All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids)

by Freethy, Barbara

  There was certainly more to him than she'd first thought, and she was excited and a little nervous to see him again, even though she was absolutely certain that going out with him was a bad idea. She pulled a lightweight jacket over her tank top and leggings and checked her front window for his car. There was no sign of the bright red Ferrari. She let the curtain fall and paced around her living room, trying to burn off some restless energy.

  She needed to figure out how to handle Matt—or more importantly how to handle herself.

  She'd wanted to feel sparks for Eric, the very nice guy she'd gone out with the night before. But their second date hadn't gone as well as their first, and that was Matt's fault. Matt, with his bigger-than-life personality, his wicked green eyes and sexy smile had made Eric pale in comparison. Eric was attractive, but he wasn't in Matt's league. And why would he be? He sat behind a desk most days and his pale skin probably burned if he got into the sun. But Eric was responsible, committed to his cause of protecting the environment. He cared about making the world a better place, and he was exactly the kind of man she should like.

  She obviously had too much of her mother in her. Instead of making the sensible choice, she was being tempted by a man who could easily break her heart.

  Her phone rang, interrupting her worrisome thoughts. Was it Matt calling to bail out of class? She grabbed the phone out of her bag and saw her mother's name.

  "Hi Mom," she said. "I was just thinking about you."

  "I was thinking about you, too," Alicia Michaels replied. "How are you, honey? It's been a few weeks since we've spoken."

  "I hadn't realized." That wasn't completely true. Since her mom had gotten remarried, they hadn't talked as often as they used to.

  "Are you free for dinner tonight?" her mom asked. "I thought that Kent and I might drive up to the city and take you out. I know it's last minute, but I wasn't sure of Kent's plans until now."

  Her mother's words made Julie frown. Why did her mom always let a man's plans take precedent over her own? Or was she once again painting men with her dad's old brush?

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just about to go to a hip-hop class with some friends. I can't cancel this late."

  "Oh, of course. I understand. Maybe next weekend."

  "I don't know, Mom. It's crazy busy right now at work. We have a couple of big events coming up over the next few weekends."

  "Well, let's try to make time somewhere. I miss you, Julie. It was just you and me for so many years. It's strange not to talk to you every day."

  "I know, Mom. I feel the same way. But you're happy with Kent, right?"

  "I am, more than I ever imagined I would be. He's a really wonderful man. I never thought I could fall in love after your father did what he did, but Kent is so different, so attentive. Even when we sleep, he has his hand on me. It's like he can't bear to be too far from me at any moment."

  Julie's heart turned over. She really was happy for her mother, maybe a little jealous, too. "I'm so glad, Mom. You deserve to have a man like that."

  "I want you to have one, too."

  "I'm not worried about that. I have lots of time."

  "I feel like I may have poisoned you a little when it comes to men. I've been feeling guilty about all the ranting and raving I did about your father when you were younger."

  "You didn't tell me anything I didn't see with my own eyes. So don't worry about it." Her apartment buzzer rang. "I have to go Mom. We'll talk soon."

  "Call me back tomorrow. There's something else I want to discuss with you. It concerns your father."

  Her gut tightened. "What about him?" She pressed a button to let Matt in. She'd been intending to run down to greet him, but now she was distracted by her mom's cryptic words. "What's going on, Mom?"

  "I can't get into it if you're on your way out the door. Call me tomorrow and we'll talk."

  "Okay," she said reluctantly. "Bye Mom."

  She ended the call and opened her door. Matt stood before her in a navy blue t-shirt and gray workout sweats. He looked good no matter what he wore. He gave her a smile that made her toes curl. Yeah, going out with him again was a really bad idea.

  "Julie," he said in his deep baritone. "Are you ready?"

  "I am. Just let me grab my keys."

  "No hurry," he replied, following her into the apartment.

