Charming the Shortstop

by Heather B. Moore

  “No,” Brighton said. “I need to get back to my hotel and get at least some sleep before flying out tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Axel slid his hands down her arms, and she unfolded her arms. They linked fingers.

  “So keep me posted,” she said in a soft voice. “About your head and stuff.”

  “I will.” He leaned down and kissed her. Brighton kissed him back, but she didn’t wrap her arms around him or anything. He really wished Dawg weren’t just inside the room, but he was Brighton’s ride.

  Axel sighed and drew away. “Okay, go and sleep. I’ll sleep too. When you’re back in Seattle with some time on your hands, come over.”

  She met his gaze. “All right, I’ll see you later.”

  He hoped she meant it.

  Brighton headed into the room, and Axel followed.

  “Can you take Brighton over to her hotel?” Axel asked Big Dawg.

  Dawg turned off the TV and stood from the bed. “Yes, sir.”

  They all headed to the hotel door, and Brighton stepped into the hallway first. Axel grabbed Dawg’s arm to stall him. “Get her there safely,” Axel said, his voice low.

  Dawg looked back at him and grinned. “I will. Sleep tight.”

  But Axel wasn’t finished. He tightened his grip. “If you try anything—”

  “Easy, Axe.” Cole thumped his shoulder. “I’ll get your lady to her hotel safe and sound. Cross my Texan heart.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Brighton smiled when she saw Gabe waiting for her at the front of the terminal. She quickened her step, wheeling her carry-on luggage behind her. They were on the same shift today, and Brighton had to admit, that news had made her happy.

  It had been five days since she’d left Axel’s hotel room in LA. He hadn’t played the next night against the Sea Rays because of his concussion. As far as she knew, he was holed up in his Seattle condo, supposedly resting.

  He’d called her every day, and sometimes his calls went into voicemail because Brighton was thirty thousand feet above the earth. She’d call him back, but if he didn’t pick up, she’d send a text. Mostly he asked when she was coming over, and mostly she told him she was working.

  Once he’d texted over the empty container of the soy ice cream: All out. I accept in-person deliveries.

  Even though Brighton had been a head case the last time she’d seen him, he was still teasing her, still flirting, still acting like she hadn’t gone all cuckoo on him.

  “Hi, Gabe,” she said when she reached him.

  He wrapped an arm about her shoulder, then squeezed and let go. “You’re looking, um...”

  Brighton raised her brows. “Like I haven’t been sleeping?”

  “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it.” Gabe winked. “You do look tired. Are you okay?”

  Brighton sighed and started walking down the terminal, Gabe with her. “I’m okay. It’s just that the stuff with Axel is really weighing on me.”

  “You mean the fact that a filthy-rich professional baseball player, who helps with kid charities and takes care of his single mom and sister and is completely into you... is weighing on you?”

  She grimaced. “I’m pathetic, huh?”

  “You’re... protecting your heart.”

  Brighton slowed her step and glanced over at Gabe. She’d fully expected him to continue his snark, but his tone was serious. They were in a busy airport and had to report to their flight in twenty minutes, but Brighton drew Gabe to a group of empty chairs.

  “I thought I was in love with Leo,” she said. “And when he called things off, I was a mess. And I feared that I’d turn into my mom. Moving from man to man, never finding someone to replace the love of my life.”

  Gabe nodded. “I get that. But Axel’s not Leo.”

  “I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I realize now that I wasn’t in love with Leo in the way I should have been. It was more the idea of him, the flattery of being singled out, and the thought of having a ring on my finger to prove that I belonged to someone and he belonged to me. It was a sense of security, I guess, that I hadn’t felt since my dad died.”

  “Honey.” Gabe set his hands on her shoulders. “Leo broke your heart. But I’ve listened to everything you’ve said about Axel. And he’s the real deal.”

  Brighton’s eyes stung, and she blinked away any impending tears. “Do you know what hurt the worst about Leo?” she said. “The rejection of his family. I wasn’t being rejected by just Leo, but by his parents as well. They were a united front.”

