“Last door on the right, I would be so grateful. How about I order us some pizza? Are you hungry?”
He rolls my suitcase down the hallway of my apartment and quickly appears, hands in his sweats pockets. “I should actually get going.” My hope of a night of Cory tumbles down. “Ah shit, don’t give me those sad eyes.” He walks up to me and takes my hand in his only to bring it up to his lips and press a kiss across my knuckles. “I should really get a workout in and get my life sorted after vacation. Schedule some time in the cages as well.”
“I understand,” I say, knowing full well the time and dedication being a professional baseball player takes.
He sighs and lifts my chin to his mouth where he works his lips along mine. Soft but intense at the same time, he sends shivers down my limbs with every pass of his mouth, and I can feel how much he regrets not hanging out with me tonight.
When he pulls away, he asks, “Can I take you out tomorrow night?”
“Yeah?” He nods. “I would love to. Are we talking fancy or fun?”
“Up to you. Do you want fancy or fun?”
“Would it be cliché to say fancy? I really want to dress up for you.”
His hand falls to the small of my back as the corner of his lips turn up. “Dress up, huh? Does that mean a tight dress where I can see all of your curves?”
“Is that what you want?”
He nods and bites his bottom lip. “Especially something that shows off your ass.”
“Cory Potter.” I press my hand against my chest, feigning innocence. “Are you an ass man?”
“I wasn’t until the first day on the boat in St. Croix, when I caught the sight of half your ass cheeks out in the sun.”
“Ugh, that bathing suit was a mistake. I didn’t think it was going to be so revealing.”
“I’m not complaining at all. If you want to wear that tomorrow night, by all means, feel free.”
I chuckle. “So you’re not one of those men who goes all alpha on their girl and doesn’t want other people staring at them?”
He reaches around me with both arms and says, “They can stare all they want, because there’s one thing for sure, I know exactly who you’re going out with . . . and that’s me.”
Chapter Nineteen
CORY
“I can’t believe you’re going to be my brother-in-law. Carson thought he was so cool marrying into the family, well look who also has a golden ticket to the land of Potter.” Jason points both of his thumbs at himself like a cheese dick. “Me. This guy right here.”
I lift a forty-five-pound plate onto my bench press bar and then work my way to the bench. “Glad to see you’re not making a big deal out of this.”
“Do you even know me?” Jason asks, walking around the bar to spot me. He showed up while I was on my last rounds of working out. I just finished in the cages, getting some tee work in so I could loosen my back, and I’m finishing out with some weightlifting. Nothing too serious, but just prepping my body for when I turn up the dial on preseason workouts. “Big deal is my middle name.”
I grip the bar, position my hands so they’re just right, and then lift the bar off the rack. The weight sits immediately into my shoulders and chest, enough that I know this is my last round. With precision, I slowly lower the bar down until it hovers just above my chest and then in an explosive move, I force it back up with a quick press.
Slow and then fast.
Slow and then fast.
I repeat this move eight times and on the last one, I feel my entire body shake just like it should as I make it to the rack just in time. I sit up and drape my arms over my legs, catching my breath from the exertion.
Thirty-five and I can fucking feel it. I know my career is coming to a sharp end soon, but I’m going to stick it out for as long as I can. And this year means more to me than any other year because after such a shitty second half of the season last year, analysts are starting to wonder if my “producing” years are over.
Even though I can feel the ache in my bones right now, I know it will subside once I immerse myself fully. The first few days back are always the hardest, but with each passing day it will get better and better. I treat my body with respect, which is one of the reasons I’ve never been seriously injured during a season. I eat extremely well, work out almost every day, and I’m a big proponent for aftercare, making sure you spend time in the training room, icing, massaging, returning your body back to where it was so you’re fresh for the next day. It’s why I also haven’t had time for a relationship.
But with Natalie, that’s going to be different.
Hell, all I wanted to do yesterday was lounge on her couch with her and share a pizza, but I also knew that since my head was on straight, I needed to get a small workout in, something to help me break vacation mode.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t call her last night and talk for over an hour about pretty much nothing.
And it doesn’t mean I didn’t text her this morning, asking if she was excited for our date tonight. Or that I haven’t text her throughout the day when I’ve had a chance.
From the conversation we had last night, attentiveness is important with her. That and open communication. It was a brief mention of her ex, but it was something I picked up on quickly and made a mental note of it. She deserves so much more than that guy gave her, and even though my life is crazy and will pick up quickly, there are two things I’ll handle well—communicating and being attentive.
Jason removes the weight from the bar for me and says, “She said you’re taking her out tonight. Where you headed?”
I turn toward him, still catching my breath. Even though Jason is annoying at times—funny annoying—I know he’s the reason Natalie didn’t leave my building yesterday. When we were driving to Natalie’s place, she told me she was talking to Jason on the phone when I found her in the hallway, and that he gave her the courage to give us a try.
And for that, I will always be grateful.
“I thought about it and she said she wanted fancy last night, and what’s more fancy then Neptune’s Rooftop?”
