But they hadn’t managed to get any more numbers on the board since a disruptive third inning. And now, at the top of the ninth, they would either move on to the tenth or win in spectacular style.

She was supposed to be rehabbing a young pitcher, but she couldn’t help it. She stopped what she was doing, mesmerized by the game. Phil was beside her in a second, and as he turned up the sound, all of the injured patients watched as well.

The top of the order was up, and Jake walked to the plate as casually as if strolling along a hiking trail. The applause was thunderous, but as he took a stance at the plate, obligingly kicking dirt all over it, the noise died until the ballpark grew stunningly quiet.

“Strike!” The umpire made the call to a succession of boos. The New Jersey crowd had reason for displeasure; they hadn’t been getting the calls, and the fastball was borderline. But Jake seemed unperturbed, still kicking and blurring the lines around the batting box.

The pitcher, a young reliever for the Nationals, smirked confidently as Jake finally raised his bat. This time a slider crossed the plate, and the shortstop nailed it with a line drive into the hole. As the first baseman scrambled for it, Jake got to the base with an ease that made it look effortless.

The pitcher shot him a look of disgust amid the roar of the crowd, and Jake grinned, shrugging as if to say he couldn’t help himself.

Furious, the reliever ground the ball into his hand, and then threw a sick curveball to Brian. The Sonics batter swung himself into knots as the umpire called the strike. It happened again on the second pitch, and this time the stadium grew silent. Pete signaled Brian, and he bunted the third pitch.

The third baseman and the pitcher hesitated for a deadly moment, stunned when they realized that Jake was headed for second, while Brian lumbered to first. By the time they scrambled for the ball, it was too late. The first two players in the batting order had done what they were supposed to do: get on base. And while it hadn’t happened in a pretty fashion, at the end of the day the Sonics had two men on and no outs.

The manager for the Washington team had seen enough and decided to make a switch. The reliever stormed off the mound as his replacement appeared, the team closer, a man with an almost perfect record. He warmed up with a few throws to the catcher, obviously confident about defeating the Sonics pitcher.

But when the next batter strode up to the plate, it wasn’t Derek. Pete had taken him out of the game and was utilizing his pinch hitter.

Gavin.

Jessica gasped, her heart in her throat. This was it: this was what they had been preparing for since the first day Gavin walked into the therapy room. Phil stood beside her as the heavy hitter walked up to the plate, his handsome face expressionless. Was he excited, scared, or worried that his leg might give out at a critical moment?

If he was, it didn’t show. And unlike Jake, who seem to toy with the pitcher by kicking the sand and grinning, or Brian, who glared at his opponent as if daring him to do his worst, Gavin was the epitome of cool. He simply assumed his position, those glittering dark eyes missing nothing as he held his arms in position, waiting for the ball.

The first pitch was low and outside. Gavin barely moved, but simply let the slider drop behind him, the catcher scrambling to contain it as the umpire called a ball. He didn’t pound the plate, or react in any other way except to wait. Jessica and Phil exchanged an anxious glance, but the batter just stared at the pitcher as if doing a mind meld, knowing what would happen next.

The curveball that followed was a called strike, but again Gavin didn’t react. The pitcher smirked and strutted like a rooster, and the only reaction he got out of the hitter was Gavin stretching out his limbs. When the show was over, and the ballpark silent, Gavin once more assumed his position and waited.

A fastball scorched through the air, but the Nationals pitcher didn’t even see Gavin make contact. There was a loud crack and the ball smoked across the field, and then dropped into the bullpen. By the time he realized what had happened, Jake was home, Brian right behind him, and Gavin strode around the bases in a walk-off home run.

They’d won the game.

“Did you see that?” Phil cried, turning to Jessica, who threw herself into his arms. “Oh my God, we are back in the game. The Sonics are going to the World fucking Series!”

The thrill that raced through Jessica left her breathless, and for once speechless. Her heart throbbed with pride as her guy, Gavin King, was surrounded by his teammates and drowned in Champagne. The applause was deafening, and when the reporters shoved a microphone in front of him, the hero of the day, he refused to accept the accolades.

“This was a team effort. No one man won this game. I am proud and happy to be a part of the Sonics. They are a great group of guys, and this has been an incredible year.”

“But how do you feel, having left California? This must have been quite a change.”

It was obvious the reporter expected him to be noncommittal. After all, having regained his health, Gavin could go anywhere.

“It was,” Gavin admitted, drying his face with a towel just as Cody rushed up behind him and doused him once more. He grinned through a veil of dripping wine. “And I have to admit, in the beginning it was hard. But now, I love where I am. New Jersey is a great place to live, and this is a great group of guys. But most of all,” he looked directly at the camera, “I met the love of my life here, Jessica Hart.”

A female reporter was all over it. “Isn’t she your physical therapist?”

“Yes. She not only got me back to health, but helped me remember the reason I’m here, while the Sonics rekindled the joy of the game. As it turns out, this move changed my life, definitely for the better.”

Phil looked at her, as Jessica’s eyes filled and she bit her lower lip in emotion. Gavin had just told the nation that he loved her, and loved being here with this team.

It didn’t get any better than that.

—

While they didn’t win the World Series in 2014, the Sonics made it to the last game. Pete wasn’t disappointed: as he told the media after the loss, they were now in prime position to contend the following year. They had Chase; Jake, who had just gotten engaged; and Gavin, who was healthy.

Popping his gum, he grinned at the camera. 2015 would be the Sonics’ year.

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to Erin Bosler, who within five minutes can save me from myself. And Gail Fortune, who believed in me from the get-go.

BY KATIE ROSE Boys of Summer

Bring on the Heat

Too Hot to Handle

The Heat of the Moment

The Heat Is On (forthcoming)

Appleton Sisters

A Hint of Mischief

Courting Trouble

Mistletoe and Magic (novella)