Bottom of the Ninth: Seattle Skookums Baseball (Game On in Seattle Book 6)

by Jami Davenport

  Zeke rubbed his eyes with his fists. “No, I would know. He would tell me because nothing would change between us if he were gay. I wouldn’t care.”

  “You sure?”

  Zeke nodded.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know that,” Bella pointed out.

  Fernando wasn’t gay. He’d had a girlfriend in Mexico who’d dumped him for another player when he was in the minors. He’d never gotten over her. He definitely wasn’t gay. Whatever Bella thought she saw wasn’t what she’d really seen.

  “So what’d you want to tell me?” Zeke changed the subject abruptly, refusing to ponder any longer whether or not his friend had been living a lie all these years.

  “I’ll tell you on the way home. Cedric’s waiting for me.” She glanced up from her phone. Her eyes sparkled, and a radiant smile illuminated her beautiful face. A deep longing surged through Zeke. Not necessarily for Bella, but because he wanted a woman to look like that for him.

  He paid the bill, and they got in his SUV. “So, what is it you really want from me?” he said, glancing at her in the light of the dashboard.

  “Hunter asked me to talk to you?”

  “Hunter?” He was drawing a blank.

  “You know, he’s a tight end for the Steelheads. The guy who put together the partnership on that race horse.”

  “Oh, yeah, the horse.” He’d stupidly invested in the animal on a whim after Hunter’s convincing sales pitch.

  “I’m helping him out. He’s throwing a party for his investors, and he’d like you there.”

  “I’m into the season, probably can’t make it.” He thanked his lucky stars.

  “Oh, but you can. It’s the first Monday in May. You’re back from your road trip and have the day off. It’s from seven to ten, a prime rib and salmon dinner, dancing, and the obligatory post-dinner speech.”

  “That’s exactly why I don’t want to go. You’ve heard Hunter talk and talk and talk.”

  Bella laughed. “Oh, yeah, Cedric runs the other direction when he sees him coming. Regardless, I want this event to be a success. We planned this for a night when you could attend. You’re not getting out of it. Hunter wants all his investors there.”

  “How many investors does Hunter have?”

  “Enough. There’ll be others there, too.” She stared out the window, avoiding his gaze. Her evasiveness raised all sorts of red flags.

  “Okay.” He pulled up to the front entrance of the condo building. Getting out, he circled around and opened her door, walking her to the elegant lobby of the building.

  “Bring a date. There’ll be media.”

  “Aren’t you going to find me a date?”

  She smirked. “Me? Hell, no. Find your own woman.”

  There was only one woman he wanted to find, and she lived on the bottom floor of his house and had three kids in her custody. He had a million reasons to avoid her, but none of his excuses amounted to shit when it came to what he wanted, and he wanted Paisley.

  What the hell?

  He’d ask her anyway.

  * * * *

  Paisley heard a tap on the glass door, and her heart rate sped up. She pulled the blanket over her head and tried to ignore the tapping, pretty certain she wasn’t being harassed by a nocturnal woodpecker. More likely a nocturnal first baseman.

  If she answered the door, they’d end up in bed unless one of the kids rescued her, which was unlikely considering how quickly they’d fallen asleep.

  Her sexy but pesky woodpecker didn’t give up, and ignoring him did no good. Finally, she sat up in bed, grateful for her granny jammies, which covered her skin from her neck to her wrists and her ankles. She swung out of bed, slipped her feet into her slippers, and padded across the worn hardwood floor. She peeked out the curtain and came face-to-face with Zeke. He’d been avoiding her for a week, and now he was waking her up in the middle of the night? Something had to be wrong.

  Paisley pushed the door open a crack. “Do you need something?”

  The dull outside light cast his face in shadows, but she couldn’t discount his troubled gaze, and being a sucker for a handsome man with more baggage than Samsonite, she pushed the door open farther. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I just need a little company right now. I have a bottle of good wine, and I was hoping you’d share it with me.” He held up the bottle and a corkscrew. Of course, Paisley wouldn’t know a good bottle from a bad one, other than good wine didn’t usually come in half-gallon jugs or in boxes.

