She couldn’t believe he would discuss this now.
“Is that your manager on the line?” She felt a little starstruck to think baseball legend Jeff Rally might be waiting on hold.
“Yes. But don’t think about that. Think about how you’d feel to travel with a major league team, never coming back here except for Christmas.” He frowned, the worry evident in his furrowed brow. “I can’t ask you to give up your career any more than you would ask me to give up mine.”
Naomi clutched his shoulders, her heart soaring to think about the kind of future they might have together.
“With you in the lineup, we have a shot at the pennant.” She spoke slowly so he’d remember how important that was. “I have the best interests of you, me and every Boston fan in the world in mind when I tell you that I can take a hiatus from teaching to cheer you on for as long as you can swing a bat.”
The lines on his forehead smoothed away and he wrapped an arm around her to pull her close.
“I am so crazy about you, sweetheart.” He planted a kiss on her lips that reminded her how much she’d be gaining by going on the road with him. “I swear you won’t ever regret this.”
“I know I won’t,” she assured him, grabbing his arm and wrenching it up so he could finish his phone call. “Now don’t keep a baseball legend waiting any longer.”
In her heart, she knew that Brody’s manager wouldn’t release him for the previous day’s offense. He’d been out of line, but not that out of line. Jeff Rally was known for running a tight ship, so it made sense that he’d at least throw the threat out there. But Rally hadn’t been in the game for most of his life by being the kind of manager who released players with a .660 slugging percentage.
And sure enough, her guess was confirmed by Brody’s easy smile, his heartfelt apology, and his promise to be on the plane to Baltimore by nightfall.
But then, that was something she understood about Brody. He could get upset and yell, but just as quickly as the storm cloud of temper came, it would be gone again. And he was as sincere in his apologies as he was with his outbursts. It was part of his charm, and she hoped the media and his fans would come to recognize the way this passionate, driven man could do more than just hit and field the ball. His bouts of anger could fire up team members who weren’t playing with heart. Brody Davis could fuel a whole field to excel.
When he closed the phone, he dropped it back in his pocket.
“Looks like we’re headed to Baltimore.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t believe you’d go with me.”
The rightness of her decision filled her.
“It’s August. There’s enough time to find a teacher to take my classes before school starts. And I think the kids I coach will forgive me for bailing on them a week before their season ends if I come up with some Aces tickets for a field trip.” She allowed herself to sink into his arms. Into the moment. “Too bad you tossed my keys into the middle of the woods where we’ll never find them again. You’ll have to walk to Baltimore at this rate.”
“Geez, woman.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked a possessive hand along her spine. “I understand you inside and out and you don’t know me at all.”
“What do you mean?” She tipped away from him to gauge his expression.
“I make that play an average of five times a night, five times a week.” He took her by the hand and pulled her toward the woods, counting off his paces as they walked.
“You think you’ll find those keys?” She rather hoped so because she couldn’t wait to start their new life. Together.
“Second base is 127 feet and change from home. And I’ve got killer aim. So as long as we stay in a straight line…” He ducked beneath a low-hanging branch as they entered the tree line. And right on cue, she could see the glint of silver ahead, among the pine needles and fallen leaves. “We’ll find them right where second base would be.”
Laughing, she picked them up, jingling their weight on her finger. “Except you didn’t account for the lack of rotation like a baseball would have, or the non-aerodynamic shape. I think you’re pushing it to suggest you got more than 110 feet.”
“And I think you forgot just what a rocket I’ve got for a right arm.” He looped his arms around her again and she was half tempted to pinch herself to make sure that today had been real. “But I don’t mind working harder to prove myself to you.”
She stretched on her toes to brush a kiss along his bristly jaw.
“You already made my personal highlight film. I know you’re pretty damn amazing.”
He pulled her hips to his, the heat of him already warming her body in the most delicious way.
“I’ve got another highlight film I want to make though.” Leaning down, he nipped her ear and backed her against the trunk of an old locust tree.
“Oh, really?”
“Actually a few of them. I think we’ll start with top ten lovemaking moments.” He picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Then we can work on top ten shower scenes. Most memorable ways to put my mouth to work—”
“Oh, my.” She thought she might overheat despite the ocean breeze.
“You know how I like to set the record in whatever I do.”
Her heart fluttered fast as she thought about the life he wanted for them. Being part of Brody’s world was going to be purely magical. Not because he was a big deal baseball player, but because he was a warm-hearted person who had never stopped caring about her. A passionate man who was ready to devote himself to her.
Tunneling her fingers through his hair, she pulled him close.
“Have I told you how much I love a man with a competitive streak?” She melted into a slow tangle of tongues she would put at the very top of her list for the best kisses she’d ever had the pure pleasure to receive.
SQUEEZE PLAY
1
SCRAPERS’ MONTERO NO STRANGER to New York’s Most Wanted List.
Lance Montero re-read the headline on a summary sheet from his publicist as he downed his morning espresso at the trendy new coffee shop across the street from his Manhattan apartment building.
His romantic eligibility status had landed him in some social column about the city’s bachelors. Which wasn’t a big deal on its own, but the piece had been picked up all over the country and generated a slew of personal articles about him.
That, in turn, made it look like his focus wasn’t on his game. The Scrapers’ manager had called him in for a meeting about it after the All-Star break, grilling him about his level of commitment to the team. To making the playoffs.
And damn, did that tick him off. If you ignored the press, you were labeled as inaccessible and not a “team player.” But if you attracted too much notice, you were a media hog.
“Can I get you anything else?”
The waitress returned to his end of the coffeehouse, her dark pantsuit a staple of the employees.
But she wasn’t the same waitress he’d had earlier. Her throaty voice wasn’t the same chipper soprano that had greeted him at five this morning and her perfume was subtle but distinct to a man who noticed that kind of thing. In fact, it was the appeal of her scent that pulled his nose out of the PR report he’d been reviewing.