I lean in close, pressing my weight against her, my lips inches from her ear, excited breath hot on her neck, “If you close your legs again before I...ask you, I’ll make sure you regret the decision.” Her legs immediately return to their original position. I slide my hand to the midway point of her thigh, bringing the hem of her dress with it. My fingertips slowly trace the line where goose-bumped flesh meets the cool, faux leather of our booth cushion. “Wider,” I whisper softly, my fingers. "Why don't you call him, Bob? You're his fellow third baseman." You call," Crandall said. "You're the one who found him. And his mother sent you the note." Actually, he found me," I told him.I had mixed feelings about my "special" note from Maureen O'Conner. She had singled me out as lead-Oriole in the Nolan Ryan Fan Club, whereas I had the feeling that Zeke and Bob Crandall had contributed just about as much time and energy to the little project as I had.Additionally, I had a mild case of the. More

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