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And the team continued to win, further solidifying his opinion she really was a lucky charm.
Emmy’s cab arrived before there was any sign of his town car, so as she ducked into the vehicle he climbed in beside her, surprising her as he shut the door.
“Excuse me,” she snapped, hugging her duffel bag close to her side and looking ready to spit venom before she recognized it was him.
“You get into the New York spirit quickly.” He relieved her of the bag and put it on his opposite side, sliding close to her so their hips were touching.
“You sneaky bugger.” Emmy squeezed his thigh and gave him a kiss on the lips as they pulled away from the curb.
“No funny business,” scolded the taxi driver.
“Do you have a lot of people trying to have sex in the back of your cab at ten thirty in the morning?” Tucker asked, meeting the man’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Ten thirty in the morning. Ten thirty at night. No difference. No funny business.”
“Just giving my lady a little PG-13 loving. Nothing immoral, I swear.”
The driver grumbled something but stopped lecturing them, and Tucker took the risk of further cabbie vitriol by slipping his hand between Emmy’s thighs. The soft material of the yoga pants she wore before games left nothing to the imagination. The firm, toned muscle of her legs and the heat radiating off her skin made him think about all the filthy things they’d recently been forbidden from doing.
Which made him want to do them all the more.
He kissed her neck and brushed his lips against her ear. “Want to get up to some funny business?”
Her fingers twitched on his leg, and he could feel her cheek rise up in a smile.
“Mr. Lloyd. We’re being watched.”
The cab driver’s glare filled the rearview mirror, and it was lucky they were in bumper-to-bumper traffic or Tucker would have worried about the cabbie not watching the road. Instead he gave the man a look of wide-eyed innocence but rubbed Emmy’s crotch with focused strokes of his pinky finger.
She pursed her lips and her hand went to his wrist, but she didn’t push him away.
Again he leaned close and breathed lightly into her ear. “I might need a little extra luck today.”
Emmy laughed loudly, bringing the full attention of the driver to the backseat and almost causing them to rear-end another cab ahead. “How about you win the game and then we see about you getting lucky, okay?”
He kissed her cheek, trying to tamp down his half-mast. “Seems like as good a reason as any to win the game.”
“I can think of a better one.” Her tone was more serious than it had been a moment earlier.
Tucker withdrew his hand and looped his arm around her shoulders. Emmy leaned her head against him, and they both sat back, watching the city crawl by.
“I’m going to do it, you know,” Tucker stated.
“Win?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you are. You like having sex with me way too much to lose.” She kissed his chin.
“If I’d known at the start of the season winning was all it would take, I’d have tried a hell of a lot harder.”
Emmy hadn’t spent a lot of time in old Yankee Stadium as a kid. Her father had played for a National League team, so most of her earliest New York baseball memories were of the Mets at Shea Stadium. Now Shea, like old Yankee Stadium, had been closed to make way for a newer, fancier park.
During her run with the White Sox, she’d gotten to know the new Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. But being raised a Cubs fan made her long for a ballpark in the city with real roots, and New York didn’t have one anymore.
For a city that could boast being home to two of the oldest teams in baseball, and the breeding ground for the L.A. Dodgers—formerly of Brooklyn—and other major league teams, they didn’t seem to have much respect for baseball history.
She loved old parks. Whenever she was in L.A. she visited Elysian Fields and reveled in the Art Deco glory of Dodger Stadium. All the fields in New York were too new, too glossy and corporate. They were more about selling merchandise and overpriced hot dogs than they were about being temples to the game.
