by Lori Ryan
That didn’t mean he had to like the fact that his friend had just selfishly triggered the curse right in the middle of their season.
“You couldn’t wait?” he asked Rafe. “You just couldn’t wait until the end of the season to save us all from the curse?”
They all knew what the curse was: if one Striker fell in love during the season and got either married or engaged, two more would fall, for a total of three victims. And, every time that had happened, the team as a whole suffered. Record high injuries one year, missing out on a pennant they should have won another, distractions and errors when they should be at the height of their game.
Hell, a month ago, Rafe had been just as adamant as Aiden that none of them trigger the curse this season. If no one fell in love and got married or engaged, they’d all be safe and the season wouldn’t go to pieces overnight.
Rafe shook his head at Aiden, grinning up at him. “Shoot, you should be thanking me. Now you have a shot at happiness, too.”
Aiden grumbled under his breath as Gage Collier, their catcher as well as another good friend, picked up the paper. In addition to the picture of Rafe and Ashlyn, the columnist—who wrote as much about gossip as he did about the sport itself—spilled the entire story of the curse, along with the fact that Rafe Wilson had just initiated it.
Right there, in bold heading letters, the column screamed: “The Triple Play Curse: Which Striker Will Be Next To Fall?”
“How the hell did Brian James get wind of the curse?” Gage asked before turning to the other end of the locker room. “Hey, Denali! Have you been out drinking with Brian James again?”
Their teammate, Jason Denali, grunted an answer as he shrugged a shoulder.
“You run off at the mouth again? Tell him about the curse?”
Denali grimaced. “Maybe?” The tone of his question made it clear he wasn’t really sure himself. Denali tended to drink a little too hard and talk a lot too much, and Brian James had figured out that little weakness a long time ago.
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Great. I’ll have to spend the season with nothing other than strippers and my freaking hand lotion in the shower if I want to avoid this damn curse. Thanks a lot, Rafe.” Keeping women out of his bed seemed to him to be the best way to ensure he didn’t fall prey to the curse.
Rafe just grinned. Aiden shook his head and tossed his bag into his locker. Not him. He wasn’t going to fall. He wasn’t going to forget what he had going here. He was still young, a pitcher for one of the best teams in the American League, and he sure as heck planned to enjoy the benefits of that position for a good long time to come. Those benefits included women, gorgeous women, throwing themselves at him night after night.
Crap. With the exception of this season. Being with a woman now would be too risky. Nope. Strip clubs and hand lotion was it for the rest of this season.
Preview: Game Maker
Chapter 2
Lily Dupree carefully gripped the edge of the round drink tray as she balanced the three drinks in its center. Her second night at the Candy Shoppe Lounge wasn’t going any better than her first night had. During that first shift, she had tipped over more than a few drinks and broken several glasses.
She took a deep breath and steadied the tray, lifting it above her head as she rotated it gently in the air, as her friend Katie had taught her. The gentlemen’s club had a strict rule that the waitresses straight-arm their trays above their heads at all times. Lily was hardly cut out for waitressing, much less straight-arming a tray of drinks over her head through a dark and crowded room. She was clumsy on the best of days.
But, she needed this job. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to make her loan payments for the next few months, and she’d lose everything she’d worked for. Asking her parents to rescue her was out of the question. Her family was supportive of anything she did, but she wanted to stand on her own two feet this time. Calling them would mean failure, and that would be as bad as losing her business.
Lily shoved the thought aside and began to wend her way through the tables fronting the stage. She tried not to gape as one of the dancers on stage mimicked things with the pole that made Lily want to blush and run the other way. She’d never really thought of herself as prude, but good heavens, there were just some things you shouldn’t do with a pole. And, certainly not in public.
Only two more steps, she whispered under her breath. One more. She could feel the glasses begin to slide on top of the tray. She tilted her wrist to the left to compensate and knew almost immediately that it was too much. Too far. She tilted back the other way, trying to regain the balance, but the tray was hopelessly unsteady at that point. Her eyes caught on Katie’s from across the room just as the tray, the glasses, and all of the liquor in those glasses, came tumbling down.
