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His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance
His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance
His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance
Ebook52 pages36 minutes

His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance

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Gloria Sanchez was never a baseball fan. That is until she saw the new pitcher for the Texas Rangers. David Gutierez, on television at least, was handsome and exceptionally charming. As soon as she saw him, Gloria developed a true interest in the sport. When he comes to the taco truck where she works before his first big game, Gloria can hardly believe her luck. 

Luck, it turns out, is exactly what David is hoping Gloria can give him. He has a tradition that's won him games ever since he was in high school. He always buys two dozen breakfast tacos the morning of a big game. He doesn't eat all of them, but he has to buy them. If he doesn't, the team may very well lose. His ritual seems well founded when he makes trips to Gloria's taco truck a habit. The Rangers have won every home game since they met. Gloria's starting to think that she is the reason David keeps coming back, not the tacos. 

When David asks her to come on a road trip with him and the team (with taco making material in tow), her suspicion seems confirmed. She's convinced that this is more than an attempt to win on the road. This is a real date. But what will happen when Gloria discovers that David is more interested in winning than he is in her? 

A Standalone Short Story with No Cliffhanger! 

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 19, 2018
ISBN9781386746034
His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance

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    Book preview

    His Lucky Charm - Baseball Romance - Kelly Cusson

    His Lucky Charm

    Chapter 1

    It’s too early for this. That’s all I can think as I stand at the tiny window of the mobile breakfast taco truck where I’ve worked for the past two years.

    It’s not a bad job, really. My boss, Gabe, is really flexible when it comes to my hours. With a full schedule at college, that’s important.

    And to tell the truth, I like cooking breakfast tacos. Always have. Ever since I was a little girl peeking over my mom’s kitchen counter in San Antonio, Texas, I’ve been fascinated by the foods she made.

    When I close my eyes, the scent of freshly cooked chorizo and eggs fills my nostrils and reminds me of home. When we’re busy, the sounds of people laughing, talking, and ordering all at once reminds me of home too.

    I grew up with three brothers and numerous cousins. Our house was always filled to the brim. Especially on Saturday mornings.

    That’s what’s different about working the truck. Early Saturday morning is our slowest time.

    It's seven thirty in the morning. I’ve made the chorizo, the eggs, and the beans for tacos. The tortillas are packed and ready to be heated. But there’s not a soul in sight.

    When I peer out the window of our truck and look around, I see nothing but other food trucks dark and boarded up. None of the other trucks in the center open half as early as we do on Saturdays. Not even the ones that serve breakfast food.

    Everyone knows that normal people go out on Friday nights. Therefore, it follows, that normal people would stay in bed on Saturday morning. No one’s going to be out looking for breakfast tacos at seven thirty.

    I’ve tried to tell Gabe that. I don’t know how many times I’ve suggested opening just a couple hours later on Saturdays. The way the other food trucks do.

    We’ve got to stay consistent, Gloria, he always tells me. It’s what our customers like about us.

    It’s easy for him to say, I think bitterly. He doesn’t have to get up at six in the morning.

    Gabe comes to work at nine am on Saturdays. Even though he doesn’t want to change our hours, he realizes that Saturdays are too slow for two people to open.

    So, that leaves me here all on my own.

    I stand for a few more minutes carrying the hope that someone, anyone, might pass by and have a desperate urge to indulge in a breakfast taco.

    When that hope proves to be futile, I grab the chair next to the grill, pull it up and sit down. If I’m going to be bored to tears, I may as well be comfortable.

    As the sun rises over the trees to the east, several food truck owners arrive to begin preparing their stations.

    Some give me cheery waves as they pass. I return some friendly calls of ‘good morning’ and smile at the sympathetic grimaces thrown my way.

    Most of them have been around long enough to know how Gabe works. And I know all of them think he’s as crazy as I do for opening up before nine am.

    By eight o’clock, a few voices have thankfully begun to fill the air. Chefs have started

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