Tell Me Something Good

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Tell Me Something Good Page 9

by Jamie Wesley


  “What’s body language?” Ricky asked.

  “It’s the way you carry yourself. I can tell what you’re feeling just by looking at you. And I see a lot of slumped shoulders and down faces.”

  Marvin crossed his arms over his skinny chest. “That’s ’cause we’re losing. We suck.”

  Noelle’s heart melted. She wrapped her arm around his narrow shoulders. “You do not suck. None of you suck.” She looked out at the scoreboard in right field. “You have four hits today. That’s amazing.”

  “Yeah, but they have five runs. We don’t have any.”

  “Yet. You don’t have any yet. And to be perfectly honest, you’re not going to get any.”

  The kids gasped. Tate’s face lit up with anger. Noelle held up a finger to stop him from tearing into her. Marvin tried to move away, but she tightened her grip. “You’re not going to get any until you start believing in yourselves. I hear y’all talking. You’ve lost to this team twice before. You came in thinking you were going to lose. Have you ever heard of the power of positive thinking?”

  The boys, with identical, bewildered looks on their faces, shook their heads in unison.

  “It means that you think good thoughts so that good things happen. You have a positive attitude and believe in yourself. Don’t think about how your last at bat ended as an out. Think about how you’ve now seen the pitcher and know what he’s going to throw. You’re a team. Believe in each other. Cheer each other on. Do you believe?”

  “Yeah, I believe,” Marvin said, his body now wiggling in excitement. “We almost scored a run in the last inning,”

  “Exactly. Now this is what I want you to do. When you walk up to the plate, put your shoulders back, your bat on your shoulder. Like you’re so confident you don’t have a care in the world. Say over and over, ‘I’m the best. I’m getting a hit. I’m the best. I’m getting a hit.’ Then concentrate on the pitcher like you never have before.”

  “Marvin, you’re up,” Tate said. Noelle made eye contact with the boy, who nodded once. He grabbed his bat and batting helmet and bounded out of the dugout, but stopped after a few steps. He thrust his shoulders back and strutted to the batter’s box, the bat on his shoulder. A fierce look of concentration settled on his face as he went into his stance.

  Noelle walked to the front of the dugout and stood next to Tate.

  The pitcher threw the ball. Marvin swung and missed. Feeling the other kids’ eyes on her, Noelle stiffened her posture and kept her facial expression impassive. Marvin looked back, his uncertainty clear. She nodded once, holding her breath. Marvin returned the gesture and faced the pitcher again.

  Ding!

  Marvin stood there motionless, obviously stunned that he’d hit the ball.

  “Run, Marvin,” Noelle yelled.

  His teammates jumped up and down, shouting their encouragement. Marvin dropped the bat and sprinted toward first base.

  Noelle turned her attention to the ball, hoping the kid camped out in center field wouldn’t catch it. To her surprise, the ball kept going…right over the fence. A home run! She jumped up and down and threw her arms around Tate. “Can you believe it? He did it!”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her into contact with his muscular chest. Heat that couldn’t be attributed to the sun flooded her senses. Noelle stepped back and tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Sorry.”

  His amber eyes twinkled. “No need to apologize. You were excited. Besides, I know you love touching me.”

  Noelle glared, but Marvin ran back into the dugout, preventing her from setting Tate straight.

  “Noelle, did you see me? I hit a home run!” Marvin bounced, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

  “I sure did. You were amazing. I could never do that.”

  “Aw, it was nothing.” He waved his hand and stared at the ground, shyness and embarrassment kicking in.

  “Yes, it was. You should be so proud of yourself. All of your teammates are. Right, gang?”

  “Yeah, Marvin that was awesome!” Ricky said.

  The Wranglers lost the game, but it was close–six to five. The kids pumped fists and gave each other high fives anyway. “We’ve never been that close before. We’re going to win next time,” Marvin explained.

  “You sure are,” Noelle said.

  “Are you coming back next week?”

