He kissed her cheek.
Brighton leaned closer. “I read through the program and about the sponsor levels. Did you really donate a hundred thousand dollars?”
“Every year.”
She gazed at him for a moment. “The kids in the program are blessed.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “This charity feels personal. I can get behind this one and the Beacon of Hope Center in Belltown.”
She nodded, and one of the other table guests asked Axel a question about the last game.
The conversation turned to baseball as everyone ate their meals, until it was time for Axel to emcee the slide show. It was his favorite part. He read through the story vignettes of about eight kids, with the audience clapping after each one. Then the program featured a Juilliard-trained violinist.
Axel retook his seat by Brighton. “Ready to get out of here?”
She raised her brows. “You’re done?”
“I’m done, and after the music, it’s all mingling,” he said. “I’d rather mingle only with you.”
Brighton elbowed him. “Okay, but we can’t leave until the violinist is finished.”
“Okay,” he said, setting his arm about her shoulders again.
She leaned into him, and he breathed in her orange-blossom scent. It felt good to be here with Brighton. She’d chatted easily with the others at the table, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.
The violinist played her last bit of music, and the dessert was served. Conversation buzzed, and a few guests left. Others would stay for another hour, taking advantage of the alcohol that was included in the five-hundred-a-plate benefit.
Axel stood and held out his hand to Brighton. She placed her hand in his. “Let’s say goodbye to Mr. Mills, then we’ll go.”
They made their goodbyes and talked to a few people on their way out. Once they were back in the truck, Axel shrugged out of his jacket and tugged off his bowtie. “Have you ever been to the Chihuly Gardens?”
Brighton clipped on her seatbelt. “A couple of times. The last time was a few years ago with my mom and Geoff, husband number five.”
Axel smiled. “Have you been at night?”
“No—is it even open this late?”
“I have connections.”
When they pulled into the parking lot of the garden and glass center, Axel noticed there were only two security trucks there. No problem. He opened Brighton’s door, then grabbed his tuxedo jacket. “You’ll want this.” He set it over her shoulders, then grasped her hand.
He led Brighton to the entrance, where a security guard had come out of the ticket office.
“Ah, Wayne, you’re on shift tonight?” Axel said to the mustached man.
“Axe Man! I’ve been wondering where you been.” Wayne shook his hand enthusiastically. “No sister tonight?”
Axel chuckled. “She’s at that stage where she doesn’t want to be seen with anyone related to her.”
Wayne grinned. “I hear ya, man. And who’s this pretty lady?”
“Wayne, this is Brighton West,” Axel said.
Wayne’s smile widened, if possible, and he shook Brighton’s hand. “Nice to meet ya.”
“You too,” Brighton said.
“Are you okay with us walking around for a bit?” Axel asked, pulling out a couple of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. He pressed them into Wayne’s hand.
“You don’t need to pay me, Axe,” Wayne said.
“Get your kids something from me,” Axel said. “Or take your wife out to dinner.”
Wayne looked down at the bills in his hand. “That’s some nice dinner.” He unlocked the gate leading into the gardens. “She’s all yours.”
Axel chuckled. “Have a good night. Give my best to your family.”
“Will do, my friend.”
Axel led Brighton into the quiet stillness of the gardens, their hands intertwined. They walked around the glass house, sticking to the gardens. Glass creations in a riot of colors were exhibited among the trees, plants, and flowers. In the moonlight and glow of the ambience lamps, the landscape seemed otherworldly.
“This place is like heaven,” she said.
He looked over at her and decided that she was like heaven.
When she met his gaze, she said, “What?”
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said. “Well, you always look beautiful.”
“Back to flirting again, baseball boy?”
“Only with you.” Axel released her hand, then lifted his hands to cradle her face. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” He kissed her softly, and he was reminded of when he kissed her in Belltown and she was wearing his blazer. Now she wore his tux jacket.
Brighton slipped her arms around his waist, and his pulse thrummed at the contact.
