by Jody Holford
A couple of people pushed in on their conversation, asking for autographs and replaying the highlights of the game.
When one of the players came up and asked her to dance, she waited for Sawyer to say something. For him to suggest they dance. For him to send her a look, a signal, anything. When he didn’t, she decided dancing with someone other than him was better than letting him see the disappointment likely radiating in her gaze.
Shortly after the dance, Addie slipped out of Salvation. She’d looked for Sawyer and hadn’t seen him. This so-called relationship with him was, so far, not at all what she expected. She couldn’t do this if she was the only one ready to jump in with both feet. And when the hell did you decide you were ready to do that? As soon as he’d kissed her.
Addie got out of the cab, thanking the driver, and walked into her building, her heart heavy. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for dating a professional athlete. Especially one who didn’t seem ready to admit he was into her unless they were alone. Stepping out of the elevator, Addie was brought up short by the sight of Sawyer leaning against the wall next to her apartment.
Like a helium balloon released, her heart soared. She walked toward him and was almost toe to toe when he hooked a hand behind her neck and yanked her against him, covering her mouth with his own. Addie pressed her body to his, her hands roaming over his chest, up, around his neck, into his hair.
A low growl left the back of his throat as Sawyer moved them, pressing her back to the door. When he pulled back to stare down at her, both of them were breathing rough.
“We need to establish some ground rules,” he said.
“Like you not pretending you don’t know me when we’re out in a crowd?” She wouldn’t hide her feelings. She could respect his need for boundaries but didn’t want to be a secret.
“Every time I get close to a woman in public, it’s photographed and misrepresented. I don’t want that for you.”
“I didn’t like sitting next to you feeling like I wasn’t allowed to touch you,” she whispered, taking her fill now.
Sawyer pressed his forehead to Addie’s. “Noted. I’ll work on it. I didn’t like watching you dance with someone else.”
“Then next time dance with me,” she replied.
His low growl was muted by her going up on tiptoes to kiss him again. This time, she pulled away. “Are you coming in?”
Sawyer inhaled sharply and then stepped back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “I haven’t even taken you out on a real date.”
She smiled. “You know we’ll need to be in public for such a thing, right?”
He laughed. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to act or how you wanted to play things with the team there. With Isla and Liam.”
Addie stepped closer, putting her hands on his biceps. His hands came out of his pockets and gripped her waist. “I don’t want to play. I like you. When you’re not being grumpy or stubborn. If we’re together, I’m not into pretending we’re not.”
His mouth tensed, but he gave a curt nod. “You’ll hear things. They’ll print things.”
“I can handle it. I don’t care what anyone else says.” She thought, again, of the headlines. You’ll just have to get better at steering clear.
“Then I need to take you out.”
Addie was careful about who she let get close to her, physically and emotionally. She knew what she felt for Sawyer was bigger than anything she’d felt in the past. She didn’t want games and she didn’t want to wait to be with him in every way possible.
“We’ve been out several times, actually.”
He tilted his head, his face moving closer. “That is true. There was the night you kidnapped me.”
“The night you made me hold your balls,” she added.
Sawyer snorted out a laugh. “The racy poker game.”
She moved closer, looping her arms around his neck. “Your agent’s party.”
His eyes widened. “We’ve been dating without my even knowing it.”
Addie laughed. “Some things slip into your life seamlessly, making it feel like they were always meant to be there.”
Sawyer’s gaze darkened, making Addie realize what she’d said. The depth of what it revealed about her own feelings.
“Ask me again,” he whispered, brushing the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers.
“Are you going to come in?”
He picked her up, held her against him, her feet off the floor. “Yes. Now ask me to stay.”
“You’re bossy,” she whispered, pressing kisses along his cheek.
“You started it,” he whispered back. He put her down long enough to let her find her key, and when they went in, he pulled her close again.
Sawyer smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead. Addie’s heart shook at the tenderness.
“You’re something special, Addison Carlisle.”
“Back at you, McBain.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sawyer parked in front of the nondescript studio building next to the sign that read Free Parking. He turned off his truck and took a deep breath. This could be the start of something else. Something he wasn’t even sure he wanted.
“Just keeping your options open,” he told the empty cab. He rubbed a hand over his knee. It was tender to the touch. Last night, when he’d lifted Addie to carry her to her bedroom, it had given him a moment of uncertainty. Fortunately, the rest of the night he was distracted by all that was amazingly, beautifully, incredibly Addison.
He sighed and stared at the clouds moving in. Fall was well under way, but the air was still warm. He hoped they wouldn’t get rain for the next game. If they won, they’d take the series and the Slammers would be one step closer to what they’d worked so hard for. And you’ll have to put off any sort of healing and rehab even longer.
He stepped out of the truck, tucking his keys and phone in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t told Addie that Kipp Loeman called and wanted to meet with him. It had been a long time since he’d opened up to anyone, let alone a woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, and he wasn’t quite sure how to do it.
