The Ace

by Rhonda Shaw

  Jerry gave her an amused look before he leaned down to set up his putt. “I’m sensing a home field advantage here.”

  “Whatever. That’s just an excuse.”

  He grinned as he took a small swing and repeated what he’d seen her do, with the same results. Standing up, he shrugged. “Looks like we’re tied.”

  “Not for long,” she said as she walked over to the next hole. Noticing he was no longer directly behind her, Karen looked around and found him in the middle of a group of people asking for his autograph.

  He glanced up and as he signed someone’s scorecard, he called out, “No cheating. I’m watching.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled.

  They continued throughout the course with her in the lead before he overtook her near the end. Karen wasn’t sure how he remained focused on her and the game while being constantly interrupted by requests for autographs or photos. She was impressed, though, at his tolerance level. Never once did she feel like Jerry was ignoring her nor did he seem put out by the constant intrusion on his privacy. Through it all, she was surprised to find how much fun she was having despite feeling as if she was in some spotlight that directed everyone’s attention to Jerry.

  He caught up with her on the seventeenth green after signing more autographs and eyed her ball, which sat snug against one of the outer walls a foot away from the hole. “What? No hole in one? You’re losing it, Karen.”

  “I’ll make par, don’t you worry.”

  “Well, I’m not so much worried that you’ll make par,” he explained as he angled his club toward the cup. “What I am worried about is that I’ll put the lead out of your reach with this one putt.”

  He tapped the ball and they watched as it rolled down the hill, in between the two cannons, and back up the small hill surrounding the cup before sinking down into it.

  “Oh, no!” Jerry said as he raised his hands in the air with a huge grin on his face. “Oh, no. I didn’t just do that!”

  Karen laughed despite herself. “Shut up, you ass. That was just a lucky shot. I can still make it up.”

  “Karen that was the second to last hole. You’re down by two. Just admit it, you lost.”

  “Oh, well,” she said as she drained her putt. “I guess that means you get a chauffeur for a while.”

  “I don’t recall agreeing to your ridiculous wager,” Jerry said as he bent down to pick up their balls.

  “Well, you didn’t come up with anything better and it’s too late to shake on something else.”

  He leaned on his club and raised one brow at her. “How about we wager something on this last hole?”

  “What now?”

  Jerry’s eyes slowly trailed down her suit to the pink toenails peeking out of her cream-colored pumps and swept back up, causing her skin to tingle in their wake. With a devilish look, he let his gaze linger on her lips before he leaned down so he was mere inches away from kissing her. Her breath caught in her throat from the anticipation as her heart did a lazy roll in her chest. “If you win, I’ll buy you an ice cream. If I win, you’ll buy me an ice cream,” he finally said.

  Her brows shot up in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s what you came up with? Ice cream?”

  “I can do better,” he said with a smirk.

  “I’m sure you can,” Karen muttered. She was nearly tempted to ask him to please do so, but if he could resist jumping right to it, then so could she. She stepped next to him and stuck out her hand for him to shake. “We’ll go with your pathetic wager.”

  He grinned as he squeezed her hand. “Ladies first.”

  “Oh, now it’s ladies first,” she said dryly as she lined up her shot. “All I heard before was you bitching about home field advantage.”

  “Just hit the ball,” he said.

  She put just the right amount of torque behind her swing and was pleased to see her ball spin around the lip and drop into the cup, disappearing into the treasure chest. Karen backed away with a smug look.

  He stepped up and did the same thing, but he’d hit the ball too lightly and it rolled to a stop at the top of the cylinder. “What? Oh, come on!”

  She strutted toward the stand to return her club. “I like vanilla with sprinkles, please.”

  * * *

  “It really isn’t fair, considering I actually won the game,” Jerry was saying as he took a bite of his hot fudge sundae.

  They were sitting at one of the small tables in front of the ice cream parlor next to the miniature golf course. A group of people lingered at a neighboring table and more than once, Karen caught them throwing quick, furtive glances at Jerry. It seemed everywhere he went he was recognized. She wondered how being the center of attention didn’t get on his nerves, but he appeared to not even notice.

  “Whatever,” she said as she spooned out some vanilla ice cream covered with red, white and blue sprinkles. “It was your pathetic bet in the first place.”

  “Well, I had to come up with something on the fly since you’d botched the original one.”

  “I didn’t botch anything. You just wimped out from agreeing to it.”

  He smiled and his dimple winked at her. “For some reason, it felt a little one—sided. Besides, I’m not sure how the team would feel if I told them we had to win the pennant because you won a putt-putt game.”

  “Sounds like good motivation to me.”

  “I can think of other means of motivation.”

  Karen glanced at him before rolling her eyes and returning her attention to her ice cream. “I’m sure you can. Speaking of that.” She looked at him and bit her lower lip. “Why didn’t you go there with the bets?”

