Covering All the Bases (For the Love of the Game)

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Covering All the Bases (For the Love of the Game) Page 3

by Jody Holford


  “Hey. Will this work okay for the night?” he asked.

  Isla nodded, unable to speak. She couldn’t help but stare. He was really good-looking. Movie star hot, but real. So sweet it made her insides feel like mush, and that initial burst of attraction had nearly knocked her off her stool. But he had an edge, too. She’d seen it with the blonde. Talia took the drinks from her brother and went to the fridge.

  “I feel like I’m taking advantage. I’m happy to pay whatever I would have at a hotel,” Isla said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Liam said.

  Isla grinned. He was a big guy, tall and imposing. The word “silly” didn’t suit him. “I try hard not to be.”

  He laughed, and Talia came back to his side. “If you need anything, we’re open until two. Kitchen closes in an hour, so if you’re hungry, I can send something up.”

  Their repeated gestures of compassion were going to be her undoing. “I’m fine. Thank you again,” Isla said.

  Talia looked up at her brother. He was several inches taller than his sister. “I’ll see you downstairs?”

  Liam shrugged, and Isla’s pulse picked up speed. She wasn’t scared to be alone with him. She’d like to think that she had some sort of radar for danger. These two didn’t ring the bell on the ax-murderer scale. Isla should know. The number of irate customers and clients she dealt with at the chain of fitness centers she helped manage for her father was great training ground for honing instincts.

  Liam’s gaze locked on Isla’s sending her heart into an uneven rhythm. Not from fear. No. It was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe ever. There was lust, and then there was the blaze of heat his simple touch had ignited in the bar.

  “Okay. Good night.” Talia waved and shut the door behind her, leaving Liam and Isla standing by the couch staring at each other.

  The air thickened, and the fatigue Isla felt was replaced with a sharp awareness of how impressive Liam Cruz was—and not just physically. In the bar lighting, he’d been gorgeous. In the soft glow of normal lights, he was more than that. He was handsome. His eyes were kind and searching, and they pulled Isla in, making her wish he wasn’t a virtual stranger, that he was someone she could lean on.

  For what? A night or two? Why not? What would it hurt?

  “I’ll let you get some sleep. I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, putting his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans.

  “I’m glad I came into your bar tonight,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

  “Me too. You going to be all right here?”

  She stared at him, knowing she should say yes, she’d be fine. Her father was a big fan of Isla standing on her own two feet, even when he was trying to knock them out from under her.

  He hadn’t received any handouts or favors on his way up the corporate ladder, so Isla and her brother were expected to pay their dues. And then some. Not that she minded working hard for what she wanted in life, but it would have been nice for her father to offer a kind word of encouragement now and again. Or maybe for her mother to fill in the gaps her father frequently left.

  “I’ll be fine,” she lied. She didn’t want to be alone, and she hated the feeling—the neediness. He’d done more than enough for a stranger, and he clearly had his pick of women downstairs. Whom he turned down.

  Stepping closer, he removed his hands from his pockets. Whether it was cologne or body soap or him, she inhaled the sexy scent deeply, her eyes drifting shut. You’re just tired. Right. Tired. Not turned on. Not needy. Not curious about what it’d be like to take exactly what she wanted in this moment. Him, wrapped around her, holding her close.

  His fingers brushed her jaw, and she opened her eyes to stare into his.

  “I could stay,” he said.

  Isla swallowed the thick lump in her throat. She practically craved the feel of him, but she wasn’t a one-night stand sort of girl. There was nothing wrong with one-night stands, but they weren’t for her. And Liam Cruz didn’t look like he spent a lot of evenings with women just holding hands.

  Temptation swamped her—not just physical but emotional. The day was catching up with her, though, and she should tell him to go. She tried to get the words to leave her mouth. He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder, inched closer still and pulled her into his chest. His hand came up her back and, with exquisite gentleness, he nudged her head to rest against him.

