by Tracy March
“And she thought it might be me?” he asked. It was obvious that Sylvia wanted him and Liza to get together, since she’d bid on the BADD date. But he hadn’t understood why—especially considering how she and John had disappeared from his life.
“I’m not sure. She knew I liked you years ago. But people change.”
Had he changed that much? Sure, he’d become a pro baseball player who looked to all the world as if he didn’t want for anything. But he was still so alone—especially since his grandma died, and Sylvia and John left him. All he really wanted was a simple life with someone who loved him, and all he’d done by acting like a playboy was make sure he didn’t get it.
She swept her hand across her forehead, then tucked her hair behind her ear with a swipe of her delicate fingers. “I’m just really confused.”
“About what?” He hated asking because he already knew the answer. And he knew he was the reason she felt that way.
“We went on a charity auction date,” she said. “I understood that from the start, and I played along. But it had to be awkward for you, wondering which Liza was going to show up from minute to minute.” She shook her head. “I’m just all over the place.”
“It makes sense to me now,” he said. “I wish you would’ve told me.” But if she had, he never would have gotten in this deep with her. He’d have kept going on with his lonesome life and missed that spark of hope that was trying to catch fire in his heart. Hope for a new contract…and hope for something more.
“Then you asked me out again and—”
“You shot me down,” he said lightly.
She gave him a small smile. “I saw the error of my ways.” She glanced at him self-consciously. “But that kiss,” she said. “I haven’t kissed anyone since Wes. Hadn’t even thought about it.”
“I didn’t know,” he said.
Liza shook her head, and a lock of her hair fell over her shoulder and along the deep vee of her sweater. She absently traced her fingers along it, over the swell of her breast, and twisted the end between her fingertips. Cole inhaled sharply. The girl had no idea how sexy she was.
“I just didn’t imagine it would be like…that.” She set her green-eyed gaze on him, and he knew exactly what she meant. “That’s why I’m confused.”
He nodded. “I promise that makes two of us.”
They ate almost all the food, then cleared the table and went inside. The air had gotten prickly-cool, and the breeze had become billowy, bringing in clouds. Cole kept the conversation light, and she seemed to appreciate that. There’d been enough seriousness for one night.
Liza tuned the TV to baseball highlights while they straightened the kitchen. Analysts previewed the Nats game against the Marlins in Miami, where Cole would be tomorrow.
“We could clinch the division title on this trip.” He’d hesitated to say it out loud for fear it might jinx them.
She finished rinsing the dishes, looked him in the eyes, and smiled. “I hope you do.”
He could’ve sworn she meant it.
“What’s on your agenda this week?” he asked.
“Just work and a couple Os games.” She wiped the countertops, leaving the kitchen as gleaming as it was when they’d arrived.
He leaned against the counter and she faced him, her expression bright. “BADD’s expanding the camp program next year, so I’ve got lots of details to work out—budgets and logistics. All that exciting stuff.”
“You seem excited about it.”
“I am. I love that part of my job. Especially since I’ve seen some of the boys who have come through get college scholarships. A couple of really talented guys got drafted. Their stories are just amazing.” She didn’t have to tell Cole that. His story was one of them.
He tucked his chin and lightly skimmed his fingers from her shoulder to her elbow. “You’re amazing.” Boy, Frank would love that line. But Cole realized he meant it.
And that scared the hell out of him.
She blushed quickly beneath those sexy freckles. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said shyly.
Cole knew he shouldn’t risk kissing her again, but he had to know if he’d imagined the fireworks between them last night. He gently put his arm around her, splaying his hand across the small of her back. She gazed at him with questions lingering in her pale-green eyes, her lush lips parted. Pulling her to him, he lightly touched his lips to hers. Soft and supple. Satiny and smooth. Just the feathery wisp of his mouth on hers sent desire pulsing through him.
He worried she would pull away, but she didn’t. She lifted her chin and took his face in her hands, deepening their kiss with the sensuous sweep of her tongue.
Holy… Last night’s kiss began to pale in comparison. Cole twined his fingers in her silky hair, stirring the scent of wildflowers, and cradled her head in his hand.
She clutched the tense muscles along his back. Arching against him, she whimpered, and it might have been the hottest sound he’d ever heard.
The things I could do with this woman…
Could he afford to get involved with her and her grief and her parents? He’d just wanted a new contract. But this kiss could lead places he knew he shouldn’t go…
Get a hold of yourself, man.
She had his blood pumping more than a full-count pitch with the bases loaded and the game on the line. He wasn’t supposed to want her.
He tipped his head back, stared at the ceiling, and tried to get a grip. She pulled away a little, and when he looked at her, she was biting her lip. If he stayed here any longer, he wouldn’t be able to resist her. And that would screw up everything.
“We leave early tomorrow,” he said. “So I’d better go.”
She nodded. “I understand. It’s a big week for you.”
“Will you be watching my games?” he asked, sounding selfish but hoping she’d say yes.
She raised her eyebrows playfully. “Should I?”
“I’m still working on your triple…and stealing home.”
She looked at him demurely. “Then the least I could do is set my DVR.”
