It was the top of the seventh inning, and Dustin hunkered into a ready stance. His eyes drifted from the batter to the empty seats he knew were his. Even if she didn’t come to see him, he wanted her there because she loved the game.

The ball was hit to the third baseman, and the runner called out at first. One more out and he’d be able to sit in the dugout, where he didn’t have a constant reminder that Clover didn’t want him staring her in the face.

As the next batter walked to the plate, a flash of pink caught Dustin’s eye. He heard his name and glanced over to see Clover running down the steps. She wore a pair of black shorts and a pink, flowing shirt with lace. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and her sunglasses were perched on her head. Her legs were long and tan and graceful as they trotted down the steps.

The sound of the ball connecting with the bat jerked his attention back to the game in time for him to put up his glove and catch a line drive at his head. He tossed the ball to Joe at first, who threw it to Devin at second, who threw it back to Brayden on the mound.

“Dustin!” Clover yelled.

He couldn’t help but look, and when he did, his breath caught. She had her arm cocked back like she was about to throw something to him—or at him. Though he doubted it was the latter, because she didn’t look angry. She looked happy, glowing, and beautifully happy.

She pulled her arm forward, and a ball soared onto the field. It landed in front of Brayden. What happened next was a comedy of errors. The umpire called time. Brayden bent to pick up the ball and turned it over in his hands. Security arrived and took Clover by the arms to escort her up the stairs. It all happened so fast that Dustin was in shock.

Brayden waved the infield into the mound. They all jogged in, and he lifted his mitt to his face to cover his mouth.

Coach Wolfe stalked out. He stood in the circle, his arms folded. “What’s going on?”

Brayden’s eyes laughed over the tip of his glove. “You aren’t going to believe this.” He held up the ball towards Dustin.

Dustin squinted to read the flowery handwriting.

Dustin, call me when your game is over. I love you. Clover

Joe, the first baseman, shoved his shoulder. “You dog.” He grinned.

The other guys hooted. Coach Wolfe glared. “Do you know this woman?”

Dustin nodded. “I’m in love with her.”

Coach huffed. “For the love …” But he didn’t try to break up the powwow.

Dustin reached for the ball and said absently, “Security took her.”

“I’m on it.” Ricky, the third baseman, bolted towards the batboy to give him a message, which would then be given to someone who would pass it to someone else who would get it to the head of security.

“What are you going to do about it?” Brayden slapped the ball in his hand.

“Are we winning?” Dustin asked. He couldn’t believe he didn’t even know the score, and he didn’t dare make eye contact with Coach after asking such a stupid question.

“Down by two.” Devin spit a wad of seeds at their feet.

Dustin ran his thumb over the writing. He stared down at it, his whole chest expanding. Clover loved him! She’d almost come on the field to tell him. He needed to speak to her. “Guys, I need this game to be over.”

Devin smacked him on the back. “Done.” He trotted to his place at second.

Joe nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Brayden cocked his arm. “I’ve got a few fastballs left in this thing.”

Dustin turned to Coach. “No offense, Coach, but can you get a move on? I’ve got a game to win.”

Coach’s lips twitched. He held out his hand. “I’ll take that.”

Dustin pulled the ball closer to him.

“Come on, you can’t have it out here, and I’ll keep it safe.”

Dustin groaned and slapped the ball into his palm. “I’m coming for that ball, Coach.”

Coach nodded before he turned on his heel and headed back to the dugout.

Dustin jogged to his spot and got ready. “Come on, Brayden, let him pop one up.” The fastest out would be a caught fly ball on the first pitch.

Brayden didn’t give Dustin the luxury of an easy catch. He did, however, throw three strikes in a row and gave them the inning. Dustin smacked mitts with him on the way in. “Let’s get some runs, boys,” Dustin hooted as he made his way down the steps. Word spread fast through the dugout, and the guys smacked him on the back or rubbed his head playfully.

Juan picked up a bat and headed to the plate. “I’m hitting this one for Clover, Dustin. Just so you know it’s for your girl.”

Dustin waved off his teasing and grinned. His girl. He liked the sound of that.