“Oh . . . damn.” Jason’s mouth falls open. “You got a reservation?” I give him a look and he laughs. “Of course you did. You’re Cory Fucking Potter. Did you by any chance get that reservation for three?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “In your dreams.”
“Yes, yes, it has been in my dreams.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” I stand and bring my arms up and over my head, stretching. “I’m headed to get some ice and work my muscles.”
“Mind if I follow you?” When I glance back at him, he holds up his hands and laughs. “Not in a creepy, I’m stalking you way, but I would like to talk to you about something.”
“About Natalie?” He nods, so I take him by the shoulder and walk him down to the training room. “What’s on your mind?” I swoosh the door open and let him in first. There are two trainers working but for the most part, the stadium is pretty dead. It’s one of my favorite times of the year. You get to train, but in peace, without the hustle and bustle of everyone getting ready for the next game.
We head to two black training tables where there are percussive therapy devices set up. I pick one up, stretch my legs out in front of me and get to work. I glance up at Jason and say, “Are you going to speak?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He shakes his head and then asks, “Do you do this after every training?”
I chuckle from his change of subject. “Yes. It’s vital. It’s why I haven’t been seriously injured. Something you should consider given your position as catcher.”
He slowly nods and then asks, “Think you can help me with my cool down, show me what you do? I want to be able to play when I’m older, and we all know being a catcher puts a shorter timeline on my career.”
I pat his back. “I got you. Now tell me what you want to talk about.”
“Yeah.” He sits on the table across from me, his eyes fixed on where I’m usin
g the Theragun on my quads. “I don’t want to come in here like a big brother and try to scare you off, but I do feel like I have the responsibility to tell you something about my sister.”
“Anything that will help make this relationship grow, I’m all ears.”
He smiles softly at me. “I’m sure she’s talked about her ex, how he cheated on her, the lack of communication, all of that.”
“Yeah, how you didn’t destroy the motherfucker with your bat is beyond me.”
“She told me when we were on an impromptu vacation. I almost flew back to the States in my bathing suit to murder him. She told me he wasn’t worth my time. Still not sure I agree with that.”
“Me neither,” I answer honestly, unsure of how any man could treat a woman so terribly. Or anyone for that matter. I’ve always prided myself on being kind to people, no matter who they are. Although, if I ever saw Ansel in person, not quite sure how kind I’d be.
“But he damaged her self-esteem. She considered you out of her league, that she wasn’t good enough, and she thinks she’s damaged goods. I know I don’t have to say this to you, but I figured I would anyway. If you’re not serious about her, please don’t go far with this only to break her heart. I’m not sure what it would do to her.”
I nod, hating that Natalie, this beautiful and vibrant woman who captured me with just a smile from across the room, could have so much self-doubt.
I switch off the Theragun and level with Jason. “I appreciate you telling me that. And I’ll be honest with you. Milly has been trying to get me to date for a long time, and I’ve turned down the idea repeatedly. But then I saw your sister at your fundraiser. I saw her smile first, heard her laugh second, and then fell for her eyes third. Something shifted inside me that night. I called Milly afterward, telling her all about my conversation with Natalie, how I was going to ask her out, how I felt this connection, this strong pull that I’ve never felt before. And when she told me Natalie was married”—I shake my head—“I felt defeated. Luckily for me, no one knew she was going through a divorce. I didn’t know that until St. Croix. My point is, I know she’s special and not because of what people have told me about her, but from the way my body reacted to her. I’ve never wanted a relationship during a season until her, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make sure it works out.”
I haven’t seen this side of Jason Orson before. Completely serious. Devoted. Straight-faced. Natalie is lucky that she has him in her corner. And now she has me.
“That’s all I wanted to hear.”
* * *
Standing tall, I knock on Natalie’s door and then stick my hands in my pants pockets. I’m not going to lie . . . I’m a little nervous.
After I left the stadium, I spent a good hour—yeah, a fucking hour—trying to decide what to wear. The thing about Neptune’s Rooftop is they have a strict dress code and I only have a few suits that fit me right now. I’ve put on some muscle, so the shoulders and arms are tight on my jackets, leaving me with two options. I chose my navy suit, paired it with a light blue button-up—thankfully we don’t have to wear a tie—and styled my hair with more product than normal. I must have looked at every angle of my body at least a dozen times before I left to come pick up Natalie and finally settled with “hopefully she thinks I look good.”
I wait impatiently, desperate to see her again. It’s been twenty-four hours, and after spending a week with her at my side almost every hour, it feels like a lifetime since I’ve been able to look directly into her deep blue eyes.
Heels click across the floor, announcing her approach.
Holy.
Fuck.
Hair curled in that wavy way I like, she’s holding on to the door edge, wearing one of the hottest dresses I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t have a deep neckline showing off her tits, and it’s not short, giving me a peek at her legs, but it is skintight, so I’m enjoying every inch of her fantastic curves. And when I say skintight, I mean there is no doubt in my mind she’s not wearing underwear right now.
The dress crosses over her delicate collarbone and suctions all the way down her sleek arms. Her chest is framed, highlighting her large breasts, only to be deceived by her waist and then flare out at her hips and ass. The dress falls just past her knees, and she’s paired the maroon color with nude heels that make her calves look fucking phenomenal.
