“Just please tell him to be careful,” she said. “I’d hate for my slide to be responsible for his injury.”
“I will.”
“It looks like a line has formed at check in. I’d better get back to the table,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I stepped further onto the beach, closer to Jack. The majority of the crowd surrounding him now consisted of adults. One woman in particular seemed to be getting a little too close, and a feeling I didn’t want to name raced through my body. I took a step closer then stopped myself. I stood in place and took in a deep breath then slowly let it out. After repeating that several times, I had the unnamed emotion under control.
I can’t go rushing over there just because a pretty girl is getting a little handsy. He’s a big boy and knows how to handle himself. If he needs help I’m sure he’ll let me know.
As if he heard my thoughts, Jack looked in my direction. He widened his eyes then inclined his head the barest hint toward the woman clinging to his right bicep. I took that as my cue and walked toward his little gang, hearing more of the conversation as I approached.
“We start every season planning on going to the Series. We have the talent to get there and we’ll give it our all,” Jack said. “If the team doesn’t suffer any major injuries, all the stars align, and the baseball gods smile down on us, we’ll win it all.”
I strategically worked myself into the inch of space he’d created between himself and the woman who had suction cupped herself to him.
“Speaking of injuries,” one man said. “How’s McMullen looking? Is he going to be back this year?”
“Dan looks great,” Jack said. “All healed up and ready to play.”
Before anyone could ask another question, I said, “I think they’re looking for people to take their seats.” The lie seemed logical as the official start time had passed fifteen minutes ago.
Jack’s admirers slowly left the circle, most of them making sure to shake his hand and say a few words before departing. A blond boy wearing a Waves jersey approached and said, “Thanks again for the ball.”
“You’re welcome, Jeremy,” Jack said, as he shook the boy’s hand. “I’ll find you after dinner so we can race on the slide.”
The boy’s face lit up with his smile. “Great. Thanks!”
He turned and ran off, his gangly pre-teen limbs looking like they’d tangle together.
“Race on the slide?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just trying to make the fans happy.”
“Right.”
“Hey Jack.” The sultry voice came from behind him. His broad shoulders had hid her from my view, but when he shifted, there she stood, looking like she wanted to take a bite out of him. “There’s room at my table if you’re looking for somewhere to sit,” she said.
“I appreciate that,” he said. “But I think we’re set.”
Is it my imagination or did he put extra emphasis on we’re? It must be. I can’t imagine he’d do anything to alienate a potential conquest.
He looked toward me for confirmation, and I nodded.
“Thanks anyway,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed in my direction, then looked adoringly back at him. “I’ll see you later then.”
Alrighty then. I guess they already have plans. Hopefully he’ll have her sign an NDA before they do anything.
Jack
When did bold women start pissing me off?
It’s not that I want someone who’s totally submissive, but it would be nice if they at least let me decide if I want them touching me before they’re practically attached. I’m pretty sure I’d be arrested if I walked up to a woman at an event, plastered myself against her, and started stroking her chest.
“Jack?” Hannah’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just taking it all in.”
She didn’t look convinced, but let it drop.
“We’re sitting right over there with Rose Garrett,” she said. “But I was going to grab a drink first,” she said. “There’s a non-alcoholic daiquiri over there with my name on it. Did you want one?”
“Daiquiris aren’t really my thing, but homemade lemonade is and it looks like they have that, too,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We’d just gotten our drinks when someone stepped onto the makeshift stage and asked everyone to take their seats. Hannah led the way to our table and we took the last two chairs. After quietly introducing ourselves to the other six people at the table, we sat back and listened to the woman at the microphone. Once she was done, she came to our table and told us to head over to the buffet. I won’t argue with that. I’m starving.
I grabbed two plates and handed one to Hannah, then waited for her to go ahead of me. Her eyes widened, but she eventually took my cue and moved forward. She proceeded to take a tiny scoop of every item as she progressed. My scoops were a bit larger.
“Everything looks amazing,” she said.
“Then why are you taking portions that would only satisfy a bird?” She glanced back at me, her brow furrowed. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those women that doesn’t eat.”
The edges of her mouth curled into a small smile and she looked down her body, then back at me.
“Does it look like I don’t eat.”
My eyes took the same path hers had, over every sweet dip and curve, before meeting her gaze again.
“It’s hard to tell.”
I need a closer inspection was on the tip of my tongue, but thankfully I didn’t say it out loud. I can’t go there.
We continued down the buffet line and by the time we reached the huge salad at the end, my plate was heaping. Thankfully they had smaller plates for that purpose. Hannah actually took a full-sized portion of salad, adding all the amazing toppers.
“All done?” I asked after she poured a small amount of dressing on her salad. She nodded and we made our way back to the table. I set my plates down then said, “I’m going to grab another lemonade. Do you want another daiquiri or would you like something different?”
She glanced at her nearly-empty drink. “Another daiquiri sounds great. Thank you.”
