Barefoot Bay_Hot Summer Kisses

by Pam Mantovani

  “Ball players come, they go.” Charity handed him the coins of his change. Without breaking stride, he dropped them in the box collecting donations for a local food bank.

  “I’m sure your girl will find another once you’re gone.”

  Quinn stared at the woman, dumbfounded. He seriously hadn’t given much thought to anything beyond getting back to pitching in the majors.

  How had it escaped his thinking that Anna would find someone else after he left? Granted, they’d both known from the beginning that they only had a short time together. He realized now that when he thought of the future, in spite of knowing how Anna felt about not moving, he’d never imagined her not being a part of his life.

  He touched a hand to the outer pocket of his jacket, felt the outline of the box he’d bought for tonight.

  “I just want her to be happy,” he said as he walked out of the store.

  He kept his mind deliberately blank as he made one quick stop at Bud’s Buds before he arrived at Anna’s apartment. There was no point in thinking, no reason to believe, anything could be different. While a pitching plan could be adjusted during the course of the game, he couldn’t think of any way that he and Anna could both have what they wanted.

  Then, when she opened her apartment door, he lost all thought altogether.

  She wore a red dress that left plenty of curve for his imagination to go wild over. His body went rigid with need, and when she smiled, he’d swear his heart dropped to his toes.

  “Well, don’t you look handsome.” She reached out, and tugged his tie to pull him inside. With a casual push to close the door behind them, she kissed him with lips as red as her dress. “Hmmm,” she said with a long sigh. “You don’t taste bad either.” She kissed him once more before she stepped back.

  “You look incredible.”

  “I’ve had a very good day. Mom and I spent the day getting all polished up at Eucalyptus. Then.” She stepped back another step and twirled around on the toe of one red heel. “We went shopping.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” His blood was rushing, heating, as he took an appreciative scan up and down of her body. “By any chance did you come home with some fancy new lingerie?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  She laughed, a low husky sound of sensual confidence he’d never heard from her before. She stepped closer and slid her hands up his chest as she leaned forward. When she ran her tongue around the rim of his ear he feared he’d explode.

  “Actually,” she whispered. “I couldn’t find a thing I liked. Or anything I thought you might like.” Her teeth tugged slightly on his lobe and Quinn swore his eyes crossed. “So, I’m afraid there’s nothing at all under this dress.” She pulled back enough so they could lock gazes. “Nothing at all.”

  “Anna.” Her name sounded like a plea and he just didn’t give a damn. He pulled the hand from behind his back around so he could reach for her, only to stop when the bundle in his hand crackled. The bundle he’d completely forgot he held.

  “Oh.”

  Her eyes grew bright, and he really hoped those weren’t tears he saw sparkling there, as she looked from the bouquet in his hand up to his face.

  “Oh, Quinn, they’re lovely.”

  It was a simple, inexpensive mixed bunch he’d impulsively picked up at Bud’s Buds, but she looked at them as if they were an extravagant array of exotic flowers. He hoped she liked the other surprises he planned for tonight every bit as much.

  She wrapped her hands around his where he clutched the cellophane wrapped flowers and leaned forward to kiss him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Who said they were for you?”

  She laughed, and slipped them free of his hold. “I do. And you can’t have them back. I need to put them in some water.”

  When she moved to the kitchen space, he slipped his phone out his pocket and sent a quick text to Rachel so she’d know when the apartment would be empty. He’d just completed the text exchange when Anna appeared by his side.

  “Ready?” With her hand tucked warmly in his, and anticipation drumming in his chest, he led them out the door and to his car. He was more than ready for everything he had planned for tonight.

  Chapter 7

  Quinn braked to a stop in front of the three story stucco structure. From her window, Anna admired the way The Casa Blanca Resort & Spa shone like a white jewel in the lights. Sitting directly on the bay, with a large pool and eating deck that faced the water, it exemplified the elegance and charm for which is was renowned. A valet appeared and opened her door, offering his hand for her exit.

  “Good evening. Welcome to Casa Blanca.” Once he had Anna safely out of the car, he glanced at Quinn, who’d come around the hood to slip an arm around Anna’s waist and subtly offer a tip to the valet. “Thank you, Mr. Lancaster. Everything is as you requested.”

  “Thank you, Tim,” Quinn answered.

  “Why?” Anna asked as they turned to face the lobby. “Do I have the feeling he means more than dinner reservations?”

  By now she should be used to the way he could surprise her. It’s just that every time he did, it was in some new way.

  Quinn smiled. “Just a perk of being a baseball player.”

  “A famous one,” she corrected.

  “I prefer being thought of as a good one.”

  He guided her through the front doors, across the marble floor, and toward the restaurant. They were greeted and immediately led to a table overlooking the bay. Proving Quinn had taken care of a few details ahead of time, a waiter promptly arrived with a silver bucket and proceeded to open a bottle of champagne. Dazzled, she watched as the waiter poured two glasses. After he left them, Quinn raised his glass.

  “Thank you for being with me.”

