The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

by Samantha Christy

  He eyes me over the rim of his wine glass. When he puts it down, I give him a refill.

  “We’re doing a photo shoot at the gym this week,” he says. “You should come.”

  “We’ll see. I might be busy with a client.”

  “Are you afraid to see me with my shirt off?” he teases.

  “Why would you have your shirt off? Aren’t you trying to sell clothing?”

  He laughs. “Yes, we are, but sex sells, Ry. Surely you’ve seen the posters they did from the last shoot. Murphy will have more clothes on than I will, but they’ll have her looking pretty damn good, too. Some of those workout clothes for chicks barely cover anything.”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve seen some of the so-called workout clothes around the gym. More like pick-up clothes. Of course, they have a full range of clothing in the new line, so some of the outfits are actually functional.

  “What do you do in the photo shoot? I mean, how does it go? I have seen some of the pictures of you guys, they seem pretty racy.”

  He smiles at me. “You’re not jealous that Murphy gets to touch me and you don’t, are you?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. Besides, I get to touch you three times a week now.”

  He smiles bigger. “That you do. And I look forward to every session.”

  “So what time did you say that photo shoot was?”

  He tries not to laugh. I know I’m a petulant fool. And I’m not jealous of Murphy. Okay, maybe I’m a little jealous of her.

  “Ten o’clock on Friday.”

  I frown. I know I’ll have a client then.

  “Nana’s sleepy,” Stryker says, walking back into the dining room.

  We get up to see she’s fallen asleep on the couch. “I should go,” Brady says. “Thank you for a nice dinner.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” I turn to my son. “I’ll be back in two minutes, baby.”

  He holds up two fingers.

  “That’s right,” I say, reaching down to kiss them.

  I prop the door open and walk Brady to the elevator. “I hope that wasn’t too terrible,” I say.

  “Not at all. In fact, maybe we could do it again sometime.”

  I furrow my brow. “You want to come to Sunday dinner again?”

  “Sunday, Tuesday, Friday, any time really.”

  I think about what he’s saying. I’m just not sure I’m ready for that. I’m not sure he’s ready for that. “I don’t know.”

  The elevator doors open and I realize at this moment that he pressed the wrong button. As he steps on, I tell him what he’s done. “Brady, it’s going up, not down.”

  “Yeah, I know. I have to go up to get to 16F.”

  The door closes before I can question him, but I don’t miss the devious smile he flashes me.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Apartment 16F?

  That was the one the manager showed me before this one. What the heck? I race back to my apartment and call Murphy.

  “Why did Brady just leave my apartment and go upstairs to the sixteenth floor?”

  “Well, hello to you, too, Rylee. And Brady was at your apartment?”

  “Long story. Why did he go to sixteen, Murphy?”

  “Have you asked him?”

  “No. I have my mom and Stryker here so I couldn’t follow him up.”

  “Did you want to follow him?”

  I stomp my foot. Hard. “You ask too many questions.”

  She laughs into the phone. “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “So you don’t know?”

  “Listen, if you want to go ask him yourself, I can be over there in half an hour. I’ll watch Stryker and your mom.”

  I look at my mom who’s still sleeping on the couch. Then I look at my watch. It’s just after seven. “Can you make it forty-five minutes? That way I can run my mom back to her place first.”

  “See you then.”

  “Thanks, Murphy.”

  “Anytime. I mean it.”

  I wake up Mom, and Stryker and I take her home to the memory care center. We make it back just in time to meet Murphy in the lobby. I don’t even walk them back to my apartment, I give Murphy my key and stay in the elevator.

  “I’ll put him to bed if you’re not home in an hour,” Murphy says with a wink.

  “Ha-ha. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Want to bet?” she asks as the doors close.

  I press sixteen with a shaky finger. Why is he here?

  I knock on his door twice before he answers. “Are you stalking me?” I ask before he even gets the door fully open.

  “I was hoping you’d come up,” he says, opening the door to let me in. “I didn’t know it would take you an hour though. I almost left.”

  I look around the place. There are a few boxes stacked by the kitchen but nothing else. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.”

  “You live here? It doesn’t look like anyone lives here.”

  “Well, I will live here as soon as the movers bring all my stuff next week.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Because I thought it was a nice place. Don’t you think it’s a nice place?”

  “Well, yes. But I happen to know what your current address is, Brady. It’s on your records. And I’m pretty sure this one pales in comparison to your current place.”

  He shakes his head and laughs. “It really does. But here’s the thing – One: I don’t need all that space; and two: this apartment is less than half of what I pay for the other one. Someone once told me to quit spending so much money and save for the future.” He looks at his arm. “Because you never know what could happen.”

  I lean back against the wall. “I’m not worried about your future in baseball. You’ll make it back. I’d bet my job on it.”

  “I’m just glad one of us has confidence in me.”

  I pick up a takeout menu on the bar, wad it up and throw it at him. “You are one of the most confident people I know, Brady Taylor, so don’t give me that crap.”

  He throws the paper back at me. I smooth it out and look at it. “Was this going to be your dinner?”

