Charming the Shortstop

by Heather B. Moore

  Dawg ran up from centerfield to cover and caught the ball before it hit the ground. They’d won that night and took the region championship, advancing them to the first round of the NCAA playoffs. They’d go on to win the College World Series.

  Axel had never been so scared in his life. He thought he’d torn a tendon. Dawg and Steal had literally carried him off the field. Two hours and one MRI later, Axel found out that he only had a slight tear. He was back to good shape for the playoffs.

  “Brighton lives in Seattle,” Axel said. “Her dad died when she was a kid, and her mom has remarried a bunch of times. Brighton’s been through some crap, almost got married last year, so we’re, uh, taking things slow.”

  Dawg leaned forward, brows raised. “Why her, of all the women who throw themselves at you? What happened to Cold Axe?”

  Axel’s face warmed. “Maybe it’s because she didn’t throw herself at me. Plus, she’s sweet. And stubborn. And...” He felt heated now, and he took another drink of his ice water. “Genuine.”

  Dawg grinned. “And gorgeous.”

  Axel frowned.

  “Easy man,” Dawg said with a laugh. “What does your mom say?”

  “I haven’t introduced them yet,” Axel said. “I mean, it’s all kind of new, and well, with my track record, I don’t want to get my mom’s hopes up if things... fade out.”

  “Well, I’d say you’re all in, dude,” Dawg said. “The question will be if you’re man enough for her.”

  “You’re lucky there’s a table between us,” Axel deadpanned.

  The server arrived with their meals, and Axel dug into his meal of baby back ribs and loaded baked potato.

  Both of their phones chimed at once. The Six Pack group text was buzzing with news about the games played tonight. Everyone’s teams had won, except for the Sea Rays.

  Axel snapped a picture of the food on his dinner plate and sent it to the group, with the caption: Victory never tasted so good. Courtesy of Big Dawg.

  Dawg read Axel’s text, then sent out one of his own: At least my loss resulted in Home Run Axe getting another notch in his belt. He won’t be so lucky next time. Dawg added a GIF of a baseball player being tagged out at home.

  That set off a firestorm.

  Axel and Dawg spent the next few minutes responding to texts about their game.

  Then Axel put his phone away. “How are you liking the Sea Rays, besides losing tonight to us?”

  Dawg shook his head, amusement in his eyes. “Y’all never mince words, do ya? Can’t complain about California. Lots of sun. Mild weather. Great fans. Beane did okay tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Axel said. “He’s learning.”

  They continued to talk about the players on their teams, and Axel cataloged what Big Dawg said about his fellow teammates so he could analyze it later. Even a tidbit of information could prove valuable.

  When they finished dinner, they both turned down dessert.

  “Which hotel are you staying in?” Dawg asked.

  Axel told him, then said, “I’ll take another ride in your Ferrari.” Dawg might have a decent pro baseball contract, but his real money came from his family. His F50 was only one of many toys, another of which was a private jet.

  The big dinner must have mellowed Big Dawg out, because his driving was down a few notches. Once they reached the hotel, Dawg said, “I want updates on your lady.”

  “Nice try,” Axel said. “But if you say anything to the group text, I’m going to pull out my dirt on you.”

  “A bit protective, are you?” Dawg teased.

  “I guess I am,” Axel mused. “Well, good luck tomorrow in the game. You’re going to need it.”

  “Funny.” Dawg shoved him in the shoulder. “Wanna go to breakfast in the morning? Or will you be awake all night talking to Brighton?”

  Axel smirked and climbed out of the car. “Breakfast works. I’ll be ready to tell you exactly why the Sharks will beat the Sea Rays two nights in a row. Later, Dawg.”

  Dawg lifted a hand, then Axel shut the door. He would be calling Brighton, but who knew if she’d answer. She was probably hanging out with Gabe, having dinner or something. Or whatever flight attendants did between flights. They’d been texting the past few days, but Axel was tired of that. He wanted to hear her voice.