Thankfully the line is short and I had our drinks in no time, opting to add whipped cream to Hannah’s daiquiri. She didn’t get it on her last one, but when I was given the option, I couldn’t resist.
I turned to walk back to the table and almost crashed into the annoying woman from earlier. She did tell me her name, but I don’t remember what it is. And even if I did, I wouldn’t use it. I don’t want to encourage anything and experience has taught me that something as small as that would.
“Hey Jack. Thirsty?”
“Only one is for me,” I said and held up my lemonade.
She leaned closer and said, “Maybe we can sneak away so you can buy me a real drink.”
Why the actual fuck does this woman think I’d want to buy her a drink? Or anything else? I’ve done nothing to encourage her.
“Sorry, but I’m booked. Enjoy the rest of your night,” I said, trying to be as polite as possible. After all, I’m here for positive PR. I don’t need to cause a scene.
Her mouth turned down and her lip popped out into a pout. She leaned toward me, squeezing my bicep between her fake boobs.
“I’ll check with you later,” she said. “Maybe your schedule will open up.”
She wiggled off in the other direction before I could tell her not to hold her breath.
I made my way back to my table, and placed Hannah’s drink in front of her before settling into my seat. Her head was bent toward Rose Garrett, and they appeared to be deep in conversation. The older woman’s silver hair gives her a matronly look, but the twinkle in her eyes hints at a youthful mischievousness. I imagine my mother would look that way if she’d lived long enough. She’d had such a joy for life and tried to make every day an adventure. Ironic since she didn’t make it to her fortieth birthday.
Not wanting to go too far down the rabbit
hole of despair, I picked up my fork, speared a shrimp and popped it into my mouth.
Hannah glanced over at me and frowned.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Mmm hmm.” I finished chewing. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You look upset.”
“I’m good.”
She looked directly into my eyes so long it made me uncomfortable. I worked at keeping my expression neutral and hoped my eyes didn’t give anything away. Even after twenty-two years, thoughts of my mother make me emotional. Obviously I miss her, but it also brings the resentment I feel toward my father to the surface. Yes, he lost his wife, but I lost my mother. He was the adult. He should have at least given the appearance that he was holding his shit together.
Fuck!
I blinked and turned toward my plate.
“The food is amazing, Mrs. Garrett,” I said, changing the conversation. Thankfully the whole table picked up on the topic of food, taking my mind off my depressing thoughts for the moment.
The people at this event are definitely more in-your-face than the ones at the last had been. They’re not rude or anything, just quicker to approach. Maybe it’s because this event is so casual. Or maybe this dorky shirt makes me seem like someone they want to talk to. I don’t know the reason, but I’ve had to be on all night. I’d just signed the last item from Hannah’s bag and its recipient walked off happy.
“Wow,” Hannah said as she folded her empty bag. “I can’t believe it’s all gone. Tonight has been pretty intense.”
I nodded and inclined my head. “Come on. Let’s walk before someone else approaches.” She followed my lead. “Keep your head down and don’t make eye contact,” I said, only semi-joking. I spotted Jeremy and groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I promised that kid I’d race on the slide with him.”
She looked in Jeremy’s direction. “Maybe he forgot?”
“When I was his age, if I’d met Nomar Garciaparra at an event like this and he told me he’d race me on the slide, I wouldn’t have forgotten.”
“Probably not now, either,” she said with a small smirk.
“True,” I admitted. “Come on. Hopefully I won’t end up racing everyone here.”
Chapter 10
Hannah
Spending so much time with Jack is going to kill me. I’m finding that he isn’t a waste of handsome. I’ll have to admit to Mrs. Button that she’s right.
He’s definitely too handsome for his own good, but he’s not the self-absorbed jerk I thought him to be. Instead I’m finding that he’s funny, well-mannered, and surprisingly considerate. This can only stand to make my irrational crush even more ridiculous.
Jack toed off his Sperrys and left them next to me in the sand.
“Do you still have the Sharpie?” he asked.
I dug into the tote and pulled out a blue and a black marker.
“Color preference?” I asked.
He took both and held them up to an approaching Jeremy.
“Blue or black?” he asked.
The boy scrunched his face then said, “Black.”
Jack popped the cap off the black Sharpie and asked, “Where do you want it signed?”
“On my back, right by your number.” Jeremy turned and pointed to his shoulder blade.
Jack paused for a second before scrawling his name across the jersey, then added #5 just under it. He placed the top back on the black marker and handed both back to me.
“Thanks,” Jeremy said, twisting his neck to check it out. His beaming smile saying more than any words could.
“Now, are you ready for me to kick your butt on that slide?” Jack asked and was answered with an enthusiastic nod. “I’ll be back,” he said to me then he and the boy ran toward the slide.
Grabbing Jack’s shoes, I stuffed them into the tote and made my way closer to the slide to get a better look. I have no idea how tall it is, but in order to enjoy the ride down, you have to climb up a net to get to the top.
The line had thinned significantly since the event began, but there were still people in front of them. Jack and Jeremy talked non-stop while they waited, occasionally looking up to watch whoever was on the net climbing to the top. Before long, it was their turn. Jack turned and said something, prompting a smile and a nod from the boy.
