Read Julia London for Free Online Page B

you agree to come
back on my show and let me ask you why.”
    His eyes narrowed. So did hers. And
Lucy the waitress chose that moment to drop two chicken Caesar salads on the table. “There
you go, sugar. The cook put extra chicken on your salads.”
    “Thank you,
Lucy,” he said, and gave her a smile that probably melted the woman’s underpants right off
her.
    “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Kelly muttered and picked up her fork. “That’s the
deal, Tex.”
    Parker grinned. “I’m game if you are.”
    Kelly put down her fork and stuck
out her hand. Parker took it in his big bear paw, and they shook on it. Only Parker didn’t
let go of her hand right away. He sort of held on to it, that charming little smile of his
curling the corners of his mouth, his eyes roaming her face.
    “May I have my
hand, please?” she asked politely. He let go. She wished Lucy would come back and fill her
water glass, because she was feeling a little parched. His smile went even deeper, and she
had the distinct impression that he knew exactly how parched she was.
    Kelly cleared
her throat and forked a piece of chicken. “This will be the easiest bet I ever took,” she
said.
    “I was thinking the same thing.”
    “I can’t wait for the game tomorrow
night. I’m going to listen to every play,” she said, and laughed, imagining him at bat,
swinging for the fences and hitting nothing but air.
    “Why listen when you can see it in
person? I’ll leave two tickets for you and Guido.”
    Actually, that sounded like a
perfect plan. “Seriously?” she asked.
    “Absolutely. It would be my
pleasure.”
    Not nearly as much as it would be her pleasure to watch him lose the bet.
And as the conversation turned to pitching, Kelly happily thought of all the one-liners
she would use when he came back on her show.

CHAPTER 06
    In the bottom of the seventh, the Houston Astros were leading the Mets two
to one, but the Mets had two guys on base and Parker was up to bat. He’d gotten a base hit
in an earlier inning, and that had boosted his confidence. But he was mildly disappointed
to look up to the seats he’d left for Kelly—choice seats, right behind the dugout—and see
them empty.
    Who knew why she hadn’t come? Frankly, it wasn’t a big deal—whatever he did
tonight would be repeated over and over again on ESPN and local news. But he was playing
so well, and he had an excellent feeling about this at bat, because the Astros had Orsen
Harbacker warming up in the bull pen.
    Orsen was a relief pitcher Parker knew almost better
than anyone else in the Major Leagues. They’d played against each other in high school,
together in college, and together in the minors and big league. Parker knew Orsen so well,
he knew Orsen liked to throw a sinking fast ball, which most guys in the league couldn’t
hit.
    But there wasn’t another ballplayer who’d spent hours letting
Orsen practice throwing sinking fast balls to them, either. Years ago, when Parker and
Orsen had played college ball, the two of them had practiced many afternoons in an empty
ball field.
    So when Parker stepped into the batter’s box with two men on, he casually
knocked the dirt from his cleats and lined up. He could see Orsen size him up, could see
him shake off the catcher’s first two signals. Then he threw a curve ball.
    “Strike!” the ump called, and Parker smiled at Orsen, stepped out of the batter’s box, adjusted his
helmet and his glove, and knocked the dirt off his cleats once more. Just as he was about
to step into the box, he happened to glance up to the seats behind the
dugout.
    Damn it if his pulse didn’t leap a little, because there she was, with Guido
beside her. He didn’t how he might have missed her before. She was sitting with her legs
crossed, leaning forward, her arms propped on her knee, watching him intently. She was
wearing a Mets baseball hat, a kick-ass top with spaghetti straps, and what he guessed was
some sort of short skirt—all he knew was that