Fisher's Light

Page 63

“Why didn’t I hear about these stupid rules?” my father grumbles.

Lucy leans up on her tip toes and snatches the baseball cap from my head and puts it on her own, pulling her ponytail through the hole in the back before grabbing a bat from the holder beside my father. “I’m sure you were too busy trying to take over the world to pay attention at the last town meeting. It’s a good thing you have me.”

She moves past him and out of the dugout, putting a little extra swing in her hips as she goes. My father throws his cap across the dugout and I laugh right in his face before moving to the opening so I can get a better look at Lucy’s ass.

I mean, yell some encouraging words as she practices her swing.

Seriously though, those tiny black cotton shorts she’s wearing have been torturing me all day and watching her lean forward and stick out her ass as she gets ready for the first pitch is making me sweat. My heart is also thundering a little harder in my chest that she’s wearing my cap, something she’d always done. Even when she’d bring her own hat to the game, she’d always take it off and steal mine when she was up to bat, arguing that it brought her good luck. It was an outright lie because she never got a hit whether she wore my hat or not, but it still made me feel good to see her wearing it. She looks so fucking hot in that white Butler House tank top and tiny black shorts with my baseball hat on her head.

“Let’s go, Lucy! Homerun!”

The crowd screams and cheers when they see her up to bat and now I’m nervous as hell. She played softball her senior year of high school, and let’s just say she spent a lot of time on the bench. We’ve played in many games together since she started running Butler House, and her skills hadn’t really improved, either. It didn’t matter to her because she was playing for fun, but I really want her to show up my father and make him look like an ass.

The first pitch comes and flies right by her.


“Well, there goes this year’s trophy,” my father mutters in irritation behind me.

“Come on, Lucy! You can do this!” I shout to her, ignoring my father.

She tightens her grip on the bat, shaking her hips a little as she gets into stance. My dick immediately wakes up in my shorts and starts panting.

The next pitch comes and she swings a second too late.


Half the crowd boos while the other half cheers and I step out onto the dirt and yell for a time-out. Butch, who’s the ump today, backs away from the plate while I jog over to Lucy.

“Shit. I forgot how much I suck at softball,” Lucy laughs nervously as I approach her.

“You’re doing fine,” I tell her. “Just choke up on the bat a little.”

Grabbing her hands, I move them up the neck of the bat. She looks up at me and I don’t remove my hands from around hers on the bat as I stare down into her blue eyes. I take another step closer to her until our toes are touching and I can feel her breath on my face.

“Keep your eyes on the ball the entire time, from the second it leaves the pitcher’s hand until it connects with your bat,” I tell her softly.

Sliding my leg between hers, I tap the instep of her foot with my toe.

“Spread your feet apart a little wider. You’re stance is too tight.”

Lucy leans into me when she moves her feet apart and I take a deep breath, inhaling the coconut scent lingering on her skin. Her eyes still haven’t left mine and my hands still haven’t let go of hers around the bat. I beg my dick to stay at ease and not jump up and poke her in the stomach.

“If it helps, imagine the ball is my head and you should be able to knock that thing out of the park,” I tell her with a soft smile.

Her cheeks flush pink and I’m hoping it’s because of my close proximity and not the sun blazing down on top of us.

“I think I got it,” she whispers back, making no effort to move away from me.

“If you two are finished canoodling, can we get back to the game?” Butch asks, coming right up next to us.

We both turn our heads to see him smiling at us. He gives us a wink before pulling his face guard down from the top of his head.

I back away from Lucy and give her an encouraging smile, even though all I want to do is tackle her to the ground and fuck her on top of home plate.

“You can do this, Lucy. Eye on the ball.”

I clap loudly and continue cheering her on as I walk backwards towards the dugout.

As soon as I’m in the opening of the cage, my father comes right up next to me.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks in irritation.

“I was giving her a few pointers. Something you should have done as the team captain,” I explain sarcastically, trying my best not to lose my cool since the entire team has gotten up from the bench and is standing all around us cheering Lucy on.

“You were making a spectacle of yourself in front of the entire town. She has a boyfriend, who is in the stands and no doubt saw that entire display,” he says quietly with an edge to his voice. “Congratulations, you just made her look like the whore I always knew she was.”

My hands clench into fists at my sides and I get ready to spew as much hate at him as I can, but someone beats me to it.

“Shut the hell up, Jefferson,” my mother reprimands.

I didn’t even see her come down to the dugout, but I notice she’s carrying a small cooler filled with water bottles and must have been passing them out while I was with Lucy.

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