by Sykes, V. K.
“Go on,” Taylor said, trying to steel herself for the rejection she could sense hurtling right at her.
“On the plane ride home last night, Dembinski made a point of coming back to talk to me. He actually kicked Marriner out of his seat so he could sit beside me.”
That threw her off her stride. “Politely, I hope,” she said with a nervous smile. Where is this going?
Ryan responded with a grimace. “He started out by saying I’d had a pretty good series then asked me if I’d had any yips.”
It was no surprise that Dembinski would have put that question to him, but Taylor didn’t say anything. She absolutely did not want to reprise that discussion.
“When I said no,” Ryan went on, “he told me everybody was satisfied with how I’d played—him, Ault, Delgado.”
But for having just received such a vote of confidence, he didn’t look happy. “Then what happened?”
“Then he laid the kicker on me.”
Taylor wanted to jump across the coffee table, grab him by the shoulders and shake the words out of his mouth. “And what was that?” she gritted out.
His mouth turned down at the edges. “He said that your idea to make me go to that New York guy was an over-reaction. And then he said I shouldn’t have to miss any more games because the team needs my bat in the lineup.”
She gasped, as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Man, talk about a sucker punch. She could barely breathe.
“Yeah, exactly,” Ryan said with a growl, looking royally pissed off. “The son of a bitch. I hate like hell to have to tell you that, but I figured you needed to know. That you’d want to know.” He gave her a sympathetic grimace. “Believe me, Taylor. I wanted to slug Dembinski for undercutting you like that.”
Taylor’s emotions whipsawed back and forth, between fury at Dembinski and pleasure that Ryan had wanted to leap to her defense. Ryan obviously understood what the GM’s cutting remark meant. It wasn’t just that her boss thought she’d been wrong about an important player matter. The real blow was that he’d undercut her, to use Ryan’s words. It was incredible. To diss her like that, and to the very player in question, courted disastrous consequences both for her personally and for her relationship with the players and staff. What if Ryan blabbed about it to his teammates? She had faith that he wouldn’t, but with any other player she’d have enjoyed no such confidence.
No, every way she looked at what Dembinski had done, it was wrong. Her general manager had made it clear that he lacked full confidence in her. At the same time, Taylor’s confidence in him had suffered a shattering blow. And, dammit, if Dembinski felt that way, he should have had the guts to tell her first instead of blabbing to a player. It felt like someone had just kicked her in the gut.
Taylor swallowed against the gigantic lump that had formed in her throat. “You were right to tell me. Thank you.” She tried to give him a self-deprecating smile but couldn’t quite make it. “I don’t know what else to say, other than that I’m devastated.”
“I know. It’s not a great sign.” He reached out a hand as he saw her struggle. “Come here, babe.”
Out of pure instinct, Taylor grasped his hand and slid around the low coffee table, plopping down next to him on the sofa. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight against his hard but welcoming body. She choked back tears, determined not to cry. But the humiliation and dismay ate at her, hollowing her out. Everything she’d work so hard for seemed to be slipping from her grasp.
“I know, babe. I know.” Ryan hugged her close as she nestled into the warmth of his side. He smelled like the spicy soap he used, and like leather, too. It was achingly familiar.
“You know what it’s going to be like to work with him now, don’t you?” She forced out in a tight voice. “Knowing not just that he doesn’t have confidence in me, but that he has so little regard for me, too?”
Ryan made a gently scoffing sound. “The guy’s been a jerk from birth, from what I hear. And something of a loose cannon. Maybe he just wasn’t thinking when he said that. He was pretty juiced up over the road wins, and maybe it was mostly the drinks talking. He’d be a first-class moron not to have confidence in you.”
He reached up and stroked a hand over her hair, trailing his fingers down her neck. Even with all the pain in her heart, it felt good. So good.
God bless Ryan for trying to ease her anxiety, but Taylor knew Dembinski better than he did. The GM wasn’t a loose cannon, at least not in that way. No, he’d deliberately chosen to deliver a message to Taylor and to do it in the most hurtful way possible—through the man he knew she’d been involved with.
Well, Taylor, you decided to play with fire, so you shouldn’t be surprised when you ended up getting burned.
She could hear Dembinski saying those very words if she decided to confront him. That was exactly what he’d have thought about her and Ryan getting involved.
“There’s something else,” Ryan said.
Taylor lifted her head to look at him. “Shit, really?”
He grimaced and pressed her back into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her skull. “When I said that I knew you were just doing what you believed was best for the team, he gave me this rat-faced look and then brought up the fact that we’d been seeing each other. He said it was no secret around the team.” Ryan inhaled deeply, as if it was painful for him to talk about. “Then he said he’d heard it was over between us, and that was a good thing for both our sakes.”
Though Taylor didn’t want to leave the comfort of his side, the anger surging through her forced her to move. She pulled from his arms but swung her body around so she could face him directly, and tucked her leg underneath her. “Trust me, this has nothing—or at least damn little—to do with you, Ryan. This is all about punishing me for getting involved with a player.”
His eyes told her he understood that very well. “I’m sorry, Taylor. I never should have pushed you the way I did.”
