Saving Maverick

by Debra Elise

  “Well now, it got you to speak to me, so I think practiced or not, it had the desired result.” He smiled.

  Out of the corner of her eye she watched as his face transformed. Gone was the sensual smile and in its place was a dimple-filled and genuine one. He was still a man on a mission but, oh my, those dimples.

  He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Rand Jansen, but everyone calls me Maverick.”

  She accepted his sport-roughened hand around her smaller one and tilted her head to the side. How should she play this? He may be the first man in a long time to make her feel even a twinge of sexual interest, but they would soon be working together. Maybe she should test him? See exactly how he would handle a woman turning him down.

  “Kelsey,” she responded.

  “Just Kelsey?” he asked.

  “For now.” She smiled.

  “Do you usually go by one name? Are you a secret agent or something?” Maverick grinned again.

  “Or something.” She took a slight step back for her sanity. Her core tightened. She became aware of her nipples as they pebbled and brushed against her camisole. Kelsey sure was glad she wore a blazer for her meeting with T.S. Otherwise Maverick would be able to see the effect he was having on her.

  Damn. Why was she having such an intense reaction to this man? It had taken a mere brush of his hand and the sound of his sinful voice to wind her up. She needed to get a grip and get off the terrace—fast.

  “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Jansen, but I think I’ve been out here long enough. It’s all yours. Enjoy.” She meant to walk past him, she really did. But there wasn’t much room on the balcony for more than two, maybe three people, and in the dark, she miscalculated its width. She ended up walking directly into his side. And paused just long enough to feel that he was as affected by her as she him.

  “Oh, sorry. It’s getting dark out here, isn’t it?” Kelsey noticed a breathiness in her voice and cringed. She moved backward, but he placed a hand on the small of her back and held her in place. Heat bloomed instantly under his touch and she felt a warmth seep even lower. Her body was now pressed into his erection, erasing all doubt of what he was after.

  Crazy. This was plain crazy. People didn’t respond this way, did they? Even one-night stands didn’t happen within minutes of introduction, right? Lord, how many chardonnays had she had anyway? Not used to her body responding in such a fierce, instantaneous way, she leaned back, breaking the delicious contact but still close enough to be enveloped in his body heat.

  “No worries, Kelsey. This is actually right where I want you. I thought it would take a bit longer to get you here, but I don’t mind if you don’t.”

  He flashed those dimples again. She was so screwed.

  She found she wanted the challenge of turning around this man’s self-destructive image, if not his behavior. What she couldn’t allow herself was a night of guaranteed hot sex she was sure to receive at the hands of this gorgeous, arrogant athlete. Both T.S. and Maverick deserved her full attention and professionalism.

  She couldn’t afford to let physical attraction rule her decision-making when it came to working with Maverick. She was determined to not make the same mistakes her mother did.

  In the past Kelsey had done her best to set aside her personal feelings when it came to working with professional ballplayers, but Maverick could prove to be her biggest challenge. He was the sexiest man she’d ever met, period, and he was more than ready to please.

  She took a deep breath and stood as tall as her current position would allow her. No way was she going to fall for the Maverick charm. “I’m sure there are plenty of women here who would love to be in my current position. But I’m not one of them. Please. Let me go.”

  “Wow, you really think highly of me, don’t you?” He dared her with his sarcasm and rubbed his thumb along the sensitive spot at the small of her back. A slow rhythm, back and forth. Unintentional? Practiced? At the moment she could give a damn.

  “Kelsey, I’m not interested in any other woman here. I’m not sure what exactly is drawing me to you, but I know one thing, it’s more than simple lust. Although I have a healthy dose of that going on, and call me crazy, but I think you do too,” he whispered.

  Her pussy pulsed at his bold suggestion. She had one word for her body.

  Traitor.

  She held her tongue. A future VP position in the USBL or one night of no-attachment sex? He was waiting for a response, but she wouldn’t cave. Not now. He was her soon-to-be client, not a one-night fantasy lover.

  Turned out she didn’t need to make a decision. He stepped back, and the warmth she’d been cocooned in vanished. One simple step left her aching for him to grab onto her again. To put back the rightness of the moment. But his hands remained stubbornly at his sides.

  “I’ve never forced myself on a woman, Kelsey, and I won’t start now,” Maverick reassured her.

  Kelsey looked up into Maverick’s eyes and pinched her lips together before she replied. “Look, we don’t know each other, but I know who you are and I’m not looking to be another notch on your Louisville Slugger.”

  Leaning in close and placing a hand on the railing before she had a chance to deflect his move, he whispered into her ear. “Too bad. If that’s what I was looking for, I can assure you I would have no problem convincing you I had the perfect spot for that notch. But now, well, now you’ll never know my true intentions.”

  His breath slid over her neck, into her sensitized ear. Liquid heat pooled in her panties.

  She needed to get away from the temptation of one Rand “Maverick” Jansen and maybe rethink working closely with him. Would a coveted position with the Outlaws be enough protection against Maverick’s heart-stopping looks and charm?

  “I guess we won’t know. But then again, there are other ways two people can interact successfully without anything physical happening between them.” She edged her way slowly to the door as she spoke.