  Isla’s breath shuddered in and out, and her muscles relaxed. She closed her eyes, leaning in to him. Leaning on him. His other arm came around her waist and, even though she felt the attraction boiling between them, he wasn’t hitting on her. He was comforting her, and the realization pushed the tears she’d held back to the surface.

  As the first ones slipped over, Liam brushed his hand over her hair, rubbed up and down her back as he soothed her with quiet murmurs and soft touches. Isla wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that before Liam leaned back and looked down at her with a surprising amount of affection, given that they’d just met.

  Unable to look away, her breath went shallow. Her eyes darted to his lips, his went to hers, and the energy charged between them with the subtlety of a runaway train. Liam’s hand stroked up, cupped her cheek.

  And Isla’s phone rang loudly, startling her into jumping back from his embrace.

  Liam swore, then laughed.

  Her heart caught in her throat as she backed away, nearly tripping over her bag. She dug in her purse for her phone and saw her father’s name on the screen. She swiped her thumb across, turning her back on Liam.

  “Dad. I’ve been texting you for hours,” she said into the phone.

  “Where are you? Tell me you didn’t jump on a plane for absolutely no reason,” he said, his voice harsh and loud.

  “It wasn’t for no reason. Your father died. He asked for us before he passed away; it seemed like the least I could do.”

  She wanted to say more, to ask how he could have kept a grandfather from her and Ian all these years. She had vague memories of hearing her parents argue about her dad’s dad. Isla had assumed, for good reason, that he’d died long ago.

  His family was an off-limits topic, one of many in the Bennett household. Tugging at any of those tightly tied strings, even with a child’s curiosity, would have strained her already difficult relationship with her father.

  “Flying across the country for a man you didn’t know, a man who cut me out of his life, is not only stupid, it’s disloyal. Don’t you think if I’d wanted you to know him, know of him, you would have?” His censure hurt even from miles away.

  Isla’s shoulders hunched without permission. Did he not have any feeling in his heart? Even if they were estranged, wouldn’t this make him feel something? Even in the moments she’d like to strangle him, Isla was sure she’d feel sadness if something happened to her dad.

  “I wasn’t trying to be disloyal. I’m sorry you see it that way. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  She felt Liam at her back and stiffened. There usually weren’t witnesses to her father’s disappointment. Liam’s hands came to her shoulders, and the quiet squeeze of support loosened the tension in her chest and infused her with strength.

  “When are you coming back?”

  She took a deep breath, let it out. “Soon. I’d like to wait and see if there’s a funeral or wake to pay my respects.”

  He scoffed. “Fine.” And then he disconnected. Just like that.

  Isla pulled the phone from her ear and stared at the screen. “That went about as well as expected,” she muttered, tossing her phone down to her carry-on.

  Liam pulled her back against his chest, offering comfort Isla wanted badly enough to accept.

  “Your dad didn’t take that well,” he said.

  Isla laughed, turned in his arms. “He’s…complicated.”

  Liam arched one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows. “His little girl just flew across the country after hearing that her grandfather—his father�
�died, and he didn’t even ask if you were okay. He yelled at you.”

  Isla stared at him. Who was this ridiculously hot, supportive stranger? If her father hadn’t just reamed her out, she might think she was dreaming.

  “I’m not a little girl—I’m almost thirty. I run an entire division of my father’s fitness company,” she said, feeling the need to point that out yet not able to bring herself to defend her father’s actions. Mostly because she was tired of them. Tonight was a different context but nothing new.

  Liam cupped her jaw again. “You’re his child. He should have asked if you were okay.”

  She liked the conviction in his tone. “You’re right. He should have. But he never would.”

  Liam nodded, but it was clear from his expression he didn’t understand or approve. Neither did Isla, but she’d stopped trying to make sense of her father a long time ago.

  “You probably want to get back downstairs.”

  His smile came slowly as his eyes warmed, creating a matching heat in her belly. “Not even a little bit.”