  She met Tate’s amused gaze above Marvin’s head before she returned her attention to the boy. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “You have to come back. You’re our good luck charm. We almost won.”

  “Well…”

  “Pleeeasssse,” his teammates chimed in.

  Noelle laughed. “Okay, okay. I’d love to come back.”

  …

  After saying good-bye to the last Wrangler, Tate watched Noelle swing one of the kid’s bats. She wouldn’t be making the major leagues any time soon. He smiled. Based on the intensity dominating her expression, that fact had escaped her. She haphazardly swung the bat back and forth. He winced. Poor bat.

  “Some swing you’ve got there,” he called out.

  She spun to face him, her eyes narrowing. He grinned. He always knew he was doing something right if she was frowning at him. Crazy enough, he’d begun to look forward to the expression of disapproval. She wouldn’t be Noelle if she wasn’t looking down her nose at him.

  Tate pulled a baseball from his right hip pocket. “Want to try hitting for real?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not scared, are you?”

  Her spine stiffened. “Of course not.”

  He bit back a smile. “Of course not.” He jogged to the pitcher’s mound, while Noelle stepped into the batter’s box.

  “Give me your best shot,” she called out, settling the bat on her right shoulder.

  He tossed the ball, not putting much heat on it.

  She flailed at the ball and missed. “It’s okay. I’m getting warmed up.”

  “I know,” he said, again holding back a smile. She tossed the ball back to him. He threw it.

  A swing and a miss.

  “Word of advice. Keep your eyes open.” He dug another ball out of his pocket and tossed it.

  She whiffed. She stomped her foot and screeched, but then hard-nosed determination settled on her face like a promise. She got back in her stance, tightly gripping the bat. “Let’s go.”

  “Doc, wait.” He jogged to the batter’s box. “Let me give you a few pointers. Can I have the bat?” Without a word, she handed it to him. “Extend your arms and follow through all the way.” He demonstrated. “Can you do that?”

  She nodded. He returned the bat, and she swung.

  “A little slower.”

  She did and looked at him expectantly. He shook his head.

  “Here, like this.” He stepped behind her and wrapped his hands around hers on the piece of equipment. Ridiculous how well she fit into his arms, the top of her head fitting under his chin. She still smelled good, the light scent of lavender clinging to her, and she felt even better.

  “Keep your weight on your back foot and swing through your hips,” he whispered in her right ear.

  He guided the bat in the right direction. Her hips moved in tandem with his. They moved as one, in perfect sync. Like they would if they ever made love. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be going there. Her butt rubbed against his groin, which tightened at the contact.

  Tate took a quick step back. Just because they had this thing between them didn’t mean they should act on it. Nothing good could come from it.

  Except mind-blowing pleasure, his less than sane and reasonable side whispered. Shit.

  “Are you okay?” Noelle asked, concern and confusion both stamped on her face.

  “Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he got out. He wiped suddenly damp palms on his pants. Where had his usual cool gone? “I, um, think you got it. Let’s try again.”

  He picked up the ball at her feet and returned to the mound, sl
owly this time, desperate to calm his rioting senses. He needed to chill and the sooner the better. He faced the woman who was making that damn near impossible. She looked adorable, lips pressed tight, her hands gripping the bat like her life depended on it. Adorable? Yeah, he must be losing his mind.

  The ball flew out of his hand. The bat made contact with the ball. The ball dribbled on the ground toward the mound. Clearly unconcerned with the tepidness of the hit, Noelle jumped up and down like she’d hit a four-hundred-foot, game-winning home run. “That was so cool. I did it!”

  “You did.” His lips curved upward. Her excitement was contagious. She was adorable. No doubt about it. “Want to try again?”

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  He retrieved the ball and threw it again. This time, the bat dinged against the ball louder. The ball bounced toward second base. He jogged to the plate and gave her a high five.

  “Thanks for helping me,” she said. “I never would have gotten it without your help.”

