It wasn’t that Kyle didn’t appreciate the fans who filled the seats and helped pay his hefty salary. He definitely did. But he could do without the hangers-on who wanted a taste of fame, fortune and whichever ballplayer would toss some kind of interest their way. He used to revel in that kind of attention and indulged in whatever the willing females had to offer.
No longer.
He hadn’t been that desperate—or interested—in a while. Restless and edgy described him a lot better. Not that he knew why, when he’d achieved his dream. Lessons learned were often painful. Back in the days when he’d been a staple at the bar scene, running far from memories and himself, he’d had something to prove. He’d taken his aggression out on the mound and the players at the plate. Off the field, he’d dared anyone else to try to mess with him, shoving his up-and-coming star status in everyone’s face.
He’d always known he was more talented than the average ballplayer and that he’d have to work his way out of the gutter in which he’d been born. A lucky break got him noticed by a pastor at Westminster Academy, who’d wrangled him a scholarship to the school. That’s where he’d met Julia Caldwell. But after she’d wished him luck in the minors and kissed him goodbye, he’d lost his focus. After one drink and one fight too many, Kyle had ended up behind bars. His mentor in the minors bailed him out, sobered him up and shoved his face in the mirror, forcing him to realize the path to success wasn’t strewn with alcohol and bimbos.
Kyle shook his head and shoved his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose. There was no reason those days should’ve come back to him now. He’d behaved and worked hard ever since, and he was finally living his dream as the marquee player of Miami’s newest expansion team.
He swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked through the stadium doors, waving to the security guard as he passed.
Before he could turn down the long corridor leading to the locker room, a familiar female voice called to him. “Hansen, I need a word!”
He cringed at the commanding tone. Macy Kroger, the Suns’ publicist, had a stronger voice than any man he knew and an iron will. When she wanted something from someone, she usually got it.
As the captain and face of the team, Kyle went out of his way to play nice with Macy, but he had one rule he expected her to obey.
“Business after the game, not before,” he called over his shoulder as a reminder. Whether or not he was pitching, he demanded his concentration be on the game.
Macy’s stilettos clicked as she ran down the hall, catching up with him just as he rounded the corner. “Kyle, wait.”
He turned to face her. “What?”
She’d tucked a pen behind her ear, and her fiery-red hair fell over her shoulders, but to her credit she wasn’t winded from her sprint down the hall.
Macy was about thirty, tough as nails and as gorgeous as they came. The Suns’ owners had lured her away from their crosstown rivals with the promise of a six-figure salary and complete access to the players, which she needed to make her job a success.
“What’s so important that it can’t wait?” he asked.
“A mission of mercy.” She pulled out a folder and began to read him sad statistics on single parents and the effect of catastrophic illness on families, along with a host of other issues he was way too familiar with.
Once again, thoughts of Julia tried to come flooding back.
He glanced at his gold watch and tapped the face. “Get to the point,” he told Macy. “Game’s in three hours.”
She shot him a smirk. “Fine. Twin brothers. One has leukemia. The other doesn’t. Healthy twin could use a mentor of sorts.”
Kyle’s gut tightened at the word leukemia and the notion that it was the other sibling who needed help. Julia had once been that other sibling. Back when they’d met, he’d needed her to tutor him in Spanish. She’d just plain needed attention and he’d been only too happy to provide it. His days with Julia represented a time in his life he didn’t like to revisit. She’d hurt him badly and he hated going down that road. Too many what-ifs and could-have-beens.
So, as he always did when random thoughts of Julia arose, he squelched them. “Put Ryder on it,” Kyle told the publicist. “He could use some exposure and I’ve seen him with the manager’s kids. He’s your guy.”
In the year since Macy had been on the job, she’d made stars of their rookies and garnered the team a reputation for charitable good deeds. Children were the Suns’ most passionate cause. Ryder would make a great mentor for the kid.
“I wasn’t asking for suggestions. I already have my man.” Macy met his gaze with a determined one of her own and stepped closer.
That was Macy—she talked in circles until he finally understood her point. Which was usually a good one.
“Let me backtrack so you’ll have a clear picture,” she said, unaware of his thoughts. “Dave Granderson’s new wife has a teenage daughter from a previous marriage. The daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor two years ago, when the current Mrs. Granderson was a single parent. Are you with me so far?”
Granderson was the team’s co-owner, and if he was involved with this request, Kyle understood why it would be given top priority. “Go on.”
“The hospital that treated her daughter, Caridad del Cobre Children’s Hospital, referred Mrs. Granderson to the Andre Sobel River of Life Foundation, ASRL for short. ASRL stepped in and made sure her rent and electric bill were paid, they put food on the table when she couldn’t work because she was by her daughter’s bedside. In short, Mrs. Granderson would do anything for ASRL.”
“Understandable,” Kyle said. Forget that the order came from ownership. He respected what ASRL did for single-parent families. He’d only suggested Ryder to avoid old memories, but if he was the best man for the job, so be it.