He walked around the building to the back of the studio as Kipp had said. If he wanted things to go well with Addison, and he did, he knew keeping things from her was the absolute wrong way to do it. But there was nothing to tell yet. And even if there was, if he was positive, right this minute, that he wanted to hang up his mitt and try sports casting, would it be a conflict of interest or something? His girlfriend worked for Slammers management.
Sawyer let out a heavy sigh as he buzzed the button at the back door. A guy wearing an oversize hoodie and baggy pants pushed the door open. He had scruff on his chin that looked like it wanted to grow but just couldn’t. Dark hair hung over the rim of his black glasses.
“Damn. Sawyer McBain. How’s it going?” He held the door with one hand extended so he could step to the side and let Sawyer in.
“Not bad, thanks.”
“I’m Michael Doyer. I work sound and production.”
Sawyer shook his hand and followed him through the back room that looked like it doubled as a waiting area and all-around lounge area. Oversize couches made an L shape and faced a television mounted on the wall. A fridge and small table were on the other side of the room.
“Come on back,” Michael said.
They went down a short hallway that led to a fairly standard broadcasting area, though smaller than most Sawyer had been inside of. One side of the room had a long, narrow desk with a green screen behind it. Two huge cameras were set in front. To his right, he saw Kipp and a couple of other guys chatting. There were two women inside of a glass-paneled booth. Clearly the audio room. It wasn’t a large-scale setup but it was clean, professional and, if his gut told him anything, could be the start of something.
“Sawyer, hey, man. Nice to see you.” Kipp clapped the guy he was talking to on the shoulder and came over, shaking Sawyer’s hand.
&nb
sp; “Thanks for inviting me. Cozy setup you have here,” Sawyer said, glancing around again.
“It’s not the big leagues, but a group of us are working to make it our own. I’m glad you’re willing to think about being part of it.”
For the next hour, he talked with Kipp, the station manager, the sound guy, the camera and production women, and felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. Whether or not he was ready to make a move toward a locally run small-town station permanently, he wasn’t sure. But he definitely liked the people and left with a smile on his face. A smile that widened when he saw Addie had texted.
He had practice, but he could swing by her office and say hi. As soon as the season was over, he’d take her out somewhere special. Maybe you shouldn’t wait for the season to be over. He’d hurt her last night. He’d seen it in the way she looked at him in the bar, the way her shoulders sagged getting out of the elevator.
Once he sent a text telling Addie he was headed her way, thinking maybe it’d be nice to take her out on a date that didn’t involve his agent or his grandmother, he started his truck and headed toward the stadium.
She hadn’t texted by the time he parked and went inside. He wasn’t sure where his career was headed, but he knew he wanted the rest of this season. It mattered. He couldn’t help but wonder how Cruz liked being behind the scenes. The first time he’d entered a stadium as a player, he thought he was having a heart attack, he was so overwhelmed and ecstatic. Somewhere along the way, he’d begun to take it for granted.
His heart gave a sharp lurch at the sight of Addison walking down the corridor. Damn, she was pretty. Soft and sweet with a sense of humor that surprised him and a backbone he admired. Two people were walking on either side of her; an older gentleman, wide shoulders, graying hair, shorter than Sawyer but definitely taller than Addie. The woman on her other side had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders. She was slight, sort of like Addie. As they got closer, he noticed two things: the woman looked just like Addison might years down the road and his girlfriend’s—that word seemed easier now—face registered alarm.
“Uh. Hi, Sawyer,” she said, her voice rising to a funny pitch. She looked to the man beside her. “Dad, this is your lucky day. Looks like you’ll get to meet a player after all. This is Sawyer McBain, the Slammers’ catcher.”
He eyed Addie a moment longer before he turned to her dad, nerves rising in his throat, and shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Carlisle.”
From this close, he saw that Addison had her father’s eyes. He shook Sawyer’s hand vigorously. “Pleasure is all mine, son. Great game the other night. You guys played hard.”
So hard his knee was still throbbing. Sawyer nodded, a strange feeling making the back of his neck prickle. He looked down at Addison and saw the tight smile, the flare of panic in her eyes, before turning to her mother. “You must be Addison’s mom.”
The woman shook his hand and smiled. “I am. Stacy Carlisle.” She smiled at her daughter. “I didn’t know you interacted with the players so much, honey. I thought you were behind the scenes.”
Sawyer stuck his hands into his back pockets, feeling like she must have last night—uncertain.
Her eyes darted around to each of them and she gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, well, Cruz is Isla’s fiancé, so that’s different, and Sawyer here is a good friend of Cruz’s. There are usually players here, especially with the playoffs. I wouldn’t say I interact with all of them.” Her eyes flashed wide and she looked at Sawyer. “I don’t interact with any of them. Just Sawyer.” He swallowed a laugh. She was nervous. “And Cruz. Because they’re friends. I’m friends with some of them.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow, trying not to be amused at the way she continued to ramble. After last night, he thought she would have introduced him…differently. She’d said she wanted that. He’d been the one to say he’d work on his public behavior. Not that he’d ever been big on PDA. But still, these were her parents, and they mattered to Addison. Was it just nerves or was she embarrassed by him?
