Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

he had an arm on him and he didn’t give me shit when I dropped almost every ball he tossed my way. Not my fault the damn balls bounced right off my glove. Was it just not broken in yet? Did I buy a rubber glove accidentally?

“Can I give you a tip, Captain?” Charles asked kindly, not at all condescending, which made me nod.

He trotted over and grabbed my gloved hand, putting it above my head. “Okay, so hold it open and wait until you hear and feel the smack before closing. Like this.” He smacked my glove with his fist and then forced it closed.

I nodded and pulled my arm down, giving him a smile. “Yeah. I can do that. Thanks.”

“I’ll help Oakley warm up from here.” Wyatt’s stern voice came from right behind me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

I swallowed hard and tried to school my face. Charles nodded at Wyatt and ran off to find a new partner to warm up with. I stood as straight and tall as my short spine would allow me before spinning around. Time to show Wyatt that we were all business now. It would have helped if he hadn’t looked so good in athletic shorts and a T-shirt that clung to his biceps.

“We may be partners at work, but we can find other partners on the baseball field, Lieutenant,” I snapped at him.

Wyatt lifted an eyebrow. “Ah. I see you can pronounce it now. That’s good.”

I sniffed and walked straight to the dugout, thoroughly warmed up and not in the mood for his bullshit. In fact, I felt so hot I could singe the asshole for reminding me how tipsy I’d gotten yesterday. Wasn’t my finest hour having my father take me home from The T-Spot and I didn’t care for Wyatt reminding me.

“Hey, Dad!” I hollered over to my dad at the other dugout with a wave and a forced smile.

I’d show Wyatt his presence didn’t affect me at all. Dad winked at me before continuing his pep talk with his players. Sheriff Locke shouted for our team to huddle up while he gave us last-minute instructions. Basically, he wanted the guys to swing hard for the homers and for me to let the guys handle things. I folded my arms across my chest. What the hell? I could feel Wyatt looking at me, but I refused to see the pity I knew would be stamped across his face. I’d show these fuckers who could play ball.

The teams took to the field, our team being first at bat. Zion Yosemite, the new guy Dad recently hired, took the mound as pitcher for Hell Nation, as they called themselves. Our team was Deputy Dawgs which I hated with a passion. Clearly, no one had consulted me when choosing team names.

I was first at bat, probably because Sheriff thought I would be an easy out, and then they could pick up the slack with the sluggers behind me in the lineup. I did a few practice swings, the motion feeling more natural now that I’d attended a few practices. I stepped into the batter’s box and assumed the position.

“Whatcha got for me, Zion?” I called out to the pitcher.

He glanced around before looking back at me, probably confused as to why we were having a casual chat while I was supposed to be at bat. The way I figured it, I’d never hit a home run. The best I could hope for is to make friends with the pitcher so he’d feel sorry for me and give me some easy pitches. I could at least shoot for getting to first base.

“Hey, it’s Oakley, right?” He nodded to his catcher and stood up to start the first windup. It was slow-pitch softball. Not really sure how much windup was really necessary. But that was men and sports for you. So damn serious.

“Yep. Your boss’s daughter!” I answered brightly, reminding him to go easy on me without saying the words.

He stumbled a bit in the windup, but let the ball loose, the arc high and slow. I waited, then swung with all I had, rejoicing when I felt the bat zing in my hands. I threw the bat way behind me—I would not trip this time—and ran like I was chasing a suspect. My feet hit first base, and I nearly jumped for joy, seeing that I was safe.

“Let’s go, sis!” I heard Vee yell from the stands.

“Nicely done, Captain!” Charles shouted encouragement from the dugout.

I gave him a thumbs-up, my smile increasing when I saw Wyatt glaring at the poor kid. Wyatt batted behind me, getting another single and putting me on second. Blaze Hellman was the second baseman for Hell Nation.

“Hey, Oakley. You’re in fine form today.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help the blush. He was way too young for me, but when one of the five Hellman brothers winked, your lady bits fluttered. It was as scientific as gravity. The Hellman brothers, the legal ones, just had that way about them.

A growl to my left had me glancing over to first base. Wyatt looked ready to rip Blaze’s head off. I smiled the secret smile of every woman throughout time who enjoyed seeing a man jealous over attention paid to her by another. Served him right. I would have been Wyatt’s if he’d just gotten his shit together.

The crack of the bat had me running to third, but then the sheriff was there yelling at me to go back.

“What?” I yelled, my sprint slowing to a jog.

“Go back! They caught it!” His arms flailed wildly through the air.

I didn’t know what that meant, but I’d been trained to follow my commander’s lead. If he said go back, I’d go back. I spun around and started sprinting back to second base, but Blaze was right there in my path, catching the little white ball and looking at me like he was a tiger and I