  “Not a problem. Hey, I didn’t get a chance earlier, but I wanted to thank you for the pep talk you gave the team. It was exactly what they needed to hear. The kids loved it.” Hell, he’d loved it. She was the most genuine person he knew, someone who loved helping and being kind to others, caring for them, without expecting anything in return. The conviction in her voice and on her face during the speech had enthralled him, rendering him speechless.

  She lightly tapped him on the chest. “You’re the one who needs to be thanked. You’re doing good work with them. They adore you. You should be proud.”

  “So I do have some redeeming qualities after all, huh?”

  She studied him for a second, her gray eyes probing deep. “You just might.” A slow smile, the one that never failed to twist his insides, spread across her face.

  That invisible line, one that seemed to draw him to her, tightened its hold. The silence between them lingered. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. Being with her felt natural. Right.

  It was Noelle who stepped back. “So are you going to throw again? I still haven’t hit a home run.”

  “Yeah.” He jogged back to the mound, a grin splitting his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun goofing around. He tossed the ball once in his hand and wound up. As he released the ball, a car backfired. Noelle whirled toward the loud bang, then turned back his way—right into the path of the ball. Though it couldn’t have taken him more than two seconds to reach her side, it felt like an eternity. She’d sunk to the ground, her face tilted to the sky.

  Tate fell to his knees, abject fear and terror flooding his body. She moaned, her eyes fluttering open.

  “Doc! Are you okay?” he asked, touching the spot above her cheek where the ball had hit her.

  “Yeah, I think so,” she muttered. “Can you help me up?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He put a hand under her elbow and guided her to her feet. He stared into eyes that were thankfully clear. “You scared the shit out of me.” Anger colored his tone. He couldn’t help it. He was mad at himself for not being able to stop his momentum. Pissed at the trajectory of the ball. At her for turning away. At the car for backfiring.

  She took a couple of deep breaths and blinked slowly. “I’m okay.”

  He caressed her cheek, desperately needing the contact to reassure himself that she was indeed, okay.

  “Really, I am. The ball barely grazed me.” Her lips curled in a small, shy smile.

  His brain wasn’t ready to accept her word. He scanned her body, looking for any sign of hurt or discomfort. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  She looked up. “I’m fine. Truly.” She grasped his hand on her cheek with hers and squeezed.

  Tate stared into her beautiful, gray eyes. All he could see was her. All he wanted to see was her. His eyes slipped to her slightly parted full lips. His breath quickened as the pull between them strengthened. A force he was much too weak to continue resisting.

  He lowered his head. A hand to his chest stopped him. He stilled, hoping she didn’t push him away. Hoping she did—to save him from himself. She didn’t. Instead, she gripped the shirt and slowly pulled him to her.

  “Oh, man,” she whispered right before his lips met hers.

  Lust he expected, but not the overwhelming sweetness and rightness that punched him in the gut. He slid his hand to her chin and tilted it up, seeking a better angle. She wrapped her left arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. She sighed, a tiny sound that acted as a drug to his senses. He took advantage, slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

  They shared a moan. He kept the kiss slow and languid, learning the shape and feel of her. What she liked. But his tactic did nothing to blight how incredible the kiss was. Overwhelming desire filled every pore of his being. If her moans and her active participation were indications, Noelle felt the same.

  He slid his hands down her back to her ass, cupped it, and drew her into his body. She went willingly and gasped into his mouth as his rock-hard erection made contact with her stomach.

  He grinned against her mouth. Yeah, he wanted her. Bad. A swipe of her tongue against his bottom lip had him going back for more, the embrace turning harder.

  Had a kiss ever felt so good, so right? So perfect?

  “Get it, player!”

  Loud whistles penetrated his consciousness. Noelle yanked away from him so fast, he had no choice but to let her go. He jerked around to find three teenagers sauntering by, staring and laughing.

  Shit. They were in the middle of a park. What was he thinking? He glowered. The teens stopped laughing and quickly strode away. His chest heaving, his body still on fire, he turned to Noelle, who he noted, was also breathing unsteadily. He opened his mouth to say…something, but she held up a hand.