There were several types of people in this crazy world. Some women loved being with a jock. Some women loved it in theory. Some didn’t care. And some didn’t want their well groomed, polished parents to think they were slumming it with an athlete who might be rumored to be a playboy or worse. His stomach clenched at the thought of Addie falling into that category.
“Ms. Carlisle, do you have a minute? I need to speak with you about the questionnaire before I head to practice.” He worked to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“Don’t let us keep you from your work, sweetie. Isla doesn’t pay you that crazy wage to entertain us when we surprise you. We’ll go look around,” her dad said.
Her mom looked at Sawyer and then back at Addison for a long moment and then nodded. “Yes. We’ll give you two a few minutes. Nice to meet you, Sawyer.”
“You as well, ma’am.”
He waited until they’d wandered far enough away to step closer to Addison, the woman who’d been muddling up his thoughts and making him think about all of the good things he’d closed himself off to. The woman who was making him think about the next day and the next day after that. About life outside of baseball. About taking chances and letting his heart feel something again.
The woman who clearly had ulterior motives and something she wasn’t saying.
“Sawyer,” she said, her voice breathy and already apologetic. He didn’t want her damn apologies. He wanted his mouth on hers and her heart to trip like his did when he saw her. He wanted her to look like she was happy to see him and not completely embarrassed and thrown off balance. You know better than to unchain all the locks.
“Guess I know where I stand, huh?” The night before, she’d given him hell for not declaring himself in public but she was doing the same thing right now. He hated that it hurt.
Her brows moved together. “What?”
“Are you trying to hide me from your parents or the fact that you’re dating a jock in general? They seem pretty classy but then, so do you. You sounded pretty sure about us being together last night but when it comes to introducing me to the folks, is it just too much? Maybe a playboy athlete nearing the end of his career doesn’t seem like much of a catch to them.” He hated his own words and thoughts.
Addie’s mouth dropped open, and she stepped into him, nearly touching him, which he did not think he could handle right now. She smelled sweet like sugar cookies, and he clenched his fists so he didn’t reach out and touch her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You heard me. You looked completely horrified at the idea of your parents knowing we were together. I actually felt bad for downplaying things at the bar last night, especially after you were upset about it. How is this different? Maybe I should go.” He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.
Looking down at her hand, he arched his brow and tried his best to look bored.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Sawyer Carson McBain.”
Now his mouth dropped open and a laugh almost escaped. She’d actually pulled the middle-name card. “You’re middle-naming me? I did not tell you what it was so you could use it against me.” Nope. He’d told her because that’s what couples did in the beginning of a relationship. And he’d found it charming she wanted to know.
She poked him in the chest, frustration making her cheeks flush pink. Why did he find even that endearing? She huffed out an aggravated sigh. “I was doing you a favor.”
He scoffed. “A favor? How’s that? Plus, aren’t we even? What was this supposed favor?”
She gave him a sweet smile laced with an “Oh-I’ll-show-you” glare. “Oh. Buckle up, mister, you’re about to find out and owe me an apology.”
With that, she turned on him and walked—or stomped—to her office. He followed, because he was confused as hell and didn’t know what else to do.
Chapter Seventeen
Addie felt like one of those cartoon characters with steam comin
g out of their ears. Part of her recognized that Sawyer had a hard time trusting and her heart—which he half owned already—ached for him. The other part of her, the piece that had been swooning over him since the first look and had her nearly doodling hearts and flowers around their initials instead of focusing on her job, wanted to smack him.
She felt him as well as heard him following behind her and knew her parents would have retreated to her office. She did not introduce her parents to boyfriends, and not just because she’d only had a couple. Mostly because she didn’t make time for them and also because her parents had a tendency to look a hundred steps into the future where Addie’s love life—or lack thereof—was concerned.
“Addison, what’s going on?”
She whirled on Sawyer, mad at him for not calling her Addie, as he’d taken to doing most of the time now. She was a successful, independent woman and had not let a man get in the way of anything she wanted. But what she wanted more than anything right now was for Sawyer to have trusted her; to have realized there was a reason she hadn’t introduced him as her boyfriend. And to have had a little faith in her.
“You’ll see in about thirty seconds. And once you do and you apologize, you’ll probably break up with me because what guy wants his wedding planned before his first real date? Not that hanging with your Grams and your agent didn’t count but—”
Sawyer gripped her shoulders in his strong hands and she had a flash of how good those hands felt moving over her body.
“Hey. Hey, breathe,” he said, bending his knees to look in her eyes. Her heart wanted to break out of her chest. “What are you talking about?”
Addison inhaled a shuddery gulp of air and stepped away from him, let her fingers link with his, and pulled him into her office where, as expected, her parents were poking around. Her dad was looking at the newspaper clippings of the Slammers on her huge bulletin board and her mom was tidying up her desk.
“Mom, Dad,” she said, hoping that even if Sawyer had trouble trusting, he wasn’t a runner.