The Heart Of The Game

by Pamela Aares

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “But tempting people may truly be my strongest suit.”

  Parker’s playful spirit was irresistible.

  “I happen to be immune to temptation,” she said with the first laugh of the day that didn’t feel forced.

  The corner of his lips lifted. “We’ll see about that.” He crooked his arm, and she slid her hand to his elbow and let him lead her to the table.

  “I deliver to you one lady in need of diversion,” he said with a comical bow.

  Heat crept into her cheeks.

  Cody stood and pulled the chair beside him out for her. Perhaps she was imagining things but as he smiled at her, she felt that a bridge of light shot out from him. A bridge that some part of her wanted to walk across so she could enter the mysterious promise his energy seemed to conjure.

  “Aren’t we all?” Anastasia said from her place across the table. She lifted a flute of sparkling champagne and held it out toward Zoe. “To diversion.”

  “I believe my work here is done,” Parker whispered to Zoe before he stepped away, grinning.

  Zoe raised her glass, acknowledging Anastasia’s toast.

  Cody leaned in and clinked his water glass against her champagne flute. “To diversion, then,” he said with a sexy smile that shouldn’t have stunned her.

  Her hands trembled as she lowered her eyes and set the champagne flute on the table. Her tumultuous feelings during the wedding had cemented her resolve to return to Italy, open the gallery in honor of her mother and get back to her life in Rome. Diversion was the very last thing she needed. She didn’t want to do anything that would make it harder to stick to her plan. She scooted her chair a couple of centimeters from Cody’s, fussing at her dress as if to excuse the movement. But her hand brushed his, and she froze midmotion.

  There was no way to explain away the power she felt when she touched him. Just looking at him sent energy rushing through her, into places in her body—in her being—that she’d only been dimly aware of before meeting him. But touching him ratcheted the euphoric and scary feelings a hundredfold. In no way did such a power have anything to do with having a fling, she knew that. A fling by definition didn’t connect two people with the depth she already felt when she was anywhere near him.

  She lifted her hand from the chair and avoided looking at him. Needing something to do with her hands, she toyed with her place card.

  Rehearse the facts.

  Fact number one: She was returning to Italy as soon as she felt that her father had come through his grief enough to be stable and settled.

  Fact number two: Cody Bond was a ballplayer. A baseball player. Last she checked, they didn’t play baseball in Italy. There’d be no possible future with such a man.

  Fact number three: A fling would be a disaster. Even putting one toe into the pool of energy she felt when she was around him would dissolve the barely functional web she’d secured around her heart.

  No, she wasn’t signing up for intentional heartbreak.

  A gentle nudge to her elbow had her lifting her head. When she met the questioning look in Cody’s eyes, she knew she’d already taken a few too many steps onto the bridge she’d imagined arcing between them.

  Then he smiled and the line between imagination and reality blurred beyond recognition.

  “Would you like some olive oil for your bread?” Cody repeated his question for the second time as he held out the carafe to Zoe. Her eyes focused on his, like a person awakening slowly from a dream. He would’ve liked to know what dream played out behind her emerald-green eyes.

  “Oh.” She reached for the carafe, intensely careful not to touch his fingers. “I mean, yes. Thank you.”

  The soft purr of her Italian-accented English slid into him, pooling, spreading like the gold-green oil she poured into the dish at the side of her plate.

  “Did I miss anything?” Alex asked as he approached their table. He nodded to Cody and then kissed Zoe’s cheek before slipping into the chair to her left.

  “Apparently your wife,” Jake Ryder, the Giants’ third baseman, said in his soft Southern drawl from across the table. “Where’s Jackie?”

  “Hawaii,” the man seated next to Alex said as he chewed a mouthful of bread. Cody recognized his accent as Canadian. “There’s a big stranding event on the south shore of the Big Island.” The man waved the chunk of bread he held. “Ocean disasters don’t care about our plans to party.” He washed the bread down with a gulp of champagne. “I wanted them to send me—not that I would’ve wanted to miss all this—but they wanted number one.” He stood, wiped his palm along the hip of his pants and reached across Alex to shake Zoe’s hand. “I’m Gage Esmonde. I’m Alex’s date.”