“You don’t need the hard sell,” he told Macy. “I’ll meet the kid.”
She smiled in obvious relief. “Good. Because Michael Cortez, the boy whose twin is dying, idolizes you. ASRL told the hospital’s social worker to contact Mrs. Granderson, who in turn promised you’d be happy to get together with him.”
He nodded. “Now that I’ve agreed, we can talk details after the game.” He turned toward the locker room.
Macy stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Not so fast. You need to take a meeting. Now.”
“With who?”
“The social worker in charge of coordinating your meeting with the boy. She’s waiting for you in my office.”
Kyle shook his head in frustration. “Seriously. Doesn’t business after the game mean anything to you?”
Macy smiled. “Well, normally I insist anyone who wants to meet with my players abide by my rules, but this woman said she knew you.”
“Does she have a name?” Even as he asked, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and every nerve ending in his body prickled with unease.
“Julia Caldwell.”
The name hit him like a fastball to the head. No wonder he’d thought of her earlier. Call it premonition or just a plain old gut feeling, somehow he’d sensed her presence.
“You can find her in my office, but I’ll give you some time alone first,” Macy said. “You look like you need it.”
She turned and walked away, leaving him to digest her news.
Julia Caldwell had come back. For business, not for him. Man, she had a knack for bruising his ego, he thought as he strode down the hall toward Macy’s private office.
He passed life-size photographs of the Suns’ current roster lining the walls of the stadium, including one of number 22—Kyle Hansen, Team Captain captioned beneath. But not even the reminder that he was no longer the kid with one pair of jeans and just a minor-league contract to his name helped make Kyle feel like the superstar he’d become. The prospect of seeing Julia again had brought him back in time and he didn’t like it one bit.
Kyle paused outside the wooden door to Macy’s office to regroup. Julia needed something from him, which meant he
was the one in control this time. Even if ownership insisted he fulfill her request, he could at least act as if he had the upper hand. That meant not letting her know she still held any power over him or his emotions.
And maybe she didn’t.
He rotated his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. Almost a decade had passed and a lot of things had changed. For all he knew, there’d be no attraction left between them at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Julia waited for Kyle in the team publicist’s luxurious office. The plush carpet and mahogany furniture reminded her of her father’s office in her childhood home. A place that had been her sanctuary, where she’d do her homework and hang out with her father, until Meghan’s illness had altered everyone’s world. There were times she’d resented the hell out of her little sister for being sick. These days, she wished she had a sister to resent. That’s why she was here. So Michael Cortez would have fewer days to look back on and feel guilty about. So he’d have some joy during this painful time.
Nobody had seen to Julia’s happiness. At least, not until Kyle entered her life. She stopped pacing and admired the team photos on the wall in Macy’s office, capturing the individual players in various stages of public-relations activities. She leaned in for a closer look. A picture showed Kyle and a group of teenage boys in junior Suns uniforms smiling at each other, seemingly unaware of the camera. Kyle’s smile was wide and genuine as he gripped the ball and hung out with the kids. That he already worked with teens eased her mind. Convincing him to meet and coach Michael Cortez might not be difficult after all.
She’d kept up with Kyle’s stats and watched the games. She couldn’t help but read the columns featuring the Suns’ star player and the rumors about which lucky woman would land the wealthy eligible bachelor. He was never linked to just one woman, nor was he a purported player. He appeared to be a man who kept his private life out of the papers as best he could, allowing the gossips to speculate.
Even Julia wondered whether there was a special woman in his life. In fact, he was so private, this photo was the first time she’d seen him in what looked like an unguarded moment. He was relaxed and at ease, and she almost didn’t recognize the intense, bad-boy teenager she remembered.
“See something you like?” a familiar male voice asked.
She jumped and turned at the sound of that deep voice. She hadn’t even heard the door open.
She met his steady gaze, immediately struck by how large a presence he’d become. “I was just…killing time until you got here. I mean, looking at pictures while I waited.” Nerves had her rambling.
She clamped her mouth shut and drew a deep breath. She’d dreamed of this moment over the years. She’d had more than twenty-four hours to get used to the idea of facing him.
But she was completely unprepared now. She dragged in another breath. “Hi, Kyle. It’s good to see you again.” She felt much more composed.
On the outside.
Inside, her stomach was churning like crazy.
He eyed her steadily, singeing her with the intensity of his blue-eyed stare.
“Julia.” His voice was lower, more masculine.
Warmth seeped through her veins and suddenly she knew. This was what had been missing with every man she’d encountered over the last nine—almost ten—years. No one had ever made her feel as alive and aware, as important, with just a simple look.
But there was nothing simple about Kyle Hansen. There never had been.
“So.” He inclined his head, his gaze unapologetically raking over her. “You look good.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “So do you.”
He was taller, if possible, his shoulders broader. His sandy-blond hair brushed his forehead and hung longer in the back. Even high-definition television hadn’t done the man justice. He was beyond handsome.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” She attempted to keep things to the point and professional—the only way she’d survive the meeting.
