“Hey, man, check it out.” He elbowed Mike in the ribs with enough force to make him grunt. “A real looker, huh?”
The very looker Mike had just been eyeing, only Pete had been so caught up in his own gawking he hadn’t noticed.
“No ring on the finger either,” Pete pointed out, talking low. “What do you think, twenty-five, twenty-six?”
If what Mike had just overheard were true, the woman in question could be closer to his age, forty. This would make her almost old enough to be Pete’s mom. That thought put a grin, if nothing else, on Mike’s face. “I didn’t know you were into older women.”
He felt more than saw Pete’s shrug.
“She’s not that much older,” he said without care. “Besides, it doesn’t matter to me. Age can be a plus.”
He gave Mike a lecherous grin that said more than words.
“Experience, you know, man.”
Usually Pete didn’t bother him but for some odd reason his intense interest in Emma rubbed Mike the wrong way. “I just heard Troy call her ‘Mom’,” he informed him, wanting to erase the smitten look from the other man’s face.
Pete reared back with total surprise, his bushy eyebrows arched high. “You’re kidding, man! Tell me you’re just making that up. You just want her for yourself.”
I do want her for myself. Mike narrowed his eyes on Pete for a moment, resisting the urge to clobber him. What the heck was the matter with him? He shook his head with disgust, deciding there was no getting through to him. Against his will, Mike’s gaze returned to Emma.
She and Amanda were slowly making their way in his direction and Amanda was making a half-hearted attempt at introductions along the way. His gaze followed the responses of the players sitting on the bench as they walked by, watching their eyes roam appreciatively over Emma. There wasn’t one man who didn’t show an interest in the shapely hips and legs paraded before them.
Her cute ass.
Mike didn’t know where it came from but he was hit with a jolt of jealousy so unexpected it sucked his breath away. He quickly turned back to the water cooler for another drink. Hoping it would calm his suddenly taut nerves. The thought crossed his mind that he might as well take the damn thing and hold it over his head. He had no claim on Emma, so why was he feeling so possessive towards her?
God, he prayed he wasn’t as transparent as he felt.
* * * *
As they moved slowly along, Emma did her best to keep a wooden smile on her face, acknowledging the introductions in some small way. She’d never remember all their names and after the eighth or ninth man, their dirty, sweat streaked faces became a familiar blur. She knew they were all police officers but some of them didn’t look old enough to shave. Still, it didn’t keep them from looking at her like she was an attractive woman. That knowledge sent a little thrill through her.
It was obvious they were heading to the end of the bench where there was room to sit, but Emma would have been content to remain out of the dugout altogether. Her only consolation was they weren’t the only women there. As they neared the end of the dugout, she stared at Mike. He was getting a drink, but she was sure he’d been watching her earlier. She couldn’t help be aware of him too, watching the muscles flex in his biceps as he brought the cup to his lips. Observing the way the corded muscles in his throat worked as he drank. Emma sensed he knew she was there, yet he didn’t appear in any hurry to acknowledge her.
“Mike, I’d like you to meet Mom, I mean Emma.”
Amanda pushed Emma in front of her as though she were a shy, reluctant child.
Surprise caused Emma’s head to snap in Amanda’s direction. There was definitely something different in her tone this time. A difference that caused alarm to shoot through her, which settled in her belly like a five-pound box of chocolates. The feeling became worse when she caught Amanda glancing at Troy, who was sitting there with his arms crossed, shaking his head with disgust. If Emma didn’t know better, the happy-go-lucky Troy was almost angry.
With a resigned sigh, she glanced at Mike, beginning to wonder if he was going to ignore them. He finally turned, with obvious reluctance, to acknowledge them. Crushing the empty cup in his hands, he tossed it into the nearby garbage can.
He acknowledged Amanda briefly before directing his slightly amused gaze on Emma. “This is chunky mama?” he asked in disbelief.