  “Don’t. It was a mistake. We…”

  “We what?” He crossed his arms, curious to see how she would characterize the incident. Yeah, right. Try mind-blowing experience.

  She pressed an unsteady hand to her forehead. “We got caught up in the moment. I mean we’ve been spending a lot time together. Doing that again…no. It won’t happen again. We make no sense.”

  Her closed expression let him know the topic wasn’t up for discussion. Regardless, the overwhelming urge to argue had him taking a step toward her. He caught himself before he took another. She was right. Kissing her, no matter how great it felt, was foolish at best. She practically had “looking for commitment” tattooed on her forehead. No need to start something that had nowhere to go. She wasn’t the type for a casual fling and that’s all he had to offer. All he knew how to offer. A slight pang hit him in his chest near his heart, but he dismissed it.

  He was who he was.

  Chapter Nine

  Noelle exited the bathroom and almost bumped into Caitlin. She jumped back, slapping a hand to her racing heart, and glared at her best friend. “What are you doing?”

  Caitlin retreated a step back into the hallway. “Waiting for you.”

  “And you had to scare the crap out of me in the process?”

  “Sorry.” Caitlin grimaced. “I wanted to make sure I caught you before you returned to the studio.”

  Noelle chuckled. “Mission accomplished. What’s up?”

  “Well…I’m worried about you.” Concern flickered in the producer’s eyes.

  Not the answer Noelle was expecting. “You are? Why?”

  “Because you’re off your game. Usually you’re two steps ahead of me and the callers. But today, I don’t know. It’s been weird. Are you okay?”

  The answer to that question would be no. But, of course she couldn’t say, “I kissed Tate, a man I don’t think I like except I’m kind of scared that I do. Not that it matters because getting involved with him is stupid.” He had such cynical views about love. Yeah, now she knew why, but it didn’t matter. She hated seeing him in pain, but he had no desire to change and believing she could change him was the height of stupidity. She wanted a real relatio
nship with a kind, caring man who wanted a future with her. Tate wasn’t offering that in a million years. A fling with him would lead nowhere fast.

  But the man could kiss like no other. God. Kiss seemed like an overly simplistic term for what had transpired between them. Life-affirming. Otherworldly. She was still feeling the aftereffects. Not to mention the random times during the day when flashbacks sprang to mind distracting her from work. She hadn’t even gotten to the part about being in a studio for two hours with him, the kiss looming between them like a living, breathing, gray elephant.

  Nope, couldn’t say any of that. Caitlin would ask if she’d lost her mind and she couldn’t confidently say she hadn’t.

  Instead, she went with the next best option. “I’m fine. My allergies are acting up, and my head has been fuzzy all day.” Lame, but the best she had.

  “You sure? The vibe between you and Tate is kind of weird. You two never hold back, but today it’s like y’all are walking around on eggshells around each other. Which is weird because…” Caitlin’s eyes skidded away, her hands twisting together at her waist.

  Noelle zeroed in on her best friend. “Because what?”

  “Because of how cozy you and Tate looked at the club the other night.”

  The blood in Noelle’s veins froze. Cozy? Was that how they’d looked, behaved? She swallowed, then forced out a laugh. “Come on. You know I don’t do well in that type of setting with all those people around. You and Shannon were busy. He was a familiar face.”

  Caitlin’s eyebrows lifted. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What?”

  “I saw y’all laughing and dancing.”

  Noelle’s hands landed on her hips. “What are you getting at?”

  “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

  “No. Tate and I are fine. There’s nothing going on. My allergies are driving me insane. That’s all.”

  Caitlin studied her for a few seconds. Noelle ordered herself not to look away, not to fidget.

  Finally, her best friend nodded. “Have you taken some medicine?”

  “Yes,” Noelle said quickly, relieved the inquisition was over. “Claritin and I are on a first name basis.”

 

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