  “What, am I twelve?” Jerry asked as he shook his head and scraped up remnants of hot fudge with his spoon. “I don’t need a bet to get what I want.”

  She sat up straight, somewhat startled, but also stirred up by his sheer confidence. “Wow. You are cocky, aren’t you?”

  “Not cocky. I just don’t need a bet.”

  “Really? And what makes you so sure?”

  “I’m observant, remember?” Jerry said as he leaned in a little closer.

  She did remember and that made her nervous. What tricks did he have up his sleeve? If their kiss was any indication as to what was to come, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he was going to blow her socks off without much effort. And she couldn’t wait...especially since she had a few surprises of her own for him. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she imagined what waited for her as the night progressed.

  “Hmmm,” she said as she pretended to inspect her ice cream. “Does it bother you? Getting all this attention when you go out?” she asked, wanting to change the subject since the anticipation was just about killing her.

  Jerry pursed his lips as he considered her question. “Does it bother me? No, I guess I’m used to it and it comes with the territory. I can’t exactly tell them to go away. Well, I could, but I don’t want to be that guy.”

  “So you just deal with it in order to appear as a nice guy?”

  “Are you saying I’m not a nice guy?” he asked and looked a little put off. “That I’m only faking being nice when I agree to sign an autograph or pose in a picture?”

  “Well, no...” she said, as she thought it over. Karen was shocked to realize that she had presumed a dark side to his personality, that he just tolerated the attention he got. It hadn’t occurred to her that he was genuinely the approachable guy he appeared to be in the public eye, that every once in a while he wasn’t thinking negative thoughts to himself and wishing everyone would go away. It was sad that she always assumed the worst of any guy because of the idiots in her past. “That just seems like a lot to deal with. Do you ever get downtime?”

  “When I’m home or behind closed doors somewhere.” Jerry dropped his white plastic spoon
into the dish and gave her a look that said he was okay with it. “It’s a small price to pay for being able to live my dream.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  “It’s just the way it is. I can’t change it. It is often much harder on the people who are closest to you.”

  “I can believe that. It was, and still is, a hard transition for Maddie.”

  “You too,” he said quietly.

  “Me too?” she asked with a frown.

  “Back at the restaurant, you didn’t like how they were looking at you.”

  “Well, they were staring...I mean, they didn’t have to be so obvious...” Karen broke off when he gave her a knowing look that said she was proving his point. She slouched down as she let out a breath. “Fine. It was weird.”

  “It just takes getting used to. Some people can be obnoxious, don’t get me wrong, but for the most part, all they want is a simple autograph or a picture, maybe a few words and then they’ll leave you alone. Your friends and family just have to learn to live with some interruptions here and there.”

  “Huh, it’s a different lifestyle, that’s for sure. I mean, no one wants my autograph for being an awesome real estate agent.”

  Jerry laughed as he stood up and tossed his garbage into the trash. “It’s their loss.” Turning back, he held out his hand to her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  Finally, Karen thought with a rush of excitement.

  They strolled back toward the restaurant hand in hand, which again just felt right even though she tried not to dwell on it too much.

  “So, what you said about all the extra attention, that it was weird,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think you can get past it?” Jerry stopped and turned toward her. “Because, you have to know...I’m not trying to inflate my ego or anything, but hanging out with me, it’s going to be like that. I can’t change it.”

  “But,” she said as she shook her head. “I guess I don’t see how it matters. No strings, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we won’t go out every once in a while. I can’t have you going off on people like you were about to at the restaurant.”

  “I was not...” Karen started to protest, but cut herself off when she saw his look of doubt. “Okay, fine. I wouldn’t have caused that big of a scene.”

  Jerry nodded as he turned them and they continued down the sidewalk. “How about if you feel the need to make some snide remark, just say it to me, okay?”

  She laughed. “Okay, I think I can do that.”

  He squeezed her hands in his. “I had fun tonight. Did you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  He smiled at her as he opened the Porsche’s door for her and waited for her to settle in before closing it. Climbing in and putting the car in gear, Jerry pulled out of the parking lot and they drove in silence toward the real estate office where they’d dropped off her Honda. He parked next to it, but neither of them moved, not wanting to depart each other’s company just yet.

  Jerry pulled out his phone and moaned when he looked at his calendar. “I totally forgot about the engagement party next week.”

  “Maddie would have your head if you didn’t show up to that.”

  “I’m assuming I’ve got to dress up and stuff, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are you wearing?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure it will be devastatingly hot and sexy.”

  “And you said I was cocky.” Jerry laughed. “As much as it scares me to say this, I think you and I are more alike than we realize.”

  “Scares you? It terrifies me that I could have anything in common with Smutty.”

  He reclined back in his seat as he considered it. “Oh, I don’t know that it’s that bad. I mean, we’re two very good-looking people who have outstanding personalities. How can you go wrong with that?”

  “True,” Karen agreed. “It’s not our fault if everyone else is dull and boring.”

