Worth the Trade (More Than A Game)

by Kristina Mathews

  That confidence carried him through the first game of the road trip. He went two for three with a single, a double and a sacrifice, knocking in two runs in their win. Not bad, considering his heart was still in San Francisco.

  After the game, he went to the hotel bar, trying to keep from calling her. To keep from missing her to the point of losing the concentration he’d finally recovered.

  Bryce snuck up on him and patted him on the back.

  “Buy you a beer?” he asked, but his offer lacked his usual enthusiasm.

  “Sure.” Bryce had been responsible for one of the other runs of the game, a solo home run to tack on to their lead in the ninth.

  “Good game.” Marco waited until their beers had been delivered before hitting the small talk. They both knew that Los Angeles had won their game tonight as well. The race was tight. The Goliaths were just two games out of first place. Their five game winning streak kept them alive while L.A. had won six of their last seven games.

  “Yeah. We’re still in it. Let’s just hope we don’t lose any ground before we have to face them in their yard.” Bryce was usually the most upbeat player on the team. The rah-rah guy, who could spin just about anything into something positive. But he wasn’t his usual cheerful self, tonight.

  “All we can do is play our game. Put ourselves in a position to be in the race come September.” Marco knew there was a fine line between taking a realistic look at their chances and jinxing the whole damn thing. He wasn’t about to screw things up by getting too cocky. But he needed to maintain a certain level of confidence. And make sure his teammates felt it too.

  “So, it seems you’ve been able to elevate your game a little in the last few days.” Bryce took a long pull on his lager. “You getting laid or something?”

  The way he said it, and the way he avoided eye contact made Marco wonder if the other man was fishing for information. More information than Marco was willing to share.

  “Not tonight, that’s for sure.” Marco tried to make a joke out of it. “I mean, you’re the best prospect I’ve seen all night.”

  Bryce laughed, but he didn’t really mean it.

  “Just tell me the truth.” He looked Marco straight in the eye. “Have you slept with Rachel Parker?”

  Who?

  It took a minute for Marco to remember who Bryce was talking about. The reporter. The perky redhead from Bay Area Sports Net who conducted the postgame interviews.

  “No.” Marco shook his head and placed a reassuring hand on his teammate’s shoulder.

  “You can tell me.” Bryce kept his gaze steady, but he was bracing for the worst. “You wouldn’t be the first guy to fall under her spell.”

  “No. I’ve only talked to her on camera.” Marco didn’t envy the man. Not when he seemed so into a woman he didn’t trust.

  “You sure?” Bryce leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar. “There’s got to be some reason for your transformation at the plate.”

  There was. But he wasn’t going to share it with Bryce Baxter or anyone else, not when the reason was their boss.

  “I think I’d remember something like that.” Marco tried to keep his tone light.

  “Sorry man.” Bryce flipped some kind of switch in his head and turned into Mr. Happy-go-lucky all over again. “It’s just that we were supposed to hook up, you know after that game where you broke out of your slump. But then she canceled on me, not long after you left the bar. What was I supposed to think?”

  “Maybe something came up.” Marco was hardly in the position of handing out advice on women. He was only sitting there to avoid calling Hunter and begging her once again to come down there.

  “You sure it wasn’t you?” Bryce shook his head, as if he was disappointed in himself. “I don’t know what my problem is. It’s just that your turnaround came at about the same time she started pulling back.”

  Marco wished he had some sort of wisdom to share with the other man, but he didn’t. Instead, he started worrying about Hunter slipping away from him. He had a feeling he’d be in worse shape than Bryce.

  Two long-legged women walked into the bar, smiled at Marco and Bryce, and took a seat across from them. Close enough to let them know they were interested, but far enough away they could keep their options open.

  “Maybe it’s time I move on.” Bryce swallowed the last of his beer. “What do you think? Want to join me?”

  “Nah. I think I’m going to call it a night after this one.” Marco still had half a glass. “I’ve been in a good rhythm. Don’t want to do anything to get me off my game.”