  Gabe squeezed her shoulders, then dropped his hands. “Axel’s sister likes you, so you’ve got no worries there, except for irrational teenage moods to deal with. But it sounds like Axel and his mom get the brunt of those.”

  Brighton closed her eyes for a second and gave a small smile. “Yeah, Silvia’s been unexpected. We’re both reading The Scorpio Races right now.”

  “There’s such a thing as racing scorpions?”

  “They’re horses, like water horses that are incredibly fast and only emerge from the sea when... never mind.” She puffed out a breath.

  “Okay, so you’ve just got to meet his mom,” Gabe said.

  “Yes.”

  Gabe waited, and when she said nothing more, he prompted. “So... ?”

  “I’m stalling.”

  Gabe snorted. “Obviously. It’s been a week since he told you, and you’ve come up with every excuse in the dating handbook to avoid visiting his poor injured self.”

  “I know, right?” Brighton already felt guilty enough without Gabe pointing it out. “I’m lame, and I can’t believe he’s still texting me. And calling me. And saying sweet stuff.” She narrowed her eyes because Gabe was grinning. “What?”

  “You’ve just proved, to yourself, how Axel is different from Leo.” Gabe folded his arms. “I have an idea.”

  “Okay...”

  “When we get back to Seattle, go over to his mom’s place and introduce yourself,” he said. “Maybe you’ll become instant best friends, and everyone can live happily ever after. I sure could use the break from the drama.”

  Brighton slugged his shoulder. “Hey. What are friends for, if not to bring drama into your life?”

  Gabe chuckled. “Seriously, it’s a good plan, right? No pressure from anyone else. Just you and her having a conversation. Then you’ll know.”

  “Then I’ll know?”

  “You said when you first met Leo’s parents, you immediately knew there was tension.”

  Brighton folded her arms. “I did.” Her thoughts had been a jumble for so many days, yet Gabe’s suggestion made sense, although it made her nervous for a different reason. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Gabe hooted, then pulled her into a hug.

  Brighton drew away with a laugh. “Let’s not celebrate too early. You know I’m going to be a nervous wreck.”

  Gabe was still grinning. “But doesn’t it feel good to make a decision?”

  “Strangely, yes,” she said.

  He winked. “Because it’s the right one.”

  And that’s how Brighton found herself driving her little Hyundai into the guest parking lot at Axel’s condo complex the next afternoon. It had rained in the morning, but now the late-spring weather was warm and fragrant.

  Brighton climbed out of her car and scanned the complex. Axel had said his mom was three places down, and she remembered the direction his sister had gone that night. But she might have to knock on more than one door. His mom might not even be home, or worse, his mom was home and Axel was over there too.

  Brighton brushed the skirt and blouse she’d worn. After taking a deep breath, she walked toward the sidewalk that meandered in front of the condos. She figured that Silvia would be at school this time of day, and Brighton would at least avoid that complication.

  When Brighton reached the door of the place she assumed was Mrs. Diaz’s, Brighton knew this was her last chance to turn back. But she’d promised Gabe, and she’d promised herself, and she
owed it to Axel—whether he knew anything about this or not.

  Brighton rang the doorbell after a silent debate about whether to knock or ring the doorbell. When she heard footsteps approaching the door, she felt hot and cold at the same time.

  The woman who opened the door was definitely Axel’s mother, unless he had an aunt he hadn’t told her about. She wore a dark-yellow knit shirt and tan slacks, along with a yellow-and-blue scarf tied at her neck. Her brown hair was short, wavy, and threaded with gray. Her eyes were a darker brown than Axel’s, more like Silvia’s. But the arch of her brows was similar to Axel’s.

  “Hi, Mrs. Diaz?” Brighton said, marveling at how normal her voice sounded.

  The woman’s brow crinkled. “That’s me. Can I help you?”

  So polite. “I’m, uh, Brighton West, and I’m a friend of—”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, scanning Brighton from head to foot. “He said you were tall, but you’re not that tall, so I don’t know what he was talking about.”

  Brighton blinked, not sure how to respond. She was five eight, and Mrs. Diaz was five feet, max.