  “Otherwise known as the best emergency marine mammal vet in the country,” Ryan Rea said as he joined them at the table. “And Jackie’s right-hand man.”

  “I thought I filled that position,” Alex said teasingly.

  “Not until you can anesthetize a six-hundred-pound bull in less than a minute,” Gage said with a snicker.

  “Cody Bond.” Cody shook Gage’s outstretched hand. “Six hundred pounds is pretty light for a bull.”

  “Bull sea lion.” Gage quirked his brows and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I heard you ride bulls.” He looked to Zoe. “Stay away from him. He’s crazy. Anybody who voluntarily gets on top of a two-ton animal that’s trained to bolt you off its back in less than ten seconds has to be nuts.”

  “This from a guy who lost two front teeth from taking a hockey puck in the face?” Alex laughed.

  “Eight seconds is all a rider has to stay on,” Cody corrected, relieved to have the conversation take his mind off the desire to touch Zoe. “And I rode broncs mostly. Past tense.”

  The high squeal of a toddler announced the arrival of Ryan’s wife, Cara, and their son. Ryan had befriended Cody the day he’d been called up, and Cody had spent time out at their spread in the hills. Little Casey was a clubhouse favorite on those days Cara took him to the stadium.

  Cara introduced herself to Zoe and then brushed an air kiss to Cody’s cheek. “Where’ve you been? Ryan has the batting cage set up for a derby.”

  “Well, maybe not a derby, but close to it,” Ryan said as he maneuvered Casey into a high chair. “Someone has to give Tavonesi here a challenge.” He jockeyed the high chair between himself and Gage. “Hope you’re up for some mess and noise.”

  “Best part of my job,” Gage said. But as Gage eyed the squirming toddler, Cody wasn’t so sure he was telling the truth.

  Alex introduced Jake to Zoe. The chair to Jake’s right was still vacant.

  Zoe’s sister Anastasia nodded to the empty chair. “Coco’s still shooting photos.”

  “Your sister is intense,” Alex said. “I thought she’d have us in there all night.”

  “She gets great shots,” Zoe said.

  Cody heard an undercurrent of defensiveness in Zoe’s voice.

  “Elope,” Alex said to Cody. “It’s the only sane solution to all this madness.”

  But as waiters served the meal and friendly banter boomeranged around the table, madness wasn’t the word Cody would’ve used to describe the experience. Still, it might have described his own state of mind. Though he registered the sounds in the room and tracked the conversations, he was intensely focused on Zoe’s every word and movement.

  She made soft sounds under her breath as if an undercurrent of bubbling thoughts refused to speak boldly. At one point her arm brushed his, and Cody felt a distinct spark flash through him. Or maybe he was totally losing it. He resisted his urge to reach out and touch her just to see if what he’d felt was real.

  When Gage offered to feed Casey so that Cara and Ryan could eat a bit of their own meals, he watched Zoe’s face. She was definitely one of those women who loved children.

  Gage, to his credit, was attempting to make a game out of getting food into the toddler. But Casey gripped the spoon with his front teeth, his
eyes full of triumph. Food spilled down his chin and onto Gage’s hand.

  “Oh God,” Cara said, making a move to take over. Gage waved her back to her meal.

  “I’ve got this.” Gage cracked a grin. “Way easier than feeding elephant seals.”

  “Do not tell Jackie that,” Alex said. “I’m not ready to tackle fatherhood quite yet.”

  “Okay, everyone, heads up,” a young woman said as she aimed a camera at the group around the table. She snapped a picture and then motioned to Zoe. “Lean closer to Colby,” she said as she raised her camera.

  “It’s Cody.” Zoe turned to him. “Meet Coco—she’s the bossy sister,” she said, following her sister’s instruction and moving toward him. Zoe’s shoulder touched his. And she stiffened. Not the reaction he might’ve hoped for given the stiffening in one part of his body he was glad was hidden by the draping tablecloth.

