Perfect Game

by Collette West

  "Well, I'm a company girl now," I protest. "They're not paying me to badmouth them."

  "Oh yeah. That's right. They're paying you to kiss Scott Harper's bat," Alex heckles me.

  "Are you really going to get on my case about that again?" I groan. "It's just part of the job."

  "I never thought you'd do something like that. That's all."

  "I know you don't approve, but can you please drop it?"

  If she knew what's really been going on between me and Scott, she'd have a heart attack.

  "But since we're talking about the military tribute program, Harper is usually the player who escorts the veteran and his or her family behind home plate and stands with them through 'God Bless America.' So I can't fault the guy for that," Alex begrudgingly replies.

  "Yeah. He went to a military high school. That's probably why."

  "Well then, I guess he can't be all bad," she chuckles. "Yeah, he's easy on the eyes, but I'm glad there's more to him than just his big, hard dick."

  "That's funny. I thought that's what you liked the most about his naked photos," I taunt her.

  "Hey, I'm not saying it's a bad thing," she laughs. "The guy is super hot. Would I do him? In a heartbeat."

  I roll my eyes. "Can we please get off this boy-crazy tangent of yours?" I mutter, not wanting to talk about Scott like that with my little sister.

  "Not yet because you should've seen the guys in my class today without their shirts on. Oh my God, Carrie!"

  "I thought you were dreading pool day," I bust her, smiling at her enthusiasm.

  "I was able to put a T-shirt on over my bathing suit, so it wasn't too bad. We were lifting and moving patients around in the water, so they had no problem with me covering up these big ol' boobies of mine," she laughs, even though I know how much situations like that stress her out. "If I get to ogle the bare-chested hotness of Eric, Chris, and Dave for forty-five minutes, it's totally worth it. Next week can't come soon enough."

  "So, you'll send me something to wear?" I jump in, cutting her short when I get a mental snapshot of how the water was dripping off Scott's chiseled pecs in that damn hot tub the other night.

  "All right. I can take a hint," Alex mumbles, the noise increasing on her end as she enters a crowded room. "I'll make sure you look beautiful for the date you're going on."

  "I'm not going on a date!" I insist, lying through my teeth.

  "Uh huh. Tell me another one, sis," Alex laughs. "But I wanna hear all about it when you get back. This guy must be finer than fine if you're going to all this trouble for him."

  I open my mouth, but no words come out.

  Alex is still laughing when she disconnects before I can answer her.

  Yeah, my date is gorgeous, but I'm not dressing up for him. Oh, no. I'm doing it for the guy who should've been my date—the one who's going to regret not asking me first.

  ***

  "Oh, Carrie, I love your outfit! You look amazing!" Grey exclaims, winding her way through some party guests to give me an air kiss on the cheek.

  Chase and Grey's Tampa mansion is beyond impressive. It sits on a small island, accessible only by a private bridge manned by a full-time security staff. The windows run floor to ceiling, granting a spectacular view of the water. It's elegant, luxurious—the perfect place to throw a party for a gathering of high-profile athletes and their significant others.

  "Thanks, Grey." I twirl in my Marchesa chiffon cocktail dress, the one Alex FedExed from New York. "I think it's because I actually feel comfortable in what I'm wearing for a change."

  "I like this look on you. You should stick with it." Grey fingers the sheer, black material of the sleeves.

  I know what she's saying—my tits are actually covered up for once. This time, my back is on full display. Yep, my sister can style me better than anyone.

  "Yeah, I wish I could, but K-TV isn't paying me to be myself, unfortunately." I take a sip of champagne and try to get myself in a party mood, getting anxious about how the night is going to unfold.

  "But really, how are you doing?" Grey leans into me, the full skirt of her dress brushing against me. "And I'm not talking about the abbreviated text version. I want the whole story."

  "Honestly? The job is way better than I imagined," I reply, trying to put a positive spin on things. "Yeah, it's a lot of long hours and the traveling sucks, but I feel like I'm really contributing, which is all I could ask."

  "But what about the whole man situation?" Grey's big, brown eyes watch me intently. "My jaw dropped when I saw you walk in with Jake. Why didn't you tell me you were coming with him?"

