Chapter 55
fifty-five
Sporting a glare that could kill, I readjust my hat as I make my way to the man who’s lucky he’s about to walk out of here on his own two legs.
He sees me coming and staggers back. Until he realizes that all eyes are on us and that he’s safe. Mostly. Then he smiles smugly.
This fucker.
I don’t stop for pleasantries as I smoothly take the mic out of his hand and smack his back hard enough to send him flying forward a few steps before he gets his footing.
“Well, that was sure… Something,” I say into the mic. From this angle I can see that half the crowd is staring at their phones, most likely tuning into our live broadcast.
Who knew that Middlebrooks’s and Vega’s chisme sessions that usually have them looking like two cackling hens would actually come in handy some day?
“David, why don’t you stand to the side over here and watch how it’s done?” My hand guides him harshly off the mound.
“It’s Damien,” he mutters as Martinez and Torres silently act as bodyguards, walking him to the opposite side of our dugout, at a safe distance from Daisy.
I turn my attention back to the packed stadium. “I think we can do better than that last pitch, don’t you?” I aim the mic at the crowd, and they scream their agreement.
I nod. “All right, then. Good thing I have someone in mind.” My eyes twinkle with mischief as they meet Daisy’s and her jaw drops. “Daisy girl, why don’t you come up here and show that sorry excuse of an ex of yours how it’s done?” I lift a teasing brow, and the crowd goes mental at my dig.
Daisy starts to walk over, and she seems genuinely shocked at the response she garners from the fans. They’re cheering her name, waving wildly, trying to get her to look their way. And I get it, because I know how it feels to want Daisy’s attention.
I force myself to take a few steps to the side as Middlebrooks catches up to Daisy and hands her a ball.
I know how nerve-racking it can be to stand in a stadium with thousands of eyes on you, but my girl’s got this in the bag. She’s been down here plenty during practice with the guys, and I’ve seen her curveball. It’s solid.
Torres takes his place not too far away but close enough to make the throw impressive. He’s definitely farther back than he was for dickface who’s looking up at us with barely restrained anger.
“All right, Daze. Show them what you got,” I say into the microphone.
She sends a soft smile my way, then she gets her head in the game. Placing her feet in a perfect pitcher’s stance, she narrows her eyes at Torres. God, she’s so fucking adorable. It’s taking everything in me to stay put and wait until she’s done with her pitch.
She gives Tom a little wink, which, of course, he captures effortlessly, then winds her arm back and sends the ball flying. It lands with a satisfying umph in Torres’s mitt, and he makes a show of pulling it off and shaking out his hand.
This is the part when the catcher is supposed to run up and hand the ceremonial ball over to our guest. But Torres is a smart man and stays put when he sees me making my way toward my girl.
She’s smiling from ear to ear, happiness radiating from her as she blooms under the attention.
She hasn’t noticed me closing in on her yet, so I take advantage and yell out to Tom. “You ready?”
He responds by bringing his camera to his face at lightning speed.
I know I promised him a smile, but I guess he’s going to have to settle for me claiming my girl in front of the entire world.
“Damn, my girlfriend looks good on my field,” I say clearly into the mic in my hand as I reach her. She spins in my hold, that smile unwavering. “Here, now you’re a real Monarch.” I take my hat off and comb my other hand through my unruly strands, then flip the cap over and place it on her head.
She beams up at me, and I can’t wait another second.
So I don’t.
And for the first time, it feels as though she can read my thoughts. She seamlessly wraps her arms around my neck at the same time I circle my arms around her waist. I pull her into me, eyes searching hers, before she closes them.
And I lean down and kiss her.
The noise level reaches a fever pitch before it all seems to melt away, and all I can focus on is Daisy’s lips on mine. Her body melding against my own until it feels like we’re one.
She breaks our kiss when she starts to giggle nervously, seemingly more aware of our surroundings than I am capable of at a time like this.
It’s satisfying to lift my gaze and see Damien being escorted off the field by a team of security guards. It may be a bit overkill, but my face must match Nick’s satisfied look as Daisy’s ex is being manhandled off the field, accompanied by the roar of cheers from the crowd.
I toss the handheld mic onto the ground, no longer needing the stadium’s attention, and cradle Daisy’s face in my hands after straightening the flower so it’s still safely tucked behind her ear.
“I love you, Daisy. Every part of me belongs to you and I don’t care who knows it.”
She pointedly looks at the small mic still clipped onto me, as if I don’t know that I’m still live streaming. So I look down at it and repeat it one more time.
She nods thoughtfully, biting her bottom lip. “People are gonna think you’re obsessed with me or something.”
“Good. So when I show up with your name tatted on my ring finger, I suppose they won’t bat an eye.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me. Hell, the whole nation heard me.” I chuckle as I kiss the surprised look off her face. “Don’t worry, it goes both ways. Because I’ll tatt your name, but you’ll be changing yours. I do like the ring of Daisy Weston, but all in due time.”
“Y-you—Did you ju—Did we… Wow, words. Can I remember how to use them?” She laughs to herself.
I hum, pointedly ignoring her mini freak-out session. Because if it wasn’t apparent before just how serious I am about her, this should leave no doubt. “You think anyone is listening to the live stream?” I ask as I quickly glance out to the stands.
She rolls her eyes playfully as she leans into the mic inside my jersey and speaks. “Are you guys ready to get this game started and get our boys on the field?”
Two seconds later, the crowd starts chanting “yes.”
She laughs. “Looks like we got your answer, Coach.” She raises onto her tiptoes and presses a kiss to my cheek. My smile is immediate, and when I lift my gaze, it lands right on a flashing camera.
Looks like Tom did get that smile shot after all.