my favorite place with you.” His smile is so bright.
I can’t help but pause and take this in. My eyes look at him first. Tall and handsome, his 6 foot something stature towering over me, as his eyes dance across the field like it’s the most magical place in the entire world.
My attention quickly shifts to the blanket, and snacks. He must have spent so much time and thought putting this together. There isn’t one thing that looks like it was anything less than meticulously thought out.
He slowly sits down on the blanket and pats the space next to him for me to join him. I sit down and I instantly feel at home.
“This is amazing,” I say, wondering if he knows just how much I mean it. “So tell me all the things you love about it here.” I lean my head on his shoulder, “What makes it your favorite?”
We both stare out towards the outfield. And I expect him to say the view. It’s so magical, the silhouette of palm trees, the waves crashing in the distance. I can only hear them now, cutting through the dark, but have marveled at them many times from the stands.
“That’s honestly something I’ve spent a lot of time considering lately, because I’ve played baseball for literally as long as I can remember.
” He lays his head on mine. “That’s not even an exaggeration.
My parents signed me up for t-ball at three, and I’ve been playing ever since.
I can’t even begin to place a count on all the fields I’ve played on.
I’ve played it all, t-ball fields, little league fields, high school fields, major league stadiums.” He laughs, “I even got to play on the Field of Dreams field, and none of them compare to this field. Because this field changes the game. It takes baseball and all the magic that it holds, and takes it from a game about the players’ love for the game and adds the fans’ love for the game.
Not that baseball doesn’t do that too, because baseball fans all over the world have a love for the sport that’s unlike anything else in the world, but here, the fans are a part of it.
They’re a player in the game. They aren’t spectators, they’re teammates. ”
I just smile at him, admiration filling every fiber of my body.
“But, this field… holds history. This is where it started, and I’ve gotten to be a part of it from the ground up.
I was the first pitcher to ever step foot on this mound.
I mean don’t get me wrong, one of the coolest feelings in the world is stepping onto the same mound that players like Randy Johnson have stood on, but there is something unmatched about being the first one to call this one home. ”
A small tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away as I sit up straight, “You might have just made this my new favorite spot in Mango Bay.”
“I wanted our first date to be here, to kiss you here.”
His lips crash to mine before I can even process the words he’s said.
My mind is a hurricane of emotions. He wants to share this with me, give a little piece of his favorite place to me, and that thought has me instantly questioning if I’m worth the honor.
I know what it’s like to share your favorite place, favorite thing with someone, and have them not deserve it.
I want to deserve it, but I’m not sure if I can.
I’m not sure if my heart will let me open wide enough to accept this piece of him.
He’s literally laying his heart out in front of me, and I want it.
I want it so damn bad, but part of me is screaming that I can’t take it.
Mixing work and feelings has been nothing but an explosive combination for me, and when you add dating someone who is a public figure into the mix, it has the potential to get really messy, really quickly.
That’s the reason I keep telling myself not to fall for someone at work again.
I want something simple. I want it to be private. I want someone who isn’t like me.
And then he whispered in my ear, “You are perfect Sloan. You’re smart, and driven, confident, and beautiful… and not just on the outside. Break the rules for me.”
I look at him, and that’s it. The moment everything between us changes. There was us before this moment. Stolen glances, small moments that made my heart flutter, and heated moments that took my breath away—and then there is us after this moment.
We could be everything we are both longing for, or people who once knew each other. Because there is no coming back from that request.
I take him in, and then I make the choice I never really needed time to consider, while his eyes are desperately searching mine.
My lips find his. My hands find his chest, and I lean into him. I pull at his shirt, trying desperately to get closer to him, even though our bodies are pressed against one another.
I burn each motion into my memory, because this is what it feels like when someone sees you.
His hands brush through my hair.
His eyes look into mine, marking me.
“Sloan,” he whispers my name, one time, just so he can hear it.
He watches my every motion, and I can tell he’s storing them away too.
And for the first time, I let myself dream about what this can be without the rules.