by Ally Blake
Cataloguing his features this way was suddenly no professional habit. This had nothing to do with any sort of professional survival mechanism. She was fast becoming bewitched by the guy.
Clearing her throat, she dragged her gaze away and waited for the ball. It bounced wildly at the final moment but she caught it, awkwardly, with her forearms.
‘Straight to me!’ Chris called.
Cara shuffled it into her hands and threw with all her might, meaning the ball took two bounces to reach him at second base. But reach him it did, just before the batter rounded it into second. He was tagged. Third man out. First innings; the Red Hotel Team nil.
Cara couldn’t believe it. She leapt into the air and let out a great whoop, then ran infield to meet up with her team who were all jogging to the bench ready to bat.
Adam waited on the mound until she had reached him, his eyes on her, all but ignoring the pats on the back he received from his passing team mates.
Cara slowed to a walk and they headed off the field together.
‘Well done, Ms Marlowe.’
‘Please. We were lucky it came straight to me.’
‘I kind of thought you might be more mindful of your new manicure.’
Cara blinked. ‘Did you now? Well, that shows how little you know about me, doesn’t it, Mr Tyler? Though I am a girl who likes a good manicure, I am a girl who likes winning more.’ Point made, she quickened her pace until she strode away from him.
Adam was getting used to watching her walk away. Her head was held high. Her short curly pony-tail bounced as she walked. She swayed almost saucily. But he knew she was no sportswoman. Her perfectly white sneakers had been the initial give-away.
His gaze travelled up from her sneakers. Up long, smooth legs, over her denim-clad hips, over her dainty waist, and a back held ramrod straight just for his benefit. She was a spitfire, this one. Too damn impudent for her own good. And she was dealing with someone who could give as good as he got in that department. Didn’t she realise that?
He kind of liked the fact that maybe she did realise it, yet it didn’t stop her for a second.
As she reached the bench she sat down with a fresh bottle of water and glanced back at him from beneath her cap. Her green eyes shot fire. And he was suddenly thankful she was on his team. In her cute little outfit, meant more for a leisurely picnic than a rough and tumble game, she was distracting enough being on the same team. She would be one heck of a troublesome opponent.
Who was he kidding? She had been one heck of a troublesome opponent from the moment she’d got the job. But also the most fun he’d had being at cross purposes with a woman.
Though there was a seat right next to her, he took a space at the other end of the bench and he could still feel the daggers she was shooting at him with her eyes. It made him smile.
Chris was up first.
‘Pitch to him carefully, mate,’ Jeff called out to the hotel team’s pitcher. ‘If he gets a black eye I’ll sue you and your hotel for all you’re worth.’
The pitcher lowered his ball, his eyes growing wide.
Jeff leant over to Adam and through his teeth said, ‘They’re toast!’
The pitcher all but threw underarm and Chris hit an easy double. Then a grinning Jeff followed with a single.
Adam was third man up. He shot a look Cara’s way as he walked to home plate but she was steadfastly looking anywhere but at him. His smile grew bigger.
Standing at the mound, he swung his bat several times to warm his shoulders. He then positioned himself ready for the pitch. He was kind of showing off and he knew exactly who for: a girl who admitted she liked to win. But they were on the same team so why play down his prowess? Why not help her get her wish? Adam set himself up to hit the hell out of the ball. The pitcher pitched. Adam swung. And he missed.
‘Come on, Adam,’ Jeff called out from first base. ‘Don’t sweat it. Swing and hit, buddy. Swing and hit.’
Adam felt his cheeks warm and he knew it wasn’t the weak spring sunshine that was doing it.
He could all but sense Cara smirking at his back.
He couldn’t help himself. He had to see it for himself. But when he flicked a glance over his shoulder he found she wasn’t smirking: she was leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her chin resting on her fingers, which she had positioned as a steeple. Her cheeks looked as warm as his felt.
And her eyes were not on his face, but lower. The woman had been checking out his butt! She blinked several times, then her gaze finally locked with his and she all but fell off her seat when she found he was watching her.
He turned away. Readied himself for the pitch. Swung. And missed. But it was not pride that stopped him that time, but the fact that his thoughts were anywhere but on the game. They were on the pink cheeks and bright, telling eyes of the compelling woman sitting behind him, and wondering where those telling eyes were focussed at that moment. He was used to women eyeing him up as if he were a prime rib, but this was different. Perhaps because it was unexpected. She’d given his ego enough of a bashing he had thought she was immune to his attractions. And the fact that she was not immune shook him up.
Adam squared his shoulders and focussed his attention on the game.
The pitcher smiled as he lined up. Smiled! As though Adam were some sort of lightweight and it was only a matter of time before he beat him.
Adam smiled back. Come on, kid, he thought. Give me all you’ve got.
The kid pitched. Adam swung. And connected. It was only a single. But he made it to first base with tremendous relief.
The next two batsmen were caught out. But the bases were still loaded.
Cara was up next. She stood. She picked up a bat between two fingers and Adam knew she had never held a baseball bat in her life.
She stood at home base and swung the bat in much the same way he had, and he knew she had no idea why she was doing it. It was adorable. Then she set her feet apart, lifted the bat, turned to face the pitcher and swallowed hard.