  “Did you go to the doctor appointment with him?” Mrs. Diaz continued, not giving Brighton a chance to answer. She put a hand on her hips. “That boy. I offered to go. He said he was fine on his own, but I guess he was taking you.”

  “Um, I don’t know anything about the doctor’s appointment,” Brighton had to cut in to say something. “I came over to meet you. I haven’t even seen Axel today.” Technically, for several days.

  Mrs. Diaz stared, momentarily silent. “You came to meet me?”

  “I did.”

  She smiled. “Well, it’s about time. I told Axel to bring you over, but he keeps saying you’re out of town. But you’re not out of town at all if you’re standing on my doorstep. Come in. I’ve got banana bread I just made, and I’ll tell you a secret. Adding some overripe guava makes all the difference.” She pulled the door wider and motioned for her to come in.

  Brighton’s stomach was fluttering, but she stepped inside. If Axel’s place was under-decorated, his mother’s place more than made up for it. Potted plants were on almost every surface, and her white couch was piled with different-colored throw pillows. Multicolored area rugs scattered the floor. And it smelled heavenly of baking goodness.

  “Don’t mind the mess in the kitchen,” Mrs. Diaz said. “I’m not a clean-as-you-go baker, you know how they are on those baking shows? I’m more of a morning cleaner, so whatever I do in the afternoon has to wait to be cleaned up the next morning.”

  The kitchen was cheerful with peach-colored walls and a decorative shelf of plates, and yes, there were ingredients, bowls, and mixing spoons taking up most of the space on the granite island.

  “It’s cooled enough that you can try a slice,” Mrs. Diaz said.

  Before Brighton could get a word in edgewise, she’d been instructed to sit at the kitchen table and handed a plate of banana bread and a fork.

  “Eat, eat,” Mrs. Diaz said. “Do you want some juice? Or are you like Axel and stick to water? I don’t know how the boy does it. If I don’t have my coffee in the morning, then my tea, and more tea...” She stopped, waiting expectantly.

  “I’ll have some juice,” Brighton said.

  “Lovely, that’s just lovely,” Mrs. Diaz continued as she opened the refrigerator. “Silvia wants me to keep soda in the refrigerator, but I told her no way. It will rot her teeth. If she wants bad teeth, then she’ll have to get them someplace else, other than my house.”

  Brighton smiled. “Is Silvia at school?”

  “Yes, but it’s half day, and I told her if she’s not home by two, she’s cleaning the kitchen.”

  The nerves that had been on simmer, kicked up again. It was 1:50 p.m., and just as Brighton realized that it would be impossible to eat the banana-slash-guava cake and make an escape before two, she heard the front door open.

  “Mo-om,” Silvia’s voice sailed into the kitchen. “Did the mail come yet?”

  Mrs. Diaz rolled her eyes. “She’s always ordering makeup online. Goes through her allowance like it was nothing.”

  Silvia walked into the kitchen, backpack slung over her shoulder, a million rips in her jeans, and her hair pulled into a high ponytail. “Oh. I didn’t know... Brighton?”

  “Hi,” Brighton said.

  “Axel didn’t tell me you were in town,” Silvia said, setting her backpack on the floor.

  Her mother tsked and moved to pick it up. Silvia, oblivious, dropped into the chair next to Brighton.

  “So Axel doesn’t know you’re here?”

  “Not exactly,” Brighton said. “I wanted to meet your mom.”

  Silvia’s brown eyes widened. “He’s going to be so surprised.”

  “I have to leave soon, so I don’t think—”

  “Oh! Did you get to the race yet?”

  Brighton’s mind had to shift to clue into the fact that Silvia was now talking about the book they were both reading. “Yeah. I’m on chapter eight.”

  Silvia sighed. “Don’t you think Sean Kendrick is dreamy?”

  Brighton smiled. “Definitely dreamy.”

  “Why Silvia talks about characters in books as if they were real people, I don’t know,” Mrs. Diaz said. “The girl is either in her room with a book or with those friends of hers, up to no good.”

  Silvia rolled her eyes, just like her mom had earlier. “Did you know there’s going to be a movie made?”