  Her very small one-bedroom apartment would probably fit into his living room, but she didn't care. She loved her warm, cozy space, and the rent had been a steal. A friend of her mother's owned the place and had been transferred to London, so she needed a subletter. Julie had jumped at the chance to move out of the apartment she shared with three friends and have some space of her own. Not that she didn't miss the girls, but living by herself was really great.

  "It's nice," Matt said, his gaze sweeping the room. "Not quite what I expected."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It's…girly."

  "I am a girl," she said dryly.

  He smiled. "Since we've met I've seen mostly your sharp side. Now there appears to be a lot more softness to you, even some whimsy, and a hell of a lot of pillows," he said, waving his hand toward the six colorful pillows taking up most of her couch.

  "I like color," she said.

  "And flowers." He paused by a side table to study a big bouquet of daisies. "Unless these are from your date last night?"

  "No, I bought them for myself. One of my former roommates runs a small flower shop near my office. I stop in there at least once a week. I like flowers and pillows, but the owner of this place is responsible for the purple walls." She grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter. "We can go now."

  "I haven't seen the bedroom."

  "Maybe another time."

  "I like the sound of that."

  "You know I didn't mean it like that." She waved him toward the door. They walked down the three flights of stairs together and made their way out to the sidewalk. The afternoon sun had disappeared into a mass of thick, foggy clouds. She shivered and zipped up her jacket.

  "The weather changes fast in this city," Matt commented as he opened the car door for her.

  "I like the fog. Mother nature's air conditioner."

  "I don't mind it, except when it creeps into the ballpark, and I lose the fly ball in the mist." He frowned. "And I'm bringing up baseball again."

  "It's a big part of your life," she murmured.

  "I was going to try not to talk about it tonight."

  "Well, we won't be doing much talking at dance class. And you don't have to try not to talk about your life. We both know what you do for a living."

  "And we both know it bothers you. So tonight we'll dance and talk about other things." He shut her door, then walked around the car and slid behind the wheel. "Speaking of dancing, am I going to look like an idiot in this class?"

  "I don't know. Are you a good dancer?"

  "I'm really good at tapping my foot to the beat while standing in a bar. Does that count?" he asked as he started the car.

  She smiled. "I don't think so. But you have a lot of natural athletic talent, so I suspect you're better than you think. And it doesn't matter if you're not. You'll like the workout and Isabella is great at getting everyone in the class involved. She's a fantastic teacher and wait until you see her moves. She's really good. She's been in music videos and danced at the Grammy's."

  "Sounds like we're in good hands then. Is Isabella a friend as well as a dance teacher?"

  "Yes, she's one of my best friends. I lived with her up until a few months ago. We met in college. In fact, I found most of my closest friends freshman year in a communal bathroom. We've all stayed pretty close over the years. In fact, we have a pact that no matter how far we drift apart, we'll always come back for each other's weddings. It sounded like a great idea in theory, but lately my friends have been getting engaged every other month, so I feel like I'm on a merry-go-round of bridal showers and bachelorette parties."

  "I've had a few friends tie the knot
in the last couple of years, too. Fortunately, I only had to usher in one of those weddings."

  "Are your friends all ballplayers?" she asked curiously.

  "A lot of them are, but I do have one good friend from childhood that I still see. He's an orthopedic surgeon now."

  "Maybe he could give you an opinion on your arm."

  Matt shot her a smile. "He has. He told me to stop throwing so hard or so often. Obviously, that's not an option."

  "You should be careful. You don't want to end up with a serious injury."

  "I have a lot of trainers looking out for me."

  "Sure," she said, having forgotten for a moment that Matt did not need her to worry about him. He had an entire team of people who were there to support every aspect of his career and probably the rest of his life as well. Their lives were very, very different, and she really shouldn't let herself forget that.

  Chapter Six

  The dance studio was located in a one-story brick building near the flower mart. As he parked his car in the shadowy lot, Matt wondered just what he'd gotten himself into. Not just because the area was a little run-down, but also because he was stepping completely out of his world. He spent most of his time at the ballpark or the gym or with baseball friends, and it was only since he met Julie that he was beginning to realize how isolating his life had become.

