by Jody Holford
“You two can share,” Isla said, joining Liam by the table where he set out the food.
She grabbed plates and drinks and, despite the nerves still rolling through her, helped herself to the assortment of Greek chicken, roasted potatoes, hummus, and pita bread. Once her plate was full, she settled on the couch, bringing up the Skype app and dialing Addie. Her friend picked up on the third ring. It was an hour earlier in Colorado.
Addison’s face filled the screen. Her dark hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she wore a pair of black glasses that she reserved just for home. Most of the time, she wore contacts, but Isla thought she looked quite chic with the frames.
“Hey. It’s so good to see your face,” Addie said.
“Back at you,” Isla said, wishing she could hug the screen. The computer sat far enough back on the coffee table that her friend could see Liam and Talia.
“This is Liam and Talia Cruz, the siblings I told you about.”
Addie laughed, immediately putting Isla at ease. “She did tell me about both of you. But I think there’s a little more to the story than she originally shared.”
Just like that, the four of them shared a few laughs and anecdotes. The pressure the day’s events had piled on seemed to ebb. Isla curled her feet under her, telling Addie about the meeting with the lawyers and who else was there.
“I thought my dad had a large management team, but we have nothing on the Slammers,” Isla said.
“Speaking of which, we need to teach you about baseball,” Talia said. She glanced back and forth between Isla and Addie. “This is going to be like baseball for dummies, not that y’all are dumb, but it’ll be a crash course.”
“Nice,” Liam said around a bite of pita. “I invited Talia because she’s so good with words.”
The women laughed, but Isla didn’t mind. She could admit her flaws. It was one more thing that separated her from her brother and father. She believed that knowing where your own weak points were allowed a person to strengthen them, fill the gaps. Pretending they didn’t exist was just poor planning.
Settling back into the couch, Isla was surprised by how relaxed she felt, and not just because she’d had a second glass of wine. She knew it was, in part, because her friend was sort of there, and she wondered about asking Addie to join her in Nashville. Selfishly, it would make everything feel more balanced. More possible. But not tonight. She’d call her again tomorrow and touch base, listing some persuasive benefits of working for a team.
Liam arranged himself comfortably on the floor in front of the coffee table, on the same side as Isla, though she remained on the couch. She felt a tug in her heart for what they wouldn’t have, but then Talia leaned forward, setting her plate down and reminding Isla they weren’t alone. This was business. Mostly.
Liam began drawing on the piece of paper, and she leaned in to see he’d drawn a diamond.
Laughter bubbled out of her. “I take it back. I do know that the field is shaped like a diamond.”
Liam laughed and nudged her knee with his elbow. Knee to elbow should not incite sparks. Hardly erogenous zones! Her body disagreed, clearly.
“I want to show you the nine positions. When you’re sitting in the owner’s box, I don’t want you wondering what a 6-4-3 double play is.” His tone was teasing like he expected her to at least know that.
When she just stared, he shook his head with an indulgent grin, but it was Addie who spoke. “I’ve watched a few games with my dad, but I guess I’m going to get schooled as well, because I’ve got nothing.”
Leaning closer, trying to focus on his words and not him, she tried to file away the basic facts he was giving her. Once he’d gone through the positions and even explained his role as a designated hitter for the team, she had a slightly better grasp of what was happening within his drawing.
Talia picked at the pita left on her plate. “Does she need to know all of that? I mean, she can have a basic understanding of the game, but isn’t that what you have twelve thousand managers for?”
Addie and Isla laughed, making eye contact through the screen. Liam sent his sister a mock glare. “Not quite that many but yes.”
Liam pushed up off the floor and onto the couch beside Talia, tossing the pencil on the paper. “No, you’re not going to be out there, calling plays or anything, but this way, you have a foundation. You can keep up with what’s going on when you’re watching. Speaking of…” he said, trailing off to grab her remote.