  “Closer,” Coco commanded, not looking out from behind her camera.

  Zoe inched closer and then turned to him. Her gaze locked to his and her pupils dilated. The almost imperceptible signal told him that she too felt the energy between them.

  “For goodness’ sake,” Coco said, waving her camera at them. “At least smile. And look at me. This is a wedding photo, not a passport shot. And move your heads closer together.” She waved her hand, pointing. “Alex, you get in this one too.”

  Zoe didn’t move, but Cody couldn’t resist leaning closer. She smelled like late-spring honeysuckle warmed by the sun. Or maybe roses. He wrapped his arm around the back of her chair, careful not to touch her too much, but just enough to feel the warmth of her through the fabric of his jacket sleeve. Hell, he felt the warmth of her clear through his body.

  “Make this the last one, Coco,” Alex said as he moved closer in on Zoe’s left. “You’ll have stolen all of my soul at this point.”

  “That’s an old wives’ tale,” Coco said from behind her lens. “Besides, baseball has your soul, dear cousin. Or maybe Jackie does. You can’t blame losing it on me.” She waved her hand. “Zoe, smile, would you?”

  Cody kept his eyes toward the camera. He might be crazy after all, because he swore he could feel Zoe smile. Feel it—like the sun coming out from behind a cloud and lighting everything it touched.

  “Much better,” Coco said, adjusting her zoom and angling her camera. And then she went still. She lowered the camera and looked straight at Cody. She stared for the briefest moment and then turned to Zoe. A look that Cody couldn’t decipher passed between the sisters.

  “My turn,” Zoe said, pulling away from the pose she’d held between him and Alex. She held out her hands. “Pass me that camera.”

  Jake took the camera from Coco and handed it over to Ryan. Gage brandished his baby-food-covered fingers, and Ryan wisely stood and walked the camera around the table to Zoe.

  She clicked off a couple of shots. “Now, sorellina, let’s see your soul. Jake, Ryan, lean in toward Coco.”

  Coco grimaced and then shot an exaggerated smile at her sister. She had the same dark hair Zoe had, but her brown eyes gave her an innocent, doe-like look. Yet when Coco glanced to her left and met Jake’s gaze, Cody saw something that caught his attention. A month ago he wouldn’t have recognized the signs that conveyed the energy arcing between Jake and Coco. But he knew those signs now.

  Zoe clicked off a few more shots.

  “Enough,” Coco said, pulling away from the pose and shaking her head like a cat shaking off an unwanted stroke of affection.

  Jake crossed his arms and looked down at his plate. Coco’s evident effect on Jake shouldn’t have made Cody feel better, but seeing that he wasn’t the only man in the room navigating the powerful, sensual energy that the Tavonesi sisters triggered at least told him he wasn’t imagining things.

  Like Cody, Jake kept to himself. He was a great team player, but off the field he was quiet, almost shy. Except when he partied. Then he was a wild man. The first week he’d been called up, Cody had toured some of the downtown bars with Jake. But the late nights dulled his edge and before the end of the week, Cody had begged out of the carousing. Partying and running around worked fine in the first couple of months, but after nearly 140 games in the minors—and a move to the majors—recreation took a back seat to performance on the field.

  But they weren’t playing now.

  And if he wasn’t mistaken, Jake had a damned good opportunity for a date sitting right beside him.

  Zoe lifted her champagne flute and held it out for a passing waiter to fill. “Thank goodness they’re skipping all the formal dancing rituals. I’ll get to eat,” she said as she sipped.

  Cody wasn’t sure what she meant, but it occurred to him that he would like to dance with her. To hold her close, if only for one dance. To see if the mysterious power he was beginning to crave would hold up for longer than the length of a glance or a fleeting touch.

  Waiters delivered plates of grilled salmon and roasted vegetables. One thing he loved about living in the Bay Area was the fresh fish. An arm jostled him just as he was about to dig in.

  “There you are,” a deep baritone voice said. Cody looked up just as Zoe’s dad leaned down to brush a kiss to her cheek.