  Paisley studied him in the dim light, looking for signs he might be drunk or perhaps as horny as her grandfather’s old hound when the lady poodle across the street was in heat.

  His eyes weren’t glazed from alcohol, nor were they dilated by lust. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. What she did see in his eyes made it impossible for her to turn him down. He looked a little lost and a lot confused, and she liked rescuing a man, even if she was the one who needed to be rescued once they hooked up. She knew how to pick ’em and build them up. They, in turn, knew how to tear her down, break her heart, and leave nothing but a few bones bleached in the hot Idaho summer sun.

  “I could use a nightcap,” she lied.

  His smile was reward enough, and she bundled up in a sweatshirt and followed him to the stone patio, which ended at a green lawn sloping down to a wooded bank.

  He wiped the dew off of some lawn chairs, and they took their seats. He opened the wine and poured two glasses, then gave her one. He held his up to hers with a clink.

  “To a beautiful evening.”

  It was beautiful, if not a little chilly, dispelling the rumors that it rained in Seattle all the time. It didn’t, at least not what she’d seen, except for that first night.

  This particular night, the sky was dotted with stars and a large crescent-shaped moon. A ship’s horn blared as it came into Elliott Bay, and lights danced across the water from a ferry crossing to Bainbridge Island.

  “Where are you from?” Zeke asked, surprising her. He’d shown very little interest in her origins previously.

  “Idaho. A little town called Wally near Twin Falls.”

  “Wally?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Great name for a hick town, wouldn’t you say?”

  He nodded. “I don’t know much about Idaho.” No surprise there. Idaho didn’t have a major league baseball team. Those were probably the only cities he visited.

  “Wally is in the southern part of the state near the Nevada border.”

  “Oh, pretty barren then?”

  “You could say that.” She didn’t really want to talk about herself, nor did she want to talk about her past in any way, shape, or form.

  She sensed a waiting in him, as if he were testing the waters.

  “And you? Where are you from?”

  “A barely middle-class suburb of Pittsburgh. Nothing remarkable. Just a blue-collar town of about forty thousand. Not a lot of money there.”

  “Same with Wally, except for the size.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that. What did your parents do?”

  “My mother bartended and worked as a waitress. I didn’t know my father.” She couldn’t believe he’d rapped on her door this late at night to talk about her background.

  “Oh, did he die?”

  “No, he left before I was born.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry about that.” He reached over and patted her hand.

  “It’s okay. I don’t care.” She did care, and the skepticism in his eyes indicated he knew she was lying.

  “And you?”

  “Not much to say. Mom died in an accident when I was young, and my dad raised four kids as a single father.”

  “He never remarried?”

  “No.” His bluntness didn’t put her off. She’d seen this reaction from him before. At the first mention of his father or brothers, Zeke put up a closed sign, pulled the blinds, and locked the doors. He portrayed the model childhood to the media, from his hardworking devot
ed father to his talented and supportive brothers, but his story was bullshit, and they both knew it. She knew a fellow wounded soul when she met one.

  He refilled her wineglass and reached for her hand. “I’ve made a mess of things with you.”

  She forced herself not to react as her mind raced ahead in an attempt to figure out what mess he referred to. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. She smiled back. There couldn’t be a woman in Seattle who could resist when he focused his charm and turned on his engaging smile.

  “I was wondering if you’d go to this event with me.”

  Paisley played the words over and over in her mind, coming up with the same result every time. Even then, she still didn’t believe what she’d heard. Certainly she’d misunderstood him. “Uh, event? What kind of event?”

  “I invested in a racehorse, and there’s an investor’s party on the first Monday in May.”

  “Are you asking me out?” She was incredulous.

  “Yeah, I guess I am.” He ducked his head for a moment, and she got the strangest feeling he was uncertain.