Lily closed her eyes, knowing where those drinks were falling. Right on top of the guests sitting at table nineteen. A table of three men she’d been told were from the San Francisco Strikers. Players who often came in to relax after a game, ran up big tabs, and left generous tips. And one of them, a very tall, very strong looking, Greek god of a man, was now looking up at her from beneath his very wet hair.
“Oh, shoot!” she whispered as she saw her manager making a beeline for her, the jowls under his chin wobbling in anger as he worked up a good froth around his mouth.
Lily turned to the player, now mopping his face with a napkin. “I’m so, so sorry, sir.”
She didn’t get out another word before Donny was on her, jowls and all.
“That’s it, girlie. You’re out of here. I never should have even let you come in today. I knew yesterday, you were too damned much trouble to keep around. Klutzy as all get out and not much to look at,” he said, loud enough for everyone around them to hear, even with the booming music.
“Hey, buddy,” came from the sexy voice of the god she’d dropped all her drinks on. He rose to his full height and, oh my, it was an impressive height. “That’s no way to talk to a lady. And, besides, she’s a hell of a lot to look at.”
The big guy grinned down at her, and she was torn between being offended and the thrill his assessment gave her. But, she didn’t have time to analyze that. She was busy being fired. She did take the time to notice Donny’s sudden concern for the guest’s opinion, though. He turned to the big guy and began the kowtowing routine she’d seen him use on others.
“We’ll pay for your dry cleaning, sir. I’m so sorry. She won’t be a bother again. She won’t be working here anymore.”
The big guy laughed. “Dry cleaning?” He looked down at his clothes. “I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I doubt I’ll need dry cleaning. And, you’re not listening to me. I don’t want her to be fired. I want you to treat her with a little more respect. In fact, if she leaves, so do we.” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, who all shrugged their shoulders and nodded, clearly ready to follow his lead if that’s what he thought they should do.
“Now, Mr. Kyle,” Donny started and it dawned on Lily. The big guy was Aiden Kyle. The Aiden Kyle of the San Francisco Strikers. She didn’t follow baseball, but everyone who lived in the area would recognize the name and maybe even the face. Oh, that face. The mocha brown eyes and square jaw with a bit of stubble, framed by short-cropped brown hair. She wanted to stare at that face a bit longer, but the confrontation between he and Donny continued, pulling her attention.
Aiden Kyle raised a brow at Donny, crossed his arms over his extraordinary—truly, truly extraordinary—chest and stared him down. It didn’t take long for Donny to cave. Before she knew what happened, he was apologizing to her and telling her to try carrying the tray in front of her instead of over her head, then shooing her away without giving her a chance to apologize to Mr. Kyle again. Lily met Katie back at the waitress station and watched Donny fawn over the baseball players, before turning to her friend.
“I’m so sorry, Katie. I have a feeling I’m gonna cause a lot more trouble for you than you’d planned when you got me this j
ob.”
“Nonsense, honey,” said Katie, giving her a hug. “I believe in you and your business. This is the only way you’ll make enough money fast enough to save it. You’re living my dream, girl. You’re making your own life, building it up just the way you want it. I’ll be stuck slinging drinks for pervs forever. But not you, kid.”
They watched as Donny went back to his perch at the side of the stage.
“Besides,” Katie grinned at Lily, “I think you have a fan. Aiden Kyle hasn’t stopped watching you all night.”
Lily turned to see Aiden’s eyes on her and felt her cheeks flush. Even though she felt great relief at still having a job, she had to wonder what was motivating the man. She knew she was bright red when the next thought dawned on her. She turned to Katie.
“Katie, you don’t think ... I mean, you don’t ... Do you think he wants something in exchange for helping me keep my job?” She chewed at her lower lip, not at all prepared to go that far to keep her job, loan to pay or not.
Katie’s grin got even bigger. “Shoot, girl. If he does, have fun with that.” Her friend’s eyes turned to the table where the famous pitcher still sat watching Lily through hooded eyes. “That is one fine, fine piece of man.”