Emma’s startled gaze flew to Amanda, who’d recently taken to calling her that when they were working out at the gym together. Apparently that wasn’t the only time she used it in reference to her.
“I see you know our family secret,” she said softly, her words meant for him only. She held her hand out. “But I won’t hold it against you. Nice to meet you, Mike.”
For a moment it looked as though he wasn’t going to return her handshake. He stared at her outstretched hand as if it were a poisonous snake or something before finally grasping it. Emma couldn’t ignore the sharp current of awareness traveling up her arm when they touched. She wondered if he felt it too.
“Nice to meet you.”
His gaze ran over Emma as though looking for the reasons of her unusual nickname. His inspection was far from impersonal, and her body responded in an obvious way.
“This isn’t the first time,” Emma breathed in a silky voice, noticing his eyes were sexy even when they were sharp and assessing. She ignored the sudden, erratic jump of her pulse. But she couldn’t ignore the tingle in her hardening nipples.
“No, ma’am,” he agreed in a deep voice, leaving it at that.
She was vaguely aware Amanda remained in the background, looking on with too much interest. But she was unable to break eye contact with Mike. Something about him excited her, pulling her in like a magnet. When it occurred to Emma they were still holding hands, she slowly slipped hers from his warm grasp.
She wasn’t surprised to realize she was attracted to him. The bright blue of his eyes held her captivated, reminding her of the crystal blue waters off the Bahamas. She could eagerly dive in and discover the secrets behind those intriguing orbs.
The silence between them made Emma uncomfortable and she glanced out at the ball field. “That was a quick inning; it looks like your team is up,” she said softly, watching the other team returning to the dugout opposite them.
“Do you play baseball?” There was a faint twinkle in the depths of his eyes.
“No, I’m too…” She caught herself before saying what was on the tip of her tongue. It occurred to her she was far from the oldest kid on the block. She gauged Mike’s age to be somewhere around forty.
The grin that broke out on his face took her breath away, and left her feeling flustered inside.
“Too old?” he supplied, guessing where her thoughts were heading.
Again his gaze swept Emma from head to toe and back again. Only this time with more boldness.
“From where I stand, ma’am, I’d say you’re on the right side of perfect.”
Her jaw dropped with surprise, and Emma’s belly did a flip-flop. Mike was gone before she could utter another word. It’d been so long since she’d received a compliment that she didn’t know how to react.
Amanda broke her concentration by stepping directly in front of her. Blocking her view of Mike as he was leaving the dugout.
“You can close your mouth now.” Amanda’s tone revealed she was as pleased as punch about something.
Emma slowly focused her gaze on her, struggling to pull herself together. “What?” She didn’t know what Amanda was talking about. “Aren’t you supposed to go out on the field with the others?”
“I’m going; are you going to wait for me here?”
Emma wondered if that was a good idea. She looked at the field. Her gaze landed immediately on Mike. Suddenly she felt flushed. She met Amanda’s eyes with a feeling of guilt. She didn’t like the smile on her sister’s face; it suddenly reminded her of the look on Troy’s face earlier. “What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously.
The pink tinge in Amanda’s cheeks was a sure sign she was guilty as sin about something. “Nothing, I swear.”
Emma stared at her for a long moment before saying, “Go play ball, troublemaker.”
Chapter 3
Mike tried not to notice Emma on the sidelines but she was damn sexy and more than once he found his concentration on her and not the game. Every time he pitched, he looked at her, narrowing his eyes against the glare of the midmorning sun to make her out in the shadowy confines of the dugout. He was still having a devil of a time believing she was the mother of a full-grown daughter.
Babs Neely stepped up to the batter’s plate, taking a few practice swings with a bat almost as long as she was tall. An easy strike out. He grinned. He couldn’t recall a time she’d so much as made it to first base. The first two strikes went as predicted, but once again Mike found himself distracted when a movement from the dugout showed Emma going to the water cooler. Therefore, it didn’t come as a complete surprise when he finally got nailed, and by Babs of all people.
