Her Homerun Hottie

by Wynter Daniels

  A door clicked open. Heath sat up straighter. When he caught sight of Tori, he drew a sigh of relief.

  Wearing baggy Scooby Doo pajama pants and a tank top with “Ruh-Roh” written across the chest, she was a whole lot more his friend than his fantasy. Until she came closer.

  She didn’t have on a bra, which brought home the term Ruh-Roh for him. He gulped.

  I can do this.

  “I think I got a splinter from the tree house ladder, which is technically your fault. Would you mind? It’s on the bottom, below my big toe.” She handed him a pair of tweezers as she sat on the coffee table, then placed her foot in his lap.

  “My fault, huh?” He was powerless against the smile that curved her lips. And the fact that all his blood had just headed south. He shifted on the seat.

  “You heard me.” She tugged up the leg of her pajamas, revealing a perfectly gorgeous calf. “Wait, let me have some painkiller.” She downed almost an entire glass of wine in a couple sips then let out a loud burp. She giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, that was totally crude. I don’t hold my liquor well, but it’ll help with the pain.”

  “I’ll be gentle.” He skimmed his fingers over her skin until he found the splinter. Her toenails were the color of ripe strawberries and did absolutely nothing lessen how turned on he was. It only took him a moment to pluck the sliver of wood from her skin.

  “Thank you, it already feels better.” She slid onto the couch, then settled her back against him and started the movie.

  She smelled like strawberries and red wine. Everything wonderful and womanly and Tori. Somehow he found her outfit no less sexy than the red negligee he’d imagined. He was a goner. Did she have an inkling what she did to him? Even paying attention to the film was difficult with her silky skin against his arm, and her hair brushing his neck.

  Could she hear his heart pounding? On the screen, Madeline Kahn screamed as Peter Boyle kidnapped her. The actress sang about the sweet mystery of life as Tori stretched out and leaned her head on Heath’s lap.

  His knuckles were white from gripping the arm of the sofa. This was only their first day together. He had to get through the next four without succumbing to his desire. Every time she laughed, he wanted her more. How was that even possible?

  When the movie ended, she picked up their wine glasses and tap-danced her way into the kitchen singing, Puttin’ on the Ritz the way the monster had.

  He didn’t know anyone like her. No one else made him laugh like she did, or touched the places Tori did, deep in his soul. They shared so many inside jokes, so many special memories and always made new ones when they were together. He craved her, not only for the friend she’d always been but for the incredible woman she’d become.

  Following her into the kitchen, he took her arm and spun her around to face him.

  Her red polka dot rubber gloves dripped with soap bubbles. “What? You want to dance?” She took his hand and twirled into his embrace, staring up into his eyes. “Come on.” Pushing out her lower lip in a pout, she batted her lashes at him, and he nearly moaned.

  Instead, he backed away, shaking his head. “You know I’m no good at it.”

  Her eyes widened in question. “Seriously? I thought you were considering accepting an invitation to be on one of those celebrity dance competition shows.”

  Shit, she knew too much about him.

  She took a step toward him. Was that desire he saw in her hooded stare and the sultry tilt of her head?

  God, he needed to touch her, to taste her. And he would. To hell with the consequences.

  Chapter Five

  This was it. The perfect moment for Tori to make her move. She gazed up into Heath’s eyes. They held a new intensity, a question he kept not asking. He smoothed her hair back, and the temperature in the room shot up about a hundred degrees. Could he be thinking about a fling, too? She pulled off her gloves and laid them on the counter.

  They were close enough to kiss. But suddenly Heath took a backward step. “I’m wiped,” he mumbled. “My brain’s still on California time, and it’s after three in the morning for me.”

  Apparently, her instincts were still broken. Uncomfortable heat suffused her face and neck. Just as it had years ago, the last time she’d misread his signals and had attempted to kiss him. Geez, she felt like such an idiot. She wanted to crawl under a rock.

  If Heath desired her, he wouldn’t be talking about going to sleep. She pasted on a smile that she hoped was convincing. “Um, okay. Give me a minute to make up the sofa.” Shaking off her confusion, she hurried from the room and grabbed bedding from the linen closet. When she returned to the living room, Heath was sitting on the wingback chair with his chin in his hand.

  “I’ve got it.” When he took the linens from her, their fingers brushed, and for a long heartbeat, they just stared at each other. The air between them crackled with electricity. Finally, he dropped her gaze, turned around, and set the sheets on the coffee table.

  Which gave her a nice view of his backside. Most baseball players had a great ass, but Heath’s was the best she’d ever seen.

  He caught her staring, and she’d swear that for a split second, she saw desire flash in his eyes. It disappeared in an instant. Or it had never been there in the first place. He busied himself with opening the folded sheets.

  She helped Heath make up the couch over his protests. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the right. And you can use my home office for your things. There are hangers in the closet and a couple of empty drawers in the credenza.”

  “Thanks.” He collected his suitcase and left the room.

  Why was he being so quiet? She should be the one embarrassed by her come-on a few minutes ago. Talk about an ego crusher. His rejection ten years ago had been awful enough. Now she had yet another blow to her self-esteem, and it was her own fault.