He stared her down. “I would have met with you, Julia. You didn’t have to go through formal channels.”
She shrugged, unsure if she believed him. “I wasn’t so certain.”
A flash of something akin to hurt crossed his face, but the brief look was gone too quickly for her to analyze.
“Even if I wanted to, do you think it’s easy to find you?” she asked. “Unlisted number, guards at the stadium and I have no idea where you live now—” She ticked off the list on her fingers.
“Star Island.” Kyle couldn’t believe he’d blurted out the private, secluded location.
Julia’s big brown eyes widened in surprise. “Nice area,” she murmured.
“You have a place nearby?”
She let out a laugh, an easy, free sound that took him back to the first time he’d heard it, sitting in the library, Spanish book open between them.
Their teacher, Señor Fuentes, had recruited Julia to bring up Kyle’s grades. Kyle had agreed only to ensure his enrolment at the private school and his position on the team. He thought working with the uptight brainiac would be torture. He’d cracked a bad joke to ease the tension and then she’d laughed. The librarian had threatened to throw them out if they weren’t quiet. Julia had met his gaze, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, and giggled once more. And Kyle had been instantly hooked on his new tutor.
He forced his mind back to the present. “What’s so amusing?”
She cocked her head to one side. “Not amusing as much as ironic. I couldn’t afford Star Island in three lifetimes. Social workers aren’t as well paid as major-league ballplayers.”
“In other words, our positions have changed,” he said, unable to suppress a grin.
She inclined her head in a nod. “I bet that’s something you never imagined would happen.”
“Can’t say that I did.” When he’d dreamed about baseball, his focus was the game, not the fame or fortune success might bring.
Julia had always understood that for him, playing baseball was about the game…and the escape he found only on the field. She’d been able to look beyond the surface and really get him. That obviously hadn’t changed.
Neither had the instant attraction he’d experienced all those years ago. Being in the same breathing space with her got his adrenaline pumping, and his body came alive with yearning. He looked her over again, noticing how achingly familiar she was. Her light brown hair had the same streaks of gold and she still preferred a ponytail to any sort of elaborate time-consuming style. Even her brown eyes still provided a wide-open window to her compassionate soul.
But there were changes, too. Beneath the black slacks and simple peach blouse, her curves were more womanly, her face more expressive with the passage of time and those beautiful eyes held a lifetime of knowledge—and sadness, he was forced to acknowledge.
He wasn’t surprised she’d become a social worker. Caring for others was a part of her nature.
“Look, I know this is awkward,” she said into the silence. “So I’ll explain why I’m here and then you can get back to playing ball.” She gestured toward the field, visible through the large plate-glass windows behind them.
Oddly, he was in no hurry to leave. “Macy already gave me a summary. She said there’s a child at the hospital you want me to meet?”
She nodded. “Michael Cortez is fourteen years old. He’s obsessed with baseball and he idolizes you. He wears your jersey, brings in magazines with you on the cover, doesn’t miss a game on TV and he’s constantly tossing a ball in his mitt.” Julia’s eyes misted a bit. “Like it’s a distraction from what’s really going on in his life.”
“His brother’s leukemia.” Kyle said the word before she had to.
Julia nodded. “Exactly.”
His chest hurt as her past settled over him. “How is your sister?” He forced himself to ask the difficult but necessary question.
Julia glanced away, but not before he caught sight of her damp gaze, he
r long lashes suddenly fringed with moisture. “Meghan died a few months after you left.”
“I’m so sorry.” For more than her sister’s passing, he thought as he forced the words past the lump in his throat. Although Julia’s family had always held on to hope, the prognosis had never been good.
Guilt and pain sucker punched him hard. When Julia had refused to come with him for his stint in the minors, he hadn’t been able to leave town fast enough. He’d deliberately not kept in touch, wanting to distance himself from the pain she’d caused him, never once thinking of her.
“I didn’t know.” The words sounded as inadequate as he knew the feeble excuse to be.
“There’s no way you could have.” Her voice sounded accepting and resigned, as if she hadn’t expected any more of him.
And that stung.
She turned and walked to the wall of photographs she’d been checking out when he came in.
He let her go, needing time to regroup, figuring she felt the same way.
While she studied the pictures, Kyle took a long hard look back. He hadn’t spoken to anyone from his childhood in years, and for good reason, but he should have somehow kept up with Julia.
He hadn’t because there were times when longing for her had nearly suffocated him, so he’d ruthlessly pushed aside those feelings. He hadn’t wanted to think about her. Hadn’t looked beyond himself and his own pain.
As the kid of an alcoholic father and a mother who’d run off before he turned five, Kyle had had his hands full making sure he and his father had food on the table, juggling baseball practices and keeping his grades high enough to be allowed to play. In between, he worried about dragging the old man to bed after one of his binges, and trying to get him up in the morning on the odd days when he held down a job.
More Than Words, Volume 7 Page 2