Rachel grinned her megawatt smile as she looked at Brighton. “Great to meet you!”
“You too,” Brighton said. “I guess you know the Six Pack then?”
Rachel laughed. “Sure do. Instead of having one brother, it’s like having six. So it’s my job to keep them in line.” She turned to look at Grizz, who stood behind her, then she grabbed his arm. “We’re gonna dance, then we’ll meet you guys at lumberball.”
“It’s going to be epic,” Grizz said, raising his eyebrows in a challenge to Axel. “Or are you going to wimp out?”
Axel scoffed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”
Grizz chuckled, then moved off with Rachel to dance with her.
Axel had just pulled Brighton into his arms again and started dancing when another interruption came.
“Y’all coming?” Big Dawg said, appearing on Axel’s right. The Dawg had already shed his tux jacket and taken off his bow tie.
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” Axel said.
Big Dawg winked at Brighton. “Can’t wait to hit Axel out. See you two soon.” He slapped Axel’s shoulder, then moved on.
“What does he mean?” Brighton asked. “Hit you out? I thought there wasn’t any pitching.”
“Throwing the dodgeball and hitting someone means they’re out.”
Brighton’s brows went up.
“We can back out if you want,” he said, half hoping she’d agree.
She drew away from Axel, lowering her arms. Then she grasped his hand. “Let’s go play lumberball.”
“Okay.” He didn’t think he’d say no to any of her requests right now. So he led her to the lobby, stopping a few times to greet others who called out to him.
By the time they got to the lobby, several people had assembled. The practice field was only a couple of blocks away, so they were all walking.
Brighton kept her hand in his as they went with the group outside and made their way to the field. The lights were already on, and someone had brought along the dodgeball and plastic bat.
Skeeter, who seemed to be in charge, quickly separated the teams out.
“Looks like we’re together,” Steal said, coming up to Axel.
Axel shook his former teammate’s hand, since Steal wasn’t a hugger. The guy had shed his leather jacket but seemed to still exude the bad-boy look.
“Sounds good to me. Brighton, this is Levi Cox. But everyone calls him Steal.”
Steal shook Brighton’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Where are you from?”
“Seattle, and you?” Brighton said.
One of Steal’s brows lifted. “Florida.”
“That’s right. Enjoying Minnesota?”
Apparently she had known where Steal was from.
Steal grimaced. “There are pros and cons. Most of it having to do with the weather.”
Brighton laughed.
Steal smiled. “I’m kind of shallow, aren’t I?”
Brighton held up her two fingers. “Just a little.”
Well, it seemed that Brighton could get even Steal to relax and smile. Just in case Steal was getting any ideas, Axel threw him a glare for good measure.
Steal’s brows shot up, and a knowing smirk crossed his face. Message received.
Axel eyed Brighton’s shoes. She was wearing heels, and they wouldn’t be comfortable, or safe, playing lumberball. “Do you want me to see if anyone has any extra tennis shoes?”
She bit her lip and looked around at the others. A couple of women were barefoot, and others had likely had a heads-up and came prepared with backup shoes.
“It’s okay,” Brighton said. “I can go barefoot.” She grasped the sleeve of Axel’s blazer and used his arm to balance as she lifted each foot and slid off her heels.
Axel realized he was watching her movements with interest. And he could feel Steal’s pointed gaze on him. Axel swallowed. “Okay, but at least take my jacket. It’s already cooling off.” He shrugged out of his blazer and set it across her shoulders.
Brighton didn’t protest, so Axel decided he’d at least beaten Steal to the punch. The last thing Axel wanted was Brighton wearing one of his friends’ jackets.
“So how does this work?” she asked, her violet eyes connecting with his.
“We’re first up to bat,” Axel explained. “You toss the dodgeball yourself, then hit it as far as you can. If you’re running to a base and someone tags you with the ball, then you’re out.”
“Sounds pretty easy,” Brighton said. “Running fast is probably a good thing.”
