Page 77 of Catching the Coach
We enter the building and Kessler leads me down the maze of hallways to the gate that leads us out onto the field. We step out onto the dirt and there’s a giant tote bag and a picnic basket sitting on home plate. My feet freeze and Kessler stops a couple steps ahead of me once he’s realized I’ve stopped.
“Lucy?” he questions, coming back to my side.
I look at the basket and back to him. “You’re taking me on a picnic?” I whisper, my throat clogging with tears.
Kessler cups my cheek. “Hey, why are you crying?”
I inhale a deep stuttering breath, trying to calm myself. “That’s, I. It’s just so romantic,” I croak out.
Kessler laughs. “Just wait until you see what all I have planned.” He wipes a single tear that’s escaped down my cheek with his thumb. “Come on, let’s have our much needed date night.”
Leaving me where I stand. Kessler walks over to the picnic basket and tote and grabs them, tucking them into the dugout. He comes back and grabs my hand, leading me over to the batting cage. Opening the gate he leads me in. “I thought we’d hit some balls before dinner, while we still have some light left.”
My face cracks into a grin. “I would love that.”
I choose a bat from the many hanging on the fence and Kessler walks over to the pitching machine and turns it on. “We’re gonna start you out slow, to get you warmed up.” I nod my head and take my position. The machine sends a ball my way and I take a swing, missing it completely.
“Is it too fast?” Kessler asks, moving to adjust the machine.
“No, I got it. Let’s try it again.” I settle into my stance again, waiting for the pitch.
Kessler drops his hand and crosses his arms across his chest, watching me.
The pitch comes again, and again I swing and miss. I let out a frustrated growl.
Kessler jogs over to me. “Here, let me help.” His arms come around mine, and I inhale a deep breath, breathing him in. His breath moves the hair that’s fallen loose from my ponytail, tickling my neck. I turn my head slightly, our noses nearly touching. The pitching machine sends a ball our way, but neither of us are paying attention, lost in the moment with each other. “That’s strike three,” Kessler whispers.
“Looks like I’m out,” I reply, sliding my nose against his. I shift slightly in Kessler’s arms and release the bat.
Kessler turns me around to face him and picks me up, backing me against the fence. I feel the chainlink dig into my back, but the pleasure of his kiss outweighs the pain. I groan into his mouth and my tongue tangles with his. We may have had sex as soon as Kessler got home today, but that seems to have done nothing to curb his appetite for me. He rocks his hips against me, showing me how much I turn him on. I nip at his bottom lip, making him growl. “Lucy, don’t start something we can’t finish. Even though it looks like we’re alone, we’re still in public” His dark eyes tell me he’d love nothing more to devour me right here, right now. I sigh, knowing he’s right. I give him one last kiss and he lets me down to my feet.
Kessler turns around, adjusting himself through his shorts. I giggle, reaching up to fix my now messy ponytail. He walks over to the now empty pitching machine and shuts it down. Picking up the forgotten bat, I hang it back up where I got it from. I don’t even ask Kessler if he wants to bat, knowing he needs to rest his shoulder for his next series of games.
Kessler takes my hand in his and we exit the cage, making our way back over to the dugout. The sun is close to setting, casting the field in shadows. “Are we gonna eat in the dark?”
Not saying a word, he leads me over to center field. Opening the tote he pulls out a blanket and spreads it out. Next he pulls out three fluffy pillows and sets them behind him. Kessler sits down on the blanket and pats the empty space next to him. I kick off my sandals and sit criss cross on the blanket next to him. Kessler opens the picnic basket and pulls out various containers, a bottle of wine, and a bluetooth speaker.
I raise my brow at him. “When did you put this all together?” Because this spread is not spur of the moment material.
Kessler lifts a shoulder. “I had some help.”
“Apparently.”
“Charlie may have helped me in gathering all the stuff, and left it here for me.”
I stretch out and lay back against the pillows, groaning softly. “Remind me to send Charlie a thank you. These are the softest pillows I’ve ever laid on.” I snuggle into them more. “Seriously, what are these made of, clouds?”
Kessler leans back with me and lets out a groan of his own. “These are coming home with us.”
I nod in agreement. Too relaxed to speak. Kessler laces his hand with mine and we lay in silence as the field grows completely dark around us. Crickets begin their nightly serenades and I can’t remember the last time I laid out in the dark just listening to the sounds of the night.
Kessler’s alarm goes off on his phone and the bright outfield lights pop on, bathing us in fluorescent light. My stomach lets out a grumble, making us laugh. Kessler lets go of my hand and sits up, reaching for the containers. “Let’s get you fed before you get hangry.”
I snort. “I do not get hangry.”
Fun fact. I get hangry.
Kessler lets out a snort of his own. “Yeah and I’m the King of England. You missy, get hangry. I almost lost a hand last time we waited too long to feed you.”