“You didn’t push me.” She shook her head as her flagging courage revived. “I knew what I was doing. I’m just sorry and mad as hell that Dembinski didn’t confront me directly. The way he did this to me—and to you—just sucks, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to work with him anymore.”
“I don’t know if you want any advice from me, but…” Ryan didn’t finish.
“Of course, I do.” Unable to sit still any longer, she got up and stood before him, her hands on her hips. If Dembinski had been standing in front of her right now, she didn’t think she could hold back from popping him in his big, fat mouth. “Go ahead. Please.”
He leaned forward, planting his corded forearms on his thighs. “Look, if it was me, I’d have it out with him. Man to man. Tell him exactly what I thought of what he’d done, and ask him how you’re supposed to work together from now on. Make him try to justify what he’s done, because I don’t think he can.”
Taylor pondered that. Her instincts told her to go with it, though she knew it would seriously risk getting her ass fired in the process.
“By the way, I more or less told Dembinski to fuck off,” Ryan said with a little snort. “After he said that it was a good thing for both our sakes that it was over between us.”
His words sent her anxiety roaring back—anxiety for Ryan. “God love you for that, but he won’t forget that you called him on it.”
“Yeah, well, he can lord it over you,” he said with a narrowed gaze, “but I don’t think he’d do something stupid that might hurt the team just so he could get at me.”
He studied her for a few moments and then came slowly to his feet. He rested one hand on her shoulder, using the other to tilt her chin up. “I’ll be honest with you, babe. When we left for Miami, I was convinced that I had no choice but to get out of Philly. Either force a trade to an AL team, or take my chances by demanding my release. The only decent future I could see was to go somewhere as a DH, and forget about trying to make myself into something I’m not.”
Taylo
r gasped. “But—”
He put a gentle finger to her lips. “Let me finish, okay? I had a decent series down there, and maybe I’ve even fooled Dembinski and Ault for a while. But I can’t let myself be fooled anymore. I can’t throw because something’s wrong with me. Something bad, and it’s not getting better. You’ve known it for a long time, and so have I. The difference between us is that I couldn’t admit it. I just couldn’t.”
The bitterness and pain on his face told her how hard it had been for him to accept that truth. Taylor grasped his free hand and squeezed, her heart thudding so hard she could barely breathe.
“But when Dembinski did that to you—and when he basically threatened both of us—something in my head finally clicked. I knew right then that I didn’t want to run away from the problem. Shit, I’m tired of running from my problems, or just trying to manage them enough to keep everything from falling apart. Dembinski can go to hell, because I intend to stay right here with the Patriots for as long as I can. And what’s happening now with Devon makes it even more important that I try. Philadelphia is a good solution for us, even more so now that she might be able to go to school here.”
Taylor’s heart soared that he wanted to stay, but she had a dozen questions for him, starting with “What about us?”
But that enormous one got stuck in her throat. She could both see and feel the tension radiating from his big body as his hand gripped her shoulder tight enough to almost be painful. His neck muscles looked like thick ropes.
He gave a grim nod. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I want to go see that doctor of yours in New York.” He forced a little chuckle. “I guess I must be a contrarian, huh? Now that I don’t have to go, I want to.”
Taylor let his hand go and slid her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his soft tee shirt, relishing the feel of his solid chest under her cheek. “I don’t care why you changed your mind. I’m just so glad you did.”
He hugged her, his hands down low—just above her ass—and drew her even harder against him. His cock, huge and rock-hard, pressed into her belly, and the feel of it sent a flood of relief and need surging through her veins.
“I want to stay here,” he said in a low voice, cradling her close. “And I want to be with you. But if that could cost you your job, or wreck your career here...”
She raised herself onto her tiptoes and kissed him quick and hard on the lips, her hand yanking his shirt out of his jeans. “That’s enough talking. Right now, I can think of much better ways we can communicate.”
29
A SURGE OF relief flooded through Ryan’s veins as Taylor struggled to yank his tee shirt over his head, along with a whole shitload of hormones telling his body to get busy with her body right now. He let her have her way, bending his knees and putting up his arms so she could slip the shirt over his head. Her expression intent, she attacked his belt next.
“Hang on a sec, babe,” he said, capturing her face between his hands and forcing her to look at him.
Her fingers stilled at his waist as she gazed up at him, her prairie sky blue eyes still damp from the few tears she hadn’t been able to hold back over her frustration with that asshole Dembinski. And her gaze, so wary only a few minutes ago, was now heartbreakingly vulnerable and open.
She swallowed hard, the muscles of her slender neck visibly contracting. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He pressed a quick, soft kiss to her plush lips. “Nothing. I just want to make certain this is what you want. I’ve been making too many of the decisions in the relationship, if only by acting like such a jerk and pushing you away, and I don’t want to take anything—”
She let out a dramatic sigh, but the tension bled away from her pretty features. “For your information, Mr. Locke, you are not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do, as I would think you’d have figured out by now.” A wry smile touched her lips. “In fact, I’ve been the pushy one, not you.”
