The next ball was a strike—again. So impressive. It was the way he threw the ball that mesmerized her, the mechanics of it all, the way the ball seemed to arc so high, then unexpectedly drop just as it reached the plate.

Several of the batters swung and missed, or grounded out. He gave up a single in the second inning, but no runs. In the first three innings, no one on the opposing team scored.

Awesome.

Throughout the game, Tucker mixed up his pitches, of which he had several, but his curve was a beautiful thing. By the top of the eighth inning, the Rivers were up by one run. It had definitely been a pitcher’s battle, which had made it fun to watch, but also nerve-wracking.

Aubry found herself leaning forward, breath held, every time Tucker threw a pitch, waiting for it to land in the right spot. And, fortunately, most of the time it did. When someone got a hit, they didn’t advance beyond first base. He was good tonight, and so was the team defense. Offense needed to get on it so they could all breathe a little easier, which hadn’t happened just yet.

Until Gavin Riley hit a shot into right field for a double, and then Trevor Scott doubled him home, giving them a one-run cushion going into the top of the ninth.

Tucker didn’t pitch the ninth. They brought in their ace closer, who threw couldn’t-hit-them fastballs. It was a fast, three-out inning, and the Rivers won the game.

Aubry stood and hugged her dad. “What a great game.”

“I’m glad you came. You brought us luck.”

She laughed. “Based on what I saw tonight, Dad, luck had nothing to do with it.”

“Would you like to stop by the house?” her father asked.

“No, I really need to go home. But I’ll come over on my next night off. Say hi to Mom for me.”

“She’ll be sorry she missed you.”

She hugged and kissed her dad, then left. When she got to her car, she sent a text message to Tucker.

Great game. You pitched well. I enjoyed watching you. Call me later.

By the time she walked in her front door, her phone rang.

“I thought maybe you’d wait for me,” Tucker said.

She laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t want everyone on the team to know you and I are seeing each other?”

“Absolutely not.”

“So, I’m your secret lover, huh?”

Her lips curved at that thought. “For now? Yes.”

“I can live with that. Are you home?”

“Just got here. How about you?”

“Finished interviews, but I’m still at the ballpark.”

She knew better than to do this, but she wanted the company. “You could come over, if you’d like. I know you’re probably hungry. I could fix you something.”

“You don’t have to do that. Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to keep you up late. I can grab something on the way over, that way you don’t have to cook. Are you hungry?”

“No. The suite had plenty of food.”

“Then I’ll grab a quick burger, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

She hung up, went in the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair, then looked in the mirror. She still wore her jeans, blouse and boots and pondered changing clothes.

Changing into what, exactly? She pondered that thought for a few minutes, wondered why she was making such a big deal about it, then decided to change into a pair of comfortable lounge pants and a long-sleeved Henley.

Much better, and less restrictive. She realized she already had thoughts of Tucker’s hands on her, and her body responded with a rush of heat.

Yes, she was definitely glad she’d invited him over. Maybe it was the tension from yesterday, but she needed that release that only he could provide. Sure, she could do it herself, but it would be much more fun to enjoy some fun sex with Tucker.

While she waited for him, she made a cup of tea, then picked up one of her medical books and did some research.

About twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. She went to open it.

She looked him over. “I don’t see a burger bag.”

He smiled at her. “I ate it on the way over.”

“You must have been hungry.”

“I was.”

He came in and she shut the door, watching as he made his way into her kitchen to lean against the island. He looked good in his jeans and long-sleeved cotton shirt. Of course, he always looked good.

“You obviously worked up an appetite with the way you pitched tonight.”