“A very good thing.” Axel looked down at her bare feet. “You could try my shoes.”
Brighton smiled. “Really, Axel, I’m fine. Thanks for the offer though.”
He liked it when she called him Axel. And he liked it that the sadness had disappeared from her eyes. “Let’s play ball then.”
CHAPTER 10
Brighton soon found out that she’d grossly misspoken when she’d referred to lumberball as “pretty easy.” She should have known that any type of physical game with a group of pro baseball players would be extremely intense.
When it was her turn to “bat,” she’d already watched two other women, as well as Steal and Big Dawg, get hit with the dodgeball before they even made it to first base.
Axel was currently on third base, waiting to get home, and if Brighton got out, that would be three outs. So far, their team had no points. The pressure was on.
“Batter up!” Skeeter called out.
“Do you need help, darlin’?” Big Dawg asked from the dugout.
“She’ll be fine,” Axel said from third base, a tinge of warning in his voice.
Big Dawg laughed, and Brighton was pretty sure she was blushing.
She’d watched the others hit the ball, and it didn’t look impossible. They’d bounce the ball on the home plate, then swing the plastic bat.
The first swing she missed. Thankfully no one laughed.
“Slow it down,” Axel called out. “Focus on the ball.”
“You can do it, sunshine,” Big Dawg added.
Brighton tried to calm her breathing and ignore the fact that everyone was watching her. On the second bounce, she hit the ball, but it only rolled a few feet. She wasn’t sure if it even counted.
“Run!” her team screamed, and she took off. She ran across the grass, heading straight for Grizz, who was manning first base.
She could feel his ice-blue eyes on her as she neared. But no ball had hit her yet, so she continued running, knowing that she was probably a step away from twisting her ankle or pulling a muscle. She glanced behind her to see Axel crossing home plate. Then before she could stop herself, she plowed into Grizz.
“Easy there,” he said, grasping her arms and keeping her upright.
“Safe!” Skeeter yelled. “Next up to bat is Big Dawg again!”
Brighton stepped away from Grizz. “Sorry about that.”
He didn’t look bothered, or trampled, at all. “No problem.” He stepped back as well and looked toward the home plate. “You might have to tell Axe that you ran into me, not the other way around.”
Brighton looked toward the dugout. Axel stood near the batter’s box, his hands on his hips, his gaze boring straight at Grizz.
“I don’t know what you did to Axe,” Grizz said, “but it’s a nice change.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “He doesn’t look happy at all.”
“Nope,” Grizz said with a chuckle. “I think it’s called jealousy—something I never thought I’d see from Axe.”
Brighton smoothed her hair from her face. She didn’t know Axel well enough to pass any sort of judgment, but if Grizz was right, then Brighton didn’t mind in the least.
“Get ready to run,” Grizz said. “Big Dawg looks like he’s ready to hit it hard enough to flatten either the ball or the bat.”
“Aren’t you helping the enemy?” Brighton said, holding back a smile.
Grizz winked at her.
And Brighton wondered if Axel could see that. She felt sort of tingly thinking that Axel liked her enough to be annoyed at his friends flirting with her.
Big Dawg connected with the ball, and Grizz was right: the thing went sailing. She ran, staring down second base, where Rabbit was waiting. By the time she got there, she heard people screaming at her to run to third. Rabbit also waved her on with a laugh. Who was yelling, she didn’t know, but she kept on going. Even though she was running faster than she ever remembered running in her life, her heart sank as a red streak flashed across her vision, then something slapped against her knees.
She’d been hit by the dodgeball.
Groans came from her team, and she slowed to a walk. “Sorry,” she said, lifting her arms. The inning was over.
Axel jogged out to her.
“Stay on third,” he said, and she realized he was taking the shortstop position, just like in a regular game.
She was out of breath from running, which was sort of pathetic because she hadn’t run far, and she was suddenly feeling very nervous to play third base.
