by Roz Lee
Shit.
Chapter Nine
Two months earlier - September 25th
Jake turned off his cell phone. He’d made sure the house in Colorado would be fit to live in when he arrived. The couple he paid to watch it for him was always easy about his uncertain arrival dates. As long as he gave them a heads-up a few weeks in advance, they’d sweep the cobwebs out, have the chimneys cleaned, as well as make sure the appliances were in working order. This year, he asked them to order more firewood. The stack had been getting low when he’d left in February.
There wasn’t much he liked more than a real wood fire in the fireplace. His house in Dallas had a fake fireplace. Who’d ever heard of a remote control fire? It was useless for anything but looking at. Might as well have one of those TV screensavers of a burning fireplace.
Everything was set. All he needed to do was get through the post-season then he’d get to go home to the love of his life.
The Mustangs team looked good on paper, but they’d lost one good man in the lineup when Sean Flannery took his swan dive into the dugout late in the season. His replacement, a kid brought up from the minors, was eager to prove himself, which was the rookie’s main problem. He was too eager. So far, nothing Jake told him about having patience when he was at the plate had sunk in. He’d seen it a million times but, just once, he wished for a rookie who’d been broken to the saddle before they trotted him out for the show.
After a quick change into his uniform, he stepped out of his office. A crowd of players in their warm-up uniforms blocked the hallway leading to the dugout. They all laughed together over something he was too far away to hear. He smiled. As part of the coaching staff, his responsibility, as he saw it, was to keep moral up. A team in good spirits generally played better than if the mood was somber. As he got closer, he began to pick out individual voices. The usual suspects were in attendance—the jokesters of the roster plus a few others he trusted to keep things from getting out of hand. Jason Holder was as nice a guy as they came, but a stickler for the rules. Singling his voice out, even before he could see his head in the crowd, Jake knew the gathering was under control.
He approached, hoping to skirt the group without anyone noticing. No need for him to put an end to their fun. Jason would see they all made it out to the field on time.
“Thanks for all your help.” A voice from the center of the crowd stopped Jake. His pulse kicked up, his dick following suit. Siobhan. What’s she doing here?
“I’ve got to get back up to our box before Sean sends a search party out for me. Can’t have him ruining the surprise.”
Surprise? Oh yeah. The pre-game program.
The players filed away, each one calling out his best wishes until only the two people in the center remained. Jason Holder and Siobhan Flannery.
“You know your way out?” Jason asked her.
“I’ll make sure she gets back where she needs to be.” He stepped forward, addressing Jason. “If anyone is looking for me, tell them I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Sure thing.” Jason waved goodbye to Siobhan as he headed toward the dugout.
“Everything is set?” Jake asked since his brain wasn’t capable of coming up with anything cleverer. He’d heard talk about today’s opening ceremonies and the tribute to her brother’s years in the game. Since the Mustangs were playing the Pioneers—the team Sean had played for the longest during his career—the timing seemed logical. It was Siobhan’s job to get her brother down to the field at the appropriate time. Nothing like throwing a surprise party with forty thousand guests.
“I think so.” She turned, heading toward the bank of elevators that would take her back up to the owner’s box. “Sean was excited about coming to the stadium, but I don’t think he has a clue he’s the pre-game entertainment.”
Jake fell into step with her. “Your brother deserves the recognition. He’s made a real contribution over the years.”
She pushed the elevator call button before turning to smile at him. “Thanks, Jake. Leaving baseball has been difficult for him, even with the broadcasting job he’s lined up. I think he would rather have left because he was too old to play.”
“That’s the way we all want to go out. I know how he feels. My knees gave out long before I was ready to hang it up.”
Sympathy softened her gaze. “I didn’t know.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I found a way to stay in the game. It sounds as if Sean has, too. I’d be happy to talk to him, if you think it might help.”
“I appreciate your offer, Jake. I’ll let you know if he starts to feel sorry for himself.” She placed her palm over his cheek. “You’re a good man.”
Her flowery scent was such a contrast to the stale sweat odor permeating everything in the clubhouse, he yearned to get closer. She was so good—literally a breath of fresh air.
“I admire your dedication to your brother,” he said.
Their gazes locked. He’d seen that look in her eyes every time he’d taken her to his bed—invitation, longing. The elevator dinged its arrival. She stepped away, taking her hand with her. When the doors opened, he followed her into the small cubicle.
She pressed a button on the control panel. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”
“Probably.” He couldn’t remember. All he knew was he needed to be here, with her. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”
Her eyes widened as he advanced on her. The clipboard he’d been holding like a lifeline dropped to the floor. One hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her lower body against his while the other captured her nape. Her lips parted on a surprised gasp. Taking that as an invitation, he swooped in. Her eyes zeroed in on his mouth—her lashes fanning across her cheeks as he closed the distance between them.
Electricity sparked when their bodies met, setting fire to his blood. God, she tasted even better than she smelled. He couldn’t get enough of her, and Lord, he’d tried over the last few weeks.