  “Ah, the age-old question. Can men and women be just friends? Is that what you’re looking for, Kelsey? Seems a shame, don’t you think? When two people meet and there’s an intense, instant spark, not to test it out. See where it leads?” Maverick asked.

  “We could philosophize all evening and never come to the same conclusion. Look, I’m flattered, I really am. But I’m not interested.” Kelsey inched her way closer to freedom. But did she really want it?

  He didn’t look like he was ready to give up, or believe her, and so he surprised her when he flashed her another devilish grin. Darn him, she’d be dreaming about all those smiles later tonight, especially this last one.

  “Fair enough,” Maverick replied. “Well, I hope to maybe see you again. It seems one thing about moving to a smaller town is that you eventually run into the same people, over and over.”

  He raked his gaze over her, lighting tiny fires along the way. Warm again, in all the right places, she cleared her throat before she answered. “I guess it depends on your circles, but yes, that does tend to happen around here,” Kelsey said.

  Before she crossed through the doorway, Maverick whispered loud enough to reach her. “Looks like I’ll be joining a new circle.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Maverick, thank you for coming in first thing. I’m sure you would have preferred sleeping in on your last day before training.” T.S. stood up and offered his hand to Maverick. Motioning to a burgundy leather chair, he indicated the seat opposite his desk.

  “How’s the arm?” he asked.

  Maverick cringed as he sat down. He hated that he continued to let everyone believe his pitching issues were physical. He knew better. He’d be discovered when they’d had enough of his excuses and made him prove his supposed muscle weakness.

  Hell, how was he was going to dig himself out the shithole he’d created? But right now he had one pressing issue, and that was finding out what the new boss had to say in regard to the video running rampant on social media.

  Maverick broke the uncomfortable si
lence. “T.S., thanks for including me in the party last night. I know you didn’t have to invite me and I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Even though you’re on the disabled list, you’re still my number one pitcher.”

  Maverick tried to gauge the truth behind that statement, looking for any indication on his face that he was lying. He saw genuine kindness and again felt like a heel for keeping the truth from the man who could have easily voided his contract.

  “Well, I think Yagasaki would take issue with that statement, but I appreciate the confidence you have in me,” Maverick replied.

  T.S. leaned back in his chair and looked him in the eye, holding his gaze, as if daring Maverick to look away. “So, since we’re done with the bullshit niceties, how about you tell me about this viral video?”

  Damn, be careful what you put out there, Mav. The universe had a lousy way of messing with the mind. He took a moment to think and couldn’t come up with anything that would satisfy the man sitting across from him.

  “So you’ve seen it?” Mav asked.

  “I wouldn’t waste my time bringing you in here if I hadn’t. What I really want to know is if you still think that way.”

  T.S.’s face gave nothing away. Mav couldn’t read the guy. He’d walked in here fully prepared to be traded or bought out.

  Maverick’s last hopes of remaining an active player in the USBL were disappearing rapidly. All he worked for shot down by one night of drinking and running off at the mouth. He flashed back to another night where poor choices had altered his life. His brother, Connor, had been so excited to drive the sports car Mav had bought him. But an evening spent enjoying his new ride was cut short when an 18-wheeler had crossed the median and slammed into the driver’s side of the car. Mav had been thrown clear, but not his baby brother.

  Maverick had refused to back away from his brother’s body, even when the responding officers tried to physically move him. When the EMTs arrived they too gave up and let him remain next to Connor as they tried and failed to find a pulse, to revive the son his parents were so damn proud of.

  In his nightmares, all Mav could see was the blank, lifeless stare on Connor’s face and the blood trickling from his ears. A disembodied voice would scream Connor’s name over and over. It was his own voice. And no matter how hard Mav tried, the dream always played out the same damn way.

  After Connor’s graduation from Princeton, he was to follow in their father’s footsteps and work side by side at the family law firm. Every time he pictured his brother’s face, all he could think about was that the accident was his fault.

  It was always Mav’s fault.

  “Maverick? Hey, man where’d you go?” T.S.’s raised voice finally penetrated through the fog of memories. He blinked several times as he brought his boss back into focus. Damn, this was not going the way he needed it to go.

  “I’m sorry, I . . . could you repeat that? Sorry.”

  T.S. sat back in his chair, crossed an ankle over his knee, and didn’t speak for the longest thirty seconds of Mav’s life.

  “I’m going to cut you a break today. And it’s going to be the only one I give you. I’m not going to ride your ass for the video, because you’re being persecuted enough by the media. So I’m going to leave that problem to the professional public relations consultant I’ve hired. What I really want to know is, how’s the arm?”

  This he could answer. He had his speech down pat whenever anyone asked him about it. “It’s improving. Manny has been working with me since I arrived. He’s done some new therapy and I think—”

  “Look, don’t bullshit me, Maverick. I can see that there’s something else going on and we both know it’s not physical. Right?”

  Fuck. The man didn’t get to where he was by being oblivious to others’ weak points. No, from everything he and his teammates had heard since it was announced that the man staring him down would be their new owner, he was a pit bull in the conference room and expected everyone who worked for him to perform with all cylinders firing, always.