“We taking a television break?” When he turned his face, he caught her staring at him. Her cheeks flushed.
Talia jumped up from the couch. “Oh, this is my favorite part. Give me a second to top off my drink, though.”
Still unsure what was happening next, Isla continued to stare at Liam.
“You need to stop being so damn cute, Isla,” Liam told her, his voice trickling over her skin like she imagined fingertips would.
When she inhaled, it was his masculine scent that filled her senses, clouding her vision. “Um, sorry?”
His hand came to her cheek as the television came on. “I’ve been bottom of the ninth, two out with a runner in scoring position and yet, not kissing you seems like the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Her stomach and heart collided, knocking the air from her lungs. Her gaze shifted toward the kitchen, then back to him. “I’m guessing what you said there isn’t easy?”
Lips tilting, he lowered his hand, put some added, and necessary, distance between them. “Not even a little.”
Talia returned, oblivious to the tension between them, and Isla was about to breathe a sigh of relief at not being “caught.” Until Addie cleared her throat. Isla’s gaze locked on her best friend. The person who knew her best. The person who could definitely read the guilty expression she was hoping she hid.
“Well, I’m going to sign off. Isla, I will definitely be talking to you tomorrow.” She winked. Isla’s cheeks heated. “It was awesome to meet you both, Talia and Liam. Take care of my girl.”
“No problem,” Talia said, giving a wave.
“That’s the plan,” Liam said. Now why did his words sound seductive? Because you want them to.
She shut the computer and took her cue from her new friends. Friends. I can have friends. She turned to the television. He was logging into Netflix while she was trying not to snuggle in to him. It was getting late and she was tired. She had a full day tomorrow but didn’t want to see him go.
“What are we watching?”
Talia clapped her hands together and then gave a fist bump. “Bull Durham.”
Liam chuckled. “Not her first time.”
Isla smiled. “I have heard of that.”
Liam side-eyed her. “You’re hot, Red. Funny as hell and the sweetest woman I’ve known, but your baseball education is sorely lacking.”
Talia snorted through her laugh. “Subtle, bro. Real subtle.”
At least they could joke about it.
Settling back into the surprisingly comfortable couch cushions, her emotions still jumbled around inside her like a tray of mixed paints, but there was something else, something about being with the Cruz twins that put her at ease. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to with many people. So, maybe things were a bit of a mess and her life was about to become a storm, but she wasn’t alone. At least, not at this moment.
Chapter Twelve
Isla jolted awake, blinking away the fog of sleep as she listened for what had woken her. Another knock. Glancing at Liam, who’d fallen asleep on the other end of the couch, the night before came back to her. Talia was curled up in the chair beside the patio doors. Isla couldn’t help but grin. They clearly both slept heavier than her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d pulled an almost all-nighter. Not since college, and those hadn’t been much fun.
The third knock cleared her muddled mind, and she went to answer the door. There was a doorman during the day, so whoever it was had approved access.
Opening the doo
r, Isla was greeted by a bearded man in what looked to be an extremely expensive suit. His facial hair was expertly trimmed, and his dark brown eyes were far more awake than her own. The takeout cups of coffee in his hands made him her new best friend.
“Hi,” Isla said, her voice scratchy. She resisted the urge to snatch one of the cups. The scent of dark-roast goodness woke her the rest of the way up.
“Good morning, Isla. I’m Ethan Ramsey. I handle PR for the Slammers and, more specifically for the next few weeks, you.”
“Does that mean you have to give me one of those coffees?” She slapped a hand over her mouth.
Ethan laughed, a deep chuckle that involved throwing his head back. If there wasn’t a gorgeous and sweet baseball player sleeping on her couch who pushed all her buttons, she’d be worried about the fact that, despite his appeal, Ethan did nothing for her. She doubted most women would feel that way. But they don’t have Liam asleep on the couch.
Neither do you—not in that way. Not anymore.