  “Suit yourself. I think I need to head over there.” Bryce tossed a few bills on the bar for a tip. “They look like they could help me with my hand-eye coordination.”

  He grinned and then strode around the bar with a big, cocky grin on his face. The blonde looked over at Marco, but when Bryce shook his head she shrugged and turned her full attention on the shortstop.

  Marco finished his drink, added to the tip, and headed up to his room. He knew better than to call Hunter. Hearing her voice would tie him up in knots. But he knew he wouldn’t sleep without letting her know he’d been a good boy.

  He cleaned up and got ready for bed. He slipped between the sheets and sent her a text.

  I’m in bed. Alone. Wish you were here.

  He set his phone on the nightstand and tried to close his eyes. Images of Hunter—naked, moving over him, under him—filled his mind, moving him in ways he never expected.

  The phone buzzed and he grabbed it.

  It’ll do you good to miss me. Make you realize what you’ve got.

  Marco propped the pillows behind his head, and leaned back.

  I’ve got one hell of a woman.

  And one hell of an ache.

  Don’t you forget it.

  Don’t you forget me.

  Impossible.

  He could deal with the pain in his groin. It was the one in his chest that was starting to concern him.

  Chapter 9

  “Does the offer for a girls shopping trip still stand?” Hunter had called Annabelle, hoping that the other woman hadn’t merely been trying to be polite the last time they spoke.

  “Of course. I was hoping we could get together soon.” Annabelle’s cheery voice helped Hunter relax a little. She’d never had girlfriends to hang out with. Let alone one who’d been a supermodel.

  “So, I think I need a makeover,” Hunter confessed. She wanted to be the woman Marco thought she was.

  “Are you free this afternoon? Clayton’s taking the girls for a father-daughter day. You know, princess movie, tea party and I’m thinking there will be some playing dress up.”

  “Wow. My father-daughter days consisted of baseball games, hot dogs, and locker rooms full of half-naked jocks.” Hunter smiled at the bittersweet memory. Grief had a way of sneaking up on her at the most unexpected times.

  “Oh my.” Annabelle giggled. “Clayton would never allow our girls around naked athletes. In fact, he didn’t like the idea of having the players and their families over. He’s very protective of our girls.”

  “Maybe he’s protective of you, too.” Hunter remembered his jealousy over Annabelle’s past relationship with Marco. Finally, something she had in common with her business partner. Jealousy was a much easier emotion to deal with than grief.

  “Oh, that’s just an act. He trusts me.” The lightness in her tone slipped. She wasn’t telling the whole truth. “But he’s determined to keep our girls innocent until they’re thirty.”

  “Maybe he should follow my father’s plan, then. I didn’t date until I went off to college.” But Hunter had never felt like she was missing anything, not even prom. The idea of getting so worked up over a dress seemed silly. Until now.

  They made arrangements to meet at Neiman Marcus. They’d start there, grab some lunch, and hopefully improve Hunter’s wardrobe and their friendship in the process.

  “I think we should hit the lingerie department first.�
�� Annabelle grabbed Hunter’s hand like they were a couple of schoolgirls.

  “Actually, that part of my wardrobe is covered.” A blush crept across her cheeks. “It’s what goes over that I need help with.”

  “Oh, really?” Annabelle threaded her arm through Hunter’s. “Who is he? And when do I get to meet him?”

  “We’re keeping a low profile right now.” Maybe this was a bad idea. By inviting Annabelle shopping, Hunter had also invited her into her personal life. The last thing she needed was for her relationship with Marco to become public. She especially couldn’t let Clayton find out about it.

  “Oooh. A secret love affair. How exciting,” Annabelle practically squealed. “And is there a particular occasion we’re dressing you for? A super-secret hot date?”

  “No. No occasion. Just everyday stuff.” Hunter smoothed the front of her suit jacket. She wished the pockets were real, so she had somewhere to put her hands. “Something I can wear to the office, and then over to the ballgame afterward.”