  Who was he kidding? He needed someone on his side right now and who better than T.S.? Pretending to be injured when he wasn’t had been eating at him for weeks. It was time to be honest.

  “Okay, I’ll cut through all the crap. The arm was a hundred percent a long time ago. I can’t really explain why I can’t toss the curve and the cut ball like I did before the accident. I just . . . can’t.”

  There it was out on the table for his boss to accept or not. Maverick really had no clue why he could no longer pitch like he used to. It was frustrating and demoralizing. The harder he focused on it and the more time passed, the worse it got. Hell, he might as well quit now and get it over with.

  He laid himself bare. “I knew I should have been more upfront with the trainer—and you. It’s something I’ve known for a while.”

  “What if I told you I’ve suspected that very thing, and that you’ve been covering up the real reason you lost your touch?”

  Mav took a deep breath and looked T.S. directly in the eyes. “I’d say is there anything you don’t know? You’re like an all-knowing deity who everyone around here scrambles to do their best to impress. So yeah, it’s not too hard to think you’ve known all along,” Maverick replied.

  T.S. grabbed a baseball-imprinted stress ball emblazoned with the Outlaws logo, and tossed it to Mav.

  He caught it with ease and turned it over and over in his pitching hand, staring at it like it held all the secrets to the universe. The team’s logo, a bandanna-masked face, mocking him.

  “Here’s another question for you. Actually two, because as I see it you’re dealing with a public issue and a private one. And in regard to the first problem, I’m not giving you a choice. You will work with the consultant effective today. Later this afternoon.”

  “Sure, no problem, I can handle a guy sending out press releases for me, I guess. And what’s the second?” he replied.

  “Would you be willing to talk to someone who can help you figure out the pitching stuff?”

  “What, like a shrink? Hell, no,” Maverick said. He pushed his chair back from the solid oak desk and began pacing the room. “There’s nothing wrong with my head, T.S. I know the mechanics of throwing the ball and can do it blindfolded. There’s nothing in my head that’s keeping me from remembering how to pitch.”

  “But what if there is?” T.S. asked.

  “There’s not,” Maverick shot back.

  “Did your brother play baseball?”

  “What?”

  “Connor, your younger brother, did he play ball?”

  “Sure, but only through high school. He didn’t have the drive to make a career out of it like I did . . . do.” Mav stopped his pacing and stood still with his hands on his hips. “What’s with the questions about my brother?” Mav demanded.

  “Is he the reason you’re having trouble, Maverick? You know it’s not so far-fetched to think that your pitching issues may have something to do with his death,” T.S. said.

  Mav didn’t answer. He stared at the man who could kill his dreams. He didn’t talk about Connor, with anyone.

  “Look, I’m not saying you need a shrink or that there’s anything wrong with your head. But it seems to me you’ve tried everything else. Why not go to a counseling session or two, see what it’s like, and then make a decision on whether it helps you?”

  “I don’t want any meds, T.S. I don’t need that shit clogging up my head any more than . . .”

  “Than what, Maverick? The booze?”

  “Hell. Okay, so I’ve had a couple of public explosions, but I can handle my liquor.”

  T.S. made him sweat it out. He wasn’t offering him any sympathy, and Maverick sure as hell didn’t need it or want it. He just wanted to play ball.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll go to a session or two. But I’m doing this for you. So I can remain on the team. Because that’s what it’s really about, right? I do what this PR guy wants and see a shrink and I can conti
nue playing.”

  “That’s part of it, Maverick. But if the pitching doesn’t return to what it was, even I can’t keep you on the DL forever. There are rules . . .”

  “Yeah. Rules. I get it.” Sighing, Mav walked toward the door. He needed to get out of there and not think about the “what if” that was left hanging in the room.

  “Before you go, let me give you the name and number of the team’s new consultant.”

  “Sure.” He walked back to take the piece of paper from T.S.’s outstretched hand. He read the name, Kelsey Sullivan.

  His heart began to pound. It couldn’t be.

  That was the first name of the woman he wanted in his bed, the one who turned him down, the one who was speaking to T.S. at the party. And the one he wanted to ask T.S. about.

  “Wait, is this the woman from the party last night? The one I thought was your girlfriend?” God, please let this be a mistake.

  “Yes, and she’s the best at what she does. She’s also a personal friend. We grew up together not too far from here. She’s been working on a game plan for you.” T.S. looked down at his watch. “Actually you’re scheduled to meet her for a late lunch.”

  Maverick absorbed the news and looked over T.S.’s shoulder. He nodded his head as his gaze zeroed in on the pitching mound, the stadium, and finally on the river beyond. His reputation was now in the hands of a woman he wanted to do all sorts of naughty things to. He cursed the fates. “Is there any way we could . . .”

  “Is something wrong, Maverick? Actually you look a bit green. Is it because Kelsey’s a woman? Because if it is . . .”

  Hell yeah, it was because she was a woman. A woman he wanted to bury himself in and make scream. “No, it’s not that. It’s just. Hell, it’ll be fine. I need a couple of more weeks and I’ll be back to my old self.” He nodded to T.S. and left the office. He was so screwed.

  Chapter 6