Grizz was up to bat first, and for some reason she had the feeling he was going to hit it straight to her.
Brighton barely had time to get her bearings before the dodgeball sailed in a hard arc right toward her face. She lifted her arms to catch it, but at the last second, she chickened out and ducked. The thing was going fast, and she was pretty sure it was going to take her head off.
The ball smacked behind her, and she realized that Axel had caught it.
“Oh,” she exhaled, turning.
Axel threw it toward first base, hard, and two steps before Grizz stepped on the base, the ball clipped his heels.
“Out!” Skeeter shouted.
Brighton’s team clapped and cheered.
“Nice job, Axe,” Big Dawg called from second base.
Grizz walked back to the dugout, shaking his head but grinning. He pointed to Axel and said, “You’d better watch your back, Axe Man. Payback’s gonna hurt.”
“Bring it on,” Axel returned.
Well, then. Brighton moved closer to her base as a woman got up to bat. It was the blond who’d talked to Brighton in the bathroom—Harlow. She swung and missed twice, then finally hit the ball. Now Brighton didn’t feel so bad. Harlow made it to first base safely after a fumble from Big Dawg, which looked a little staged.
Huh. Were the baseball players favoring the women?
Next up was Rabbit, and although Harlow made it all the way to third, Big Dawg threw Rabbit out between first and second.
By the fourth inning, Brighton was feeling more confident in her lumberball-playing abilities. She’d scored a point, and after much backslapping from her teammates, Axel had pulled her into a hug. It was brief, but it sent Brighton’s pulse into overdrive. Who knew a jacked-up dodgeball game could be so fun?
The game ended in the eighth inning with a tie. They would have kept playing longer, but the sprinklers came on, cutting the game short.
Brighton made it back to the dugout after only getting a little wet.
Everyone was talking about hitting up some donut shop called Sinclairs. “You guys coming?” Rabbit asked, looking at Brighton. “Sinclairs has the best donuts this side of the Mississippi.”
Brighton was about to say sure, but Axel said, “No, we’re taking off.”
Once the Six Pack heard that Axel and Brighton were leaving, there was more hugging, more backslapping.
“Come on,” Axel said, steering her away from the debate that had ensued about whether the chocolate or maple donuts were best and whether they should have an eating contest. They walked off the field and reached the road.
“I can call an Uber,” Brighton said, “and you can stay with your friends. I really don’t mind.”
Axel looked over her, his gold-brown eyes scanning her. She’d put back on her shoes and still wore his blazer, and he hadn’t asked for it back yet.
“I’ll be with them most of the day tomorrow,” he said. “Besides, maybe I want you to myself.”
Warmth flooded Brighton, and she slowed her step so that Axel had to turn.
“You’re kind of a flirt, aren’t you?” she said, folding her arms. “Even if you aren’t a player.”
Axel stepped closer to her. “I’m only being honest, Brighton. Yeah, it’s fun to be with the guys, but they’re kind of competitive, if you haven’t noticed. Maybe I want a mellow night.”
Brighton pressed a finger against his chest. “You’re just as competitive.”
Axel smiled and grasped her hand. “Maybe. But Skeeter gave me the keys to his rebuilt sports car. I thought we could test it out.”
She lifted her brows, definitely interested. “He must really trust you.”
Axel grinned and drew her by the hand along the sidewalk. “I’m a good driver, you’ll see. Besides, he owes me.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Come on,” he said, linking their fingers. “I’ll show you around Belltown.”
Brighton didn’t know how much they could see in the dark, but Axel Diaz was holding her hand and leading her toward a dark-red Mustang. Nothing to complain about here.
The deep cherry color glowed beneath the streetlamp, and the rims looked like they’d been polished with satin. The beauty of the car made Brighton’s heart skip a beat, and she wouldn’t even call herself a car enthusiast. “Are you serious?” she asked in a reverent tone.
“Mm-hm,” Axel said, amusement in his voice. He opened the passenger door for her.