  Nerves flitted around her stomach, getting caught in her rib cage. “I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl,” she blurted. Even though part of her knew, if there was ever a man who could tempt her, she’d now met him.

  His smile grew bigger. “Maybe I’m not a one-night-stand kind of guy.”

  Isla laughed. “I don’t think that guy exists.”

  With a tenderness that stole her breath and settled her nerves, he stroked a hand down her hair. “He does tonight. You don’t need a one-night stand, Isla. You need a friend.”

  Hmm. She’d never felt combustible sparks with a friend, but he was right. Still, a tiny kernel of disappointment that he might not feel the same level of attraction lodged in her brain.

  Like he could read her mind, he leaned in closer so they were sharing air. “Now tomorrow, if I persuade you to stay longer than a day, it won’t count as a one-night stand.”

  She laughed, marveling at how a stranger she’d met only a short while ago made her feel more at home than she did in her own city with her own family.

  Chapter Four

  Liam winced at the pain in his neck when he opened his eyes. Blinking, it took him a minute to orient himself. Isla was curled up on the other side of the couch, her features beautiful even in her sleeping, peaceful state. They’d watched Netflix, hardly talked, and just held hands. Jesus. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a night so innocent. Or enjoyed time with a woman so much.

  With a wide smile, he stretched. Somehow, a night of doing nothing with an almost stranger had been hotter, more meaningful, than any of the connections he’d made lately.

  Maybe it was because he sensed she didn’t let her guard down all that often. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he sent a text to his cousin, who owned a bakery down the street.

  Isla stirred, shifted, but continued to sleep. Liam used the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and thought about the woman sleeping on his couch. When he came back out, she was sitting up, and her gaze landed on him. She had that tousled, sexy look of a woman who wasn’t all the way awake.

  “Hey,” he said, wondering how she’d feel in the light of day.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice a little rough and a lot sexy.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she startled. Walking over, he ran a hand down her hair, loving the feel of it beneath his palm.

  “I ordered some breakfast,” he said.

  Going to the door, he opened it enough to see his cousin Davis, but not enough so Isla could be seen. Most women didn’t want company first thing in the morning. He didn’t know her that well—yet—but he wanted to. He felt a strange desire to protect her but had no idea from what.

  He’d never thought about the intimacy of that before—the privilege of seeing a woman when she first woke up. He didn’t have a lot of experience with being around the morning after, which wasn’t a problem for the women he met—women who were fine with an evening of mutual fun. Liam didn’t have to know Isla well to know she wasn’t that kind of woman. Even if she hadn’t straight-up told him.

  “Hey, man. Late night?” Davis asked, a tray with two coffees in one hand and a white paper bag with his logo across the front in the other.

  “Yeah. Thanks for this,” Liam said, grinning when Davis tried to peer over his shoulder.

  “Anyone I know?” His cousin’s easy grin made him laugh.

  “Definitely not. Thanks again.”

  “Hey, I think I might be able to head down to Florida with you for a few days of your spring training,” Davis said.

  Liam looked over his shoulder and saw Isla wasn’t on the couch anymore. The bathroom door was closed, so he breathed easier.

  He turned back to his cousin. “Cool. Let me know. Gotta go,” he said.

  Through the closed door, he heard Davis’s laughter and couldn’t help but smile.

  Isla came out of the bathroom and zeroed in on the coffee he was setting on the small table behind the couch.

  “If that’s coffee, you are officially my favorite person,” she said, her voice more awake.

  “Then we’re both in luck. Wasn’t sure what you liked, but Davis brought cream and sugar,” he said, popping the lids off and doctoring his as she did the same.

  “Davis?”

  “Cousin. He owns a bakery down the street.”

  She stirred her coffee and put the little stick aside, bringing it to her lips. He tried not to stare at her mouth but couldn’t help himself. The look in her eyes when she took that first sip had his stomach tightening.