He was in no hurry, and neither was she. They kissed slowly, no distractions, no people, no interruptions. Just the cool night air, the garden lights, and the deep fragrance of flowering plants surrounding them. It was heaven.
It seemed like ages, or seconds, before Brighton drew away. “No offense, Mr. Shortstop, but I want to see the garden before the spell is broken.”
His mind was kind of hazy, and he wasn’t sure if he’d heard right. “Spell?”
“You know, Cinderella.” She slid her hand into his. “The magic ends at midnight.”
“You’re telling me you have a curfew?”
“Self-imposed,” she said. “Especially when my alarm’s going to go off at four thirty a.m.”
“You can always stay at my place,” he said, leaning down and kissing her neck. He wasn’t ready to stop the kissing stuff yet. “It’s closer to the airport.”
“I think you need more soy ice cream in your freezer.”
Axel chuckled. “Okay, let’s walk around.”
As they walked, Brighton marveled at the glass art and the foliage. Axel had seen it all more than once, coming here alone or with his sister. But it was nice to see things through Brighton’s eyes. He even stole another kiss, or three.
“So your sister was texting me during the banquet,” Brighton said. “We’re going to start our own two-person book club.”
“Really?” Axel looked down at her. “Do you have time for that? I mean, you barely have time for me.”
Brighton laughed. “I definitely have time for books. They’re on my top list of priorities.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’d like to hear that list.”
“Hmm, okay,” she said, and he could tell she was thinking as she went. “Number one, food, number two, sleep. Three, family—so, my mom. Even though I’m probably number fifty on hers. Or number one if she needs a free flight.”
“What number am I?” Axel asked, getting more and more interested.
Brighton stopped and faced him. She placed her hand on his chest, something he was coming to love about her. “I’m getting there. Four, my job, because, you know, bills. Five, chocolate, because if any of the first four on my list implode, there’s always chocolate. Six... books.”
Axel groaned; she laughed.
“Number seven. You.”
“I’m number seven?” He moved his hands to her hips and drew her close. “Behind your job, chocolate, and books?”
“It’s just a list, Axe Man, nothing to get worked up over.”
“But it’s your list,” he said. “And I want to be higher.”
“Hmm.” Brighton lifted up on her toes and kissed his mouth. “You do taste better than chocolate.”
He kissed her back with a little more heat, to prove that he definitely belonged higher on her list than chocolate.
“Axel,” she whispered, drawing away. “I think I’m convinced.”
He grinned. “You know, my sister has asked a million questions about you. I’m glad you’re doing a book club, or whatever that is.”
Brighton drew out of his embrace to lead him on the path through the crystal and icicle towers. “She’s a great kid,” she said. “And you’re a great man. Yo
u’re changing lives every day, while I’m serving drinks to airline passengers.”
“Well, I’m grateful for your job,” he said, a smile in his voice. “How else would I have met you?”
“Twitter?”
Axel laughed. “Because connections on Twitter are so genuine.”
Brighton smiled. They walked for a while longer, then headed back to the entrance. “Tell me about your dad,” he said.
“He walked on water,” Brighton said. “At least, according to my mom. I thought he was pretty great too, but he died when I was seven, so I only had a little-girl relationship with him.”
“What was his career?” he asked.
“Plumber,” she said. “He also loved to garden. Kind of funny, I know. I remember him out in the yard on the weekends working in the garden. He grew all sorts of vegetables, then in the front yard, he planted hundreds of flowers. I was relegated to pulling weeds.”
Axel nodded. “Is that why you love flowers so much, or should I say floral wallpaper?”
She smirked. “Probably.”
“My mom grows indoor herbs for her cooking,” Axel said, “but I don’t think she’s done any major gardening.”
“I wish I had time for more hobbies,” Brighton mused, “but I’m gone too much. I’d kill plants and neglect pets.”
Axel released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulder. “So books and chocolate it is, I guess.” He drew her close and kissed her temple.
“Wayne’s going to see us,” she warned.