  His gaze searing into hers, Anna struggled with an emotion she feared as much as cherished. This man, and this unexpected love she felt for him, were becoming more and more essential to her as every day passed. “The pleasure is mine.” She made herself relax and send him a flirty smile that belied the sudden nerves curling in her stomach as she touched her glass to his. “Until later when I hope we’ll both be pleased.”

  “I have no doubt about it.” He leaned forward. Candlelight added a touch of gold to his brown hair and eyes. Anna’s breath lodged in her throat as her heart began to pound with an unfamiliar anticipation. “Anna.” Whatever he’d been about to say drifted away as the waiter arrived with two appetizer dishes.

  “Compliments of Mr. Becker.”

  She waited until the waiter left before she leaned toward Quinn. “Who’s Mr. Becker and why did he send this over for us?”

  “He’s one of the owners of the Bucks,” Quinn said, scooping a seared scallop with mushrooms onto the small plate in front of her as she took a sip of the champagne. “I asked him for a little help in making a reservation here and I guess he decided to start our night off right.”

  “My night started off right with you bringing me flowers.”

  “I hope you like this as much.”

  Anna paused with the glass in her hand, her heart frozen between dread and longing as he tucked a hand into his jacket pocket. When he drew out a box that was obviously not a ring box, she let out a slow breath and set the glass on the table. She honestly didn’t know how she’d have reacted had he offered a ring.

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” he said, surprising her because he appeared almost embarrassed.

  She lifted the box lid to reveal a thin silver bracelet with a delicate baseball charm.

  “I know you don’t wear any jewelry so if you don’t like it---”

  “Will you put it on for me?”

  With his attention focused on lifting the bracelet from the box and securing the clasp, Anna had a moment to settle her emotions. A part of her truly loved the bracelet, and knew it would forever remind her of Quinn whenever she wore it.

  How was she going to say good-bye, how was she going to go on wit
h her life after he left, when she had a tangible reminder of him?

  The chain and charm were delicate, but they felt like an iron band around her wrist. And yet it was one she gladly accepted. She smiled at Quinn. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

  He skimmed a fingertip over her pulse. He said nothing. Instead he stared at her with an intensity that made her nervous about what he might be thinking. She lifted her glass. “I thought you never drank during the season?”

  “I decided the night called for a single glass.” Yet she noticed he only wrapped his long fingers around the crystal stem.

  “Oh?” Feeling reckless she drained her glass. “What else does the night call for?” His grin came quick and made her head spin more than a dozen glasses of champagne would.

  “Mr. Lancaster?”

  Anna and Quinn looked over to find a young boy, around ten she guessed. He clutched a baseball glove to his chest.

  “Hello. What’s your name?” Quinn asked, conveying no irritation with the interruption.

  “I’m Justin.” The glove shook slightly as he offered it to Quinn. “Would you sign my glove? When my dad saw it was you sitting here, he went upstairs to our room and got my glove.”

  “Be happy to, Justin.” Quinn accepted the glove. “You play?”

  “First base. I want to pitch, but my dad says I have plenty of time to do that.”

  “Your dad’s right, perfecting movement and location is more important than how fast you throw. Do you have a pen? A marker is best.” He offered the boy a smile. “It won’t rub off as easily.”

  “I’ll ask my Mom.” He dashed off to a table three tables over, where a couple watched.

  “It’s nice of you to take the time for him.” Anna reached across the table and stroked a light hand over his. “Do you ever resent the intrusion?”

  “It’s part of the job.”

  “Not every ballplayer feels the same I imagine.”

  Quinn shrugged, drained half his glass of water.

  Justin came running back, a blue marker in his hand. “My dad went to the front desk and they had one you can use.”

  Anna watched as Quinn chatted with the boy while signing his name on the leather glove. One of the things she loved about him was how he focused attention on whoever he talked with. Goodness knows she’d certainly been on the pleasurable receiving end of his concentration.

  “Thanks Mr. Lancaster,” Justin said.

  Once they were again alone, they were able to focus attention on each other. For Anna it was as if no one else existed beyond the small circle of their table. Platters of delicious food magically appeared and then were whisked away. Someone kept her glass filled and the champagne slid like liquid gold down her throat. The only whispered conversation she heard was the one she exchanged with Quinn. Candlelight enfolded them while giving off enough light to see expressions or guide subtle touches.

  To see what her heart could never forget.

  “Looks like we’ve closed down the place,” Quinn said. Anna glanced around the room, saw that they were indeed the last customers. He reached for her hand, brushed his lips over her knuckles. “Shall we go?”

  Somehow, when he guided them toward the elevator, Anna wasn’t surprised.

  He held her tight against his side as they waited for the door to open, kept her close as they stepped inside. He kissed her throughout the short ride to the third floor. As they walked into the suite, tears burned her throat and eyes.

  He’d obviously arranged to have candles burning, more champagne along with chocolate covered strawberries waiting on a side table, and soft music playing. She crossed the room and lifted a hand to stroke a fingertip over the tight bud of a red rose. The silver of her new bracelet caught and shot back the candlelight.

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “You deserve to be spoiled.”

  He drew her back into his arms, where she felt cherished and protected. Where she wanted so badly to stay forever. Afraid, suddenly very afraid, she pressed a fingertip against his lips to prevent any words that could break her heart into a million pieces.