  “Bit of an addict, huh?” He smirked and took a drink of his own.

  “You could say that. What’s in the bag?”

  Laughing at the eager tone in her voice, he set his coffee down and went to grab a couple of plates. When he opened the bag, he saw Davis had put a variety of muffins and pastries inside. He set them on the plates and gestured to them.

  Isla stared with a quiet, fascinated smile.

  “You’re good-looking, funny, kind, and make coffee and pastries magically appear. Do you want to get married?”

  Laughing, he snagged an apple pastry and a napkin. “We should probably get to know each other a little better first.”

  “Hey, I know all of the most important things,” Isla teased, grabbing a chocolate chip muffin.

  They moved to the couch and sat close, angled toward each other, eating their breakfast and drinking coffee in a comfortable, if slightly charged, silence. He was trying to think of a way to ask her to stay. At least for another night.

  Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it on the table. Licking her fingertips, which had Liam biting back a groan, she wiped her hands on her napkin and picked up her phone.

  Shooting him a glance, she shrugged. “I don’t recognize the number, but I should take it.”

  He nodded, finishing off his pastry. His cousin was a master in the kitchen.

  “Hello?” Isla said.

  Liam made himself busy by reaching over the back of the couch and snagging a blueberry muffin.

  “This is, yes… Oh. Okay. No, I’m in Nashville. I got in last night but not in time… I’m not sure. Have you contacted my father or brother— I don’t understand… Okay. Will there be a funeral? Oh. Okay. Yes. I can stay a few days.”

  Liam couldn’t hold back his grin. Looked like he wouldn’t have to do much persuading after all.

  Her eyes met his just before she grabbed her purse from the floor and dug around in it, pulling out a pen and a small notepad. Liam shook his head, his smile wider. Who carried a notepad in their purse?

  She jotted down an address. “Okay. Thank you. Yes, I’ll see you then.”

  She hung up and put the phone on the table, her brows drawn together and her jaw tight.

  “You okay?” Liam stretched his arm along the back of the couch and touched his fingers to her shoulder.

  “Yeah. That was my grandfather’s lawyer. He needs
to speak with me. Which is odd.”

  He hated the sadness that overtook her features. Setting his half-eaten muffin down, he pulled her closer and was more than pleased when she put her head in the crook of his arm, on his shoulder. The scent of her hair tickled his senses. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable around another person in such a short span of time.

  “Did he contact your dad?”

  She tilted her head back and looked at him, bringing their faces dangerously close. “No, that’s the strange thing. My father knows his dad died, but it was only me the lawyer wanted to see. Which, when it gets back to my dad, will not go over well. He’d like to see me the day after tomorrow. There’s going to be a funeral, but Cordelia is being very particular about the guest list.”

  His heart clenched. “You’re not on it?”

  She shook her head. “I understand.”

  “I’m sorry. If the lawyer isn’t going to call your dad, how will he know?”

  She gave a sad smile that unfurled foreign emotions inside of him. “I’m here when he doesn’t want me to be. He always knows how to get the information he wants. Obviously, he knows how to keep secrets just as well.”

  He could see how much that bothered her, and the fact that he was keeping his own secret didn’t sit right. In this moment, he was just a man who’d met a woman and connected on some level he hadn’t been aware of, and Liam didn’t want to wreck that. Other than not telling her what he did for a living, there’d be no other omissions. He just wanted today to be with her. Maybe tomorrow, if she could swing it. It was probably a selfish thought, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet.

  “Think your dad will show up?” He wondered what her grandfather had done for a career that a lawyer would be contacting her this quickly.

  She shrugged and lowered her chin. “I don’t know. Honestly. Growing up, I thought he was already gone…my grandfather. Both of my grandparents on his side, actually. I’d overheard conversations about the two of them being estranged, and then there was nothing. No mention at all. It was such a shock when I got the call. That I even had a grandfather. That he was dying. That he wanted to see me.”

 

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