She fucking showed up tonight, and I’m feeling like I’m not dressed up enough to be taking this girl out on my arm.
I drag my hand over my mouth and take her in one more time. When my eyes return to her face, she’s blushing, but also has a sense of pride in her eyes—just what I like to see.
Reaching out, I slide my hand along her waist, loving the buttery feel of the fabric of the dress, and I lower my lips to her ear. “You look insanely sexy, Natalie.” I take in a whiff of her perfume and sigh. “And you fucking smell like heaven.” I move my lips across her jaw, to her mouth where I angle her mouth upward and press a light kiss.
She sighs against my mouth and grips the lapels of my jacket when I pull away. Looking up at me, a light sparkle in her eyes, she says, “I should not be able to see your muscles in a suit. It’s not fair.”
I chuckle and reply, “I would not be surprised if the back of this jacket rips its seams from how tight it is. I’ve been lifting more than I thought.”
“Oh, the big man has muscles, huh?” she asks in a teasing tone, squeezing my biceps.
“You know I do.” I take her hand in mine and say, “Ready to go?”
“Ready.” She shuts her door and locks up and we both head to the elevator.
Once we’re out on the street, I help her into my Jaguar F-TYPE that’s with an attendant and hand the guy a tip.
When I hop into the driver’s side, she stares at me in shock and says, “We took public transportation yesterday, why not this?” She rubs her hand over the dashboard and then looks at me, lust in her eyes. “It’s really sexy.”
Chuckling, I roar the engine to life and say, “I’ll remember that for next time.” Before pulling out on the street, I press my hand to her thigh and keep it there, wanting to make contact with her. I might not be around all the time, but when I’m with her, I will always show her how much I want her near me.
“Where are we headed?” she asks, moving her hand over mine. It’s a simple move, one I’ve seen Milly do with Carson, but it sends a thrill up my arm. This is what I didn’t know I wanted. This easy contact, having someone you can be intimate with, not just sex.
Switching lanes, I look over my shoulder and then say, “Neptune’s.”
“Seriously?” she asks. “You got a reservation like that? No problem? Did you have someone call for you?”
“Hell no. I take care of my girl myself. I called, told them my name and they hung up on me, not believing a word of it. So I went there in person and asked for a reservation. I think they felt really bad about hanging up, and they reserved a table for us.”
“They felt bad? They probably ate their own feet.” She laughs. “You know, when I said fancy, I didn’t mean go to the most sought-after place in Illinois.”
“Go big or go home.”
“Setting the bar high, Potter.”
Squeezing her thigh, I say, “When it goes downhill from here, just remember, I went to the restaurant in person to make reservations. That’s commitment.”
“It earned you quite a few points, that’s for sure.” And then speaking behind her hand she whispers, “Not that you needed them in the first place.”
* * *
“Okay, you win at life,” Natalie says, leaning back in her chair and chewing on a piece of my steak. “Ugh, I’m so mad I didn’t get that now.”
I stare at her half-eaten pasta dish and say, “Want to trade?”
Her eyes flash up to mine, her thick eyelashes making the blue stand out even more brilliantly. “You would be willing to risk carbs for me?”
“If it would make you happy, sure.”
“Oh, Co
ry Potter.” She shakes her head. “You have this dating thing down. But that’s okay, you enjoy your steak.”
I stare at her for a few seconds and then cut the rest of my steak in half. I cut it up and then reach for her plate. I dump half her pasta on my plate, the cut-up steak onto her plate, and hand it back to her. “There, now we can both enjoy everything together.”
Her lips twist together as she attempts to hold back her smile. She doesn’t lift her fork to start eating, instead, she stares at me, taking me in, a look of disbelief on her face.
“What?” I ask, after I swallow. “What’s that look for?”
“You just shared your steak with me. Your yummy, melt-in-your-mouth, orgasmic steak.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “You liked the steak, I like you, therefore . . . it’s yours.” I give her a wink and dip my fork into her creamy pasta. Yeah, this is so not on the eating plan but hey, that’s what extra workouts are for, right?
“You’re unbelievable, Cory.”
“I hope in a good way.”
“The best way.” She sits up and stabs a piece of meat with her fork. Right before putting it in her mouth, she says, “What kind of dating life did you have back in Baltimore? I know you didn’t have any relationships, but did you ever take anyone out?”
I shake my head. “Not really. Didn’t want to lead anyone on, you know?”
“And you weren’t celibate?” I lift one single eyebrow at her, causing her to laugh and cover her mouth. “Okay, we both know you weren’t. But how did that work? Did they sign an NDA?”
“Is this stuff you really want to know?”
“I mean . . . sort of. It’s interesting to me.”
I bring my napkin up to my mouth, dab, finish chewing and then rest my hand on the table, twirling my wineglass by the stem. Communication and honesty. That’s what this girl wants, so that’s what I’ll give her. “I had an NDA, yeah. Asking the girl to sign it was always weird and uncomfortable, but it was necessary.”
The Trade Page 24