The Game Changer

by Megan Ryder

  He eyed her warily and peered into the house. “Is Savannah ready?”

  Lucy lifted her leg to block the doorway. “Maybe we should talk first?”

  He couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping, but he strangled it off quickly. No sense making an enemy of her sister before they had even started. “About what? My intentions?”

  Lucy swung her leg around and stood, stiff and at attention, effectively guarding the door, arms crossed, a scowl on her face. “Yes, your intentions. Savannah is a good person and sometimes her judgment can be off. I just want to be sure you’re good enough for her.”

  “Fair enough. What do you want to know?” He mimicked her stance, crossing his arms, but deliberately keeping it relaxed, a small smile playing about his lips.

  She arched her brow. “You planning on staying around? Savannah doesn’t need to be used for a few months then tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage. She’s too good for that. If you’re planning on leaving, then don’t start something here. She cares, sometimes too much. And I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

  “Again?” His brow knitted. “What do you mean again?”

  Savannah strode into view and pushed Lucy aside. “What’s going on, Lucy?”

  Lucy immediately went into lazy, relaxed mode, the change so sudden, Dylan wouldn’t have believed she had been so tense a few short seconds ago. “You know me, sister. Just chatting up your new beau. He’s a cute one.”

  She ran a finger down the center of his chest, tracing the buttons on his black button-down shirt and smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. No, it was a baring of the teeth that reminded him of her warning a few moments prior.

  Savannah slapped her hand away. “Back off, Lu. And clean up in here. You made a mess again.”

  She stepped onto the porch and into the full light of the setting sun and he got his first look at Savannah dressed in something other than shorts and an animal rescue t-shirt and his thoughts scattered. This beat the sexy nurse’s outfit hands down as the sexiest thing he had ever seen her in. She wore a black dress painted onto her curves, stopping a few inches above her knee with lace that made him want to trace with his tongue all the way down to black heels that somehow made her legs look longer and even shapelier. He dragged his eyes up her body and, damn, there was more lace at the top of dress, some embroidery that played peekaboo with her cleavage, teasing him with what lay beneath. Her hair was twisted up in a loose knot, with a few tendrils escaping around her face. He reached out and touched one behind her ear, lightly caressing her cheek as he did so.

  “Damn, Savannah.” He breathed. “You look good enough to eat.”

  She blushed and lowered her eyes, pleasure suffusing her expression. The two other women nodded approvingly, although Lucy was still watching him as if he was about to kidnap her sister. The other woman checked him out frankly, not hiding her study. She pushed a small bag at Savannah who jerked as if surprised.

  “Sorry, oh, Dylan, this is Colleen Hart, the treasurer and partner in my rescue.”

  He smiled and shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Colleen. Any words of warning for me for tonight?”

  The other woman only smiled, eyes twinkling. “I think you know how to be bad all on your own. Have fun and don’t worry about anything.” She gave Savannah a little push then held onto Lucy, as if making sure Lucy didn’t interfere.

  Dylan held out his arm to Savannah, feeling as if a gallant gesture was needed. She laid her hand on his arm, barely looking at him, and they headed out to his SUV, his fingers twining in hers, not wanting to let her go, afraid she would change her mind and bolt back into her house.

  Dylan lead Savannah out of the SUV and handed the keys to a valet. She glanced around, eyes wide, thankful she had asked Colleen for the black dress. The historic district was a place she had always loved to walk around and visit but, since starting the rescue, she’d been too busy to come down here.

  “How did you know I loved the historic district? It’s like the heart of Savannah!”

  He grinned, obviously pleased at her reaction. “Lucky guess.”

  A couple of young fans shyly approached them, asking for autographs. He gave her an apologetic smile but signed the papers for the kids, asking them about sports and themselves. A couple of older guys approached, with baseballs and shirts but they weren’t shy, rather more demanding, as if it were their right to Dylan and his time. Dylan brushed by those guys with barely an apology and draped an arm around her.

  “Gotta go, guys. Next time maybe.”

  “Asshole,” one of them muttered.

  A camera flash caught Dylan and Savannah and he cursed under his breath and he tightened his arm around her, steering her toward the restaurant. “Ignore them.”

  She craned her head behind them. “What was that about?”

  “The older guys just wanted stuff to sell. I don’t mind the kids but I hate the sellers. And the reporters just lurk, hoping to find ballplayers out with girls or screwing around, looking for fodder for the gossip columns.”

  “We’ll be in the papers?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, oddly titillated and somewhat violated at the same time.

  He scowled. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

  She laid a hand on his cheek and turned him toward her and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Don’t let it spoil our night. Okay?”

  He grinned and hauled her close for a deeper kiss. “Fine. But more of that later.”

  The restaurant was a converted old home in the historic district of Savannah, decorated with gentle light to mimic gaslight and accents from a bygone era to enhance the genteel atmosphere. The maître d’ sat them at a table for two next to a large picture window overlooking a beautiful park, the sun setting in the distance. Couples passed by them, hand in hand, just outside their window but somehow, despite being in the fishbowl aspect of a window, Savannah still felt like they were in their own world, isolated from the people around them, enclosed and private. The waiter took their orders and brought them their drinks – a Georgia on My Mind for Savannah and bourbon on the rocks for Dylan. Savannah grabbed her napkin and smoothed it on her lap, looking for something to do. Dylan reached across the table and grasped her other hand in his, a warm, comforting grip, squeezing gently.

