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building where he rented a bucketful of baseballs. Then they walked into a cage with no machine.
    “We’ll start with me pitching a few to you to get you warmed up.” He leaned one bat up against the chain link fence behind the batter’s box, set the gloves on the ground beside the bat, and handed the smaller bat to her.
    She took it from him, stood in the batter’s box, and tried to remember all the things she’d learned as a kid.
    “Let me help you.” Tate moved behind her, his body heat, his touch, and his scent wrapping around her as he positioned her arms and instructed her on how to stand and hold the bat. “Good. Like that.” Approval was in his voice as he stepped back and she took a few practice swings.
    He scooped up a glove in one hand and picked up the bucketful of balls in his other before walking out a good distance away from where she stood.
    “Here goes,” she said beneath her breath as she waited for the first pitch.
    He didn’t pitch underhand to her as he knew she preferred a baseball pitch over a softball pitch. She swung at the ball and missed. That happened with the two pitches after that. The fourth she didn’t swing at but the fifth she hit. It popped up and Tate easily caught it with his glove.
    “You’re doing great.” He got into position again and pitched the ball.
    She grinned at him. “You’re just saying that.”
    “Like getting back on a bike.” He returned her grin. “Come on. We’ve got lots more balls for you to hit.”
    It didn’t take long before she was hitting pretty regularly. It was an exhilarating feeling.
    When the bucket was empty, they went into one of the auto-pitch cages. She watched as Tate hit one after another. It was like he couldn’t miss and his form was incredible. From his pitching to fielding to batting, it was easy to see why he’d been recruited to play college ball. Not that she was an expert by any means. But she did enjoy watching a good game of baseball.
    “You’ll have to join in on the McBride versus Johnson families games next summer,” Tate said to her. The McBrides and the Johnsons were the two biggest families in the area and their baseball rivalry was legendary throughout the valley.
    “Hatfields and McCoys,” she said with a laugh.
    His look was teasing. “Except for no dead bodies.”
    “That we know of,” she said solemnly.
    He shook his head with an amused expression. “Not yet.”
    It was lunchtime when they’d finished. Jo felt more light-hearted and happier than she’d felt in a long time. Her cheeks actually hurt from laughing so much.
    “Please tell me we’re going to eat now.” She held her hand to her rumbling belly.
    “Yep.” He took her by the hand. “I’ve got just the place.”
    His hand felt dry and warm, and his grip gave her a pleasant feeling in her midsection. He led her to the arcade side of the building and she grinned as they went up to the concession window.
    “Chili dog?” he asked. “With onions?”
    “Of course.” She smiled at him, refusing to think of calories and weight.
    “Just one chili dog?” he asked and she nodded.
    He turned to the man behind the concession window and put in an order for three chili dogs with onions, two orders of curly fries, two Pepsis and two pieces of wrapped chocolate cake. Jo bit her lower lip as he ordered so much. He’d probably expect her to eat everything he’d bought for her. They sat at one of the picnic benches outside the arcade once they had their order.
    When she bit into her chili dog she closed her eyes. It tasted better than she remembered. She opened her eyes and he was biting into his own chili dog while he watched her. She ate a few curly fries, drank part of her Pepsi, and took a bite of the cake. He didn’t say anything about her not eating everything.
    Even though she still watched what she ate, for once she didn’t have the bad feelings in the pit of her stomach telling her she was eating too much and she didn’t feel like