“But she doesn’t field like one.Jack’s got Emma and Mac, Carter’s going to ump so nobody gets hurt. Plus he’ll be fair. We’re filling in the rest with pickups, and some are unknown quantities, so until ... And here comes my ringer.”

Laurel looked over. “You drafted Malcolm Kavanaugh?”

The light of competition sparked in Del’s eyes. “He’s got serious skills, plus it evens things out.”

“The lineups?”

“No.You know, with Parker.”

“Parker?” Shock, then amusement, then her own dose of pity ran over her face. “You got Parker a date? Jesus, Del, she’s going to kill you.”

“Why?” Absently, he tossed a ball from hand to glove, hand to glove. “I’m not asking her to marry him. We’re just hanging out.”

“It’s your funeral.”

“Why?” he asked again. “Does she have some sort of problem with ... Hey, Mal.”

“Hey.” He caught the ball Del tossed him, winged it back. “How’s it going?” he said to Laurel.

“We’re going to find out.”

“Ball game, free food.” Mal, in worn jeans, a white tee, and dark sunglasses used the bat he’d brought with him to pop up a fungo. “Good deal. My mother’s hooked up with your Mrs. Grady and some of them.” He laid the bat on his shoulder. “So, what’s the lineup?”

“I’ve got you on third, batting cleanup.”

“That’ll work.”

“Laurel’s in right field, leading off. Her fielding’s crap, but she’s got a good bat.”

“My fielding is not crap.” She hit Del with the glove. “Keep it up and you’re not going to have any problem winning that bet, Brown.”

When she stalked off, Mal took an easy, testing swing. “What bet?”

Laurel strode straight up to Mac. “I want to switch with you. I want to play on Jack’s team.”

“Baseball slut. Okay by me, but you’d better tell Jack.”

She walked over to where Jack sat on the ground writing his lineup. “I switched with Mac. I’m on your team.”

“Trading the redhead for the blonde. Okay, let me figure ... You’re right field, leading off.”

Son of a bitch. Did he and Del have telepathy? Laurel narrowed her eyes. “Why right field?”

He flicked her a glance, and she saw him reconsider his response. “You’ve got a strong arm.”

She pointed at him. “Good answer.”

“How come you ... ? Hey. Hey, is that Mal? Del hooked Mal?” Jack bared his teeth. “So that’s the way he wants to play the game.”

“Let’s kick his ass.”

Jack rose to slap palms with Laurel. “I won the flip. We’re home team. Let’s take the field.”

She did just fine at right field. And not just because no one hit a ball in her direction, but because she was prepared.