Page 18 of The Pitcher’s Proposal

“Okay.”

I take her hand and lead her downstairs. Dakota walks into my apartment and immediately stops. Her gaze moves over the tall windows, the furniture, and the open kitchen.

“This is your place?”

“You’ve already seen the outside.”

“I know, but this is ridiculous.”

I chuckle as I head for the kitchen. “Wine?”

“Sure.”

I open a bottle while she wanders toward the shelves beside the television. The apartment is expensive, but most of it was chosen by a designer because I didn’t care enough to choose anything myself. Dakota apparently figures that out within thirty seconds.

“You didn’t decorate this.”

“I picked some things.”

“Name one.”

“The television.”

She laughs and keeps looking. Then she goes quiet. When I turn, she’s holding a folded piece of paper. I know exactly what it is.

“You kept this?” she asks.

I smile and shrug. She opens it and reads aloud what she wrote months ago. “Kelso. Add an actual vegetable to lunch. Potato chips don’t count.” Her eyes lift to mine. “Why do you still have this?”

I bring our wine glasses over. “I like your handwriting.”

Dakota stares at me. Then she looks at the note again, and I can tell she likes that I kept it. I take the paper from her, fold it, and put it back before handing her the wine.

We sit together on the couch, and Dakota immediately resumes criticizing the apartment. Apparently it needs more color, more personal things, and better art.

I glance toward the painting she’s insulting. “New proposal.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Another bet?”

“Spring training. First start. Six scoreless innings, and you get to replace something in here.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“You’re going to regret that.”

“Probably.”

She holds out her hand. I take it, but instead of shaking, I run my thumb over her knuckles. Dakota’s smile disappears.

The room goes quiet. I put my wine down and lean toward her.

This kiss is different from the one up on the roof. There’s no chance of someone walking onto the roof, no reason to stop. Dakota shifts closer as my mouth moves over hers, and I slide a hand into her hair.

She kisses me deeper. I pull her onto my lap.

Her dress rides higher as she straddles my lap, leaving her thighs bare beneath the hem. My hands close around her waist, and for a second I just savor finally having her here.