Summary:
Midwest #3
Micah Warner is an asshole. Everyone knows it, hell, he knows it, but he’s focused on getting to the big leagues and earning the kind of paychecks that’ll help him take care of his struggling family. He can’t afford to get outed.
Justin Lamb is a romantic. Everyone loves him but his job with the Cougars leaves a trail of heartbreak in his wake. Getting involved with a player is risky but he makes an exception for the new hot-shot pitcher.
Their hooking up quickly develops into real feelings but when Micah’s catastrophic shoulder injury threatens their careers and relationship, they have one choice to make.
Love or baseball?
Touch & Go contains a cocky pro-pitcher with a secret soft side, a physical therapist with a man-bun and a talent for dirty talk, meddling friends, and a whole lot of baseball.
I was so glad to hear that Brigham Vaughn was continuing her Midwest series. Maybe it was being a lifelong midwesterner(born and raised Wisconsinite here), maybe it was the love I had for books 1 & 2, maybe it was being a huge baseball fan(and not nearly enough baseball stories in the LGBT genres), or maybe it was a little(okay a lot) of all three. What can I say? I'm a glutton when it comes to Miss Vaughn's work. Whatever the reason, I was loving the idea that it was continuing, now I'll admit that even though I was excited and purchased Touch and Go immediately late September 2019, I was snowed under my paranormal reading for October, then an early start to my Christmas reading, then mom's hip surgery, then Covid19 and before I knew it she was getting ready to release(and re-release 1-3) #4. So, I haven't been able to read Advance and Retreat(#4) yet but I finally said "ENOUGH!" and jumped in and read Micah and Justin's journey.
Yummy!
With the re-releases of 1-3 reaching new readers I don't want to give anything away(not that I would have anyway😉😉) but just WOW! I know the Cougars are a minor league team and despite being a huge baseball fan I don't really follow the minors, it was still a nice treat especially as 2020 has thrown the MLB for a loop(as we all have), it was nice to have "baseball back". Having followed Brigham Vaughn on facebook and recalling her questions about the game at a minor level, I knew I would be reading a well researched book, occupation-wise, which personally always makes the story better. I know it's fiction and I'm not strict in wanting no leeway when it comes to accuracy or lack-there-of but knowing the author went that extra step is always a plus.
Now, as for Micah and Justin. Love them both, and as so often I was in equal moments of smacking them with a frying pan and smothering them in mama bear hugs. It's almost become a measuring stick for me because I think wanting to take both actions to all parties involved makes the characters that more even-minded and perfectly suited. It's no fun for me when one character is always right and the other is always wrong, and it certainly not that way in Touch and Go. I think Micah has more growing to do because he is so far in the closet that at times it seems almost impossible for him to claw his way out. It's hard to imagine a story being enjoyable when one of the MCs is so self-hidden but watching these two men come together, grow stronger, and find that HEA(and I'm not giving anything away there because Miss Vaughn's stories always are HEAs) really warms the heart.
When you find a beautifully written journey such as Micah and Justin's in Touch and Go, you know you have found not only a winning read but also an author to keep an eye on.
Micah lost himself in the rhythm of lifting weights, the burn of his muscles clearing his mind of the anger and frustration and disappointment until a familiar figure loomed over him.
“Hey, you okay?” Justin asked with a frown.
Great. The last person Micah wanted to see right now. He’d been doing his best to avoid Justin since the awkward kiss the other night. “I’m fine.” Micah kept lifting, hoping he’d go away.
“If you don’t slow down and watch your form, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Justin snapped. “I came looking for you because Mac said you didn’t ice your shoulder after you were done pitching tonight. And you know damn well, lifting after pitching six innings is about the stupidest thing you could do right now!”
Irritated, Micah slammed the bar back onto the rack, then sat up. As if the words had conjured up the pain, his shoulder throbbed. He was drenched in sweat, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he’d been in there a lot longer than he’d planned. Shit.
“I’ll ice it now,” he muttered.
“I sent Mac and Francis home. You’ll have to put up with me doing it.”
“Whatever.”
Micah followed Justin over to the training tables. The room was nearly empty, most of the guys had left for the night already. Micah pulled off his shirt, then hopped on the table. Justin brought over the cold wrap and began fastening it around him. Compared to the ice packs, his fingers were warm as they brushed Micah’s ribs. Micah tensed at the touch.