  “And after that?” Annabelle was making way too much of this.

  “Let’s just say I want to soften my appearance, but remain professional.” Hunter hoped she wasn’t asking for too much. “Some of the dinosaurs I work with have a hard enough time with me being a woman in a man’s business. I don’t want to throw it in their faces.”

  Much.

  “Not your husband, of course.” Hunter had almost forgotten who she was talking to.

  “No. He’s not a dinosaur. Just a Neanderthal.” The other woman let out a frustrated sigh. “I want to apologize again for the scene he made at the barbecue. I should have known better than to throw myself at Marco like that. Clayton would have flipped out if I’d greeted my cousin that way. But a former lover? What was I thinking?”

  That Marco Santiago was hot? That she wished she’d never let him go?

  “See, that’s another reason I’m glad you called. I want to be more involved with the team. Not that I want to be involved with any of the players, of course.” Annabelle laughed, her cheeks coloring. “But I think if I showed more of an interest in my husband’s business, well…” Her voice trailed off with some unspoken disappointment.

  Hunter wondered what she could offer to the conversation. She’d never been good at small talk. Especially the kind that didn’t revolve around baseball.

  “Do you know much about the game?” Hunter knew plenty of owners, not to mention their wives, who didn’t know the difference between a force and fly out. Let alone the infield fly rule.

  “Oh, I know the basics. You know, there’s a pitcher and a batter. The object of the game is to reach all four bases and score a run. But I get a little confused on what the difference between an earned run and a not-earned run. How do they determine an error and what the heck is the difference between a dinger and a tater? Is there a baseball lingo cheat sheet or something?”

  “The best way to pick it up is to watch the game, listen to it on the radio.”

  “Should I follow a fantasy league?” Annabelle asked on the escalators up to the women’s career wear department. “Clayton spends a lot of time on the Internet checking out different player’s stats.”

  “I guess, but there’s more to a player than just his stats.”

  “Like his abs and lats?” Anabelle gave her a knowing grin.

  “Trust me, after twenty years in the locker room, one well-toned body is pretty much the same as the next.”

  Liar. But she didn’t need to tell the other woman about Marco’s assets. They already had that knowledge in common.

  “Oh, that’s a nice suit.” Hunter tried to change the subject by approaching the mannequin showing a designer suit very similar to the one she was wearing.

  “I thought you wanted to upgrade.” Annabelle dragged her away from her usual section, over to another display. This one a lot more trendy. “How about this?”

  Annabelle fingered the sleeve of an orange blazer.

  “No. Too bright.”

  “You could use a little more color in your wardrobe, though. Let’s keep looking.”

  Two hours later, Hunter sat in the department store’s café, surrounded by shopping bags full of new clothes. She’d updated her black and gray staples with a pale blue blazer and a coordinating blue and ivory silk blouse. She’d traded her boxy jackets for more form-fitting styles and somehow Annabelle had talked her into an electric blue trench coat. She added two pair of dark denim jeans and a few silk T-shirts in basic black, white, and soft pink that she could wear with her suits or jeans.

  “Next stop, the makeup counter,” Annabelle said enthusiastically after they’d paid for their lunch.

  “I think I’ve taken enough of your time.” Hunter wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep up with a fancy makeup routine, anyway.

  “Nonsense. This has been fun. Really.” Annabelle’s eyes shone with sincerity. And maybe a little bit of loneliness. “I’ve enjoyed spending the day with you. Even if you haven’t spilled anything about this mystery man.”

  Hunter’s cheeks flamed. Part of her really wished she could share, but it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe someday, but certainly not during the season, and not with her partner’s wife.

  “You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you?” Annabelle sounded almost giddy. “Are you going to see him tonight?”

  “No. Not tonight. He’s… He’s working. But when I do see him again, I think I would like to look pretty for him.”