  "Because I wasn't sure if I was going to go through with it or not," I mumble, breaking eye contact with her and glancing nervously around the room. "Is Scott here yet?"

  "No, but I'm sure he's gonna make one hell of an entrance." Grey rolls her eyes. "So be prepared."

  "I don't know. He's been avoiding me lately. We haven't spoken to each other in two days." I shrug, tipping back my head and draining the last of my champagne.

  Grey steps in front of me, taking my empty glass and blocking my arm when I reach for another from a waiter walking by carrying a full tray. "Easy, Carrie. It's gonna be a long night." She smiles at me, but I frown at her, needing some liquid courage before Scott's arrival. Then she leans in, her dark, glossy hair falling over her shoulder. "But what about the photos he's been sending Gayle of you kissing his bat?"

  "Well, we meet at a designated time outside the visitors' clubhouse," I reply, ticking off the motions on my hand. "He glares at me, holds out his bat, gives a big, fake smile for the camera, the flash goes off, and then he stalks off toward the dugout and we go our separate ways."

  "That's insane," she sighs, shaking her head.

  "I thought he'd break his hitting streak on purpose just so he wouldn't have to keep doing this with me, but you know how these guys are." I give her a sad smile. "The game always comes first."

  "And how's Jake been reacting to all of this?" she inquires when Jake's infectious laughter rises above the rest of the party chatter.

  I spot him near the buffet table, cracking up over something Chase said, and I look away. "Like the cat who ate the canary, and that's what's so frustrating about all this. He thinks he's won, but—"

  "Carrie, c'mon. Give Jake a chance. Look at him smiling like a fool over there." Grey nods in the direction of my date, but I can't bring myself to look at him again. "You've made that boy so damn happy. He really likes you. It's written all over his face."

  "But he can be a little too much," I groan.

  "What do you mean?" she asks—like there could ever be anything wrong with Jake Woodbury.

  "I don't know," I mumble, and she gives me an exasperated look. "All right. Tonight, when he knocked on my hotel room door to pick me up, he told me I looked beautiful and all of that, but when I turned around and he saw the back of my dress was cut out, he got all weird with me. He took off his jacket, wanting to cover me up, and insisted I wear it until we arrived at the party. He made me feel like I was dressed inappropriately, like I was looking to attract attention by baring my body. God, I didn't think he was such a prude. It felt like he was judging me, like he thought I was dressed way too slutty to be seen with him in public. So when we walked through the lobby, he kept his arm around me the whole time, glaring at any man who dared look at me. Then, when the valet offered me his hand to slip into the cab, Jake got all up in his face and told him I didn't need any help. He got it."

  "So you're telling me you'd rather be with the kind of guy who doesn't open a door for you?" Grey presses, making me sound like an idiot.

  "No. That's not what I mean." I shift my feet, annoyed at myself. "I guess I want a guy who can give me some space without breathing down my neck every five seconds."

  "So let me get this straight. You think Jake's too attentive?" she questions.

  "More like suffocating the hell out of me. That's why I came over here to get away from him."

 
"Funny, that's not how I see it."

  "Well, he's not glued to your side, is he?"

  "Carrie, Jake bided his time, waiting to make his move." Grey smiles at me. "And now that you gave him the green light, he can't keep his eyes off you. For a man to show you he can be faithful like that, it's kinda hot, if you ask me."

  "But, Grey, that's where you're wrong!" I exclaim, frowning back at her. "It's not like that at all. He's telling everyone I'm his new girlfriend and posing for pictures with his arm around me like we're a couple or something. But I told him this is just a one-time thing and we're here tonight as friends. There's no spark, not like there is with Scott. What can I say? Jake's not my type."

  She raises an eyebrow at me. "So, you just came with Jake to make Scott jealous?"

  "I don't know what I'm doing," I moan, rubbing my temples. "I guess I got scared. I've been racking my brain night after night and I don't see how being with Scott can possibly work. I—"

  But Grey interrupts me, peering over my shoulder. "Carrie, take a deep breath."

  I crinkle my brow at her. "Why?"

  "Because Scott's here."