She melted against him for the few seconds it took for the car to rise to her floor. When it jolted to a stop, he quickly reached out, jabbing his finger against the button to keep the doors from opening. They both needed a minute to recover.
His dick was at full attention. Her lips were the tantalizing color of ripe plums. He briefly considered dragging her off somewhere to finish what he’d begun, but reason prevailed. The memory of the flush he’d put on her cheeks would have to do for until he could finish what he’d started. This was not the time or the place for the kind of things running through his mind.
“Tonight.”
She nodded, straightening her clothes. “Yes.”
Releasing the button, he reclaimed his clipboard, putting a respectable distance between them just as the doors opened. She stepped out without so much as a backward glance, her perfect round ass swaying with each step.
Shit. Every time he was with her, he swore to himself it would be the last. He should have let her go after their first night, but when he heard her crying in the bathroom, he’d known he couldn’t let her leave believing he was an ass—even if it was true. For some reason, he wanted her to think better of him. He’d patiently coaxed her out and taken her back to bed, where he’d spent the rest of the evening trying to undo the damage he’d done.
He hadn’t been entirely successful. Though she’d come to his bed every night the team was in town since that first time, he sensed she came for the physical gratification alone. That first night, she’d gotten under his skin with her openness, her need to be with him. He’d wanted sex with a woman he desired but, with Siobhan, the physical connection had been only a small part of what he’d felt. She’d broken down the barriers he’d spent years building, and in the seconds it took him to put the barriers back up, she’d seen too much.
It scared the hell out of him to think he’d allowed her to get so close. He’d spent two decades fortifying his defenses, but the minute he’d dipped his dick in Siobhan’s heat, the walls around his heart began to c
rumble.
The breakdown lasted a few seconds, at most, before he’d shut her out. She was different from any female he’d ever been with. She made him want something beyond the season. But that wouldn’t happen. He’d known since he signed his first Minor League contract he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy.
Mercy! If she wasn’t careful, the fire Jake stoked in her would consume her. She’d managed to get through the opening ceremonies, pulling off the surprise for her brother completely. He hadn’t suspected a thing until the last minute when she’d had to tell him what was going on in order to get him into the elevator.
The large contingent that accompanied them to the suite was doing serious damage to the buffet and open bar at the back of the room, which left her alone to watch the game, which also meant she had plenty of time to contemplate the mess she’d gotten herself into.
She continued to tell herself there was nothing more than sex between her and Jake, but it hadn’t been the truth from the beginning. Whatever they had, it had flared bright for all of two seconds before Jake brought the shutters down on it. Those two seconds changed her life. She’d seen what a real relationship could be.
Her heart still ached at the memory of how much it hurt when he’d shut her out. Sitting on his bathroom floor, she’d thought she might die from the pain. She should have demanded he take her home instead of crawling back into his bed, but she’d hoped he would open up to her again—let her see what he was feeling one more time.
Stupid. He’d had decades to practice hiding his feelings. Taking a page from his book, she put walls around the love growing inside her, so he wouldn’t see while she gave her body to him. He was a skilled lover, just as she’d imagined he would be. What she learned in his bed was already making a difference in her writing.
You wanted to spice up your bedroom scenes. You should be grateful for the lessons.
She was grateful, but as each day passed, she worried the price she would have to pay for her tutoring would be higher than she could ever have imagined.
He’ll discard you as soon as the season is over.
Sean had warned her. At the time, a few months of wild, wicked sex with Jake, no strings or rings attached, had been exactly what she was looking for.
A large hand on her shoulder startled her. “Everything all right?” Sean dropped into the seat beside her, propping his booted feet on the low, glass-topped wall. He handed her one of the two beer bottles he carried.
She smiled to hide her inner turmoil. “I’m fine. The game is going well.”
“Yep. Looks like.”
“Are you okay? I can’t imagine what it’s like for you to watch this instead of play.”
He took a long swig from his beer. “Better than I thought I would be. I knew I wasn’t going back to baseball, but the pre-game thing really hammered it home for me. I was pissed at first that the ceremony was sprung on me like it was, but if I’d known about it beforehand, I probably would have refused to come. That would have been a shame. I needed the closure, and I didn’t even know it.”
“I’m glad it worked out. I felt awful about not telling you.”
“I hope you lost sleep over it.” He smiled. “Don’t think I’ll forget either.”
“You mean it, don’t you? You are ready to move on.”
“Darn right he is.” Bentley Randolph’s fiancée, Ashley, shuffled into the row of seats behind them. She’d been part of the ceremony earlier, introducing Sean as the new anchor for the syndicated sports talk show, Around the League. “The network has big plans for your brother.”
“I wasn’t so sure the plans he’d made were right for him,” Siobhan told the other woman, “but it looks like he’s going to be fine. The best thing about his new job is he won’t be breaking any more bones. I think he might have reached the limit on reconstructive surgery.”
“Amen to that,” Sean said. “At the rate I was injuring myself, I was going to be a cripple in another year or two. As long as I don’t fall out of my chair on set, I should be able to walk myself into a nursing home in about fifty years or so.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Ashley leaned forward. “How’s our boy doing?” she asked Sean, referring to the man they both loved, Bentley Randolph, the Mustangs left fielder.