‘Come on, Cara,’ Chris called out. ‘Easy does it.’
Jeff called out, clapping. ‘Whack it for all you’re worth.’
Adam could see her considering. Easy does it, or whack it for all she was worth. And this to a girl who was still unsure she was holding the correct end of the bat.
‘Cara,’ Adam called out and saw her eyes swing wildly his way. ‘If you manage to even hit the ball I’ll shout you a new manicure.’
Her mouth dropped open. Then her eyes narrowed, and she wiggled her bottom and adjusted her stance. Her determination was palpable.
The pitcher pitched and Cara’s eyes clamped tight shut as she whacked the ball with every ounce of strength in her slender arms. The ball shot between the pitcher and the short stop and bounced past second base. Jeff jumped to let it between his legs and then he took off.
Adam watched as Cara opened her eyes, shock that she had hit the ball evident in her wide eyes.
‘Cara, run!’ Adam called out. She nodded then ran, the bat still in her hot little hand. Adam took off, his gaze swinging back to home plate to see that Chris had made it home.
The centre fielder misfielded so Jeff was able to follow Chris home. Adam rounded it towards third, jogging backwards the last few steps as the fielder picked up the ball. He stopped, turned, and saw Cara had made it to first and had pressed on. She was running towards second, and the second baseman had taken up residence there, awaiting the incoming throw.
It was tight. As tight as a race could get. Cara looked up and he saw the moment she knew it was going to be tight. She put her head down and ran.
The noise from the Blue Team bench was deafening. The fielder threw the ball, the second baseman readied himself and Cara was within reach.
The ball curved through the air in a beautiful arc. Cara saw it coming and, mustering every ounce of determination, she tucked one knee beneath her and in an all encompassing swirl of dust, and a great echoing crack, took a magnificent sl
ide into the base, taking out the fielder in the process until they ended up in a tangled pile of dirt and arms and legs.
CHAPTER SIX
EVERYONE rushed to second base, but Adam got there first. That crack had sounded too ominous for his liking. He slid to his knees, dragging the fielder from on top of Cara.
‘Cara,’ he called, his voice tearing from him painfully. He reached out to her but couldn’t touch her, fearing he might hurt her. What if that crack had been one of her bones? Or, God forbid, her neck? ‘Sweetheart, are you OK?’
Cara twisted about until she was on her knees herself. She was covered in dust from head to toe. Her cap had fallen off and bits of her hair had escaped from her pony-tail. Finally unable to stand it any longer Adam ran furious hands over her head feeling for lumps, blood, anything that might mean that she was badly hurt.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
She winced and his whole body clenched as she reached beneath her and pulled out half her bat. Adam found a thankful laugh rising in his throat as he realised it had been the splintering bat, which she had carried with her the whole way, and not any bones that had broken.
Finding nothing else wrong, he grabbed her face between his hands and looked deep into her eyes, and the joy that spread through him when he saw her eyes were lively and focussed was not something he wished to dissect.
Then she looked up at him and spat a clump of grass from her mouth. ‘Was I safe?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Was I safe? Did I get here first?’
Adam looked over to the second baseman who was back on his feet. He held out his empty hands. ‘Never even had the ball,’ the guy admitted.
Adam ran one hand down Cara’s face, his thumb wiping away a smear of dirt from her pale cheek. ‘You were safe, Cara. Safe but now a total mess.’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. I was promised a manicure so tomorrow I’ll be fine.’
‘You are one surprising lady, Ms Marlowe.’
She beamed at him. Her teeth showing perfect white from within her dusty face. ‘I can live with that.’
After the third innings, they sat down for lunch, everyone grabbing what they wanted from an array of cold meats and salads laid out on a picnic table. Cara made herself a huge ham roll, then sat down on a patch of grass under a large gum tree.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’
Cara squinted up into Adam’s face. He was shrouded in sunlight, his face seeming dark and ominous in the over-bright sunshine.
‘Of course not, Cap’n.’
Cara shuffled over so he had room on her patch of grass without them having to sit too close. Ever since he had caught her staring, she’d felt an awareness pulsating between them that she did not wish to encourage.
‘Having fun?’ she asked.
He took a bite of his roll and nodded.
‘Thanks for today,’ she said.
He shot her a quick salute.
‘The crew all look like little boys in a toy store. The idea of fresh air and sunshine appeal a heck of a lot more than four walls and weekend television.’
He watched her without expression and nodded again.
That was all she could take.
‘I don’t get it. You are purported to be this great communicator. One-time Australian Businessman of the Year, who can change any person’s mind with the use of nothing but his verbal skills. A man who can charm women out of their…inhibitions. Yet I can still barely get you to string two words together.’
Adam chewed, and chewed, and chewed, and then swallowed. ‘I had a mouthful of food,’ he finally said.
Cara was sure she heard a hint of cheekiness in his voice, but by the time she looked at him through narrowed eyes he had already tucked into his next mouthful. Since clenching her hands would only mean that the contents of her roll would end up on her lap, she had to settle for clenching her toes in her sneakers.