  “Why the sudden change? I thought we’d agreed to be friends.”

  “And how’s that working out for us?”

  “Not well,” she admitted. She wanted to go out with him. She’d rarely been asked out on a real date, definitely not one to a fancy event. The fanciest her dates had ever gotten was dinner at an all-night diner or burgers at Mom’s Café on Main Street in Wally.

  He smiled at her. “I’d like to see where this might go. No reason not to.”

  She could think of a million reasons not to go out with him, all of which had to do with her heart and her sanity. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “It isn’t, but I’m asking you anyway. I need to take a date, and you’re the only woman I want to take.” He studied her earnestly. Little worry lines marred his brow, as if he believed she’d turn him down. Paisley didn’t have that kind of willpower. Tomorrow she’d probably be picking out her silverware pattern and wedding dress, because she was delusional like that.

  His honesty warmed her heart. “Is it formal?”

  He nodded.

  Her heart sank. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “You have my credit card. Buy something.” He looked her up and down, and desire burned a hot blue flame in his eyes. “Something sexy.”

  “I can’t do that. I’ll buy my own dress.” She was an expert shopping at consignment and thrift stores. She’d find the perfect dress.

  “Good, then you’ll go?”

  She started to say yes, then her hopes crashed and burned. “I don’t have a babysitter.”

  “I’ll find one.”

  “Where?”

  “Trust me. I can find one. I have connections.”

  “I can’t leave them with just anyone.”

  “I know. I promise whoever it is will be thoroughly checked out.” He gazed into her eyes, his own sparkling with life instead of dull with sadness. “Then you’ll go?”

  She nodded, still not believing he’d asked her out. “I’d better be going back inside.”

  He rose and grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. Walking her to the sliding door, he gently pulled her into him and took her face in his hands. She stared up at him. He bent his head and touched his lips to hers, sliding his tongue along her lips with a feather light caress. She couldn’t recall a man ever kissing her with such tenderness.

  She wanted more, but she didn’t get it. He backed away. “Good night, Paisley.”

  “Good night, Zeke,” she said to his retreating back. She touched her lips with her fingertips.

  She could still feel him there.

  * * * *

  Zeke left early the next morning on a weeklong road trip. Operating on minimal rest, he tried to sleep on the plane. If he didn’t get his act together, he’d be sent down to Triple-A or traded again if the Skookums could find a team stupid enough to take him.

  They won the game, barely, and Zeke actually had a hit and an RBI. He’d also caught a really tough fly ball. Not a bad night, all in all.

  The team bus deposited them at the hotel around eleven thirty. Since his body was still accustomed to Pacific time, Zeke knew sleep wasn’t an option. He also felt like an ass asking Paisley out under false pretenses. He should’ve told her the truth, that he needed to date a nice woman so the press and team ownership would get off his ass about coming out. He’d given her false hope. Hell, he’d given himself false hope. Part of him wanted their night to be a real date.

  Yeah, stupid, then what?

  He didn’t have any plans to make this a long-term relationship, not with those three kids. Plus, there was his deeply buried temper and how little it would take to detonate it. Sick of himself and tired of thrashing the same thoughts around and around, Zeke paced the floor.

  Normally, he holed up in his room after a game and didn’t socialize. Tonight, he needed a distraction from his own head. Dressed in jeans and a Skookums T-shirt, he entered the hotel bar in search of his teammates.

  It was dark and quiet since it was Tuesday night. He stood in the doorway and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. A couple of businessmen sat by themselves, hunched over their laptops. He couldn’t see his teammates anywhere. The room was large with intimate, high-backed booths that made it hard to find them, but he didn’t hear them, either. Surely the boisterous bunch would be vocal after winning the game. They must’ve gone to the sports bar nearby. He turned to leave when a familiar laugh froze him in place.

  Fernando. He’d know that laugh anywhere.