Chapter Eleven
Liza sat at her desk at the foundation, glancing between the budget spreadsheet on her computer screen and the rain falling outside in the cozy courtyard behind the foundation’s town house headquarters. A squirrel scurried up one of three ginkgo trees that shaded beds brimming with orange mums. She couldn’t concentrate for thinking about Cole and the time they’d spent together before he left. Her insides tingled when she imagined the softness of his lips on hers, the ripple of his muscles beneath her touch.
A sharp rap on her open office door made her flinch. She turned to see Ross Hinsler, the foundation’s CEO, standing there with a file folder in his hand and a strained-looking smile on his face. Ross was a family man in his mid-forties who stayed fit and young-looking, even though gray had started to lighten his dark hair. Business and baseball savvy, he ran BADD as if he were managing a major league team. He e-mailed everyone quotes about peak performance and achieving excellence, and seemed to hold himself to the same high standards.
“Hey, Liza,” he said. “Got a second?”
It became clear that wasn’t a question when he stepped inside, closed the door to a crack, and sat in the chair adjacent to her desk. Her office was so small that if she swiveled her chair just so, it would put them almost knee-to-knee. She brushed a speck of lint off the lapel of her jacket and kept her chair still. He glanced at her computer screen. “Working on numbers?”
Not a question, either. She nodded anyway. He seemed to be trying hard at being casual, and that made her really nervous. She took a swallow of her stone-cold coffee and winced.
Ross opened the file folder he was carrying and cleared his throat. Liza figured what was coming because this scene was a rerun of the one they�
�d had last year about this time.
“I’m concerned you’re not making enough progress toward your fund-raising goals,” he said. “The auction was a huge success, so we’ll be upgrading the anti-doping programs for players, and the summer camps.”
“That’s pretty exciting,” she said, hoping to steer the conversation toward the camps.
“But everyone still needs to meet their individual fund-raising goals,” he said. “Right now, you’re much further behind than any of your coworkers.”
The inspirational quote he’d e-mailed them this morning said, “Think beyond the boundaries.” Right now Liza was thinking beyond the boundary of her office door, and wishing she were on the other side of it. She hated to disappoint Ross. “I’m concerned, too, and I’m working on developing some new donors right now.”
“That’s good to hear.” He shifted in his chair and frowned. “You do a fine job with the camps, Liza. Phenomenal, really. But if you don’t make your goals, it’s not fair to everyone else who has to raise money, too. It affects all of us—financially and with morale. Especially since the goal sheets are posted in the conference room for everyone to see.” He closed the folder and ran his fingers up and down the edge of it. “If you miss your goal two years running, it wouldn’t be right for me not to take serious action.”
Liza’s stomach pitched. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a touchy situation with Sylvia being your mom, and you doing so well with the camps. But I’d have to consider some kind of probationary period where you focus on development and someone else runs the camps until you can properly balance your work.”
He might as well have slapped her in the face. She couldn’t think of a word to say. Running those camps and helping those kids toward their dreams was one of the most meaningful parts of her life.
“Chin up,” he said as he stood and opened the door. “You’ve still got three months, give or take. I know you can do it.” He shot her an encouraging smile, and she nodded numbly.
Ross headed down the hall and she spun her chair to face the window. Rain fell steadily outside, weighing down the leaves of the ginkgo trees and making them look sad. She felt the same way. If Ross turned camp management over to someone else, she might never get that job back. Even if she did, everything she’d worked so hard to put into place might be changed or even ruined. Whoever he gave the job to might be just as bad at it as Liza was at fund-raising. Or should she say BADD at it? Though that wasn’t even funny right now.
There was always the solution of having her mom intervene, but Liza refused to entertain that option. Regardless of her good intentions, her mom had made things uncomfortable enough for Liza with her coworkers. She was determined to prove herself without the help of her parents.
Liza propped her elbows on the desk. She bowed her head, combed her hands through her hair, and clutched the back of her head where a headache was settling in. She didn’t need to worry, really. Everything would be fine. She’d be getting Frank’s donation in a couple of months.
Right?
She absolutely couldn’t fall for Cole. Yes, she liked him, but she wasn’t anywhere near in love with him, and that’s what Frank’s ridiculous paperwork had said. She and Cole could be friends, couldn’t they?
“Trying to keep your head from exploding?”
Liza sat up straight and swiveled her chair. Paige stood leaning against the doorjamb, wearing all black except for a lightweight pink-and-yellow-striped scarf. A large pink tote bag, about half her size, hung from her shoulder.
“Hey,” Liza said, trying to act happy. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a delivery a couple miles away, so I thought I’d stop in.” Paige lowered her eyebrows. “What’s wrong? You look kinda pale.”
Liza stood and closed the door. “Ross just told me if I didn’t make my fund-raising goal this year, he’d put me on probation and assign someone else to run the camps while I learned to troll for money.” The words raced from her mouth, strung together with barely a pause.
“Get out.”
“That’s just it. I’ll have to leave here if all he wants me to do is raise money.”
