Jake Lawrence, Third Base (Bottom of the Ninth #3)

by Jean Joachim

  He handed her the key, and she unlocked the door. “Pick your bed,” he said, setting down the luggage.

  She jumped on the one nearest the bathroom and bounced, giggling like a little kid. The few times she dropped the wariness and fear, her sense of fun shone through. She intrigued him. How did she get to where she was and who, exactly, was she? Did she gamble like her mom? His head buzzed with a zillion questions.

  “I sleep in boxers. I hope that won’t offend you,” he said, pulling a toilet kit out of his bag.

  “Nope. Just like a bathing suit, right?”

  “Right.”

  She bit her lip as she rummaged through her stuff. “Hmm. I only have something that’s not appropriate to sleep in.”

  “Really?” He looked over at her.

  “Yeah.” She blushed. “I usually sleep nude.”

  A thump in his dick set his whole body on high alert. His mouth went dry, and he lost the ability to speak for a moment or two. An idea popped into his head.

  “I’ve got a jersey. Would that do?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’d be great. Thank you.”

  He opened the case and pulled out his number twenty-two pinstriped top and tossed it on her bed. She held it up.

  “A little big, but it’ll do just fine.” With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

  Jake let out a breath and sank down on the bed. How the hell was he going to hold it together if she kept saying things like that? He took off his shirt and pants, folded them and put them on a chair. Sweat gathered on his forehead. He needed a shower but would have to wait until morning. Nothing would keep him awake tonight and since he was sleeping alone, he didn’t have to worry about being stinky up close. Too bad.

  * * * *

  Doubt crept into Kate’s mind as she undressed in the bathroom. She’d never met a man like Jake Lawrence. Didn’t think there was a man on Earth who wouldn’t take advantage of her in this situation—or try to. Nope, she wasn’t going to have sex to put a roof over her head. No way.

  She unbuttoned the jersey, then held it to her nose. It smelled fresh and clean, with a hint of Jake in it. The amazing new car smell had mixed with the rich leather and Jake’s scent. Now some of that was on the shirt he’d lent her. She put it on, looked in the mirror, and laughed. If ever there was something that wasn’t sexy, this was it.

  The huge jersey fell along her slim frame like a giant bag. Everything was covered up, as it fell to her knees. Like sleeping in a dress. She took a deep breath. This was the perfect outfit. Hell, what man would want to sleep with a woman who was drowning in a baseball jersey?

  Confident she’d cool down whatever desire Jake might have for her, she opened the door and waltzed into the bedroom.

  “A perfect fit,” she started until she laid eyes on his almost naked body. Her breath hitched as her gaze drew down his wide, muscular shoulders and chest. Some blond hair curled on his pecs, inviting her to touch him. She swallowed some saliva and sensed heat in her neck.

  As her gaze dropped down to his tight abs and narrow hips, desire flared in her loins. Mentally kicking herself, she shouldn’t have been surprised. The guy filled out a T-shirt and a pair of jeans like she hadn’t seen before. She should have expected, once he took his clothes off, that he’d be just as gorgeous underneath.

  “I see,” he said in a raspy voice.

  Color seeped into his chest, like a sex flush, and she got the message. Her nipples hardened under his scrutiny. Looking away before she betrayed her own feelings any further, she pulled down the covers and slid into bed. He did the same. Facing him, she glimpsed the quick flash of fire in his eyes, before it died. Being in a motel room with Jake Lawrence and keeping her distance proved to be a daunting challenge.

  She fluffed up her pillow, raised the bedclothes to cover her chest, hiding her reaction to him. She turned on her side and curled up, facing his bed. Jake extinguished the light.

  “Good night,” he said.

  “Night,” she responded.

  The air hung heavy with unspoken need. They were quiet for a few moments.

  “Does your mom do that to you often?”

  “Do what?”

  “Gamble away your money?”

  Humiliation clutched her heart, robbing her of words.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer.”

  “She’s been doing that all my life.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

  “My mom’s been addicted to gambling ever since I can remember. My dad couldn’t take it and left when I was ten. He paid our rent until I was eighteen.”

  “I’m so sorry. Hey, you don’t have to talk about it. Forget I asked.”

  “Sometimes it feels better to talk about it, instead of keeping it secret.” She blew out a breath.

  “Not like it’s your fault or anything,” he said.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Has she tried to stop? Or get help?”

  “Sure. Plenty of times. Her life with my dad was one of broken promises, gambling in secret, and missing money,” she confessed.

  “That must have been hard on you,” he replied.

  “I became self-sufficient at an early age.”

  “I’d guess you’d have to.”

  “Right. I worked after school, dog walking, babysitting, whatever I could get. Started when I was ten and daddy left. I kept my money hidden.”

  He was quiet. Emotion built inside her as old memories flooded back. Her voice quavered.

  “But she always found it. She was like a bloodhound. I thought I was so clever, finding places she’d never look. But it never worked. She’d find it and it would be gone.”

  He was quiet. Tears slipped from her eyes. An urge to crawl into his bed and cuddle up with him seized her heart. She figured she’d find comfort in those strong arms of his. She might be able to lose herself in his embrace, but she’d be giving him the green light to make love, and she wasn’t ready for that. Though the idea tempted her.