  I turn around, and my eyes zero in on the door. My heart starts hammering in my chest because Scott is standing there looking absolutely incredible in a crisp, white shirt and tight, black pants.

  "Oh my God, he came alone," I mumble, hardly believing it to be true as my heart skips a beat. I thought for sure he'd want to show me up by draping some rail-thin model on his arm. "Damn it. Why does he always have to look so amazing?"

  "'Cause he's Scott Harper," Grey chuckles.

  Chase is waving Grey over, and she gives me a wry grin.

  "Poor Jake never stood a chance, did he?" She gives my hand a quick squeeze before moving through the crowd to join her husband.

  I turn my back to the revelry and face the wall, trying to collect myself. This is going to suck so bad. Yeah, I accepted Jake's offer just to piss Scott off because I'd thought he'd bring one of his past flames in a surefire tit-for-tat move, but he didn't. Now, I feel like an idiot. I thought Scott didn't want to be seen with me in front of his teammates because I don't quite measure up to the standard he's used to. But this is a couple's party, and he flouted the rules and came here stag, willing to be the odd man out, just because of me.

  He'd asked me to go with him and I'd said no, but he hadn't asked anyone else either. He'd been serious. He hadn't just offered me some secondhand invitation because his friend had beat him to it. He really wanted to go with me, and I messed it all up by coming with Jake.

  Damn it.

  I feel myself start to shake, but then a familiar hand grazes the exposed skin on my back, making me shiver.

  "Hey, Care Bear."

  I glance over my shoulder, and Scott's face is so close that I can almost taste the velvety softness of his lips. I'm lost in the moment as I find myself turning into his strong, hard frame, loving how his hand never leaves my body. Instead, his fingers skim the curve of my waist, following my every movement. His gray eyes are stormy with desire when we finally come face to face. He wasted no time in coming over to me, and my heart flutters at the thought. He's sending a clear message: He's here because of me, and he doesn't care who knows it.

  My dress is long, hitting the floor, but I close my eyes when the caressing motion of his thumb drifts dangerously low to that sensitive region right below my bellybutton. The fabric of my dress is acting like a barrier, though, so he deftly bunches it between my legs so I can feel the pressure of his fingers in all the right places. I press myself into Scott's hand and sigh.

  No one can see what he's doing to me—thankfully, we're all alone in this corner of the room. He has me all to himself, so I give in to what he's doing to me. God, does he have a way of bringing out my wild side, and I'm unable to resist. I let myself go. His broad back is shielding me from view while his sexy touch is confirming that I belong to him and no one else.

  "Just what do you think you're doing, Harper?"

  I open my eyes, suddenly remembering I didn't come here alone.

  Jake angrily smacks Scott's arm away from me, and my cheeks redden at what Jake caught him doing to me.

  "There he is! The man of the hour!" Scott blusters when he catches the ferocity in Jake's gaze. "I knew you wouldn't stray far from her side."

  "What the hell's wrong with you, huh?" Jake seethes, his jaw clenched tight. He lowers his voice, speaking in a strained whisper. "Thinking you can come in here and lay your hands on her." He narrows his eyes, advancing on Scott. "You have no right to touch a lady like that in public." The vein in his neck is throbbing as he shoves Scott, making him stumble backward. "You disgust me!"

  "Then do something about it." Scott smirks right in Jake's face, rolling his sleeves up.

  "I'll do whatever it takes to defend a woman's honor." Jake glares at Scott, hurriedly unbuttoning his cuffs. "She came here with me. Not with you. And you're damn well gonna respect that." He tugs angrily at his tie, working the knot loose.

  I latch on to Jake's arm. "Please don't do this. You're overreacting."

  But he gently removes my fingers from his wrist and steps in front of me.

  I really don't want a fight to break out over me—not in the middle of a New York Kings' party. I can't let this happen. I have to speak up.

  "You have a game to play tomorrow," I remind them, but when Jake doesn't listen, I try to plead with Scott. "Does your hitting streak really mean that little to you?"

  Scott gives me a weak smile, sadness filling his eyes. "It does now."

  I feel my heart plummet to my toes, and I swallow hard. "C'mon, Jake," I say, striding forward and lacing my arm through his. "Let's go and you can introduce me to Jilly."