  I am confident. I am worthy.

  She waited for him to come back. When he did, she couldn’t find her voice. Probably because he was wearing shorts that revealed the most amazing long, sinewy legs. And his tight-fitting t-shirt hugged his biceps and showcased the perfect vee from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist. The man made her think about doing deliciously sinful things with him. A sweet ache roared to life low in her belly.

  He eyed her. “You okay?”

  Jeez, had she been that obvious? She cleared the cobwebs from her throat. “Can I ask you something?” Would he tell her why he’d backed out of kissing her?

  Just say it.

  “You said you’re not dating anyone, right?” she asked.

  Chicken.

  He let out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not since my stalker. That cured me, at least for a while.”

  “Oh, right.” A loaded silence hung heavy in the air.

  Heath folded back the covers then climbed into his makeshift bed. Luckily, the sofa was extra-long since he was extra tall. He swept his gaze over her, his eyes lingering on her breasts a moment. “I like your outfit.”

  Red hot awareness stormed through her. Until she realized he was probably just reading the words on her pajama top. “Thanks. Do you need anything?”

  Like a goodnight kiss, or more?

  “Nope, I’m good.”

  Damn. “Okay, well, sleep tight.”

  “You, too.” He turned out the lamp next to the couch as she headed from the room.

  Yup, I’m a total chicken.

  “Where’s Captain Planet when I need him?” she muttered under her breath.

  Heath punched his pillow for what felt like the hundredth time. He ought to just give up and accept that he wasn’t going to get any sleep. If only he could get Tori off his mind. More than anything, he wanted to keep her in his life forever, but his desire for her was only increasing with every minute he spent with her. Only he knew better than to act upon it.

  He sucked at love. Every other relationship he’d had with a woman had crashed and burne
d for one reason or another. Taking that chance with Tori was too dangerous. He couldn’t risk their friendship.

  His elbow started aching, which reminded him that his love life wasn’t his only problem. The prospect of losing his career made him shudder. Baseball was all he had, all he’d ever wanted to do. It was who he was. The game had set him free to leave Cat’s Paw Cove after high school, to escape all the people who’d known about his drunk of a father, the fact that his family was trailer park trash. Bile burned the back of his throat.

  Shutting his eyes, he tried concentrating on relaxing every muscle. He desperately needed sleep’s release.

  “Insomnia, huh?” Tori strode toward him. “Me, too.”

  Holy God, she had on that negligee he’d imagined her wearing. Was he dreaming? He pinched himself, and it hurt.

  She slid her hand along the top of the couch as she walked the length of it then stopped when she was at the end where his head lay.

  He sat up and drank in the sight of her. The only light in the room came from the hallway, which framed her in a soft white aura. Her curls tumbled over her shoulders to her breasts, which were clearly visible straining against the fabric.

  He swallowed hard. How the hell was he supposed to resist her? Helping himself to the view, he drank in the gentle curve of her hips, the outline of her long legs. She took his breath away.

  Something in the back of his mind warned him not to touch her, but his libido trumped rational thinking. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her toward him. Her scent intoxicated him, made him dizzy with wanting. Skimming his tongue over her lower lip, he savored his first taste of her.

  She let out a soft purr as he covered her mouth with his. Closing his eyes, he feasted on her sweet, minty taste. The kiss was better than he’d imagined it would be—slow and warm and beyond intimate. He’d been yearning to taste her for years.

  But way too soon she broke the kiss then came around the sofa where he could get at her better. He mated his fingers with hers and pulled her onto his lap. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Yes, we should.” She held onto the back of the sofa and straddled his thighs. “We both want it. Did you really think I didn’t sense your desire?” She lifted an eyebrow, challenging him to argue the point.

  Which he couldn’t and didn’t want to. His body was tight with pent-up need. He slipped his hands around her waist. “I want you so much.”

  He pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time deeper and harder. She wriggled against him, and he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. He cupped her bottom then found the hem of her gown and sneaked his hands under it so he could directly touch her skin.

  Feeling her shudder, he lightly trailed his tongue over the shell of her ear then nipped the lobe. He needed to touch all of her. She stilled as he pushed the straps of her negligee off her shoulders. The fabric fell away.

  He’d been fantasizing about this—about her—for a very long time.

  Yeah, he was ready. Beyond ready, but he had to be sure this was what she really wanted. He held her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. Eyes that glowed with the fire of passion. “There’s no going back, Tori.”

  At her nod, he got up and shucked off his clothes in a fraction of a second. She lifted her nightgown over her head, giving him a glimpse of her perfection. Unlike so many of the women he’d been with, she was all soft curves rather than hard angles, natural rather than surgically enhanced. Tori was a hundred percent real. Everything before her was a prelude to this.

  He drew her into his arms and took his time kissing her, devouring her mouth, exploring her. She softened against him as he ran his hands up and down her back. Her eyes drifted shut, and she moaned quietly.

  Her fingers lightly traced his biceps. “Stop now, and there’ll be one dead pitcher in my living room.”