  “You okay?”

  She glanced at him. “I’m a little nervous. I don’t know why. It’s not like I don’t know you or anything.”

  He flashed his teeth at her. “I know the feeling. I don’t get to date much either as a ballplayer. We don’t have a lot of free time so dating is often reserved for the off-season. Meeting people can be a challenge.”

  She snorted. “Really? I can’t imagine you having trouble meeting women. Don’t they throw themselves at ballplayers everywhere?”

  “Well, yeah, but who said I wanted to date them?”

  She paused, his words taking the wind right out of her sails. “They could be nice women.”

  He shrugged. “Sure they could or they could be only interested in one thing. Meeting a ballplayer. They think they know who we are based on our baseball cards or what they read in the magazines. They have no clue who we really are and they don’t care.”

  The hint of anger in his voice and the flexing of his fingers around her hand gave her an indication of how much that pissed him off. She softened her grip, letting her thumb softly stroke the back of his hand. “Okay, so then, tell me about Dylan Prosser, something the magazines don’t know.”

  He looked surprised then thoughtful. “Well, I think you know everything there is to know about me. My dad’s a former ballplayer and had high hopes for me. Mom took off with my little sister for the bright lights of Hollywood. You’ve met Lindsey and read about her so you know how that turned out. My whole life is a tabloid news story.”

  “But that’s not you, Dylan. What did you want?”

  He shrugged, as if uncomfortable with the attention. “Honestly, all I ever wanted to do was play baseball. I thi
nk I was born with a glove and ball in my hand. My dad probably brought it to the hospital for me in the birthing room, although I think he was on the road when I was born. Most of my childhood, he was on the road or at the stadium.” His mouth tightened. “Want to know something about me? I swore I would never do to anyone what my dad did to me. I would never subject a family or a wife to a husband or father who was never around. It sucked as a kid growing up. Whenever I had a big game or Lindsey had something at school, dad would promise but we knew he’d never be there.”

  Her heart clenched at the coldness of his voice, the sting in his words. “What about the off-season? Surely, he was around then. He didn’t play year-round, did he?”

  Dylan shrugged and he tugged at his hand, but she wouldn’t let it go, the grimace of remembered pain on his face making her long to stroke away the tension and hurt. “He sometimes played winter ball. To make money for us, he’d say. Maybe that was true; I don’t know. He was drafted pretty high in the first round but he never quite lived up to the expectations. He never got the big money contracts, not that there were many of them back then.”

  “He was trying to provide for you and your sister.”

  He snorted. “We would have preferred some time with our father. He was always looking for the next big contract, the next angle to work. But it never came through for him. I realize now that he was never really a team player, always looking out for himself, even as he told us that we were a team, that the team is all that matters. He was quick to cut the team off when it suited him and focus on his own numbers.”

  She sat back, stunned at the bitterness in his voice. “Wow, Dylan, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  He cracked a half smile, trying to dispel the anger that lurked in his deep brown eyes. “I got over it. Except he keeps calling me, telling me where I should look for my next contract, for my next home.”

  Her fingers paused in their stroking for moment, her blood freezing for an instant at the thought of him moving on.

  When she spoke, she tried to make her words casual and light. “Where do you want to go?”

  He focused on a spot over her right shoulder, at something only he could see. “I’m tired of moving all the time. I want to stay with one team, be the starting catcher for that team and build a rapport with that group. It was a struggle here, especially knowing I was in my last year of the contract and knowing how the Knights have struggled. The first half of the season was difficult, with some of the management issues and we couldn’t avoid it on the field. But we’re hitting our stride. I’m afraid it might be too late for me though.”

  “Have they said they don’t want to re-sign you?”

  He gave a half-shrug. “No one talks contracts while in a pennant race. They want to see how you perform. My agent has been holding out, wanting to see what the off-season might bring. There are possible openings on other teams with good prospects for playoff aspirations.” He turned his focus onto her, his eyes sharpening, a heat entering them where before there had been a cold distance. “But I find Savannah to be more to my liking right now.”

  She blushed at the sensual promise in his gaze and tried to pull her hand away but he flipped his hand and caught her neatly, reversing the tables on her. “Now, tell me, how did your meeting go with your sponsor? Was he open to your plan?”

  Her eyes closed and the disappointment that had been suppressed since that afternoon flooded back. “No, he said we’re too small, not enough prospects for fund-raising. We need more sponsorship and more steady support before he would consider throwing his support behind us. We need more seasoning.”

  The sympathy in his eyes was nearly her undoing and she blinked at the sudden wetness in her eyes. “Stop making me cry. I can’t redo this makeup on my own. I’ll have to call Colleen and that will ruin our date.”

  He grinned. “I thought this wasn’t a date?”