“Wow.” The interior was gorgeous and immaculate. “I don’t know if I dare sit inside.”
Axel leaned forward and patted the top of the hood. “Ellie’s a sweetheart. She won’t mind.”
“Ellie?”
Axel smiled. He was standing quite close to her now, and Brighton caught his faint spicy scent. “Brighton, meet Ellie, a 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback Eleanor,” he said. “She used to belong to Skeeter’s dad. They were restoring it together before he died, so it never got finished until recently. Skeet’s contract gave him the money to finally afford it.”
The combination of Axel’s close proximity and the gorgeous car was making her feel light in the head. Okay. “You must be really good friends with Skeeter.”
Axel shrugged. “I’ve helped him out of a jam or two.”
He was gazing at her with those tiger eyes of his. Maybe she should sit down and get some of her equilibrium back.
“Well, let’s see what this thing can do then.” Brighton slid into the seat, and Axel shut the door.
While she waited for him to walk around the car, she took a few deep breaths. How had this become her evening? She was sitting in a gorgeous Mustang, and she was on a date with an even more gorgeous man. Like her mom said, if something was too good to be true, it probably was. Which meant that after tonight, she wouldn’t be seeing Axel Diaz again, because what were the chances of him calling her in Seattle? Taking her out again? Zero.
Axel opened the driver’s side door and settled into the seat. Then he started the ignition, and the Mustang purred to life.
He checked his blind spot, then pulled away from the curb. He shifted gears, then moved the speed up a notch. The transition was smooth.
“What do you think?” Axel asked, looking over at her with a smile.
“I can already feel the power, like it’s trying to get loose. Let’s go faster.”
He chuckled. “We’ll have to get on the highway for that.” He slowed at a corner and turned. “There’s Sinclairs.”
Lights spilled from a quaint donut shop, and through the large windows, Brighton could see the place was packed.
Yeah, cruising in this car was a much better choice than being inside a crowded bakery.
Minutes later, Axel merged onto the highway that led out of Belltown, and that’s when he really opened the car up. He accelerated, and Brighton gripped the edges of her seat. A truck was lumbering up ahead, and Axel said, “Hang on.”<
br />
She was already hanging on.
In one smooth motion, Axel passed the truck, then slowed down again, but just barely.
When the speed evened out, Brighton took notice of the interior features of the car. She couldn’t guess at how much money and work had been put into it. “What do you drive?” she asked.
Axel glanced over at her. “I recently got a motorcycle.”
“And your mom’s okay with that?”
Axel smiled. “No. But I bought her a car, so she can’t complain.”
One of her stepdads had a motorcycle, but it had scared her to death. “So is having a motorcycle a new thing, or have you always ridden them?”
“I had one at Belltown U,” he said. “But I didn’t take it with me to Seattle. Gave it to some poor college student who thought it was the best day of his life. But you know Seattle—kind of rainy—so I mostly drive my truck. Plus my contract says I can only ride it on neighborhood roads.”
“I drive a Hyundai,” Brighton said. “Great gas mileage. Sporty-looking. Reasonably priced. Safety rating is really high.”
Axel chuckled. “You sound like a car commercial. I’d never drive a Hyundai, even if I broke both of my arms and had to drop out of baseball and you gave the car to me for free.”
“Tell me how you really feel about Hyundais,” Brighton teased. “You don’t know until you’ve driven one.”
“You’re right,” he said. “What about motorcycles? Do you like them?”
“Not my favorite,” she said. “My stepdad took me for a ride when I was a kid. Never been on one since, but you don’t see me bashing them.”
“Touché.” Axel pulled off the next exit and slowed at the stop sign. He came to a full stop. “Maybe I can take you for a ride.”
Brighton stared at him. Was he just being conversational, or did he really mean it? “In Seattle?” she asked, feeling stupid as soon as the words left her mouth.
“That’s where the motorcycle is.” He was gazing at her too, and not driving. They were still at the stop sign.
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