They were almost to the entrance. Axel straightened. “Time to get Cinderella home.”
Brighton slipped her arm around his waist, and Axel liked the way they fit together.
Sure enough, Wayne was waiting for them as they reached the entrance. He unlocked the gate and asked, “How was it?”
“Beautiful,” Axel said. “Thanks again.”
“Yes, thank you,” Brighton said. “It was lovely.”
“No problem,” Wayne said, waving as they moved into the parking lot. “Don’t be strangers, my friends. Come back soon.”
CHAPTER 19
The Sharks headed onto the field, and Axel jogged across the infield to take his position at shortstop. The warmer Los Angeles weather was a welcome change. This morning it had been raining when they flew out of Seattle. Frankly, Axel was glad to get on the plane. The last day and a half sitting around in Seattle without Brighton had been torture.
He didn’t know what his problem was, because he’d lived in Seattle for four years and had no trouble with staying occupied between traveling and home games. But after he’d taken Brighton back to her place Saturday night after the charity gala, he’d missed her. Texting and phone calls weren’t good enough.
But he also didn’t want to come on too strong. From what he’d gathered, things between her and her ex had moved pretty quickly, and she’d felt like Leo was making all the decisions.
So it was everything Axel could do to take things at her pace. Not that things could move much faster, because they both traveled for their jobs.
Still... Axel thought of the last text he’d seen from Brighton before he turned off his phone before warmups. Say hi to Big Dawg for me.
Speaking of Big Dawg, the guy was waving at him from the dugout. Trying to distract Axel, no less, because there was no way he was waving back. The first batter on the Sea Rays was up, and Minch was a base hitter.
Axel had watched enough film on Minch to know that more than half his hits were infielders. And the way his shoulder was turned told Axel that it might just be coming to him.
Lyle Beane was pitching, from a Triple-A team out of the Midwest. The kid was only twenty, but he had a quick release and decent fastball.
Minch swung high.
“Strike one!” the umpire called out.
High. Axel hadn’t expected that from Minch. Huh.
Axel moved back from the baseline about four feet. The third-base coach noticed and motioned for Axel to move forward again.
But Axel shook his head and rested his hands on his knees. Beane was pitching another fastball, and this one Minch would likely read perfect—
Crack.
Axel took two running steps to his left and jumped. The ball thwacked into his mitt. Solid and sure.
“Out!” the ump yelled.
Axel tossed the ball back to the pitcher.
“Nice, Axe,” Willie said from third base.
The Sea Rays crowd wasn’t happy, and only scattered cheers for the out could be heard throughout the stands. Axel glanced at the Sea Rays dugout to see that Big Dawg had just stepped out. He practically swaggered to the warmup box. When Big Dawg caught Axel looking at him, Big Dawg saluted him.
Axel kept down a smile. The next batter had just cozied up to home plate. Axel was familiar with Ray’s stance. He held his bat high and lifted up on the front of his feet. The sports journalists called him Tiptoe Ray, but it was no laughing matter. Ray had the current league record for home runs.
One that Axel planned to break.
Before the warmups, Axel had told Beane to only throw curves to Ray. Hopefully the kid would listen.
“Ball one,” the ump called.
Axel sensed Beane’s nervousness. “One pitch at a time,” Axel called out.
Beane lifted his chin slightly, then threw another curveball. Too low.
“Ball two.”
The crowd was getting antsy now. “I’ve seen better arms in a beanbag chair,” someone shouted.
“Give ’em an LA welcome, Ray!” Big Dawg called out.
Beane pitched again. A fastball.
“Damn,” Axel breathed as Ray got hold of the thing and it went sailing. Over second base, over centerfield, then hitting the backboard of the field.
Second base had taken off, and Axel ran to cover. But it was too late. Ray had rounded first, then headed straight for second.
Axel caught the ball, but Ray had slid into second base.
“Safe!” the ump shouted.
Axel threw a hard line ball at the pitcher, who nearly bobbled it in his mitt.