Cara took another mouthful herself and was careful to swallow just before he did.
‘That has not been the reason in the past,’ she persisted.
He continued to chew several times before swallowing his food. ‘If all a question requires is a yes or a no answer, that’s all you’re going to get from me.’
‘It’s really frustrating.’
Adam laughed. ‘OK, then. What would you like to talk about?’
Cara opened her mouth but had nothing in particular to say.
‘Come on. You ask, I’ll answer. This is your big chance to partake of my renowned “verbal skills”.’
His last words came to her almost as a purr and Cara racked her brain for something to say but her mind was rendered blank. The longer she struggled, the bigger Adam’s smile became, until slowly, slowly he raised his roll to his mouth as a sign that her time was running out.
‘So why telecommunications?’ she finally blurted, the relief she felt ridiculous.
But Adam, as promised, lowered his roll and talked.
‘That was all Chris. We went to uni together. He was the studious guy with his head always in a pile of books. I was the party guy at uni, my majors being girls and beer.’
Cara felt a funny kick in her stomach. It felt a heck of a lot like a jealous stab, which was insane. She continued eating while he talked in case it was merely hunger making her tummy feel so tight.
‘But we were always friendly,’ Adam continued. ‘He even got me my first real job, selling mobile phones and accessories in his uncle’s store on nights and weekends.’
She couldn’t quite picture him working in a shopping centre hocking mobile-phone contracts to innocent passers-by. Though she had the feeling that if he took it upon himself to try, he could do it without breaking a sweat. Any woman caught in that resolute blue gaze would be locked in until he chose to let her loose.
But as far as she could tell he had chosen to let them loose every time thus far. At that thought, her tummy problems eased considerably.
‘My way through college was already covered so I didn’t need the job, but Chris insisted that it would be good for me, and he was right. Unless you have worked your butt off for under ten dollars an hour, there is no way you can create sellable products for people in exactly that socioeconomic bracket.’
‘Born with a silver spoon in your mouth?’ Cara asked, already knowing the answer but aware of a need to know how he felt about the fact.
‘Diamond-encrusted platinum, actually,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘And you?’
‘A wooden spoon, I’m afraid.’ And at least one foot.
Adam blinked, sudden humour lurking deep beneath his dark blue eyes. ‘And who is your mobile phone carrier?’ he asked.
‘You guessed it. Revolution Wireless,’ Cara admitted.
‘You are my bread and butter,’ he said with a charming smile.
And the smile did it. Though he was just highlighting the fact that she was struggling and he was stratospherically wealthy because of people like her, his smile still made her toes unclench and her tummy flip over on itself. Her tummy needed a good talking to!
Cara managed to stop herself from snapping at him that she already had one of his bloody phones and he didn’t need to sweet-talk her into making him more money. But she did say, ‘I’ll have you know I earn more than ten dollars an hour, buddy.’
He held up his hands in submission, his charming smile breaking into outright laughter. ‘And I’m sure you’re worth every cent.’
Cara could not help but smile either. So he was rich. She wasn’t. There was no point in arguing the fact. It was empirical. Unchangeable. And such a nasty thing to get worked up over. She of all people should remember that.
‘One day after work,’ Adam continued, ‘Chris approached me. He told me he had a business plan and only with the two of us working together could it be achieved. And I was hooked.’
‘What was his plan?’
Adam smiled. ‘It was fairly detailed and I dozed off through half of it, but when he hit the point about b
ecoming a millionaire on my own by the age of twenty-five, I shut up and listened. He had me. He says that I’m the salesman of the crew, but he sure knew what would hook me that day.’
Abba had it figured out long ago. ‘Money, money, money’—everything came down to money. But who was she to argue? The thought of living comfortably took up most of her waking moments, so why shouldn’t Adam be the same? Her dad always said money made the world go around and he was right. Even if on the flipside it could turn people against each other, and make them bitter and cynical into the bargain.
Cara bit into her roll to show that the conversation was over. She could feel Adam watching her but she’d said and heard enough to think maybe she shouldn’t have demanded so much information from him in the first place.
They sat for several long moments in conjoined silence. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Cara tried hard to focus on watching the sunshine send dappled shadows through the leaves of the big old gum tree and listening to the crickets singing in the nearby underbrush.
Then finally Adam spoke. ‘Was that what you were after?’
Cara sent him a sideways glance accompanied by a hasty nod. But he wasn’t finished.
‘Or were you hoping I might try to charm you out of your inhibitions?’
Cara swallowed too fast, and coughed and spluttered in response. She shot to her feet as gracefully as she could, her eyes searching wildly for an escape route.
‘Looks like the game’s about to begin again. So…see you there.’
And then she strode away as fast as her sneakers would carry her.
The rest of the game went pretty much the same. Though the hotel guys made a brief comeback in the next-to-last innings, the TV Team won easily: ten runs to three.
Everyone hopped back in the hotel bus in high spirits. Cara was the last one inside and the only spare seat was across the aisle from Adam.
She gave him a short smile before sitting down. Although she was well aware of every rise and fall of his chest, every flicker of his eyelids, every shuffle of his large frame in the small seat, she still got a fright when his hand landed upon her knee.