Go Away, Darling - Alexis Anne Page 0,34

I saw in my mind. Snap. Snap. Snap. This wasn’t a picture of Chris—this was an award winning pitcher caught in a moment in time. He stood and demonstrated something to another pitcher. They both made a face. Snap.

“Mom. Mooooooooom. I’m ready.”

Snap. Snap. “Okay. Let’s say hi.” I was flushed. My heart pounded in my chest.

I felt alive again. Especially because as I looked around I saw more and more and more. I wanted to capture the way Seth laughed as he dumped sunflower seeds in his hand. The puff of clay as a runner clapped his hands together. The look of hope as they glanced up at the lights.

“Hey bud!” Chris called, stepping up to the fence to fist bump Linc.

His eyes immediately found mine and sharpened. “What’s got you so excited, Liv?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Talk to Linc.”

Snap. The way Chris leaned down to talk to Linc was now immortalized in my camera. I flipped back through my shots as Chris explained the bullpen and introduced him to some of Linc’s favorite players. The pitching coach, Rex Little, was Linc’s favorite because of course a coach was Linc’s favorite. He signed a ball and handed it to my son.

Chris did that sexy man quick nod thing that in a simple motion indicated immediate response. I hopped to his side. He leaned close and lowered his voice. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too. The game has been exciting so far.”

He grimaced a little and looked up at the scoreboard. “I’d feel better if we were up by more.” Then, without looking, he looped his fingers through the chain link fencing and snagged mine. “So what’s got you so excited.”

“You’ll have to let go of my hand if you want to find out.”

“I can wait a minute.” His eyes danced.

I let mine dance right back. “I’m leaving right after the game to get Linc home and to bed. His teacher said he can come in late since it’s a very special occasion.”

“Is he having fun?”

“The time of his life.”

“So what’s got you so excited?”

I reluctantly slipped my fingers away and turned the screen of my camera on. I double checked that it was as perfect as I remembered, then turned to show him the image of him sitting and laughing.

He blinked. “Shit. Liv, this is stunning.” He leaned closer. “I feel like a goddamned work of art.” He looked up at me with so much admiration it took my breath away.

“No one can make someone this ugly a work of art.” Ruiz sidled up next to Chris and threw his arm over his shoulder. “So is this her?”

“Kid. Three o’clock.” Chris elbowed him in the ribs. “And yes.”

“I figured based on the bruising.” He cursed and rubbed his ribs which I doubt hurt that much. “Nice to meet you, Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Holy shit. Did you take that picture?” Ruiz leaned down just like Chris had.

Linc bounced back beside me. “My mom is a famous photographer.”

He flicked Linc a smile. “No kidding. This is really amazing, Olivia.” Then I clicked through the other images I shot just while standing here. Two ballplayers became seven, all of them whistling and drooling over my small unedited images.

I felt like a million bucks.

“I didn’t know you were dating a sports photographer,” Little whistled.

“I’m not...technically. I mean, I have shot sports before. Football in particular.” In college it was easy to make some of my projects sports projects, which incidentally got me on the field where my boyfriend/husband was playing. I also wound up doing some more in his first two professional seasons. But by that point it was about helping my husband out, not about creativity or art or anything like what I felt pulsing through my veins right now.

Ruiz pointed at my camera. “You coming to all the games? Because I’ll pay you for shots like that. I want to remember every minute of this for the rest of my life.”

The creative rust began to fall off. “How about this. I’ll work on getting press credentials and see where the creative juices flow.” It would take a few days and pulling some strings, but I could be on the field by the time they returned for the next series.

“Deal.” The guys all said at once.

And that’s how I wound up in a creative fervor. At night I was on the field, in the bullpen, the dugout. I was part of the action and a ghost all at once. I