  His phone rang just after he reached his hotel room. Answering on the first ring, he said, “Silvia?” He didn’t have any reason to think this was one of those calls, but it usually was, so he braced himself.

  “Hi, nice game, bro,” Silvia said.

  This surprised him. “Um, thanks. You watched?”

  “Yeah, my friends came over, and they wanted to watch,” she said in her whatever tone.

  Axel chuckled. “Figures.” Silvia had been to plenty of his games, but she wasn’t what he’d call his number-one fan. That title belonged to his mom. “Everything... all right?”

  “Sure, just seeing how it’s going,” she said.

  Clearly she had an agenda, and Axel wondered how long it would take her to get to it.

  “Things are good.” He crossed to the hotel window and pulled back the drapes, then opened the balcony door. “Just had dinner with Cole Hunter—you remember him—we played at Belltown. He’s on the Sea Rays team.”

  “Oh yeah, that Texas guy who calls everyone darlin’.”

  Axel smiled and stepped onto the balcony. “Yeah, that’s him.” He was still waiting. He was about five stories up, and the street below was busy with traffic, but the air was nice and warm.

  “So...” Silvia said. “When are you going out again with Brighton?”

  This was not what he expected. He leaned against the balcony rail. “Um, I’m not exactly sure. Her schedule is almost as complicated as mine. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason, really,” she said. Long pause. “Except I might have said something to my friends when we were watching the game, and Mom might have overheard it.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Only a handful of times in her career had Brighton wanted to quit her job. And this was one of those nights.

  “Have some wine,” Gabe had told her. “Take a long bath. Tomorrow will be better. I’d also tell you to block your mom’s number, but I know you won’t.”

  Brighton had hugged Gabe good night as soon as they got to their hotel. She wasn’t fit for company, and so she told him she’d order room service.

  So here she was, sitting in her hotel room, food finished, and still angry.

  A text came in from Gabe. How are you doing?

  I ate.

  Any other improvement?

  Not really.

  Want me to come to your room?

  No. I don’t want to ruin your night too. Thanks, though. You’re the best.

  I’m here for you. Just say the word and I’ll be there.

  I know.

  Brighton wished she could block her mom’s number. Brighton had turned on her phone after landing in Phoenix a couple of hours ago. Eight texts had come in, along with two rather panicked voice messages. Apparently her mom had been told she’d used up all her airline credit for the month and was now stuck in Los Angeles, trying to catch a connecting flight to Seattle.

  Her mom had gotten into a huge fight with Phil, and she’d left their Mexico vacation early. Problem was, changing flights at the last minute cost the airlines a lot more, and the credits wouldn’t transfer.

  So her mom had wanted Brighton to talk to the people at corporate. Two phone calls later, Brighton hadn’t gotten any better results but had certainly earned a reputation for being a badgering employee.

  Her mom’s last words were, “Fine, I’ll sleep in this crappy airport and fly out tomorrow. When you go through a divorce, I’ll be sure to let you fend for yourself.”

  To top it off, her mom had hung up on Brighton. As if this were all her fault. It was just like her mom to always take a mile when she was given an inch. Would it be so terrible for her mom to pay for one of her flights for once? Or what about fo
cusing on something else in life, besides finding husband number seven?

  Brighton’s phone rang again, and she groaned. She really needed to turn her phone off, but she froze when she saw it was Axel. They’d texted several times over the last few days. Flirty texts, nothing serious, and she didn’t really think Mr. Shortstop wanted to hear her whine about her mom. There was no way that she’d be able to hide her grumpy mood from Axel, and he had enough drama with his teenage sister.

  So Brighton let the phone ring and go into voicemail. She watched the phone to see if Axel would leave a voicemail. Because of her schedule and the blowup with her mom, she’d missed catching any of Axel’s game. Had they won? She pulled up her browser on her phone and typed in Sharks vs Sea Rays to see if there were any articles or news clips she could watch yet.

  Before she could click on a link, her phone beeped with the voicemail alert.