“What were you and Wilkins getting into it over?” Justin asked quietly.
“You heard us?”
“The whole clubhouse did.”
“He gave me shit about my pitching tonight.”
“He’s a hot-head.”
“Yeah but I pitched like crap,” Micah admitted. Wilkins’ signaling had been terrible, but the shitty pitching was as much Micah’s fault as anything. “He pissed me off, but he wasn’t totally wrong. Couldn’t get my head in the game.”
“Any particular reason?”
Their gazes met and held. Micah swallowed hard. “Just had a lot on my mind.”
“What happened to all the cool, calm focus I saw in Peoria?”
“I wasn’t feeling it.”
“You can get it back.”
“I hope so,” Micah said quietly. He’d been so high on his pitching the other night he’d gotten a little too cocky. He needed to slow down and refocus.
Justin circled around behind him. “Jesus, is that from Wilkins shoving you?”
“What?” Micah craned his neck, trying to see what he was talking about.
Justin ran a gentle finger diagonally across Micah’s mid-back. Micah shuddered at the contact. “Sorry. You’ve got a mark here. It’s definitely going to bruise. Want me to ice it too?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Micah said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
Fine. He kept using that word but he wasn’t really sure what it meant anymore. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, his shoulder wasn’t fine. His game wasn’t fine. And whatever the fuck was going on with the physical therapist wasn’t fine.
“Hey, you okay?” Justin asked with a frown.
Great. The last person Micah wanted to see right now. He’d been doing his best to avoid Justin since the awkward kiss the other night. “I’m fine.” Micah kept lifting, hoping he’d go away.
“If you don’t slow down and watch your form, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Justin snapped. “I came looking for you because Mac said you didn’t ice your shoulder after you were done pitching tonight. And you know damn well, lifting after pitching six innings is about the stupidest thing you could do right now!”
Irritated, Micah slammed the bar back onto the rack, then sat up. As if the words had conjured up the pain, his shoulder throbbed. He was drenched in sweat, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he’d been in there a lot longer than he’d planned. Shit.
“I’ll ice it now,” he muttered.
“I sent Mac and Francis home. You’ll have to put up with me doing it.”
“Whatever.”
Micah followed Justin over to the training tables. The room was nearly empty, most of the guys had left for the night already. Micah pulled off his shirt, then hopped on the table. Justin brought over the cold wrap and began fastening it around him. Compared to the ice packs, his fingers were warm as they brushed Micah’s ribs. Micah tensed at the touch.
“What were you and Wilkins getting into it over?” Justin asked quietly.
“You heard us?”
“The whole clubhouse did.”
“He gave me shit about my pitching tonight.”
“He’s a hot-head.”
“Yeah but I pitched like crap,” Micah admitted. Wilkins’ signaling had been terrible, but the shitty pitching was as much Micah’s fault as anything. “He pissed me off, but he wasn’t totally wrong. Couldn’t get my head in the game.”
“Any particular reason?”
Their gazes met and held. Micah swallowed hard. “Just had a lot on my mind.”
“What happened to all the cool, calm focus I saw in Peoria?”
“I wasn’t feeling it.”
“You can get it back.”
“I hope so,” Micah said quietly. He’d been so high on his pitching the other night he’d gotten a little too cocky. He needed to slow down and refocus.
Justin circled around behind him. “Jesus, is that from Wilkins shoving you?”
“What?” Micah craned his neck, trying to see what he was talking about.
Justin ran a gentle finger diagonally across Micah’s mid-back. Micah shuddered at the contact. “Sorry. You’ve got a mark here. It’s definitely going to bruise. Want me to ice it too?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Micah said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”
Fine. He kept using that word but he wasn’t really sure what it meant anymore. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, his shoulder wasn’t fine. His game wasn’t fine. And whatever the fuck was going on with the physical therapist wasn’t fine.
He’d let himself think with his dick rather than his head, and look where it had gotten him.
Author Bio:
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.
Her books range from short stories to novellas. They explore gay, lesbian, and polyamorous romance in contemporary settings.
To stay up to date on her latest releases, sign up for the Coles & Vaughn Newsletter.
EMAIL: brighamvaughn@gmail.com
