EXCERPT REVEAL – Hey There Slugger by Ginger Scott!

⚾️𝔼𝕏ℂ𝔼ℝℙ𝕋 ℝ𝔼𝕍𝔼𝔸𝕃 ⚾️

𝑯𝒆𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑺𝒍𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓: 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒅, 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒍-𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 (𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 2) by USA Today bestselling author Ginger Scott releases on March 19th. Check out this sneak peek! 

PRE-ORDER/ ADD IT TO YOUR AMAZON WISHLIST! https://geni.us/slugger

What to expect: 

⚾️Baseball Romance

🏘️Small Town 

🧍🏻Single Dad

❤️‍🔥Love After Divorce

👶🏻Nanny

😍Brooding Hero

💁🏻‍♀️Sassy Heroine

Excerpt: 

I end the night going four for four, two singles and two doubles, and I have to stick around at the field for a while after to talk to the local reporter who covers our games, along with the rep from the radio services. He gets a few soundbites from me, then I head down to the outfield gates that lead to the clubhouse.

Deacon rushes into my side first, then Riggs piles on, the two of them clinging to me as I slow walk my way toward Lindsey. Holly’s out like a light, her sweet face resting against Lindsey’s chest. I run the back of my finger along her pink cheek, the night air giving her a bit of a chill, I think. Lindsey has her wrapped up in a soft yellow blanket, though.

“You were amazing, Brooks!”

“Yeah, can you teach us? I wanna hit like you!”

The twins take turns tugging on my arms until I crouch down low enough to meet their eyes on their level. I tap a finger on Deacon’s bicep when he flexes to show me how hard he’s been working. He’s four, so the muscle isn’t real, but I play it up real good, and soon he and his brother are doing push-ups on the sidewalk in an attempt to out-train one another.

I stand back up and shake my head, ready for Lindsey to make one of her usual cracks about her hyperactive boys. But there’s something different in her eyes. I’m not completely sure, but I think perhaps she’s a little starstruck.

“Well, lay it on me. How did I do?” I run the back of my arm along my brow, then rest my hands on my hips in case she musters up her usual snarkiness. She bites her bottom lip, though, cutting off a bashful smile.

“Wow.”

Her right shoulder hikes up in step with her one-word review, and her lip is tucked between her teeth again. My body warms under her adoring gaze, and I think the heat I’m feeling in my cheeks is actually me blushing from her attention.

Well, damn.

“Coach put me in the two-hole, and I really wanted to step up,” I say, feeling the need to explain 

things to her.

She blinks slowly as her smile grows, her bottom lip slipping free of the grip her teeth have on it. For the first time since I’ve met her, she’s the one off her game. And I think perhaps I did that to her.

“I took a video for you. I know the team has lots of video, but when my dad used to coach, sometimes he liked it when we got a record of things from our point of view. Here . . .”

She leans to the side and pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, then hands it to me. 

I scroll to her videos, then play the most recent one of my last at bat. It’s not the greatest view, actually, through the safety netting, but the thought was sweet, so I stick with it as I take the first pitch, then back out of the box.

“Is that your daddy? Who’s that?” her voice carries through the phone speaker.

My eyes flit up to her as my breath hitches.

“Watch. You don’t want to miss it,” she says, and I return my focus to the small screen just as she flips the camera’s view to Holly’s face.

“Go, Daddy! Right, Holly?” Lindsey bounces softly with my daughter held to her chest, and 

Holly’s eyes fight to stay open. Then I hear the crack from my bat, and the cheering crowd, and Holly’s eyes widen with a yawn that I swear turns into a smile.

“That’s right! That’s your daddy. He did so good, didn’t he? Yay!” Lindsey waves Holly’s tiny hand to the camera, and for a few seconds, she giggles. My heart melts on the spot.

“Can I watch that again?”

“Mm hmm,” she says with a nod and a smile.

My eyes are misty, and I don’t care who sees me falling apart over this. I can’t believe Lindsey caught this moment for me. She steps in close to me, and we both watch the video play through again. Even the battle cries her twins are blaring from the edge of the warning track, where they aren’t supposed to be, couldn’t pull me out of this moment. I watch all the way to the end, until the video cuts out, then I send the video to myself and hand Lindsey her phone back.

I can’t blink when our eyes meet, and I don’t know how to thank her enough for something so small yet so huge.

“Linds, that was . . .” I pause with my mouth hung open, and my lips shift into a smile again as I shake my head. “I can’t thank you enough.”

We’re face-to-face, smiling like fools at one another, and the only thing I can think of doing to show her how much I appreciate her is to kiss her, but I know that’s not an option. And if I were to break this very thin wall we’ve built between right and wrong, I wouldn’t want to mix up the reasons at all. If I kiss this woman, I want it to be abundantly clear why—because I simply can’t help myself. And I’m getting dangerously close to not being able to hold back.

Blurt0:

Brooks Callahan is a star on the diamond. But when it comes to parenting an infant, he’s in over his head. Good thing I know a thing or two about being a nanny.

When my marriage blew up, my life was on the verge of spiraling. As a single mom of toddler twins with zero job prospects, I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table without living with my dysfunctional parents. But when my sister’s boyfriend gives my number to one of his teammates, talking up my nannying skills, I’m suddenly thrown a life raft. All I need to do is keep things professional. 

So what if my new employer looks great with his shirt off. And has blue eyes that literally reflect an ocean of possibilities. And stares at me with enough heat to melt a glacier. 

Brooks Callahan might be the best Sweetwater Mavericks player I’ve ever seen step up to the plate. But for him, baseball isn’t just a passion—it’s his path to survival. Our late-night talks give me a glimpse into every struggle he’s overcome to get here, and just as he thought his dream was crashing to an end, I show up and buy him an extra inning. 

When lines start to blur and quiet moments turn into temptations too hot to ignore, the careful balance of our situation starts to feel shaky. My heart was broken not long ago. And Brooks has kept his on ice for years. 

Could this sweet baby girl with eyes bluer than her daddy’s be an angel of second chances? And is this love we’re feeling real, or just the figment of our sleep-deprived imaginations?

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Find more books by Ginger Scott here: www.littlemisswrite.com