  "Don't worry," Julie said. "The neighborhood looks worse than it is. Your car will be safe."

  "I'm not worried about my car," he said.

  "Really?" she asked doubtfully as she got out of the car. "It's pretty fancy."

  He smiled. "I won it, Julie. It was the MVP gift in last year's playoffs. Before that I was driving a ten-year-old jeep."

  "You've certainly upgraded. It goes with your celebrity."

  "It's just a car. I've never been that into what I drive."

  "Then why not trade it in for a less sportier vehicle?"

  "You might find this surprising, but I can be a little lazy."

  "Except when it comes to baseball, right?"

  He tipped his head to her point. "Right."

  "Well, you won't be able to be lazy tonight. Isabella will kick your ass."

  "Does she own this place?"

  "Her aunt is the owner, but Isabella is the manager. They have two studios and all kinds of classes ranging from ballet to hip-hop. In the daytime, they work with more serious professional dancers and at night, Isabella runs classes to bring in the rest of us." She paused as another car pulled into the lot. "There's Michael and Liz. Let's wait for them."

  He was happy to see another guy in the mix. Even though Julie had told him there would be men there, he hadn't been entirely convinced. Since Michael Stafford was an ex-pro-football player, they also had something in common.

  "Hi guys," Julie said as Michael and Liz got out of the car. "I want you to meet Matt Kingsley. This is my friend Liz Palmer and her fiancé Michael Stafford."

  "I've seen you play," Matt said, extending his hand to Michael. "Nice to meet you."

  "Likewise," Michael said with a warm smile. "So how did you get talked into this?"

  "I wanted to see Julie again, and this is what she was doing," he said simply.

  Michael laughed and shook his head. "The things we do for women."

  "It's going to be fun," Julie said. "Let's go inside. I think it's almost time for class to start."

  "Have you done this before?" Matt asked Michael as they walked into the studio.

  "Not hip-hop, but Liz did make me take a ballroom dance class a few weeks ago."

  "Which you sucked at," Liz said with a teasing smile.

  He gave a cheerful nod. "It's true. I had great moves on the football field, but the dance floor I seemed to trip over myself every two seconds. Although part of the problem was that this woman here likes to lead instead of follow," he added, putting his arm around Liz and giving her a squeeze.

  "Because I knew what I was doing and clearly you did not," Liz protested.

  Michael laughed. "You always say that." He looked at Matt. "We've been fighting since we were fourteen years old. High school rivals."

  "Really? And that turned into love?"

  "It was always love," Julie put in. "They were just too stubborn and competitive to see it when they were teenagers. Trust me, I know. I was there. I heard Liz rant about Michael more nights than I can count."

  "That's true. Michael was a pain in my side," Liz agreed. "But then we grew up and figured out those sparks between us were more about love than hate."

  "Exactly right," Michael said, giving Liz a quick kiss. Then he pulled open the door. "Let's dance."

  The large studio with slick hardwood floors and a wall of mirrors was filled with about a dozen people when they entered. Isabella immediately came over to greet them with a happy smile and a quick hug for her girlfriends. With her dark eyes and dark hair, she had an exotic beauty but it was her infectious smile that really charmed Matt.

  Within minutes they were lining up, and Isabella was giving some brief instructions on what they were going to do.

  "Ready?" Julie asked as Isabella went to start the music.

  "Probably not," he said. "But we'll soon find out."

  "Everyone is learning, so we're all in the same boat."

  "Yeah, but there seem to be a few more eyes on me," he said, tipping his head toward the mirror where a couple of women had clearly recognized him.

  Julie gave him a dry smile. "I doubt you could do anything that would wipe the interest out of their eyes."

  "You seem to think I have no trouble getting women."

  "Do you?"