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Where is his office? I’m gonna tell him what a dumb—”
Liza’s heart leaped into her throat. “No!” She jumped between Paige and the door. Paige was enough of a firebrand to actually go after Ross.
Paige crossed her arms in a huff. “Stop being stubborn and ask your folks for the money. You know they’d donate it.”
“I need to prove myself without anyone else’s help, just like you’re doing with Sweet Bee’s. And don’t even think about suggesting I get my mom to save my job. I’d have zero credibility around here, assuming I have any now. I just need to raise the money.”
“How much are we talking about?”
Liza pinched her eyes closed, and she could hardly look at Paige when she opened them. “Thousands.”
“Hmm…that’s probably over my budget, but I can help. I’ll give you the profits from my pie war sales.”
Liza was touched by Paige’s generosity. She hugged her, surprised as always at how delicate she felt compared to how she acted. “I couldn’t take your money.”
“Why not? I’ve gotten lots of orders.”
“That’s fantastic,” Liza said. This had to be the first time anyone had been interested in anything edible she’d made. “And your offer means a lot to me—you have no idea how much. But I have a prospect that might be good for a big donation.” She was dying to tell Paige about her deal with Frank, even though she was embarrassed she’d agreed to do something so underhanded. But she’d sworn to keep it confidential. Paige would never tell on purpose, but sometimes her mouth got ahead of her memory and she blurted out things before catching herself. Liza couldn’t risk Cole finding out what she had done.
“Let me know,” Paige said. “My offer still stands.”
“Aw, thanks.” Liza sank back into her chair.
“Maybe this will cheer you up.” Paige whipped the cutest cellophane-wrapped cake pop out of her tote, decorated like a mini pumpkin all the way down to the stem.
“That’s so precious.” Liza took it. “But how am I supposed to eat it?”
Paige scrunched her face. “It’s on a stick. Seems like you could figure it out.”
“I know how to eat it. I mean, it’s too cute to eat.”
Paige quickly pulled out a twin to the first one and handed it to Liza. “Eat this one, then. I need to know how they taste.”
“Paige! Didn’t you taste them?”
“Sure I did. But I eat this stuff all the time. My taste buds are getting numb to it. They’re in permanent sugar-shock.”
Liza carefully removed the cellophane from the cake pop, admiring the detailed stem and leaf on the pumpkin. “It’s too perfect to mess up.”
“I forget I’m dealing with Goldilocks here. It’s too cute, it’s too perfect. Just eat the stupid thing.”
Liza swallowed against the shock of hearing Wes’s nickname for her. She’d been so focused on Cole and her job and her deal with Frank that she hadn’t been thinking about Wes nearly as much. But right now, the thought of him made her angry. She hated it when that happened, because later she’d feel so guilty. But if Wes hadn’t left her, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Now she was all twisted up inside, and her parents and Paige thought she was moving forward with Cole. Well, they were all in for a big surprise, because she was desperate for Frank’s donation—more now than ever.
She crumpled the cellophane in her fist and took a bite of the cake pop. The chewy-brownie-textured cake tasted rich, with cream cheese icing perfectly complementing the chocolate. “Delicious,” she murmured through a mouthful.
Paige sighed with relief. “Good to know. One bad batch of somethi
ng, and that could be it for Sweet Bee’s.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Paige pushed a stack of files out of the way and sat cross-legged on Liza’s desk.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Liza teased.
“I owe you and Cole big time.” Paige looked serious for once. “For all that publicity Sweet Bee’s got from the pie war. Those orders came in so fast I thought about putting an ad on Craigslist for some Oompa Loompas.”
Liza was thrilled to see Paige’s business doing so well. She’d had a rough go of it since her career as assistant pastry chef at the storied Hay-Adams hotel in DC came to an unexpectedly quick end. Her mom had been diagnosed with lung cancer, and caring for her had been too much for Paige’s dad, who ran the barbershop in tiny Maple Creek. So Paige had moved back home to help. She’d still been only an hour from DC, and she could’ve kept the job. But caring for her mother took most of her time. After her mom passed away, Paige didn’t have the heart to leave her dad, so she’d rented the building next to the barbershop and opened Sweet Bee’s.
“Have you got more orders than you and Cynthia can handle?” Liza asked, referring to Paige’s part-time help.
“I think we’ll be okay. The orders are spread out pretty well. But if the Nats or the Os make the World Series, I might need Willy Wonka’s whole factory.”
“You mean when the Nats and the Os make the Series.” Liza finished eating what was left of the yummy cake pop. The sugar alone was making her feel better about things.
“That’ll be awkward,” Paige said. “You and Mr. All-Star sexing it up while his team plays your dad’s team in the World Series.”
“We’re not ‘sexing it up.’”
“Sorry to hear that,” Paige teased. “But you will be soon. For sure by the time the Series rolls around, unless there’s simply no freakin’ hope for you.”
“I can’t imagine we’ll make it that far.”
“What? He all but admitted he’s crazy about you. You’ve only gotta say the word, and it’s on.” Paige twirled her pink-striped ponytail around her finger. “You have to hit it with Cole-His-Hotness-Collins at least once so you’ll have a story to tell your grandkids.”