  “Show me,” she whispered.

  He’d already touched her in so many ways. Tonight he touched softer, and each caress lit a fire inside of her. He’d already tasted every inch of her. Tonight his mouth and tongue swept over her as if indulging in a slow feast, making her greedy for the flavor that was uniquely his. She offered, and took, all that she could, storing each memory like a precious jewel.

  Long into the night they whispered and laughed. Anna drank more champagne. Quinn used the tip of several chocolate covered strawberries in very creative ways. They indulged the luxury of the Jacuzzi tub. And each other.

  There were no boundaries between them. Except for the words that could tear them apart.

  Anna woke slowly, her mind and body wanting to keep close the pleasure from last night. With that in mind, she reached out a hand, but all she found was cool linen sheets.

  Disappointed but not alarmed, she blinked open her eyes. She’d gotten to know Quinn well enough to guess that he’d gone for a morning run. She should be grateful for the time and opportunity to shore up her emotions, to protect her fragile heart.

  It wasn’t champagne that curdled in her stomach. It was the knowledge that she loved Quinn more deeply than she’d ever imagined loving anyone. And he would soon leave.

  She sat up in bed, holding the sheet against her breasts. He’d given her such a glorious night, one filled with romance and memories. One she would never forget.

  Would he? She hated the question, hated even more the jealousy that rose within her at the thought that someday in the future he would give another woman a special night.

  She felt the first tear drop onto the back of her hand just as she heard the door to the suite open. Hurriedly brushing her cheeks, she frowned when she heard the door slam shut.

  “What the hell do you mean there’s nothing you can do? What the hell am I paying you for if not to handle something like this?”

  Startled by the violence in his voice, Anna scrambled for a robe and walked to the doorway. She saw Quinn, sweat from his run still glistening on his bare chest, hold out an arm and click on the television remote. His face looked flushed, but she got the impression it was from anger rather than exercise. Cautious, she waited for him to notice her. Only his attention remained centered on the television as he moved from one channel to another.

  Suddenly the images on the screen stopped.

  She heard him swear as he clicked off his phone and toss it onto the sofa. The remote dropped onto the carpet. Anna looked to the television.

  According to the lettering at the bottom of the screen, the man talking was Richard Clark. Quinn’s stepfather.

  Anna carefully crossed the room, reached for the remote and upped the volume. Quinn never moved.

  “What I’m saying is this,” Richard said. “Quinn has always been the kind of player that needed direction and discipline. He was never injured when I was his coach.” Quinn swore.

  “I’m just wondering” Richard went on, “if that’s why his recovery is taking so long. Maybe if he’d spend as much time rehabbing and getting back into shape as he does making time with some woman, he would already be back pitching in the major leagues.”

  The screen changed from the two men to a photograph. Anna sucked in a quick breath. Although taken from a distance, the photo clearly showed her and Quinn as they sat at the candlelit table last night, as he’d lifted her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

  Feeling sick to her stomach, Anna lowered to the sofa. The screen changed to three people sitting behind a desk. She heard the buzz of conversation, but could only imagine what they were saying. She didn’t have to imagine where Quinn was concerned as his voice carried throughout the room.

  “Richard,” Quinn said into his cell phone. “What the hell are you doing? I don’t care if you get your ten seconds in the media, but you had no right to pull Anna into t
his.” She watched as Quinn’s features tightened and the fingers holding the phone turned white. “That’s bullshit and you know it. The decision wasn’t mine, if it had been I’d already be pitching. There is nothing wrong with my arm. The team wanted to wait until I could pitch a home game that had meaning in the rankings so they could take advantage of the publicity.”

  It was another blow. To hear that he would be pitching soon, and to know that once he did, it would only be a handful of days before he left for good. She flinched when Quinn sat beside her.

  “Anna.” He reached for her hand, his warmth making her notice just how chilled she felt. Against her leg where his cell phone had slipped, she felt the vibration of a text message. “Talk to me.”

  How could she explain that this was a thousand times worse than whenever they’d moved and she’d been pointed at and whispered about because she was the new kid in class? Even knowing other kids often encountered the same pressure had never helped ease her discomfort.

  How could she explain that a precious memory with him had now been tainted through no fault of his own?

  “How do you do this? How do you live having your every move scrutinized and put on display?”

  “By keeping as much of my life as private as I can.” He rubbed her hand in his, ignoring the ring of his phone. “I’ll fix this, Anna.”

  “How?” She glanced back at the television. As she expected, the group had moved onto another topic. They didn’t care that her world had changed, shattered. They’d had their headline, their breaking sports news. Time to move on.

  Her mother, she needed to contact her mother. And Rachel. Anna’s stomach rolled over. “Everyone I know will see this, will know we’ve been together.”

  She felt him stiffen. “That bothers you?”

  “I hate it.” Her fingers curled tight to hold him still, to keep herself from admitting it hurt because it would mean she’d be left behind to deal with all the questions and speculation. “Quinn, it’s not that I regret being with you.” She leaned forward, kissed him. “I hate it because I see how your stepfather has hurt you.”