He raised his glove but it wasn’t in time to stop the ball, which was coming directly at him, from hitting him squarely in the eye. The force of it almost knocked him out and for a minute Mike literally saw stars. He swayed on his feet, shaking his head to clear it, vaguely aware the ball game had stopped and everyone was running toward him.
“I’m sorry, Mike!” Babs was the first one to reach him.
“Mike, man, you all right?” Pete asked with concern, reaching him after Babs.
“You took a hard hit in the eye, buddy,” a second player commented.
“You better go sit down and put some ice on it,” said another worried friend.
“Enough!” He held up his hand, motioning them all to stop, still shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. It started to throb immediately. Another minute and they’d have him in an ambulance and on the way to the hospital. “I’ve been hit in the eye before,” he reminded them in a brisk tone. “Relax.”
“You should still go put some ice on it,” Amanda encouraged. “It’ll keep the swelling down and…”
“Since when did you become a nurse?” He grinned, shooting her a look out of the corner of his eye.
“Mom…”
“Your mom’s a nurse?”
“She’s not…”
Only Mike wasn’t listening. He darted a glance at the dugout, to see Emma standing at the fence watching the whole episode. Is that concern on her pretty face? It was hard to tell with the sun in his one good eye. It was her fault he was going to have a black eye so it was only right she doctor him up. All of a sudden he felt dizzy, and he decided he’d better do as everyone suggested.
“Maybe I’d better,” he agreed with pretended reluctance. The prospect of spending a little time alone with the lovely Emma Stuart was too tempting to pass up.
Mike wasn’t in the market for feminine companionship but there was something very appealing about Emma. Furthermore, there was nothing in his decision to remain woman-free for the next five years that said he couldn’t enjoy an occasional flirtation. And maybe a good one-night stand.
He gently shrugged off the helping hands. “Go back to the game, guys.” No way was he going to allow them to walk him back to the dugout like he was an old cripple.
* * * *
Emma watched Mike slowly approach the dugout and immediately began looking around for something to use on his eye. Spying a cooler, she opened it and grabbed a handful of crushed ice before it dawned on her she didn’t have anything to put it in. She looked around for Amanda’s bag, realizing she’d probably have something in there she could use. Finding it beneath the bench, she sat down and opened it with one hand, digging through the contents for the first item of clothing she saw. However, when she held it up, her mouth dropped.
What the heck…
She glanced up just as Mike stepped into the dugout, and held her breath with embarrassment. It was definitely not Amanda’s bag she was rifling through. Their gazes locked, well, his one good eye to hers. A flush spread across Emma’s face that produced a full-fledged grin on his.
His gaze lowered to take in what she was holding in her hand. Her confidence to handle the situation lagged considerably by the amusement swimming in his dark eyes.
“I, ah, usually know a woman a little longer before letting her, ah, handle my underwear,” he had the nerve to say.
He crossed his arms, thoroughly enjoying her dilemma.
Emma was speechless, drowning in the deep water of Mike’s eyes. Not only had she been caught going through someone’s bag, but it turned out to be his. She glanced at the underwear in question, and her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when a foiled condom packet fell out and landed on her lap. She dropped the boxers as if she’d grabbed a snake, ignoring the condom, too horrified to move. She knew she should say something but the words stuck in her throat. The ice melting in her hand reminded her of what she’d been doing, enabling her to finally act with some amount of normalcy.
Trying for a smile, she was barely able to lift her voice above a whisper. “I, ah, thought this was Amanda’s bag; she has one that’s very similar. I saw you get hit in the eye and was looking for something to put this ice in.”
Mike surprised her by reaching forward. The closer he got the further she shrank back. But he only snatched the condom off her lap and tossed it back in his bag, his jaw tight as though trying to hold back a laugh.
“Is that for me?”