  “That would be cool,” Brighton said.

  “Movies ruin the book, is what I say,” Mrs. Diaz said, setting a glass of juice in front of Brighton.

  “Thank you,” Brighton said. “This is delicious, by the way.”

  Mrs. Diaz smiled. “Oh, well, I keep changing things each time I make it. You should stay for dinner. I’m making Chinese chicken salad; you know there’s no dairy in it. Axel told me you’re allergic. He told me you eat soy ice cream, so I guess you just have to get used to whatever you can eat. Although I’m not really an ice cream eater anyway. I like my desserts warm. If you don’t have to rush off or fly somewhere, then we’re eating about five.”

  This was it? Axel’s mom was already inviting her to dinner and acting like it was no big deal they’d only met a few minutes before?

  She was feeling warm and fluttery, but she really should talk to Axel. She wasn’t going to have dinner with his mom and sister, as if she were suddenly part of their family, without Axel somehow being involved.

  Silvia clamped a hand on Brighton’s arm. “There’s Axel. I hear his motorcycle. Come on. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you.”

  Brighton was pretty sure her heart had stopped.

  Silvia scrambled to her feet and tugged Brighton up. “Hurry. Or he’ll just go into his place.”

  Somehow Brighton found herself being drawn into the living room by Silvia, who then opened the front door.

  Silvia stepped outside and called out to her brother.

  Brighton hovered in the doorway to see that, sure enough, Axel had pulled into the driveway of his condo on a motorcycle.

  “Axel,” Silvia called again, waving wildly.

  He turned his head and obviously saw his sister, then he shut off the engine.

  Axel looked really good on a motorcycle, Brighton decided. Well, he looked good anywhere. He pulled off his helmet, then climbed off the machine. Brighton knew she was staring, although he hadn’t noticed her in the doorway yet. His T-shirt only emphasized his lean, muscled physique, and his jeans were... well...

  “Go over there,” Silvia said, turning to Brighton. “He’s going to be so surprised.” Her eyes glinted with humor. “Once my mom starts talking to him, conversation over, if you know what I mean.”

  Brighton did know what she meant. So she stepped on the porch, even though her pulse was hammering like mad. She started down the stairs, watching where she was going and knowing that surely Axel had seen her by now. When she
reached the bottom of the steps, she looked up.

  Axel hadn’t moved. He was still standing in front of his motorcycle, his helmet in hand. She continued to walk toward him. Every inch of her body was buzzing with anticipation. As she neared, the heat of his gaze grew warmer. The edges of his mouth had lifted, not quite in a smile, but more in amusement.

  “Hi,” she said, breathless by the time she reached him.

  “You’re here. In Seattle.”

  She held back a smile. “I am.” Still breathless. He and his motorcycle were only a couple of feet from her.

  “And... you were at my mother’s,” he said, his voice low, his gaze questioning.

  “I was.”

  He scanned her face, his gold-brown eyes soaking her in. “Did she kick you out?”

  Brighton’s mouth twitched. “No, she invited me for dinner.”

  Axel smiled.

  And Brighton smiled back, her heart rising to her throat.

  “She’s not so bad then,” he said.

  Brighton laughed. “You told her I am allergic to dairy.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I told her a lot of things about you.”

  “I noticed,” she said. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and she couldn’t decide if she liked the groomed Axel or this wilder version of him better.

  He hooked his helmet on one of the handlebars. “Come here.” He held out his hand.

  It was like being pulled by a magnet. Brighton took the last remaining steps toward Axel. He rested his hands on her hips. The warmth and solid weight of his fingers sent heat buzzing through her.

  “You surprised me,” he whispered.

  “Good surprise or bad surprise?”

  He leaned down. “Good surprise.”

  Brighton had missed everything about him: his eyes, his voice, his scent, his touch... And he was going to kiss her. In the middle of his neighborhood, with his sister probably watching, and maybe even his mom.

  “I missed you,” he said, and she was pretty sure if it was possible to get lost in someone’s gaze, she was totally and completely lost.

  “I know, you keep telling me,” she teased.