  She wiped the wetness off her cheeks with her palm, then bunched up the extra pillow, hugging it to her chest, the way she had when she was little. She curled her legs up around the squishy thing and rested her cheek on it. A position she’d used to fall asleep after her father had moved on.

  When she closed her eyes, she could pretend the pillow was Jake’s chest. The image soothed her. She sighed, recalling his pleasing scent and his sweetness.

  * * * *

  Jake didn’t know what to say. The urge to go to her, take her in his arms, and hug her to death almost overwhelmed him. He’d swung one leg over the side of the bed before he caught himself. His going over there would simply scare the shit out of her.

  Her story touched his heart. So beautiful and talented, yet so alone all her life—one parent gone, the other an adversary. Words escaped him, though he wanted to say something, anything to soothe her.

  “Did you get to spend any of it on yourself before she found it?”

  He heard her sigh.

  “I did. Wasn’t long before I got wise. If I spent it on myself, then she couldn’t gamble it away. So I’d buy a burger or a new skirt with it. I knew she was mad that she couldn’t count on that money, but I didn’t care.”

  “Do you support her now?”

  “Yeah, sort of. But I’m still paying off college loans. She gets social security now. That pays her rent and food, if she’s careful.”

  “So you send her money?”

  “I buy gift certificates for the grocery store for her. She’s tried to turn them in for cash, but they got wise and don’t do it. I need to know she’s eating. Ya know?”

  “I get it.”

  “She’s not a bad person. Never hit me or anything. She’s just got this problem and it’s taken over her life.”

  There was silence.

  “You’re ve
ry brave,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  Lying on his back, Jake laced his fingers behind his head. The minute he’d seen her wearing his jersey, he’d wanted to jump her bones. Blood had pumped to his dick, forcing him to turn his back to her. The huge garment made her look small, delicate, and vulnerable. He’d wanted to grab her, hold her, kiss her, and make love to her.

  His reaction surprised him. The bulky uniform hid her charms, but it gave her a waifish quality he found irresistible. Chatting with her in the dark, he realized she was no poor, defenseless woman, but a strong one, who had already weathered a whole lot of shit storms.

  His new knowledge about her fanned the flames of his desire. Underneath that frightened demeanor lay the heart of a tiger. He bet she was amazing in bed and ached to find out. Hands off, buster. He knew he couldn’t be putting any moves on her. She was trapped, like a cornered mongoose, and she’d fight like hell to survive.

  He wondered if he’d ever see her again after he dropped her off in New York. Maybe that would be the right time to ask her out. He decided it would and resolved to form a plan, a special date, and spring it on her just before they parted.

  A question interrupted his thoughts.

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “Pretty normal. My parents are still married, still living together.”

  “Nice.”

  “Baseball became my life when I was about ten. Dad devoted much of his time away from work teaching me. Training me.”

  “What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s an engineer. Packaging engineer. He tried to explain what he does once, but I never really got it. Mom’s a music teacher.”

  “Yeah, so you said. Any siblings?”

  “One younger sister. You?”

  “No.”

  “She was kind of a pain when she was little. But when I went off to college, she’d bake cookies and send ’em to me. We became friends.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Married. No kids yet. Living near my parents in California.”

  “You don’t get to see them much, do you?”

  “No. But it’s okay. I’ve got my teammates. We hang together. My family flies in for one game every season. Especially if we’re in the playoffs.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “I guess it was boring. I’m probably boring, too.”

  “I would have loved to have lived a boring life.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Yeah. I was a lucky kid,” he said.

  “You were. You should appreciate that.”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” she replied.

  “I’d better get some sleep. Long drive tomorrow.”

  “Where’re we going next?”

  “Oklahoma.”

  “I’ll look for stuff to see there tomorrow,” she said.

  “Great.”

  “Good night, Jake. Thanks for being such a great friend.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night.”

  The one word no man ever wants to hear from a beautiful woman is “friend”. He didn’t want to be her friend. He wanted to be her lover. Guess he’d have to settle for friend. Did that mean she wasn’t afraid of him anymore? Maybe, maybe not—he still needed to watch his step.

  At second thought, coming from Kate, “friend” was a compliment. He guessed she didn’t have many male friends, except maybe gay ones. What man could keep his hands off her? His chested puffed up a bit, as he realized it was an honor to be considered her buddy. Was it possible to turn a friend into a lover? He’d have to figure out how tomorrow.

  He rolled over and sleep claimed him.

  Chapter Three

  Jake slept like a dead man. When a small stream of sunlight snuck between the curtains, he opened his eyes. A glance at the clock showed it was seven and he didn’t need to get up yet. A subtle swish of movement captured his gaze.

  Kate was up and dancing or stretching or something. She stood facing away from him. She’d shed his jersey in favor of leggings and a sports bra. One hand rested on the back of a chair. The other stretched gracefully out to the side. She’d lifted her right leg and stretched it high up.