“I haven’t seen much of the game yet.” He pointed toward the Mustangs dugout. “He looks fine though.”
Siobhan looked toward the dugout. Bentley stood on the steps, one foot on the tread above the other, his bat in one hand, helmet in the other.
“Yum yum,” Ashley said. “He looks good enough to eat.”
“He always does,” her brother mumbled, so only the three of them could hear.
The two of them continued to exchange inappropriate comments regarding their lover. They could drool all they wanted over Bentley, her eyes were for the man who had joined him. Jake, clipboard in hand, was imparting some kind of information to the left fielder before he made his way to the on-deck circle.
Standing in the dugout during the pre-game ceremonies, watching Sean’s friends on both teams congratulate him on his career, wishing him well in the future, she’d been aware of Jake’s perusal. The kiss in the elevator had been risky—not to mention, he was supposed to have been on the field, making sure the Mustangs were all in top form for the game.
What had it meant? It was an unspoken rule that their affair was private. They didn’t go around in public at all. She supposed the fewer people who knew about a relationship, the easier it would be to end it. There’d be no explanations needed to the press or mutual friends. Sean would be the least surprised.
That left Bent and Ashley. Bent wouldn’t be any more surprised than Sean Ashley would be sympathetic, but she had her hands full planning her wedding. She wouldn’t want to dwell on Siobhan’s pathetic love life any longer than necessary.
On the field, Bentley took his turn at bat. Whatever Jake had told him to do, it worked. He connected with the second pitch, sending the ball over the left field wall for a two-run homer. Siobhan jumped to her feet, shouting along with everyone else in the box. The Mustangs needed to win this series in order to continue in the playoffs. If she had her way about it, they’d make it all the way to the World Series, preferably dragging it out to the seventh game. She wanted every minute she could get with Jake before he disappeared to wherever it was he went during the off-season.
Chapter Ten
Present - December 8th
He’d lain awake the night before, trying to devise a plan of his own to get past the barriers Siobhan had put up, but as he stood in the crowded terminal at DFW, watching the people on the descending escalator, he knew he was up the proverbial creek without a paddle. He had nothing. Nada. Zip.
After a week of being summarily told to go back to the rock he’d climbed out from under, he had to admit, Kelly might be his best, if not his only, chance. He still couldn’t think of his daughter as grown up, and he damned sure didn’t want to dwell on the fact she might have more in common with the woman he loved than he did. But, again, he knew when he was defeated. Kelly was right. It was time to call the bullpen.
A new throng of travelers discharged from the upper floor of the terminal into the crowd of people waiting for friends and loved ones. He didn’t want to contemplate what the last minute ticket had cost him, but as soon as he saw his daughter’s face, he knew the purchase was worth it.
Tears distorted his vision as she ran to where he waited. “God, I’ve missed you.” He wrapped her in his arms. The top of her head fit under his chin. When had she gotten so tall? Even through the layers of clothes, it was obvious she wasn’t the little girl he wanted to believe she was. She’d grown up when he wasn’t looking.
“I missed you, too.” Grabbing him by the hand, she tugged him toward the baggage carousel. “Let’s get my stuff. I’ll tell you my plan on the way to your house.”
His house. Not home. She’d never been to the residence he kept in Dallas. It was little more than a s
topping off place for him during the season. Since Kelly’s mother preferred her daughter lead a stable life, he’d gone to see her when he could, instead of her coming to him. Very few people in the League even knew he had a daughter. His private life was just that—private.
He pushed the cart loaded down with luggage across the busy traffic lanes to the parking garage. “Are you visiting or moving in?” he asked, cramming the extra bags that wouldn’t fit in the sports car’s miniature trunk into the backseat.
“Visiting. But you never know. It might take a while to resolve this thing with Siobhan. If my plan works, I’ll be out of your hair next week.”
She didn’t have to fill in the blanks. If her plan didn’t work, she was prepared to lay siege to his love life, using his house as her base camp for the duration.
“So, tell me about this idea of yours.” He cranked the ignition. Stalling for time, he adjusted the vents to warm her side of the car, too, figuring he’d be better off hearing her plan while the vehicle was safely parked.
“Okay.” She turned sideways in the seat, tucking her left leg under her right. Her eyes sparkled with purpose—a sure sign she was hell bent on carrying out her scheme. He’d seen the look before. “Siobhan loves you, but you fu…screwed up, so now she says she hates you.”
He sighed, scanned the parking lot rather than let her see how much her blunt recap hurt. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“It’s simple, really. All you have to do is make her jealous. Show up at this dinner thing, ball, whatever, with another woman. Act like you got the message. Make her think you’ve moved on.”
Terror struck him right in the heart. No way was he going to ask another woman to the Crystal Ball. He’d go alone or not at all before he’d ask someone else. A date to an event of that caliber came with expectations afterward.
“No way in hell.” He put the car in reverse. “I’m not taking some random date to the ball in order to make Siobhan jealous.”