She realized that just like all-nighters, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up with a man two mornings in a row. Relationships weren’t a high priority for her in the past. Now, when there was someone she’d consider making room for, it couldn’t happen.
But at least there’s coffee.
Ethan handed over a cup and was about to say something. She saw his mouth move to form words as her hand circled the cup. Instead, his jaw dropped and all that came out were four letter expletives.
She stepped back, holding the coffee close, arching her brow. “That’s not a very nice reaction to sharing,” she said just as her back hit a solid wall of Liam.
Isla winced. So much for first impressions.
“Oops. Behind you, Red. Morning, Ethan. Why don’t you come in and shut the door so Isla’s neighbors don’t have to listen to your sailor mouth?” Liam’s gravelly morning voice slid over Isla more enticingly than the coffee.
Isla turned to see Liam as Ethan shut the door. “Morning,” she whispered.
“Morning. We’re probably in trouble,” he whispered back.
“I figured.” Why did she feel like laughing? This was not how she wanted to meet her employees.
“Stop whispering. What the hell are you doing here, Cruz?” Ethan handed his coffee over to Liam despite the deep frown on his lips.
Talia stumbled—there was no other word for it—into the kitchen, her hands holding her head. “Who is yelling and why? Do I smell coffee?”
“Talia?” Ethan’s mouth dropped open.
She froze. “Ethan. Did you bring coffee?”
“You know each other?” Isla asked.
Talia and Ethan’s gazes bounced off of each other and then they looked at Isla. Tal spoke first. “Of course. Lots of the Slammers frequent the bar. Even if they aren’t players.”
Ethan’s head whipped back and forth among the three of them, and Isla was sure they made quite a picture. All rumpled, still half asleep, and pretty greedy when it came to caffeine.
Ethan’s shoulders finally dropped and he sighed. “Maybe someone could explain what’s going on?”
Liam gave his coffee to his sister, which made Isla’s heart feel very unprofessionally mushy. Thank goodness Talia was here. Ethan’s anger seemed to have evaporated.
“Tal and I met Isla when she came into Salvation. Pretty crazy coincidence, but we hit it off and hung out before she found out who her grandfather was.” Liam glanced at her, his lips pursed a moment before he added, “And before she knew who I was. We’re friends.”
Isla’s heart tweaked uncomfortably at the label. It’s how it has to be. And thank goodness you have them both.
“You just happened to meet your new boss at the bar before she was your new boss,” Ethan said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Isla appreciated Liam filling in the gaps but knew it was time, bedhead or not, to speak for herself. “We did. Life is funny that way, sometimes bringing the people you need into your life before you even need them. I’m grateful to Talia and Liam. They’ve both been very kind to me. I was a stranger who’d lost her grandfather, and they gave me a place to stay, and last night, when I had no one else, they both took time out of their own lives to check in on me and help me process what’s happened. So really, there’s no need for you to look so grumpy over it.”
Liam smothered a laugh as he fiddled around with the coffee machine, and Ethan’s eyes popped wide.
“Jesus. Mary Poppins owns the Slammers,” Ethan muttered, and Liam full-out laughed.
Talia choked out a giggle and boosted herself up onto the counter near Ethan, clearly comfortable in her own skin, or wrinkled clothes. “That’s actually a good description. Mary Poppins with a side of whatever female heroine is kicking ass in the box office right now.”
Ethan’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Talia. She shrugged, sipped her coffee. “What? I don’t know what movies are out right now.”
Isla wasn’t quite sure what to do with that description, but it wasn’t terrible. She just hoped she could live up to the kick-ass part.
Grabbing the milk from the fridge, she added a splash to her coffee, making a list of things she needed to do today. She didn’t have to meet with the management or team until tomorrow. Her father and Ian were in town now, which meant she needed a game plan. But first, she needed to get out of her freaking pajamas.
“I’m going to shower and change. Please make yourselves at home. I wasn’t expecting to have a meeting today, Ethan, but you must be here for a reason. I won’t be long.”