I noticed a woman off to the side with her phone held up, I assume recording the whole thing. Deciding to investigate, I moved closer until we stood only a person-width apart.
Jack and Jeremy each had one foot on the net and when the man in charge of the slide blew his whistle, they were off. Jack took a quick lead, the muscles in his forearms and calves bulging as he progressed. He looked back at Jeremy and I held my breath when his foot slipped off the net and he hung by his arms before finding his footing again. That allowed Jeremy to take the lead, and I realized Jack had done it on purpose.
They quickly scurried to the top and before I knew it, were sliding to the bottom. Jack bent his knees, allowing Jeremy to stand a split second ahead of him. The woman next to me put her phone down and I watched as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Are you Jeremy’s mother?” She nodded and sniffed. I moved closer and held out my hand. “I’m Hannah Adams. I work for the Waves. I’m here with Jack.”
“Karen Walsh.” She looked at me with watery eyes. “I’m sorry.” She dabbed at them again. “I’m not usually so blubbery, but watching my son interact with one of his heroes like that has me a mess. Thank Jack for this. He’s been amazing with everyone, but in my opinion, has gone above and beyond with Jeremy.”
While we were talking, Jack and Jeremy had taken advantage of the lack of a line at the speed throw. Despite the fact that the boy had put his whole body into his throw, I imagine Jack still pulled a faster speed.
“You can tell him yourself. It looks like they’re done over there and are coming this way.”
“Oh God. I’m a mess and Jack Reagan is coming over.”
She wiped her eyes again and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Mom, did you see? I won!” Jeremy yelled, then added, “On the slide anyway. Jack beat me on the speed throw.”
I have to give Karen credit, she kept her attention on her son while he spoke instead of gawking at Jack.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much about that,” Jack said. “I’m a little bigger and a lotta years older. You’ve got a helluva arm.”
But once he spoke, Karen had the usual fangirl reaction. Her face flushed and she looked like she might faint.
“Hi, I’m Jack Reagan,” he said to Karen. He said it so casually, as if he needed to introduce himself. “Jeremy’s a great kid. Thanks for letting me hang with him.”
Yes, the Waves does PR training with the players, but you can’t teach that.
Karen shook his hand and seemed a bit dazed, but got her bearings after a few seconds.
“Thank you for being here tonight. You’re Jeremy’s favorite player.”
Jack looked at me. “Can you hook Jeremy up with some tickets to a spring training game? And maybe for when we’re playing the Rays?”
“Seriously?” Jeremy said. “Thanks Jack!”
“It’s the least I can do for you representing me down here in Tampa territory.”
I reached into my back pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it to Karen.
“Take a look at the schedule and let me know when you’re available,” I said. “And we’ll work out the details.”
We said our goodbyes and Jack gave Jeremy a high five.
“See you at the park,” he said as we walked away.
Thankfully no one else approached as we walked toward the exit. Jack has been surrounded all night and I imagine he’s ready to get out of here. I know I am.
“Hannah.”
I cringed when I heard my name, then realized it was Mrs. Garrett. She’s so sweet, I can’t be annoyed.
“Do you have a min
ute to explain the group event you mentioned to me at dinner to a couple other people?” she asked and gestured toward two women standing near the registration table. “I don’t want to mess up any of the details.”
“Sure.” I looked over at Jack and said. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
“I’ll go get the truck and pull it around.”
He turned to walk away and I realized I still had his shoes in my tote.
“Wait, you need your shoes.”
With a wave of his hand, he said. “I’m good. They’re my favorites, I don’t want to get sand in them.” And he continued walking barefoot across the parking lot.
I spent the next five minutes talking to the women. Mrs. Garrett had mentioned they wanted to put something together for the volunteers and sponsors as a thank you for helping with this event. I suggested a day at the stadium. She said they have a small budget set aside and I can be sure they get a lot of bang for their buck. Instead of giving them the number for group sales, I handed them each a card and told them to contact me with dates.
Did I mention that I love my job? The hours are often long and the pace can be stressful, but for the most part the players are easy to deal with and I have all the team’s resources at my fingertips. Mr. Hanover is dedicated to giving back to the community, so I have a pretty big budget to work with.
I expected to see Jack’s truck near the parking lot entrance, but it wasn’t there. I looked down the nearly empty lot and saw the Range Rover sitting exactly where we’d parked earlier. He said he was going to pull around, but it’s not a big deal for me to walk.
My phone buzzed and I stopped and pulled it out of my back pocket groaning as my father’s face flashed on the screen. I know I’ll have to deal with him soon, but today is not that day.
Declining the call, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and continued toward the truck. I was focused on breathing and chasing the turmoil from my thoughts when I spotted a person slipping around the driver’s side of Jack’s truck. She walked past me with a satisfied smirk on her face and I recognized her as the woman who’d been after him all night.
Waste of Handsome (Carolina Waves #2) Page 7