  So... Axel Diaz was the kind of guy who left messages. She closed the browser and went into her contacts. Her heart thumped as she stared at the little icon telling her she had a message. Why was she nervous about listening to the message?

  She thought about calling Gabe and telling him to come over and listen with her. But that was completely juvenile, and what if Axel said something, well, sexy?

  Heat spread through Brighton, just thinking about what charming thing Axel might say to her... and she suddenly missed him. A lot.

  She opened the message and listened. When Axel’s low voice came on, warmth rushed through her, and she closed her eyes and listened to his voice again.

  “Hi... Just calling to see how you’re doing. Anyway, it’s kind of late, so hopefully you’re sleeping. By the way, this is Axel. Diaz.”

  Brighton smiled.

  “I forgot to tell Big Dawg hi from you. I mean, we hung out, had dinner and stuff. But he was being obnoxious about... stuff... Okay, I’m rambling. Talk to you later. Bye.” Pause. “Oh wait, I did want to talk to you about something. So call me when you can. You know, if you want to. It’s not required or anything.”

  The message clicked off, and Brighton’s heart melted because she could hear the smile in his voice. She wondered what exactly he wanted to talk about—his game? His sister? Most likely their schedules. Her mind was fully awake and distracted now. Full of thoughts of Axel Diaz.

  She took a deep breath and pressed SEND on his name. If he answered, then they’d talk. If he didn’t, she’d send a text.

  He answered on the third ring. “Hey, you called me back.”

  His voice was low and sort of raspy. Sexy. There was really no other word for it. And Brighton suddenly hated that they were a state apart.

  “I did call,” she said. “So now you can stop giving me a hard time about it.”

  Axel’s laugh was soft. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, babe.”

  She’d teased him about calling her babe before, but now, it was like an electric jolt through her. She sat on her bed and leaned against the pillows. “How was your game? I completely missed it because, well... Did you guys win?”

  “We won, four-two,” Axel said. “Got Big Dawg riled up too, so it was worth every minute.”

  “What’d you do?” she asked.

  “Hit a home run over right over his big head.”

  Brighton sat up. “What? Another one?”

  He chuckled, and she put him on speaker and pulled up the browser on her phone. Surely it would be a video clip somewhere.

  She clicked on the first article that popped up and began to skim read. “And a double play?” She opened a couple more links before she found some video footage of Axel’s home-run hit. Sure enough, it was a dead-center hit, straight over centerfield.

  “Wow, I feel like hugging you. That was amazing.”

  “Come to LA then,” Axel said.

  “What? To your game?” she said.

  “We’ve got two more games here the next two nights,” Axel said. “Then back to Seattle.”

  “I’m flying back to Seattle tomorrow morning,” she said, “then I’m working the return flight to Phoenix.”

  “Busy lady,” he said. “When’s your next day off?”

  “Sunday,” she said. “Then Wednesday after that.”

  “We’ll be in Portland Saturday through Monday,” he said. “Wednesday we fly to Texas.”

  “So maybe the next week, we could—”

  “Come to LA,” Axel said. “Tomorrow. I don’t want to wait another week, or two, before I see you again.”

  His voice was low, mellow, and completely convincing.

  She bit her lip. She really shouldn’t even be considering this. “Ironically, my mom’s in LA right now.”

  “She is?” he said. “What’s she doing?”

  “Sleeping at the airport and waiting for room on whichever flight can take her back to Seattle in the morning.”

  “Sleeping at the airport?”

  “It’s a long story,” Brighton said with a sigh. “It looks like she’s getting another divorce. This will be number six.”

  Axel was quiet for a minute.

  Then he said, “I can go pick her up. Get her settled into a hotel.”

  “No.” Brighton felt mortified that she’d somehow made him feel like he had to pick up her mother from the airport in a city he didn’t even live in. They hadn’t even met and—

  “Do you really want your mom sleeping in an airport?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  Brighton exhaled. “She’s furious with me. I couldn’t reason with her or convince her to get a taxi and find a hotel. She plays the helpless victim any time she can—it’s why she always wants a man with her. To pay for her stuff, to drive her, to do everything, and I...” She stopped talking, trying to calm her breathing. She felt on the verge of crying. That was all Axel needed to hear.