  She huffed. “Oh, come on. Even I know it’s a date.”

  He got serious. “Can I do anything to help?”

  She paused. Here was the perfect opening. She could hear Colleen’s voice in her ear saying go for it, ask him. He offered! She wavered, a part of her wanting to just ask him but she was afraid to hurt him, to take advantage of him like so many other people. In the end, she just couldn’t do it. He had been hurt so much in the past, used by so many people, especially the people closest to him.

  She shook her head. “No, this is something we’ll figure out for ourselves. Thank you.”

  The waiter chose that moment to bring their food and Savannah dove in to the filet mignon without tasting a single bite of it.

  Dylan studied Savannah as they ate, wondering at her preoccupation. She had been quiet throughout dinner since the discussion about her meeting. He had held his breath, waiting for her to ask him for help. He had even offered and he thought for a second that she was going to accept, and he didn’t know how he felt about it. On the one hand, if he could have done something to help her, he would do it in a heartbeat. On the other hand, well, he would hate to think this relationship was all about her looking for someone to help with her rescue. He knew, deep inside, he’d always wonder if she wanted him for her rescue or for himself.

  He wasn’t proud he threw out the question as a challenge and if she had said yes, he would have complied. But a part of him would have stepped back from her and their budding relationship. A part of him would have died a little. When she said no, his heart leapt in his chest and he had to cover his smile with a sip of his bourbon. She hadn’t asked for help but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something. He remembered what Nick and Alex had mentioned during the picnic. The team had an upcoming promotion, Bark in The Park, where fans could bring their dogs to the park. Proceeds often went to an animal charity. Since no one on the team had ties to a specific animal rescue, they might not have picked one for the event this year. He could talk with Stacia about it, see if they could sponsor Soul Paws and Savannah. That should be enough to provide a boost to convince the other sponsors to take a chance on her.

  He nodded to himself. He’d call Stacia Kendall, their head of publicity and promotions, tomorrow and see if he could set something up with her. That would be the perfect solution.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dylan padded down to the kitchen, Sadie on his heels. They had a rare off day and the manager had forbidden anyone from going into the stadium to work out, watch tape, or anything. Dylan could have studied his own tape at home, or gone to the cages or a gym, but he was feeling tired, muscles aching from the long season, and his body craved something more than baseball, more than teammates. For the first time in his long career, he didn’t want the sport, the focus it brought him. Instead, he wanted something so completely wrong for him, at the worst possible time, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her.

  Savannah.

  Last night showed him one thing. He was in way over his head with Savannah, had already broken his cardinal rule of no distractions during the season. Falling in love smashed his rule to bits and he only hoped it wouldn’t destroy his heart too.

  He’d been down that road before, both in school and in professional ball. He’d learned the hard way that women tended to see a ballplayer and dollar signs, not a person. Although, a few of them saw the man and a sexual conquest. His father made sure that Dylan understood the score on the road – play all you want but always suit up and be careful of the users. He had been lucky, steering clear of most of the users. They tended to be easy to spot. But there were the others, women who just couldn’t handle his lifestyle. They were harder to see.

  He had made a mistake once before, in college, senior year. Sara MacAllister. She had been different from the other girls. Quiet, smart, hadn’t even seemed interested in him or anyone else on the team. He had pursued her doggedly after their one psychology class together. He considered it dumb luck they were assigned to the same project team, forced to study and work together for the whole semester until late nights, food runs, a
nd hormones had overcome them both and passions boiled over while studying for midterms. After that, they were almost inseparable. She came to his games wearing a team shirt with his number on it. She spent nights in his apartment and was planning on coming home with him for the summer break. Then she started asking questions about the draft, the salary he could expect. Those were his first warning signs.

  Once he was drafted, Sara said all the right things, seemed happy but didn’t want to take the next step and get engaged, instead she actively avoided the topic, preferring to spend the summer at home with her family instead of on the road with him at Dylan’s first minor league assignment. When he surprised her at the end of the season, she was with someone else and planning to go for her master’s degree in psychology, something she had never mentioned to him. When confronted, she told him the sex was great but she needed more stability or at least more money to make up for the constant travel and absences, and she had no interest in putting her life on hold for anyone, not even him. She needed a man to be there for her, not focused on a game and he was too focused on baseball and not her.

  He learned that day that he would not marry or have any significant relationship until baseball was over. After watching his mother slowly suffocate then run from his father and the life, then Sara, he couldn’t split his attention and do either justice. So, he would focus on one area – baseball – then deal with his personal life later. It was easier, smarter, and infinitely safer.

  Until Savannah.

  Savannah lived life all out there, showing the world everything there was to see about her. If she had a problem, he’d know it. She had passion for her animals, for her rescue, for her people she gathered together like a pack. She was pissed off that her sister had come to stay yet she was giving her a place to stay, protecting her, and making sure she was okay. With Dylan, she bullied him into keeping Sadie and offered to help him out, dropping her own life in an instant to come to his house when Sadie chewed up his couch. No questions asked. No money requested. Nothing asked in return. A novel concept for a guy who was used to people asking and not giving.