“Are you deaf, Beane?” Axel asked.
The kid was perspiring, but Axel couldn’t go easy on any pitcher, no matter how green. This wasn’t the minor leagues anymore. Beane might be on a plane back to Iowa before the second inning.
And now... Big Dawg was up to bat.
One out. One runner on base.
Axel smacked his fist into his mitt and called to Big Dawg, “Right here, baby!”
“You got it, sunshine,” Big Dawg said on his way to the home base.
Axel scoffed. He’d played enough years with Cole Hunter to know that look in his eye. Out of all the players in the league, Big Dawg could place the ball pretty much wherever he wanted. Even if it included Axel’s head.
“Ready for your double out?” Axel said.
Big Dawg didn’t answer, but Axel knew he’d heard.
Dawg stepped up to home plate, then shifted his hips and shuffled his feet, followed by the signature two-rotation move of his bat.
Beane pitched.
“Ball one!”
Dawg started his routine all over again. Hips shift. Foot shuffle. Two rotations.
“Strike one!”
Axel stepped closer to second base, keeping an eye on Ray as the man led off. Fool. Because the next pitch was hit by Dawg, and even though it bounced in the dirt right before Axel, he scooped it up and sprinted toward Ray. Axel tagged Ray out before he could scramble back to safety.
“Out!”
Then Axel pivoted and threw a hard line straight to first base.
“Out!”
Three outs. Inning over.
Big Dawg stepped on first, then rounded the base and jogged toward the dugout, meeting Axel on the way.
“Sorry about that,” Axel said with a grin. “You know better than to hit a grounder to shortstop.”
Dawg scoffed. “Yeah, well, just keeping y’all on your toes, but it seems y
ou don’t need much encouragement. How’s your woman?”
“My... woman?”
Big Dawg laughed. “You can’t tell me you stuck to only one date with little Miss West. Surely Axel Diaz wouldn’t let a pretty thing like that get away.”
Axel nodded, trying to keep cool. He didn’t care for Big Dawg throwing around comments about Brighton.
“Brighton’s excellent,” he said at last.
Dawg slapped him on the shoulder. “I was wondering why you’re playing with more vigor than usual. But that doesn’t mean y’all gonna win tonight.”
Axel laughed. “I’m willing to bet if you are.”
“Deal,” Dawg said, his blue-green eyes flashing. “Dinner’s on the loser. And I got a lot of friends who’ll be coming with me.”
Axel didn’t hesitate. “Deal.” He jogged toward the dugout. The Sea Rays were already warming up.
Two and a half hours later, Axel and Big Dawg were sitting at a steak house, Axel gloating over the four-two win over the Sea Rays and Big Dawg making excuse after excuse.
Axel had hit another home run, and Big Dawg at least gave him credit for that.
After they ordered dinner, Big Dawg said, “Okay, spill. Tell me about your woman.”
“She has a name,” Axel said, knowing he couldn’t get out of talking about Brighton. Not if he had to be with Dawg for the next hour of dinner.
“Brighton West, yeah, I know.” Dawg grinned. “What’s her story? Skeeter said she’s a flight attendant and that’s how y’all met.”
Axel took a sip of his water. Dang Skeeter. “It’s true. She works for Swift Airlines, and that’s all you’re going to get.”
“Come on, man,” Dawg said. “You gotta give me more. When else are we going to have a heart-to-heart without everyone else interrupting?”
Axel took another drink of his water, but said nothing.
“Really?” Dawg said.
Axel sat back in his chair, still saying nothing.
“Dude.” Dawg slapped the table. “At least tell me what you told Skeeter.”
“Sounds like you already know.”
Dawg raised both hands. “Belltown U versus Vermont Giants. Bottom of the eighth. Two men on base. Two outs. Score’s tied up.”
“Okay, okay,” Axel said. The game against the Giants had been the worst of his life. Axel had gone for a line drive and twisted his ankle on the catch. He went down, and the ball popped out of his mitt.
Charming the Shortstop Page 14