  "Well right now, I seem to be going to a lot of trouble just to spend time with you."

  "I still haven't figured out why you're going to that trouble. You're not going to change my mind."

  "We'll see," he said, speaking more confidently than he felt. But believing he could do something, no matter how impossible it was, had always worked for him before. Hopefully, it would this time.

  * * *

  Julie watched Matt in the mirror as they danced to the music, and she wasn't alone. As Matt had commented earlier, there were a lot of eyes on him, but he was holding his own. He followed directions well, and he had a natural rhythm.

  He caught her watching him and smiled. She immediately looked away. She'd shivered a little at the purposeful look in his eyes when he'd told her he was going to change her mind about him. The more she challenged him, the more he wanted to show her that she was wrong and he was right. If she started gazing at him with adoring eyes, telling him how wonderful he was and saying she'd date him any place any time, he probably wouldn't be that interested.

  Obviously, she'd played him all wrong.

  Only she hadn't been playing; she'd just been honest and that had somehow increased Matt's interest in her. He enjoyed challenges and he was driven to win.

  But he wasn't going to win her.

  She might like him more than she'd expected to, but bottom line there could never be anything serious between them, not with her history. She had a lot more to lose than just a firmly entrenched opinion about baseball. She couldn't put her heart on the line and have another ballplayer break it.

  Forcing thoughts of Matt out of her head, she concentrated on the dance, putting all of her energy into every move, so that she could get rid of the restless desire that seemed to course through her whenever she got close to Matt.

  An hour later the class ended. She grabbed a drink of water as Matt took a towel from Isabella and wiped off his sweaty face.

  "You were very good," Isabella told Matt. "Nice moves for a beginner. And you weren't bad either, Julie. You have the second dance down."

  "Thanks, you're a great teacher."

  "I agree," Michael said as he and Liz joined them. "I worked up a sweat and an appetite. Who wants to go out for pizza? My treat."

  "I wish I could go," Isabella said with an apologetic smile. "But I have a family thing. Maybe next Sunday—if y
ou guys come back for another class."

  "You're on," Michael said. He turned to Julie and Matt. "What about you two?"

  Before she could answer, Matt jumped in. "Sounds good to me. I'm starving."

  "Great," Liz said, obviously happy with Matt's answer. "We can all get to know each other better." She sent Julie a pointed look. "Right Jules?"

  "Okay," Julie said, knowing she didn't have much choice but to agree. And there was no danger in a group, right? Pizza and beer—what could go wrong?

  * * *

  An hour later, Julie knew exactly what could go wrong. Seated in a corner booth at Vincenzo's with Matt, Liz and Michael, Julie had quickly become the focus of the conversation as Matt pressed Liz for information about Julie.

  "Tell me what Julie was like in high school?" Matt asked.

  Liz smiled. "Well, Julie and I were kind of outside the popular group."

  "Kind of?" Julie echoed.

  Liz made a face of her, then turned to Matt. "I was really intense. I liked to run for office a lot, even though I usually lost to Michael, who was the star athlete and the most popular kid in the class."

  "What can I say?" Michael said with a helpless shrug.

  "Nothing, so you can be quiet," Liz told him. "Julie was part of the uncool band kid group."

  "Oh, yeah?" Matt asked, turning to her with new interest in his eyes. "What did you play?"

  "The flute," she said.

  "Was it a marching band?"

  "On occasion."

  "Do you still play?"

  "Not often."

  "I had no idea you played an instrument," he mused. "Interesting."

  She had no idea why he thought that was interesting, but then he'd been looking at her all evening like she was a puzzle he had to figure out. Apparently, Liz had just given him another piece of the puzzle.

  "Oh my God," Liz said suddenly.

  "What?" Julie asked, surprised and wary of the eager light in Liz's face.

  "I just had a phenomenally good idea. You should play at our wedding. I've been wanting to have an instrumentalist, and I was thinking guitar, but a flute would be pretty, and you are so good."