  He grinned as she stretched out on the cushions. How had he gotten so lucky that no other guy had snatched her up since William?

  Her expression grew serious, her stare as dark as midnight. “I think about you all the time. About us, like this.” Fire glinted in her eyes as she watched him.

  “I haven’t been able to think about anything else lately.” He could so easily lose himself in her, in the moment. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You don’t scare me.” Tori urged him on.

  They made love with an urgency as if the magical spell upon them would break at any moment. There’d be plenty of time for slow and sweet later. For the time being, passion trumped tenderness.

  Sweat slicked his skin. He rolled over to grab the sheet but got twisted in it instead. What the hell? He searched for Tori. Where had she gone?

  “Heath. Hey, are you okay?” She shoved his arm.

  He opened his eyes to find her staring down at him. In her Scooby Doo pajamas. Oh God, he’d dreamed the whole thing. And now she stood over him, looking at him as if he was some kind of weirdo. But what had she seen?

  The sheet was wrapped around his legs, and he was soaked with perspiration.

  “Are you all right? You sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

  He inwardly groaned and wiped a hand over his face. “Yeah, no. I mean, I’m good. Go back to bed.”

  She frowned at him. “Fine. You don’t have to be so grumpy.” Shaking her head, she left the room.

  He propped himself up on his elbows. “Tori,” he called. “I’m sorry.”

  If she only knew how much he wanted to pull her onto the sofa with him and do what they’d done in his dream. He craved the sound of her pleasured moans, to give her ecstasy and take his own.

  “It’s all good. See you in the morning.” Her door clicked shut.

  Thank goodness he’d only made love to her in his dream. He’d never forgive himself if he gave in to temptation and ruined the one true gem in his life.

  Heath stood at the bathroom mirror shaving the next morning as Tori raced through the house speaking to her cats as if they were her children.

  “No scratching the couch today, guys. I’d better not find any of you on the counters. You know you’re not allowed.” She stopped at the bathroom and stuck her head inside the open door. “Will you be ready in five minutes? We can hit the drive-through at Sugarland bakery on our way to my office. I can’t function without my latte.”

  “No problem.” Every time he looked at her, he flashed on his dream. It had been so real. And so hot. Although he’d imagined the two of them making love plenty of times, he’d never before had to wake up to the object of his obsession.

  As her footsteps receded, he tightened the knot in the towel around his waist then strode from the bathroom to her home office, where he’d left his things. Shutting himself in the room to change, he stripped off the towel. He’d been too tired to unpack last night so most of his things were still in his suitcase, which he’d set on a folding luggage rack near the window.

  Before he could get his clothes out, a noise in the closet tore his attention from the task.

  Tori stepped out from behind the closet door, her arms loaded down with bags. Her wide gaze skimmed over him. The bags fell along with her jaw. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. Oh my God, I thought you were still in the bathroom.”

  Heath grabbed his towel and covered up as she squeezed her eyes shut and sidestepped toward the door.

  She stumbled past the desk, blindly patting the wall as she went. When she closed the door, Heath let out the breath he’d been holding. Strangely, he wasn’t embarrassed. More like a little turned on. Which made him feel like some deviant weirdo. Staying with Tori was going to be harder than he’d imagined. Having her so close was too much of a temptation to make his dream a reality.

  Not only did being here with Tori shake his resolve about keeping their relationship platonic, but he feared he could cramp her style. She was obviously very busy between her business, her pets, and taking care of her demanding mother. A houseguest was
the last thing she needed.

  After he finished dressing, he checked his phone for area hotels. The closest accommodations he could find was more than an hour away, but it would be worth the drive every day if it saved him from making a disastrous decision. He shut his suitcase and set it near the door. Rather than risk hurting Tori’s feelings, he’d wait until later then tell her his back hurt from the sofa or some other excuse why he couldn’t stay.

  An hour later, he sat in the main room of the Cat Town Events office surrounded by piles of pens, tablets, and more than a dozen types of individually wrapped grocery item samples.

  Tori had been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive from her house to the bakery, but thankfully after a few sips of her latte, she’d perked up and spent the rest of the short drive telling him all about what she did on a daily basis.

  “I’ll be there to help you in a minute,” Tori told him, poking her head out of her private office. She had a corded phone cradled to her shoulder while she typed a text message on her cell.

  He waved, then continued stuffing tote bags with promotional items. Watching her put out half a dozen fires at once impressed him. So did the quaint farmhouse she’d converted into her company’s home base. Just like her house, she’d decorated it in a wild assortment of colors and patterns that somehow worked.

  Her three employees each had a workspace in the main room, but rather than traditional office furniture, the women used overstuffed chairs and antique wooden secretaries with fold-down desks. There was even an orange office cat wandering through the rooms, yet another of Tori’s fosters, she’d explained. The homey surroundings gave the place a relaxed, comfortable feel that screamed Tori.

  “I’ll throw in whatever the extra costs. I want the biggest, most spectacular fireworks show this town has ever seen.” She turned her back to Heath as she spoke into her phone, allowing him another opportunity to observe her. In a fitted royal blue dress and black patent leather pumps, the woman was a walking, breathing grand slam.