Without waiting for a reply, she took her coffee and walked away. Once she was refreshed and dressed in something more appropriate, she’d have a better shield in place. As much as she felt herself slipping down a dangerous slope for Liam, she knew she had to put it aside. She wanted this opportunity to prove herself.
From the moment Josiah had told her she’d inherited the team, she’d felt this…seed of hope. Something had blossomed inside her, and she knew this was her chance to make her own mark instead of following after her father trying to gain approval.
She could do this. But not until she’d showered and finished her coffee.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam made himself at home in the kitchen, getting coffee started and rooting around in the fridge to find something to make for breakfast. He hated that he felt like he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t.
He wanted to. Wanted to more than was wise, but he didn’t. And Ethan should know him well enough to not be looking down his nose at him right this minute. Reminding himself that the Slammers’ reputation was Ethan’s job and priority, he rolled his shoulders and tried to relax.
Talia jumped off the counter. “I’m going to head out. I need a couple more hours’ sleep.”
Liam leaned on the counter, not liking the way Ethan’s eyes roamed over his sister.
“You play chaperone last night?” Ethan’s voice was stiff, like his stance.
Talia grinned at him and stepped closer. “How do you know it wasn’t Liam who played chaperone?”
Laughter rumbled out of his chest. Damn, he loved his sister.
She patted Ethan on the chest and walked over to Liam, slapped him on the arm. “See you later. Last night was fun. Forgot how much I missed hanging out watching sports movies.”
Liam squeezed her shoulder. He’d had a great time, too, and despite the sexual tension that seemed to hover between him and Isla, the night hadn’t been awkward at all.
“Thanks for showing up,” Liam said.
She narrowed her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t?”
Liam walked Talia to the door and came back to find Ethan still in the same spot. He appreciated the man’s restraint in waiting until they were alone to lose his cool. “What are you doing, Cruz?” He unbuttoned his black suit coat and shrugged it off. “She’s your boss. She’s my boss. And don’t tell me she’s into Talia because the way that woman looked at you? I’ve seen that look to
o many times before.”
Liam hadn’t noticed any look and, if he had, he knew it wasn’t one he often got, because there was something different about Isla. She didn’t care who he was. Well, she might now, because it would keep them apart, but there’d been a tiny sliver of time when they’d just been a man and a woman with nothing else hanging over them.
He shrugged, irritation prickling his skin at the word “boss.” It wasn’t like he didn’t know that. It was something he’d be reminding himself of several times a day, he imagined.
Needing something to do, he grabbed some eggs from the fridge, then found a bowl and a whisk. “What I said is exactly what happened, man. She walked into the bar, we hit it off, she was sad, I offered her a place to crash, and everything blew up the next day. I know I can’t cross that line, and I don’t need a lecture. Trust me, I get it.”
Ethan pressed curled hands to the counter and dropped his head a minute before locking eyes with Liam. “I have a brother who just asked a woman to marry him. I know that look.” He pointed an accusing finger.
Eggs in hand, Liam deadpanned, “I’m not asking you to marry me, E. I just want to be friends.”
Judging from his expression, Ethan did not find him amusing, but Liam knew he couldn’t downplay his fast-growing feelings for Isla effectively. He was fine with deflection if it gave him a chance to sort things out in his own head and heart.
“I’m serious, Cruz. This isn’t like you. Even before you came to the Slammers—you keep yourself out of negative publicity better than any high-profile player I’ve known. Are you aware of what this could do to your reputation? To hers? She’s already up against more than I can tell you.”
He didn’t like the sound of that, even though it wasn’t a surprise. “Listen, neither of us has done anything wrong. You’re grasping at straws, and I’ve gotta say, man, I don’t like it. I told you nothing happened. My sister was with us the entire night, and her friend joined us via Skype. I get the labels and what they mean, so back off.”