He smoothed a few stray hairs of white-gold back from her cheeks. “Only for my own good, sweetheart. All you’ve ever wanted to do is help me.” He knew that now—how much she’d gone out on a limb for him, at great cost to herself. He’d never be able to completely repay her for all the ways she’d helped him, but he was damn well going to try.
She looked a little teary again as she gazed up at him, and she had to blink away the moisture. “I care for you a lot, Ryan. A lot,” she said, emphasizing the last few words.
“Me, too,” he answered in a gruff voice. “I care for you a lot, too.”
In fact, he was pretty damn sure he was in love with her, but he was afraid he’d scare the crap out of her if he told her that right now. Their relationship was complicated on a whole lot of levels, and they would need time and probably a lot of talking to get things right. They would get it right, but for now what they needed was to be with each other—physically, more than anything else. It was the best way he could think of to reconnect with her, and show her how much he cared for her, too.
She gave an adorably defiant little sniff, placed her hands on his chest and gave him a little shove. “Okay, then. Maybe you could show me how much you care about me instead of going all Mr. Sensitive on me.”
“Caveman time again, is it?” he said with a grin. “Lady, your wish is my command.”
Ryan caught her under the knees and around the shoulders, sweeping her up into his arms. She choked out a surprise laugh and then nestled comfortably in his arms. He relished the feel of her. Not simply the luscious curves of her delectable body, but the sense of rightness he felt holding her close to his heart.
“What, no tossing me over the shoulder? No brute displays of alpha male dominance?” she asked, her eyes now glittering with laughter rather than tears.
He strode down the short hall in the direction of her bedroom. “Nah, that’s only for anniversaries, remember?”
Her gaze grew smoky with desire. “How could I ever forget?” she murmured.
She stretched up and nipped at his earlobe, and a heavy bolt of lust streaked down to his groin. Ryan clamped her hard against his chest and headed into her room in a rush, overtaken by the fierce need to get them both naked and into bed. Just looking at her, feeling her against him, practically made the bones shake in his body. At this rate, he’d be lucky to even get inside her before letting go.
He set her on her feet and reached for the hem of her polo shirt, but she slipped out of his grasp.
“Taylor…” he growled.
“Patience, big guy,” she said in a husky voice as she sauntered over to the picture window looking out over Rittenhouse Square.
By the enticing sway of hips in her skinny jeans, Ryan was damn sure she was deliberately winding him up. Not necessary. He was already wound so tight he was afraid he’d explode as soon as he touched her.
“We don’t want to put a show on for half of Philadelphia, do we?” she purred as she drew the white sheers across the window, turning the room into a dim, intimate space of soft shadows.
He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps just for the fun of it and more than ready to play her little game. “Hell, no,” he growled. “You’re mine, babe. Let’s be clear about that.”
Her gaze dropped to his erection, currently straining against his zipper. She gave him a cheeky little grin. “I can get down with that.”
Then she drifted toward the queen-sized bed with its fluffy white duvet and lace pillows, lifting her little pink shirt over her head as she went. Her slender back narrowed to a perfect waist but it was her chest that captured his attention. She was wearing the white satin bra he loved, the one that pushed her breasts up into full, luscious mounds just begging to be sucked. And she was obviously just as turned on as he was. He’d barely touched her and already her nipples were pushing against the smooth fabric in taut points.
He watched her, his chest pulling tight with an insane combination of lust and tenderness as she slowly undid her jeans and wriggled out of the
m. Of course, she turned her back to him, giving him a perfect view of her first-class ass as she undressed. No thong today, but it hardly mattered. Even in her plain white panties, Taylor was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Well, are you going to join me or just stand there leering all afternoon?”
That unglued his feet from the floor. “Just enjoying the view.”
She turned around to meet him, flowing into his arms like cool, liquid silk. “I’d rather you enjoy it from here,” she whispered as she stretched up on her toes to kiss him.
At the soft connection of their lips, his heart turned over. She was both tender and passionate, her arms sliding around her neck as she seemed to pour all her emotions into the kiss. Ryan tasted it all—her relief, her happiness, even all her insecurities—because he recognized them as his own, too.
When they finally put a little space between them, trying to catch their breaths, he cradled her face between his hands. “I’m sorry I was such a dope. It wasn’t like I wanted to hurt you. I was just—”
She pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him. “No, Ryan, it’s okay. You were trying to do the best for you and Devon. I understand that.”
He hugged her, relishing the feel of her nestled in his arms. “Yeah, well, I was still a dope.”
She laughed. “Let’s just say stubborn and leave it at that, okay?”
He nodded, and drew back a bit to look down into her face. Her blue eyes were misty with tenderness, laughter, and a feminine understanding that made him realize all over again what a lucky bastard he was.
“Deal,” he said. “But how can I make it up to you?”
“Just make love to me. That’s all I want right now.”
“I can do that,” he said, walking her backwards the few feet to the bed.
She plopped down with a giggle when her knees hit the mattress. While Ryan shed the rest of his clothing in record time, she got rid of her underwear. Part of him wanted to stand there and gaze at her, drinking her in, but he couldn’t hold himself back. He tumbled down beside her, wrapping himself around her until he couldn’t feel where his own body ended and hers began.