  He headed in the direction of the back of the bar, looking for his buddy. And stopped dead in his tracks. Fernando sat in a booth with his back to Zeke. Across from him sat a man dressed right out of GQ. Zeke pegged him for a metrosexual type who cared about shoes and clothes as much as most women did, a lot like Fernando actually, now that he thought about it.

  The two were talking in low tones, and something curled inside Zeke’s gut. They didn’t act like two men talking sports or the weather or whatever superficial shit guys always talked about. In fact, they appeared to be having an intimate conversation. Zeke backed away, not wanting to be seen, and slipped out of the bar.

  He rode the elevator to the privacy of his room and sat down in the lone chair by the window, trying to process what he’d just witnessed. Fernando could be intense. Perhaps he was discussing politics or social change with this guy. Maybe the guy was a publicist or something. Zeke wasn’t good at speculation. He’d just ask Fernando the next chance he got. Now that the gay seed had been planted in his brain, he was interpreting everything differently when it came to Fernando.

  They’d been best friends since the minors. He trusted Nando. Surely his buddy felt the same. If he was gay, he’d tell Zeke. He had to know it wouldn’t affect their friendship in the least.

  Maybe he didn’t know? Maybe their friendship didn’t go beyond superficial? Maybe Zeke should mind his own business like he always did. Somehow that didn’t work as well as it once had. Not with Fernando and definitely not with Paisley.

  Chapter 11—Broken Bat

  Late Sunday night the team flew back to Seattle after an afternoon game. Zeke crashed and slept in the next morning until about 10:00 a.m.

  He’d only seen glimpses of Paisley as she readied herself for the party that night. He paced the floor, working himself into a rare state of nerves.

  Zeke hated formal events, didn’t like wearing a tux, and sure as hell hated all the bullshit that went along with such formalities. He always felt like a bit of an idiot as he struggled to fit in with the upper crust of society and worried about almost everything like picking the right fork, eating raw fish, and pretending to like martinis when he’d rather have a beer.

  Only this event was different for a few reasons. The person hosting it was an athlete, not a snooty patron of the arts or society matron, and even better, he was going with Paisley. She’d probably feel as out
of place as he did, but they could suffer together.

  Actually, he’d been surprised Hunter would go for the black-tie thing. The formality seemed so against his beliefs as a member of a local Puget Sound tribe. Hunter usually did his own thing and to hell with anyone else. He played tight end for the Seattle Steelheads, the same team Zeke’s brother played for.

  He’d wondered briefly if either of his brothers would be there, but Bella would’ve warned him.

  Damn. He was fretting like an old woman. He ran his hands through his hair. He’d rolled out of bed too late this morning to get it cut. Usually he kept it pretty short, but cutting his hair had been a low priority lately.

  The thunder of footsteps pounding up the stairs to the main floor signaled the arrival of either a herd of elephants or three little kids. He turned his attention to the staircase, forgetting all about his earlier worries. The kids positioned themselves on either side of the staircase as if they were footmen escorting Cinderella to the ball. They giggled and elbowed each other.

  Paisley emerged, a vision of pure femininity and understated sexuality in a frothy pink dress. She wore just enough makeup to accentuate her high cheekbones and gorgeous eyes. Her golden-blond hair fell loose about her shoulders in cascades of curls. The kids cheered loudly, except Sadie, who clapped politely and almost smiled.

  Oxygen thickened in Zeke’s lungs, making it difficult to breathe. The dress might be conservative, but she looked hot as hell in it, all sweet girl next door with a healthy dose of the sinner down the street.

  He didn’t know much about dresses, but this one was sleeveless with diagonal bands of silver and a conservative neckline. The skirt was full and fell below her knees. She couldn’t have enticed him more if she’d been wearing a string bikini. She wore strappy sandals with generous heels. Even then she barely came to his shoulder.

  He instantly wanted her naked with nothing on but those heels. His dick couldn’t agree more.

  She twirled around for him in the entryway, her skirt swishing against her thighs. The temperature in the room elevated twenty degrees. He wiped his brow with his sleeve.