  “Please, just forget I said anything,” she continued, her voice trembling. “My mom just takes and takes. She’ll never stop, and catering to her fits will only make the next one worse.”

  “Brighton, I’m twenty minutes from the airport,” he said. “I can have her booked into a hotel room in less than an hour.”

  Brighton squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to put you out, and I don’t want her to think she can do this again.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said. “Why don’t you call her and ask? Then let me know.”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, yeah, I can only imagine how that would go. ‘Hi mom, are you okay if Axel Diaz picks you up from the airport tonight?’”

  “Do you think she’d go for it?” Axel asked, his tone amused.

  “Totally,” Brighton said. “She’d be more than happy to have any man take care of things for her.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “I’m a man, and I’m twenty minutes from the airport.”

  She went silent for a moment, her thoughts spinning. “Why would you do this?” she finally asked.

  “She’s your mom, and I’m here... standing on the balcony in my hotel room by myself,” he said. “Wishing I were in Phoenix with you. But since that would violate team rules, I can only do the next best thing. Help you out.”

  Brighton rubbed at her forehead. “Okay, I’ll call her, and then I’ll let you know. I hope she doesn’t answer.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  It turned out that Brighton’s mom did answer, and she “would be absolutely delighted to be picked up by Axel Diaz. You say he’s a friend of yours? Bright, you’ve been holding out on me! Tell him I’m at Terminal A. I’ll meet him right at the curb. What color is his car?”

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Brighton said. “I’ll text you when I find out.”

  “Now, what position is he again?” her mom asked.

  It was interesting how cheerful her mom’s voice was now, when a couple of hours ago, she’d been a screaming maniac. “Shortstop,” Brighton said.

  “Oh, so he’s not one of those pitchers then.” Her mom had the audacity to sound disappointed.

  Brigh
ton gritted her teeth. “No, he’s not a pitcher. I’ll text you the info after I talk to him, okay?”

  When Axel answered on the first ring, Brighton said, “You’ve got your service project for the night. She’ll be at Terminal A, and she wants to know what color your car is.”

  “It’s a black Suburban—courtesy of the team,” he said. “Text me her number in case I need it.”

  “Okay,” Brighton said. “It’s not too late to back out.”

  “I’ll text you when we get to the hotel,” he said.

  “I feel like I should warn you about a lot of things,” she said, “but I’m sure you can handle a sixty-five-year-old woman?”

  “I can.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Axel hated the glaring stadium lights. He couldn’t make out where Brighton was sitting, even though he knew she was in the stands somewhere at the Sea Rays stadium. To tell the truth, he was a bit distracted thinking about her, which had resulted in a strikeout and only two infield hits.

  It was the bottom of the fifth, and Axel had finally gotten a base hit. Now he was on second, hoping to steal third.

  Big Dawg was hollering about something, but Axel effectively ignored him. Axel was going to score, even if he had to go right through the catcher. The Sea Rays were up one-zero, and tying the game in the fifth would change the momentum with enough time to get ahead.

  “Come on, Ricky,” Axel muttered. “Get me home.” He led off second as the ball left the pitcher’s mitt.

  “Strike two!” the ump shouted.

  The Sea Ray fans went wild.

  Axel clenched his jaw and shuffled back to second, only to lead off again as the pitcher let a fastball fly.

  It was a big risk, with only one out, but when Axel heard Ricky’s bat connect with the pitch, Axel took off running. The ball flew right over third, toward left field. The fielder was sprinting for the catch, and Axel was nearly to third. It would be too late to make it back to second if the fielder caught the ball.

  The crowd’s collective gasp told Axel what he needed to know, in addition to the third-base coach’s bright-red face as he wildly waved his arms.