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"Well, at least the tickets were free," he said, over the sound of the crowd.

The look she gave him was eloquently martyred

"Everybody's supposed to like baseball games," he tried again.

"You don't," she retorted.

"Well, no, but I thought it would at least be something different! Hey, free t-shirt!!" He waved and yelled at the taut little blonde handing out spot prizes. The bikini-top she was wearing was perfectly suited to the early evening heat.

She snickered.

"My dad told me once that the only thing that makes a baseball game remotely tolerable is the beer," she said. She raised the plastic glass to her lips only to have a thrown t-shirt glance against her wrist. A cold, foamy splash of beer leapt to the front of her shirt. She yelped, still hunched from her attempt to evade, and glared at Miles whose stunned embarrassment had frozen him with his catch still extended in front of him.

The private tableau held for a moment unnoticed by the crowd around ...

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