Third Base by Heidi McLaughlin is being released by Forever and we’re excited to share an excerpt and some teasers to get you even more excited for this book.

Third Base by Heidi McLaughlin
Boys of Summer #1
Releases on June 7, 2016 by Forever
Ethan Davenport is already Bostonās most eligible bachelor. In his second season with the Boston Renegades he has set his eyes on the girl behind the visitorsā dugout.
That girl is Daisy Robinson, a journalism student at the University of Boston and a die-hard Renegades fan.
But with new found love comes challenges and Ethan and Daisy have to deal with his crazy schedule, school finals and his presence on her campus for some much needed media training.
For Ethan nothing can come between him and Daisy, until a secret that sheās been keeping threatens to destroy them both.
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Excerpt
I look at the scoreboard from the on-deck circle. Itās the bottom of the ninth with two outs. Unless we go on some miraculous run, the game is over and weāve lost, giving us our second loss in a row.
The Orioles coach calls for a time-out and approaches the mound. This gives Meyers, our right fielder, the opportunity for us to talk. Actually, it gives me the ability to stare at the girl that has held my attention all night. After my home run, I thought I could focus on the game, but each time I came up to bat or went out to the field, I was looking to see if she was staring⦠and she was, which really stroked my ego.
I meet Meyers halfway between the on-deck circle and home plate. Usually, weād stand back or talk to the third base coach, but thereās no coming back from this defeat. When I reach him, I can tell heās frustrated; we all are. Weāre a far better team than what our record shows. Even though itās still very early, our expectations are much higher, and with the road trip coming up, we have got to get out of this funk, fast⦠before itās too late.
āThis ump is calling shit.ā Meyers kicks the dirt around his feet.
āHas been all night.ā On any given night itās either in your favor or not. Some umpires come into a game with a chip on their shoulder. They remember everything, and they donāt let you forget it. They say once the game is over, itās over. Umpires donāt feel that way.
āPlay ball!ā the umpire yells.
Meyers goes back to home plate and settles in for what could be his last pitch. If he gets on base, Iām up. If he strikes out, my night is over. I rest my bat on my shoulder and watch – not Meyers, but the girl in the hat. Sheās leaning forward, resting her elbows on the dugout. I had every intention of finding an usher during the seventh inning but lost my nerve. I donāt know how thatād be received if our manager was to find out, and short of going into the stands the second the game is over, Iām running out of options.
Itās a swing and foul ball for Meyers, still giving me hope. The girl hasnāt moved, and something tells me that sheās focused on me. I should be focused on the game, but Iām not.
I lean over to the usher who stands by the field and whisper, āThereās a girl in section sixty-five, row c, seat one. Iād like to talk to her after the game.ā
He nods and says something into his really cool CIA walkie-talkie-type thing. When I first arrived, I asked if I could play with it. I was told no. It was a total buzz kill. I asked my agent to get me one, and he told me to grow up⦠not one of my finer moments.
Meyers goes down swinging and just like that, the gameās over. We lost three to eight. I wait for him to walk by before returning to the dugout, but not without one last look at the girl in row c. Another usher is walking down the aisle toward her. I climb down the stairs and pause where she canāt see me. The usher approaches her and talks wildly with his hands. She looks around, reaches for her bag, and follows him up the steps. I can only hope sheāll be in the lounge when I get there.
Right now Iām thankful Iām not allowed to give interviews yet because it means I can shower and get upstairs quicker. The reporters call my name, asking about my home-run. They know Iām not allowed to speak with them, but they try anyway. I keep my head down, my classic move after weāve lost, and rush into the clubhouse. There will be no after-game meeting; our manager will save that for tomorrow.
I shower quickly and slip into jeans and a t-shirt. My hair is still wet and dripping down onto my shirt, but I donāt want my third base girl waiting too long. I take the back stairs two at a time and enter the lounge. This is where the wives and girlfriends hang out, and now that I think about it, itās probably not the best place to have sent her. Itās like vulture prey in here for new girlfriends⦠not that sheās my girlfriend. I just want to know her name.
As soon as I enter the hallway, I find her sitting outside the door. She stands up when she hears me coming and keeps her hands behind her back, watching me closely. I come to a halt in front of her, and all I can see is the top of her hat. Sheās about a foot shorter than me, and I like that.
āI wanted to apologize for giving you the ball.ā I keep my hands clasped to avoid the nervous twitch I have. The last thing I want to do is scare her away.
āOh⦠do you want it back?ā Her voice is soft, sweet, and completely Boston. Hearing her speak makes me feel like I have something to look forward to, like Iām home.
āWhat? No, I thought I embarrassed you⦠Itās justā¦ā
My knees go weak when she looks at me. Her light green eyes are the color of sea glass, and she has a dimple that compliments her smile. I find myself wanting to rub my thumb over it so I can feel it.
āYou didnāt embarrass me. It was nice.ā
āWhatās your name?ā I ask, needing to know because calling her āthird base girlā or āgirl in row cā isnāt going to cut it.
āDaisy.ā
Daisy, I repeat in my head so I donāt forget. Daisy⦠like the flowers that my mother loves.
āIām Ethan,ā I stupidly tell her but feel like I should introduce myself. āWanna get out of here and grab some dinner?ā
She eyes me and then the ground, making me wait what feels like an eternity for her answer.
About the Author

Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell, Buttercup and a Highland West/Mini Schnauzer, Jill.
When she isn’t writing one of the many stories planned for release, you’ll find her sitting courtside during either daughter’s basketball games.
Website: http://www.heidimclaughlin.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHeidiMcLaughlin/?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HeidiJoVT
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