Chapter Seven
A pounding on the front door of the ranch house woke Crush up later that night. He’d been tossing and turning, unable to sleep because he kept reliving that time with Wendy. He’d f****d up. Stepped into foul ball territory. If he could take it all back—especially the part where Teri overheard—he would. Dammit, he’d left her in the bullpen with strict instructions to throw fifty four-seam fastballs at fifty-percent velocity. What had she been thinking, wandering around the property eavesdropping?
He slid out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers. He loped down the hallway to the foyer, which felt vast as a museum in the dark of night. Flipping on the outdoor light, he looked through the peephole and saw a woman who resembled Wendy, except with wild and curly hair and steam p