  “I was moving some personal stuff over that I didn’t want the movers to touch and I thought I’d check out the restaurant next door. Turns out I got upgraded to your mom’s famous lasagna. Far better than Mama Choo’s if you ask me.”

  I look over the menu. “I don’t know, it looks kind of good.”

  “Then maybe we should check it out together,” he says.

  “Why are you really here, Brady? In this building. In my building?”

  “I thought we could, you know … date … or something.”

  “Or something?” I give him a look. “No.”

  I turn around to leave but he grabs my arm. “That’s not what I meant, Ry. I meant we should date. Period. No or something. We should date. You and I should date.”

  I lean back against the wall. “Define date.”

  “Go out to dinner. Maybe the movies. I hear bowling is fun.”

  “You leave in a week, Brady. Your season is starting in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I’ll be home half of every week, Rylee. I’m not leaving for the entire season.”

  There are so many things I want to say to him I just don’t know where to begin. I sigh and try to think of how to tactfully say what I need to say.

  “I know what you’re thinking. I’m the guy with a chick in every city. I’ve changed. I’m not like that anymore.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me.”

  He raises a brow. “Everyone?”

  “Murphy. Caden. My boss. Even Sawyer pulled me aside yesterday and told me what a nice guy you are.”

  “No shit?”

  I nod. “But what does that mean? Have you called all thirty of them and told them not to expect you to bed them when you’re in town?”

  “It’s twenty-seven,” he says. “And I can’t. I don’t have their phone
numbers.”

  I look at him in confusion. “Then how do you meet up with them?”

  He shrugs. “They always find me after the games.”

  “Wow,” I say, shaking my head. “You sure have them trained well, don’t you?”

  “Damn it, Rylee. I know I sound like a misogynist pig, and maybe I was, but I swear I’ve left all that behind.”

  “Why have you left it behind, Brady?”

  He paces over to the balcony door, runs a hand through his hair as he looks out, and then walks back to me. “Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

  “I guess I do. I’m not that bright.”

  He runs a finger down the side of my face. “You’re wrong. You’re brilliant,” he says. He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall next to me. “I’ve never been good with words or feelings. Not in a long time anyway. But you’re different, Rylee. You’re intelligent and fun and despite being pint-sized, you’re strong, both physically and mentally. You call me on my shit. And you’re just so … normal – but don’t take that the wrong way.”

  I try not to smile. “Is that all?”

  “No. You’re damn sexy, too. And one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

  My heart soars and falls at the same time. I know exactly why he didn’t say the most beautiful. And the fact that he didn’t makes me like him even more.

  “But, Brady, there’s one other thing you failed to mention. Before anything else I’m a mom. And I’m also a daughter who is solely responsible for her mother.”

  He nods and takes a deep breath. “I know and I understand they are your priorities. I’m not asking you to marry me, Ry. I’m not even asking to be your number one. I can be your number three. I’m perfectly fine with that.”

  I almost tell him that I can be his number three, too. But I don’t. He still doesn’t know what I know. And I still don’t know if he really has changed like everyone claims.

  “I don’t like to share,” I tell him.

  He turns suddenly and cages me to the wall. “I don’t like to share, either.”

  “But how can I be sure?”

  He knows what I’m asking without me having to say it.

  “Do you want Caden and Sawyer to keep tabs on me when we’re away?”

  I stare at him and realize he’s being totally serious.

  “No … Yes … No. That would be silly and juvenile. But, Brady, I really do mean it when I say I don’t share. It’s a deal breaker for me. I can put up with a lot, maybe even more than most, but cheating is the one thing I can’t forgive.”

  “I can live with that.”

  “Can you? Because I promise you there will be no second chances. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  He gives me a sad smile. “Stryker’s dad?”

  I look out the window.

  He takes my hand in his. “We’ll have a trial run.”

  “A trial run. At dating?”

  “Yeah, what do you say – two months? And if you don’t trust me after that, I’ll leave you alone. Hell, I’ll break my lease and move out.”

  “Two months? You’re willing to go two months without sex? Without sex with anyone? Including me?”

  “What?” He gives me crazy eyes. “I didn’t say that, Ry.”

  I stare him down.

  “Shit, really?” he says.

  “If it’s going to be too hard for you,” I say, ducking under his arm.

  He pulls me back to him. “What’s two more months when I’ve already gone four?”

  My jaw slackens as I look up at him. “You mean to tell me you haven’t had sex since we—”

  “Nope. Not once.”

  “You haven’t dated at all?”

  “Not exactly. I tried. Hell, I tried hard. After I got back from Tampa I took out lots of girls. But I couldn’t bring myself to invite them into my bed. It felt wrong.”

  He laughs at my expression. “Don’t look so surprised. People change, you know.”

  “What happens after two months?” I ask.

  “After two months I can tell everyone you’re my girl.”

  “And Stryker?” I ask apprehensively. “What about him?”

  His eyes close briefly. “You’re a package deal, I get that. I … I’d like to hang out with the both of you sometimes, but I might need to work up to that, Ry. I’m not great with kids as you clearly saw tonight. You might have to be patient with me.”