  Zoe lifted her hand and covered her dad’s where it rested on her shoulder. “I thought you’d abandoned us, Papa.”

  “Never.” Santino Tavonesi glanced around the table, eyes only for his daughters. “I came to make sure you girls save me a dance.”

  “As you can see, you may have competition,” Coco said in a laughing voice from across the table.

  “I’m claiming family rights,” Santino answered. His tone was light, but his eyes weren’t smiling.

  “Be careful what you promise family,” Alex said with a wink to Zoe.

  “Are you provoking revolution among my offspring?”

  “Hardly necessary,” Alex said with a laugh.

  The affectionate family banter, so foreign to his own experience, lit a pang of envy in Cody’s belly. Put his dad and siblings around a table and there’d be explosions of long-held anger at worst or coolness at best.

  But as Alex introduced Santino around the table, Cody watched Santino’s eyes. He sensed tension lurking below the surface of the man’s nods and smiles. Zoe watched her dad too. From the way she held her body, it seemed to Cody as if she was looking for something, something she feared.

  Zoe was quiet after Santino left. She toyed with the plate of fruit and cheese a waiter placed in front of her. His brain said don’t, but he had to ask. The driving desire to connect with her was a force his rational mind couldn’t hold back. Just as he opened his mouth, Coco rose from her chair.

  “Dance! I’ve been fed and watered—well, champagned... Is that a word?” She giggled. “Anyway, now we must dance!” She rounded the table and tugged at Gage. “You are the chosen one.”

  Gage blushed but took Coco’s outstretched hand and followed her from the table.

  The hell with questions, Cody decided. He’d much rather have Zoe in his arms.

  “Dance?” he said, turning to her.

  She winced. Not the reaction he was hoping for.

  “I’m a terrible dancer.” She didn’t move from her chair, but unless he was mistaken, the rhythm of the music already danced in her.

  “Doesn’t matter, so am I,” he lied.

  When she nodded, he felt that he’d been given the keys to the kingdom. But seeing her apprehension, he didn’t offer his hand as she rose from the chair. He could take it slow. Years of practice reading people and responding to cues and signals told him he’d better go in easy.

  But as they walked side by side, weaving their way through the throng of guests and out into the festively lit courtyard, his driving desire to kiss her was nearly impossible to hold back. Going in easy might not be so easy after all.

  The steady rhythm of a popular remix flowed through Zoe as she and Cody reached the dance floor. Move. The word whispered in her, beckoning. Dance. Moving her body usually f
reed her from any mood holding her in its grip. But as they found a space at the edge of the throng of dancing couples and she looked up at Cody, it wasn’t the music that captured her. His confounding half smile held her as she began to sway her hips.

  “I’m better at cowboy line dances,” he said over the beat of the music.

  The man could move.

  She hadn’t expected that such a big, muscled man could move his body as he did. There was a raucous energy to his movement, unlike what she’d seen from the quiet, almost formal man before. Perhaps this was the man who rode broncs and bulls, the man under the mask of calm control that she’d sensed from their very first touch.

  With a mind of its own, her body began to mirror his movements and energy, and soon they were communicating in the ancient, wordless language of dance.

  Zoe raised her arms and felt that she could fly. What was it about him that shot life into the shut-down places inside her, that awakened a hungry desire to reclaim her former happy self and soar? It wasn’t just handsome good looks. God knew she’d dated plenty of good-looking men and they’d never made her feel like Cody did. Entranced by his smile and lifted by the music, the movement, the lights twinkling in the trees, and the balmy evening breeze, she floated, allowing words and thoughts to melt away. She couldn’t deny it—she was completely captivated by the man dancing beside her.

  He lifted his hand in a stopping motion. Maybe she was developing a hand fetish, but Cody had hands that she’d already imagined roaming every inch of her body. And she was imagining their touch again now.

  “Hold on a minute.” He left her on the dance floor. Her eyes tracked his long strides to the stone wall nearby. He removed his jacket, then rolled up his sleeves as he returned to her side.

  “Time to get serious,” he said with a laugh that slithered into her core.