  “Exactly,” he said. They looked at each other and started laughing. When they both quieted down, Jerry reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips. Karen could feel their softness and the heat from them made her shudder. He trapped her in his gaze; his eyes were deep, full of warmth, the color of a well-aged, rich whiskey. “I’m serious, though. I had a really good time tonight.”

  His low, husky voice made goose bumps break out. “I did too. Thank you.”

  “We’ll have to do better with the betting next time.”

  She grinned. “I don’t know, I thought mine was pretty good.”

  “Karen,” he said, as he leaned forward so his face was just inches from hers. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, as she waited, totally expecting him to pull her in for a smoldering kiss. “You’re never getting your hands on my car.”

  She shoved his shoulders with a grin. “You’re a jerk.”

  Jerry laughed and sat back. “No, I’m just smart. God knows what state I’d find this baby in after being in your hands.”

  “I had to try.”

  “And a nice try it was,” he said. “I’m glad that you’re on board with our agreement.”

  “Are you now?”

  “Yeah, because I can’t wait to get my hands on you.”

  Karen cleared her throat. It was amazing how he could go from fun and carefree to all hot and sexy in a matter of seconds. Her head felt like a whirlwind and since her pulse was always out of whack whenever she was around him, she was surprised that she hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest yet.

  “I’ll see you next week at the shindig,” Jerry said, smoothly switching back to his friendly demeanor.

  Karen hesitated a second, confused and frustrated, but then shook her head. “Yep, you will,” she said as she reached for the door handle, trying not to be disappointed that he hadn’t put his hands on her that second if he was so looking forward to it. She wanted to scream, “What are you waiting for!” but she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to appear desperate. Two could play the game.

  Jerry tugged on the hand that he still held and she slowly turned back toward him with renewed hope. He leaned forward and paused for a second before closing the gap between them and giving her a soft, tender kiss on her cheek.

  “Good night, Karen.”

  “Good night, Smutty.”

  “Pookie,” he corrected.

  Karen sighed, realizing the night was indeed going to come to an end. “What’s with you and that damn name? I should have never said it.”

  “I like it.”

  She rolled her eyes as she opened the door and climbed out. Before she shut it, she leaned back in and smiled. “Drive safe, Pookie.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jerry sat on the long wooden bench that lined the back wall of the dugout during one of the rare night games they had at the beginning of the season. The air was cold and brisk, still trying to rid itself of the sharpness of a Michigan winter and ease into a warm pleasant summer. It was often a bumpy ride through the transition—almost hot one day, cool the next, with spring bypassed altogether.

  Hunched down with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and another jacket layered over it, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he bounced his legs, unable to sit still, and eyed the portable heater at the opposite end of the dugout. He could easily get up and walk down there, but he stayed where he was, too cold to move.

  He hated this part of the year. While he was excited to start each season, the night games early on were usually bitterly cold, which was why there were thankfully only a few scheduled. He couldn’t believe that just a couple of nights ago it had been warm enough for him and Karen to play miniature golf. Next week, the team would take off f
or their annual long road trip out west and he couldn’t wait. At least they would see some sunshine and have consistent warmer temperatures.

  Jerry was glad he wasn’t pitching tonight. The cold made it that much harder to get comfortable and feel loose on the mound, and although it made him cringe to admit it, he still wasn’t feeling like himself. It was early enough yet in the season that he didn’t want to panic and sometimes it took a start or two under your belt before things really started to flow, but for some reason, it was taking him longer to get there, to feel “right” this year.

  After his start on Opening Day, when he’d felt in command of all his pitches once he’d worked through some minor rustiness, Jerry now felt like he’d taken a few steps backward. He felt awkward and disjointed, like something just wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly, and that bothered him more than anything. It would be easy to blame it on the cold or a change in the angle from which he threw, but it wasn’t any of that.

  He was trying not to fret about it, despite the fact that it wasn’t going unnoticed. A couple of reporters had mentioned it in interviews, and there’d been some speculation by the press about the reasons behind his struggles. He’d managed to convince them everything was okay, that there was nothing to worry about. He was the Ace and hadn’t gotten that title by not evolving as a pitcher...all he had to do was keep reminding himself of that fact.

  It’d only been a few games where’d he felt out of sorts, and he’d managed to actually squeak out a couple of wins, so he’d push it to the back of his mind and hope that whatever it was corrected itself. Jerry knew based on past experience as well as advice from coaches earlier in his career that dwelling on it made it worse, so he would continue to act like everything was status quo. No issues here. Everything was just fine.

  He would get things going, he had no doubt about that, but it had to be sooner rather than later. After signing the long-term contract, he now had to prove his worth. He knew that, but he also couldn’t let it overwhelm him. He had to put it out of his mind, as best as he could, ignore the pressure and continue going about his business as he always had—regardless of what he was paid. More money didn’t change anything. But even with that, this was not the year to start breaking down, whatever the reasons might be, and he had to get his shit together.