  Even in the dim light, he made out the outline of her leg muscles. She repeated her action on the right, then switched to the other side. Her legs were beautiful, strong, slim, and well formed. He longed to touch her but lay completely still so as not to interrupt.

  Her lifts were rhythmic, as if she moved to music, though there was no music playing. Had she been singing softly, humming, or even imagining the music? She’d talked about being a singer, then demonstrated her silvery pipes, but dancing? Of course, she couldn’t dance in the car. He guessed actors had to dance to be on Broadway.

  Her graceful movements captivated him. He watched until she put her leg down and turned around. He prayed he’d closed his eyes before she saw him staring at her. Embarrassment flooded his body. To be caught watching her would be the next best thing to being a stalker.

  He’d never met a girl like her. While her talents and beauty fascinated him, her sad history tugged at his heart. The combination was lethal. Had he finally met the girl he couldn’t date casually and leave when the mood struck him? Her voice broke the silence.

  “You can stop faking. I know you’re awake.”

  Caught! He cracked one eye open. “Who me?”

  She laughed. “Good try. I could feel you watching me.”

  “Okay, okay. Guilty as charged.” He threw down the covers. “I’m going to get a shower. Do you need the bathroom?”

  “You go ahead.”

  He turned on the water and while he waited for it to heat up, he looked at the little bottles by the sink. These were her secret potions to help her look so amazing. Bah, she didn’t need a thing. Obviously, she was born that way. Dropping his boxers, he stepped under the hot spray and wished she’d join him. But wishing wouldn’t make it so. He picked up a washcloth and gave voice to his favorite shower song, Take Me Out to the Ballgame.

  After his shower, he dressed in the bathroom, then turned it over to her.

  “And they say women take forever to get dressed,” she harrumphed.

  “Sorry. I’m not used to sharing a room with a woman I don’t share the shower with.”

  He laughed at her blush as she scurried into the bathroom and slammed the door. He repacked his few belongings and stood at the window, watching the sun grow in the sky.

  When she ambled into the room, she wore a pair of navy blue leggings and a long, thin white sweater. She toweled her hair as she joined him at the window.

  “Why don’t you keep the jersey, for now?” he said, watching her blue-black hair, tousled and damp, falling lower than her shoulders. The urge to run his fingers through it forced him to clamp his hands together.

  “You sure?”

  “You’ll need it every night, right?”

  “Guess so.”

  “As long as I get it back when we get to New York.”

  “Of course. Thanks.”

  At the front desk, they got the recommendation of a diner a mile down the road for breakfast.

  Once they’d placed their orders, Kate reached across the table.

  “Gimme.”

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  “Your phone. You want me to look up someplace to go in Oklahoma, don’t you?”

  “Oh. Yeah! Oh, yeah. Right. Here.” He handed it to her.

  She punched in letters while he drank coffee.

  “What kind of things do you like?”

  “I don’t know. Surprise me.”

  There was silence as she worked the cell. Their food arrived.

  “Got it,” she said.

  “What?” He took a forkful of eggs.

  “Animals.”

  “Animals?”

  “Yep. Woolaroc Museum and Wildlife Preserve. In Bartlesville.”

  “Where the hell is that?”r />
  “North of Tulsa. Where are we now?” she asked.

  “Outside of Amarillo. About fifty or sixty miles.”

  “Okay. So it’s about, hmm, three hundred twenty-five miles.”

  “Not for today, then.”

  “Maybe early tomorrow?”

  “Perfect,” he agreed.

  She smiled and handed him back his phone.

  They finished eating and got back in the car.

  “Today, I expect you to sing along with me. You’ve heard the song enough to know the lyrics.”

  “I’ll give it a try.”

  “I’ll correct you when you need it.”

  “I’m sure you will.” He grinned.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She shot him a pointed stare.

  “Just that you’re sure not shy about speaking up.”

  “If I waited for others to speak up for me, I’d still be waitin’.”

  “I get it. Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. My life was my life. I’ve survived. I’m doing pretty well. Got my degree, going for a great job. I think things are gonna get better for me. Hell, they can’t get much worse!” She gave a short laugh.

  They sure are going to get better for you if I have anything to say about it. He patted her hand. “You have a great attitude. I’m sure you’ll be a big success. I hope you’ll give me an autograph when you’re rich and famous, so I can say I knew you.”

  “You’re funny,” she said, laughing. “Let’s go. Time’s a wasting.”

  She started it and cued him when to come in. He tried a few times and messed up. But they kept at it and, finally, he got it. Her patience impressed him. He relaxed and stopped feeling silly as his voice rose in song with hers.

  They sang their way across the Texas Panhandle and into Oklahoma. At six, Kate spotted a well-known Italian food chain restaurant and they stopped to eat. There was a motel with a flashing vacancy sign a mile from the restaurant. They lucked out getting a room with two double beds.

  Jake turned on the television to check on the hockey game while Kate did vocal exercises and leg stretches. He tried to keep his focus on the game, but her lithe body drew his eye time after time. After the Rangers were ahead by five goals, he was about to switch it off, when his cell rang. He muted the tube and answered. It was Skip Quincy, Nighthawks’ shortstop.