  I stand and look in wonderment at a man who lost his whole world and is willing to fight his demons to try again. Still, I’m not a big enough fool to think this could end in a happily-ever-after. Few relationships do. But he looks sincere. And I might be willing to risk my heart for a chance.

  “Two months,” I say, pointing a finger at his chest. “And no sex. So don’t even try.”

  He pushes me against the wall and leans down so his lips are inches from mine.

  I’ve dreamed about his lips so many times. I’ve longed for them. I didn’t dare try out any others for fear of nothing measuring up.

  “How about kissing?” he asks, his hot breath dancing across my lips. “Is kissing allowed?”

  He’s so close I can’t speak. He assumes consent in my silence and his lips touch mine. They touch mine gently, like a whisper, and then harder, like a scream. He devours my mouth like he’s never done before. His hands hold my face to his as he tells me more with his kisses than he did with his words. His kisses seduce me. They almost convince me. They nearly destroy me.

  Breathless and languid, I slowly peel myself away from him. I need to be smart about this. He needs to earn his way back into my life.

  “I have to go now,” I say. They are the five hardest words I’ve ever spoken.

  “I know you do.” He walks me to the door. “I’ll see you at the gym. And around the building.”

  I think about what it will be like to have him living so close to me. And then I have a thought when I remember something the building manager said.

  “What about your cars?” I ask. “They only allow one per unit here.”

  “Sold two of them back in January,” he says, kissing me on the head as I leave. “I even got rid of the bike.”

  I smile.

  Maybe he has changed.

  “Be safe,” he says as he walks me down the hall. “Don’t talk to any strangers on the way home.”

  I laugh as I step into the elevator.

  “Mark your calendar,” he says.

  “Mark it for what?”

  “Sixty days from today. I don’t care where the hell we are or what we’re doing – that’s the day.”

  I pink up when I realize he’s scheduling a date for sex.

  “God you’re sexy when you blush.”

  It’s the last thing he says to me before the doors close.

  And before I even say hello to Murphy, I walk to my calendar on the wall and circle June 1st.

  Then I get my phone out and Google the Hawks’ schedule.

  Chapter Thirty

  I don’t know if I’m happy or mad that my ten o’clock appointment got rescheduled. The odds of that being purely a coincidence are very low. It reeks of Brady.

  He’s been giving me some space this week. The only times I’ve seen him were at his three appointments and then again last night, when I ran into him bringing a few more boxes to his new place. But every time I saw him, he mentioned the photo shoot. He wanted to make sure I was going to be there.

  I contemplate skipping the shoot altogether in protest, but after fifteen minutes of brooding in my office, the pull to see what’s happening on the other side of the gym is strong. I walk into the reception area and then back to the part of the gym they’ve cordoned off for the shoot. They’ve erected screens around it so gym patrons can’t see in, and bright lights are reflecting off the ceiling above.

  I approach the entrance to the area and Mason, who appears to be standing guard, waves me by.

  “If you stand over in that corner, yo
u’ll be out of the way,” he says, ushering me past some other people.

  I didn’t really want to be one of the few who are witnessing the shoot, but now I feel obligated to stay, seeing how I’d have to walk by everyone to leave.

  I see Brady standing off to the side as Griffin, one of the other owners of the gym, who is also a big-time photographer, poses Murphy for some photos in front of a weight machine.

  Brady sees me and walks over. “Glad you could stop by.”

  I eye him skeptically. “It’s not like I had a choice or anything.”

  “You always have a choice, Ry.” He winks at me.

  I have a hard time not staring at his chest. He’s wearing nothing but athletic shorts and he’s been sprayed with some kind of oily mixture that makes him look like he’s been working out. There is a fine sheen across his body, and his muscles – oh, my gosh – they are more glorious than I remembered.

  He catches me staring. “They have me pump iron before every set of pictures, it helps my muscles look bigger for a few minutes.”

  “Because they aren’t big enough as it is?” I ask, clearly swooning over his half-nakedness.

  He snickers. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Are you done? Did I miss it?”

  “No, I did my single shots first and now Murphy’s doing hers. When she’s done, he will shoot us together.”

  I stare at Murphy, who’s been made up to look even more beautiful than she already is. It looks like they had her get a spray tan as she’s absolutely glowing. She’s completely in her element. I know she wanted to be a model before her face got damaged. But with makeup, you can barely see her scar and if you can, it makes her look edgy.

  An attractive woman comes up to me. “Are you Rylee?”

  “I am.”

  “I’m Skylar Pearce, Griffin’s wife. Murphy tells me you have a three-year-old son. I wanted to introduce myself and let you know I have two kids myself and would love to get together sometime.”

  “It’s really nice to meet you, Skylar. I would love that. Are you the restaurant manager Murphy told me about?”

  “Yes. I manage my parents’ place, Mitchells NYC. You should come in if you get a chance. We have a great kids menu.”

  “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

  She hands me her card. “I have to get to work, but I wanted to stop by and see the excitement and meet you. Call me and we’ll set something up.”