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M iranda stood at home plate, sun warming her shoulders as she posed with three of her players who’d made the All-Star team.

Their jerseys gleamed under the late-afternoon sky, and the stadium around them buzzed with pre-game excitement.

A cluster of little league all-stars in matching uniforms filled out the group, beaming for pictures and basking in the cheers that rippled through the crowd.

She was proud—of the team, the fans, the nearly sold-out stadium—and the progress they’d made. The Knights were winning again. Not just games, but hearts. Even her father stood beside her now, calm and smiling, radiating approval like it wasn’t still a shock every time.

Then a warm hand settled against the small of her back. Firm. Familiar.

She turned—and found herself staring into the helmet of the Georgia Knight.

Blue eyes—his blue eyes—winked out from behind the mesh visor.

“Lucas!” she gasped, breath catching in her throat. “What are you doing?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in against the plastic armor with an awkward clank. “Getting the girl,” he said, voice muffled but unmistakably smug.

She stared at him, frowning even as her heart pounded. “You’re insane.”

He lifted the oversized foam sword and waved it gallantly to the stands, earning a surge of cheers from the crowd.

Beside them, Cody Patterson grinned. “We need our good luck charm to win today.”

She looked up at Lucas again, who simply shrugged inside the costume. “What can I say?” he called over the rising noise. “I bring good fortune wherever I go.”

He swung his sword out dramatically, gesturing to the full stadium. “Exhibit A, madam owner.”

She glanced around—fans cheering, players laughing, the team stronger than ever. Her father shaking his head in half-hearted disapproval. Her chest swelled with something warm and wild.

She leaned in, lips brushing the edge of his helmet. “I think we’re going to have to keep you around a while, Mr. President.”

Seamus groaned. “Have some decorum, man. You’re the goddamn president, not a TikTok influencer in a foam suit.”

Gwen nudged him sharply, and he muttered a gruff, “Sorry.”

Miranda and Lucas moved down the line, shaking hands and posing for photos with the players and little leaguers. The energy crackled with joy and anticipation.

Then came the moment.

Seamus stepped onto the mound for the ceremonial first pitch. Miranda held her breath. He’d been practicing for weeks with his physical therapist, but sixty feet was still a hell of a distance for a recovering heart patient.

He gave Prosser the signal and let the ball fly. Not quite a strike, but close enough. Prosser caught it and jogged toward him, meeting Seamus near home plate.

“You’re doing a damn fine job, young man,” Seamus said as they shook hands. “I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. Keep it up.”

Prosser nodded, face glowing, then jogged back to the dugout.

Miranda stepped toward her father and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Dad.”

He squeezed her briefly. “You’ve done well, Miranda. I’m proud of you.”

Tears threatened, hot and sudden. She just nodded, biting her lip. Words were impossible in that moment.

Seamus offered his arm to Gwen, and together they walked off the field, hand in hand.

Lucas was beside her in an instant, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her in, anchoring her like he always did.

“You okay?” he murmured near her ear.

She nodded, the emotion still raw in her throat. “Yeah. He meant it. He’s really proud of me.”

“And why wouldn’t he be?” Lucas said, tipping up the visor of the helmet. His eyes locked on hers—tender, heated, unflinching. “You did all this.”

He pulled her against him, armor and all, lifting her off the ground slightly. “Now,” he said, voice rich with mischief, “I think the fans are ready for an encore, don’t you?”

Before she could reply, he kissed her—full and firm and sweet. It was fire and comfort, applause and intimacy, all wrapped into one searing moment that erased the stadium, the field, the noise. Just them. Just this.

When he pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, dazed and breathless.

Around them, the crowd erupted into whistles and applause. Maggie whooped. Cody pumped his fist. Gwen wiped her eyes.

Seamus looked like he wanted to say something… then thought better of it.

Lucas grinned, lowering his helmet back into place. “Now,” he whispered, voice teasing, “how about helping me out of this getup? You definitely owe me.”

She smirked. “Not sure you can handle me, Mr. Wainright.”

“Oh, I know I can’t,” he said, backing them toward the dugout. “But I’m damn well going to try.”

She slid her arm around his waist, laughing softly. The stadium roared behind them, but she barely heard it. All she could hear was the beat of her heart syncing with his.

If anyone had told her she’d fall in love on this field, she would’ve laughed them off the scoreboard. But somehow, Lucas Wainright had found his way back to her.

And love?

Love had come out of left field, unexpected and undeniable, changing everything.

“Always and forever, Mr. Wainright,” she whispered.

And meant every word.

D o you want to read more about the Knights? Coming up next is Dylan Prosser’s book. She’s fiercely independent. He’s emotionally guarded. But when a battered stray dog forces their worlds to collide, neither is prepared for the spark that follows.

Turn the page for a sneak peek of The Game Changer !