  But Scott's not done. Not by a long shot. "Yeah, Jilly's a lucky son of a bitch, isn't he? Beautiful fiancée, baby on the way—there seems to be a predictable pattern forming on this team. Chase and Grey. Brooks and Sasha. Jilly and Hailey. Who's it gonna be next? Jake and Carrie?"

  "Shut the fuck up." Jake drops my arm and goes shoulder to shoulder with Scott.

  "What? Don't like me putting the pressure on, Woodchucker? Aren't ready to live up to everyone's expectations for you yet?" Scott taunts him. "Yeah, I know what that feels like. It fuckin' sucks being the guy who never measures up."

  "We're nothing alike, and you know it. Don't you ever compare me to you," Jake says, grabbing Scott's arm.

  "I'll do what I damn well please." Scott sneers at Jake, shrugging him off. He moves forward, speaking just loud enough so that only Jake and I can hear him. "Because let's face it. You'll never be able to satisfy her the way I can."

  And that's when Jake rears back and clocks him one, sending Scott sprawling to the floor.

  A gasp goes up from many of the women at the party, including myself, because I can't believe that Jake actually hit him.

  "Scott!" I cry out, rushing to his side while Jake just stands there shaking out his fist.

  But Scott doesn't move.

  Some of the Kings step forward, ready to break it up, as I cradle Scott's head in my lap and glare up at Jake.

  "You didn't have to do that, you know. I can take care of myself." I look down, anxiously stroking Scott's brow.

  Jake glowers at me. "He shouldn't have done that."

  My face gets hot because I liked what Scott was doing to me— really liked it.

  "He's my boyfriend, all right. It's not for you to decide," I argue back.

  Thank God Scott didn't hear that, even if everyone else did.

  Jake stands there, momentarily stunned by my response.

  "Lemme at 'em," Scott moans groggily, coming around.

  "Scott!" I cry, running my hand down his face. "Shhh, don't talk."

  I can't believe I just said that. It's not like Scott and I have openly discussed our relationship status, but the stress of the moment must've brought it out of me. I care about him. I really do. I consider him to be my boyfriend even if I don't know for su
re how he feels about me.

  Jake mutters something unintelligible under his breath, and Scott tries to sit up.

  "Don't move," I scold him, yet he continues to struggle to his feet. "Scott, please. Stay down."

  Scott staggers, and I do my best to hold on to him, grabbing the back of his pants. He nestles his head against my chest as he starts to sink to the floor again.

  I glance at Jake. "Call an ambulance!"

  "I don't need an ambulance," Scott protests, blinking up at me, sounding more like himself. "I'm fine."

  "He's all right," Jake insists, running his hands over his head. "I did this. I take full responsibility." He reaches down and quickly pulls Scott to his feet before I can say a word. "I'll take him back to the hotel, and one of the trainers can take a look at him. Scott doesn't need any more bad publicity by going to a hospital. I'm sorry, Carrie. I thought…" He sighs, seeing how all of his teammates are staring at him with a mixture of bewilderment and consternation on their faces. "Never mind what I thought…"

  "But, Jake, what if he needs to see a doctor?" I ask, draping Scott's other arm around my neck in order to help Jake get him out of here.

  "His feet are moving, aren't they?" Jake grumbles as we move past everybody and head toward the door. "He's not that bad if he can walk."

  "C'mon, Jake. Quit being so hard on him. What if he's really hurt?" I mutter as Scott rests his head on my shoulder.

  "Looks like you could use some assistance," Jilly states, stepping forward, the combination of his rich, deep baritone and kind, amber eyes soothing my jangled nerves.

  "No, Jilly," Scott speaks up as we reach the foyer. "I don't need your help 'cause I ain't going anywhere."

  But Jake ignores him, addressing Jilly instead. "What about your pitching arm?"

  "I'll use my other one. You take that side. I'll take this one. Ready? And up." Jilly instructs Jake as I slide out from under Scott's arm. Together, the two of them are able to shoulder Scott's weight and lift him off his feet and out the door.

  "You are not carrying me out of here," Scott protests.

  "Hush," I urge, placing my hand on the back of his neck and following them outside onto the driveway.