  “Oh, you’re gorgeous. The only thing you lack is confidence.” Annabelle shook her head. “Come on, let’s go spend a small fortune on powdered confidence. And a little lipstick.”

  * * * *

  After leading off the second inning with a single to right, Marco didn’t do shit at the plate that night. He kept looking behind the backstop and when he didn’t find Hunter sitting there, scorebook in hand, lace bra hidden beneath her suit jacket, he couldn’t quite get his head back in the game. Not good considering it was only the second game of a six game road trip.

  They lost a close game, putting them two games behind L.A., the team they would face next before heading back to San Francisco to finish the month of August. Then they would hit the road again. It would be his first trip back to St. Louis since the trade. He had to get this figured out before heading back to the town that had embraced him and set him free in less than a season.

  Damn. He missed her. Missed touching her, holding her. He missed the post-workout conversations. When he was naked and satisfied and relaxed, he was more open to hearing how he was dropping his shoulder on his swing, or if he pulled his head on the inside fastball. He wondered if she’d seen the game. Had she caught an error in his mechanics? Or was his problem mental?

  He grabbed a bite to eat from the clubhouse and headed straight to his room. A lot of the guys didn’t feel like going out after a loss. Marco just wanted to go straight to bed. Too bad he was alone.

  He wasn’t going to call her. But he found his fingers pulling up Hunter’s number.

  “Hey.” He closed his eyes, trying to picture what color bra she’d be wearing today. Had she put on the red one? Or the leopard print? Or had she gone back to the white cotton? They all got his heart racing, his blood pumping and his thoughts heading in the opposite direction of where he needed them.

  “Hey yourself.” Her voice was sexier than he remembered.

  “Come down here.” He hadn’t meant to ask her that. He wasn’t desperate. He just wanted her. Desperately.

  “I have work to do.”

  “It’s the weekend. Can’t you take a couple of days off?” He might just have to beg.

  “You’ll be leaving by the time I could get down there.” She had a teasing note in her voice, like maybe she’d consider it.

  “We have an evening game. Five o’clock start. It’s an hour and a half flight.”

  “You really want me to fly down there so we could spend a couple of hours together before your game?”

  “Y
es. Come on, you know I’m worth it,” Marco teased.

  “Oh really?”

  “I miss you.” He stretched out, wishing the bed wasn’t so big. “I wish you were here with me right now.”

  “What would you do if I was?”

  “What wouldn’t I do?” Marco groaned. “I’d like to think I’d have enough restraint to get you up to my room before ravishing you.”

  “Ravishing me?” Her teasing tone got under his skin, right behind the letters of his uniform.

  “Yes. I’d press you against the door. Kissing you breathless before taking you into my arms and carrying you to the bed.”

  “Oh my.” She let out a soft sigh.

  “I’d help you let your hair down, running my fingers through the silky strands. Burying my face in the sweet smell of you.”

  “Marco, please.” Oh, how he loved the way she said those two little words. And all the various ways she said it.

  “And I’d kiss you some more. On the lips. The soft skin behind your ear. Your breasts, belly and…everywhere.”

  “Everywhere?” Her voice caught with apprehension, and arousal.

  “Everywhere. I want to taste all of you. I want to show you pleasure like you’ve never known before.”

  “Why?” she asked simply. “Why me?”

  “Because.” He was on the verge of telling her he was falling for her. Falling hard. But damn it. That wasn’t something he could do over the phone. It wasn’t something he could do even in person. “Because you’re the sexiest, most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

  “I had lunch with Annabelle today.”

  “I guess that’s nice.” Not exactly the direction he wanted the conversation to go.

  “We went shopping. She helped me spruce up my wardrobe.”

  “Really?” He wondered why she was changing the subject. They had been this close to phone sex, but maybe he’d end up more frustrated than before.

  “Yeah. Kind of like one of those makeover things that girls do.”

  “Honey, you don’t need a makeover.” Marco resisted the urge to relieve the pressure in his groin. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”