Emma nodded; thankful he wasn’t going to mention the condom. “Your eye’s already turning color…” Her voice trailed off into nothingness when he moved to his bag, which was on her lap. For a second his face was so close that she couldn’t breathe. Mike glanced up from his search in time to see her wetting her lips. His gaze lingered there and Emma was sure her heart stopped beating. She was certain she saw a flare of interest flash across his face.
He actually began lowering his face toward her. Is he going to kiss me? Emma held her breath, but all he did was to pull out a tank top.
“Will this do?”
Nodding, she held out her hand with the ice in it. It had almost melted completely. She’d have to get more. “It’s hot.” She jumped off the bench to go back to the cooler. I’m hot.
Mike jumped back to avoid being hit in the face but he wasn’t quick enough. Emma’s head caught him just beneath the chin, and he bit down on his tongue when his jaw snapped closed. He just barely managed to keep from swearing. Now he was really dizzy, and he swayed slightly on his feet.
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Emma reached out and grabbed him by the shirt.
The sound of material ripping seemed as loud as a clap of thunder, and was no less devastating for Mike. After ten years of wearing his lucky weekend tee shirt through numerous baseball games and fishing trips without anything more than a beer stain marring it, she’d managed to ruin it in the space of a few seconds. He opened his mouth in an effort to tell her it was okay, but the lie wouldn’t come.
“Oh my god.” She stood back with her hand over her mouth, peering at him with rounded eyes. “I think you were safer out on the field.”
Was she trying to be cute? Mike looked at her with his good eye. The other one was half-closed by the swelling. His hand examined the damage to his shirt, fingering the torn edges of material. His gut told him it wasn’t reparable.
Emma’s gaze dropping prompted him into taking a closer look. One side of his chest was exposed and running across it in three neat little lines were the obvious marks of her nails. His smile wasn’t meant to put her at ease. She was damn cute when she was flustered and Mike was enjoying every minute of it.
“You’ve put your mark on me.”
“I’m not usually this inept.” They watched the scratches bead up with blood. “Goodness, you look like you’ve been in a fight.”
She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off his chest, giving Mike the unexpected urge to rip the rest of his shirt off. Hell, the way Emma
made him feel he wouldn’t stop at just his shirt. He had the sudden urge to grab her to him and find out if her mouth was as soft and inviting as it appeared. Then maybe she’d scratch him again for a different reason. In spite of the innocence that cloaked her he bet she was a real fireball in bed.
The thought made Mike hot, that and the image of them fucking like there was no tomorrow that was dancing around in his head. The wild urge to find out pulsed through his blood. He glanced around. Wouldn’t that put on an X-rated show for the town?
“Are you all right? Your color doesn’t look so good. There’s a funny glaze in your, ah, good eye.”
There was no denying the concern in her voice as she began to run her gaze over him like a mother hen looking over her brood. He didn’t respond.
“Officer Denton?”
Hell, maybe he had a concussion. His pulse was racing, that was for sure. At the very least his blood pressure was rising at an alarming rate. He struggled for control. “I think we’re past the formality stage, don’t you?” He indicated his torn shirt.
“I’m so sorry about your shirt.” Her face turned a becoming shade of pink. “I’ll buy you another one.”
Once again her gaze ran over his exposed chest, which wasn’t doing anything to cool Mike off. His cock was tingling with awareness, which meant he was getting a hard-on. Damn! Definitely the wrong place and the wrong time.
“I don’t know if I should put this ice on your eye or your scratches.”
She could barely look him in the eye.
Mike took a deep breath. He knew what he’d like to say. The hell with his eye; no amount of ice was going to help it anyway. However, ice on his chest might help cool down the sudden heat boiling in his blood. Damn, he hoped he wasn’t obvious. But his body was having a very obvious reaction to Emma. His gaze shot out to the field, trying to gauge where the game was and when his team would be heading back in. The last thing he wanted was for them to return and see the state he was in.
PASSIONATE ENCOUNTERS Page 3