Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance Read Online Free PDF

to her feet. “I really am. I’m not hurt at all. I’m doing great.”
    Apparently, no one believed her, because a row of perplexed faces stared at her.
    “You’re excused from the rest of the class,” Master Tao said. “You did well with the sparring. Keep practicing with Skye and be sure to turn in your entry fee for the next tournament.”
    “Thank you, Master Tao. I will.” Jeanine pasted on a smile and gave him the martial arts hand sign of respect, bowing. “I’m not scared at all. It’ll be a wonderful tournament. You’ll see.”

Chapter Five
    J eanine emerged from the dojo , still wearing her gi , the karate jacket tied with her black belt over loose fitting pants. It was after dusk, but she wasn’t going to ask the men in the class to escort her to the parking area. Not only was she not interested in any of them, she didn’t want anyone to think she was weak and fearful.
    As for Skye, the less she encouraged her, the better. Something about the way she pried into her personal life gave her the willies. The woman was probably lonely, having recently moved to Phoenix, but Jeanine had no time to pursue another friendship, especially with someone who lacked filters and seemed to act too familiar with a perfect stranger.
    She walked briskly across the street. She’d been late and the tiny parking area near the dojo was packed, so she had to park a block away in the lot of a tire shop which had an agreement with the dojo for their patrons to park there after hours.
    A stiff, dry breeze sliced through the v-shaped opening of her uniform and chilled the sweaty sports bra she wore underneath. Tiny hairs on the back of Jeanine’s neck stiffened at the sound of footsteps behind her. She increased her pace, pissed at herself for wearing a pair of slip-on gardening clogs instead of running shoes.
    When she turned the corner, she allowed herself a single peek, as if she were casually wiping her hair from her face.
    A man wearing a hoodie, with his hands bunched in the pockets, strode past her and headed toward a bus stop without glancing at her.
    She doubled back and crossed the street, cutting through an office plaza. The flashback she’d had back at the dojo had unnerved her and made her paranoid. Even though foot traffic was light, a stream of cars drove by and several couples emerged from a bar across the street.
    Jeanine hurried to the tire shop’s parking lot, but stopped short when she saw a monster truck parked next to her BMW.
    It couldn’t be his. No way. He hadn’t been up for parole yet, had he? But then, when was the last time she’d checked?
    She squinted and studied the truck. Its large F-150 body was dwarfed by the gigantic ridged wheels. The transmission and drivetrain were clearly visible under the bowels of the raised vehicle.
    His was a midnight black two-door truck. This one was black, but sported an extended cab. No one seemed to be inside the truck, but several teenagers on skateboards were kicking the tires and taking pictures in front of it.
    Jeanine tugged the lapels of her karate gi closer over her cleavage and looked over her shoulder, wondering if any of the other students were approaching the parking lot.
    Maybe it would be better to go back, pretending she’d forgotten something. She couldn’t just stand around dressed so noticeably in a white karate gi . But then, she needed to be at the bar to relieve Marcia. They’d agreed that she could have evenings off, as long as she covered the late nights. Now that Marcia had a baby and a family, she never closed the bar except for Jeanine’s one night off on Wednesdays.
    Jeanine turned back toward the dojo, hating herself for being chicken. The kids probably were no harm, more enamored with the truck than her late model BMW. It was that goddamn flashback that had her rattled. That and another set of footsteps following her. Someone was stalking her.
    Jeanine extracted a can of pepper spray from her purse and turned around, coming