Bases Loaded (Mustangs Baseball) (3 page)

Tony squirmed
under Doyle’s intense scrutiny.

“I usually don’t
care who my players are off the field, as long as they stay out of jail and out
of the tabloids. I won’t cut you any slack, Ramirez. None at all. Your secret
club isn’t much of a secret among the owners and managers. This is the only
warning you’ll get from me. If I even suspect you have involved Clare in that
mess, you’ll spend what’s left of your career in the minors.”

For a man known
for masking his emotions in the dugout, Doyle made no attempt to veil them now.
He froze Tony with a death stare before he turned and stalked across the
ballroom. Tony breathed a sigh of relief, but he took the warning to heart.
That didn’t mean he would stay away from Clare.

He couldn’t stay
away from her. She was his.

Chapter
Three

It took two days
to find her, but when he entered the small booth housing the stadium’s organ,
he knew the wait had been worth it. He leaned against the doorframe and admired
the view. Bent over the console with her ass in the air, her backside reminded
him of a wrapped gift—one his hands itched to unwrap.

She sighed and
tucked a strand of sable hair behind her ear. Just that small gesture had his
cock aching for her touch. He imagined that sweep of hair brushing against his
skin, and his abdominal muscles tightened.

He had a good view
of one side of her face. Her cheek was flushed, her jaw tight with frustration.
He knew the feeling. For the last two days, he’d tried to find the Mustangs’
elusive organist, but most of the people he asked didn’t have a clue where to find
her, and the ones who did refused to say. But luck was on his side. He’d come
to the stadium to meet with HR and get all the employment paperwork in place.
Insurance, direct deposit, tax forms–all done. Nothing to do now but find a
place to live and wait for Spring Training. And find Clare Kinkaid.

Then luck stepped
in and gave him the opportunity he’d been waiting for. Coming out of the
Mustangs offices, he’d caught a glimpse of Clare stepping into the elevator. He
waited to see which floor she stopped on then followed her.

She mumbled
something that sounded suspiciously like a curse and straightened.

“Lose something?”

She let out a
squeaky scream and turned. Her blue eyes were wide with alarm, and while one
hand rested on the console behind her, the other rested on her chest. A lock of
dark hair swirled over her left shoulder and curled seductively around her
Mustangs jersey-clad breast.

For just a second,
he imagined her standing in his apartment wearing nothing but his jersey. He
was instantly hard and shifted to ease the pressure, hoping she wouldn’t notice
the bulge in his pants.

“Oh, it’s
you
.”
She dropped her hand to her side. “What do you want?”

It wasn’t exactly
the greeting he had hoped for He took a step inside the cramped booth, and she
seemed to shrink away from him. Damn. He’d never get anywhere with her if she
continued to treat him as if he was a walking STD.

“This is where you
work?” He tore his gaze from the most interesting thing in the room—
her
—and
looked around. There wasn’t much to see, just an old-fashioned organ and a
small control panel. A neatly folded hunk of gray plastic he assumed was a
cover sat off to one side. On the other side, a headset hung from one of those
stick anywhere plastic hooks adhered to the wall. A plate-glass window afforded
a damned fine view of the field.

“Yes, and I’m
busy.”

So, she had a
bossy side. He liked it. He took another step in her direction, and she moved.
He peered over the console. “What did you lose?”

“My keys slid off
the window ledge. I can see them, but I can’t reach them.”

Yep. There they
were within easy reach of someone with long enough arms. He straightened and
turned to her. Maybe he could use this to his advantage. “I can get them, but
it’s going to cost you.”

She crossed her
arms across her ample chest and scowled at him. “Seriously? You want me to pay
you to get my keys?”

He smiled. “I
won’t charge much. Have dinner with me.”

Her chest heaved
with each breath she took. He found it very distracting.

“My eyes are up
here.” She uncrossed her arms long enough to point toward her face.

Tony obliged,
reluctantly. Not that he didn’t want to look at her face. She was beautiful,
and the warmth coloring her cheeks had him imagining how the color would look
on certain other body parts.

“Don’t you have
things to do?”

“Actually, no. I’m
surprisingly free for the next few months.” He mimicked her crossed arms
stance.

She huffed out a
breath that might have included another muffled curse. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

She waved a hand
in the air. “Why are you doing this? Why me? Do you get off on humiliating
women?”

His blood froze.
He bent and retrieved her keys and held them out to her. “I’m sorry if you
thought I was in any way making fun of you. I’d never do that to you, or any
woman. My mama would box my ears if I did.”

She snatched the
keys from his palm, folding them into a white-knuckled fist.

“I just want to
get to know you, Clare.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He
shrugged. Telling her she was his soul mate and he lusted for her day and night
probably wouldn’t go over too well, so he settled on a lesser version of the
truth. “You’re beautiful and sexy, and I don’t know anybody in this town. I’d
like to have a meal with someone on occasion, and I’d prefer my companion to be
easy on the eyes. There’s no one on the team who fits that description.”

A smile ghosted
across her face. “Well, I don’t fit it either, but since you got my keys for
me, I suppose….”

“Good.” He edged
his way to the door. “Ready to go?”

Clare covered the
keyboard, grabbed the tote she had come for, and glanced around the cramped
quarters to see if she had left anything behind she might need over the next
few months.

She hadn’t
forgotten the fundraiser. The humiliation still stung, but if she let those
kinds of instances rule her life, she would never leave the house. Besides,
he’d made the effort to find her. Her heart sped up just thinking about what
that might mean. Perhaps he was trying to make amends for his behavior.

Or, he could still
be toying with her. A man like him couldn’t possibly be interested in someone
like her. She smirked. Yeah, he would run far and fast if he had any idea the
kind of fantasies she harbored about him. But that was all they were,
fantasies. Hot, sexy guys like Antonio Ramirez didn’t get down and dirty with
plain women. Beautiful women threw themselves at him, and there were enough
tabloid photos of him with Hollywood starlets and supermodels to support the
assumption he enjoyed their company.

“Wait. Why are you
here—at the stadium?”

“I had paperwork
to do if I want the Mustangs to pay me, and believe me, I want them to pay me.”

“Oh. Well…are you
done?”

“All done. And
even if I wasn’t, I’d tell them to go to hell before I’d turn down an
opportunity to spend time with you.”

His voice was like
a sensual caress that made her skin tingle and her lady parts wish a
relationship with him could be real. He was new in town, and he probably needed
a friend. Her lady parts would just have to settle for what they could get.

She reached for
her purse. “Okay then, if you’re sure.”

He stood aside,
and she felt his heat as she scooted past him to the door. “I’m sure. But I
wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind. Doyle Walker has already warned me
to stay away from you.”

She stopped in her
tracks, turned. “He did? Really? When?”

“Yes. At the
fundraiser. Right after you walked out.”

She was going to
be sick. Uncle Doyle…what, stood up for her? Tried to protect her? Oh Lord, how
embarrassing. And in a way, more humiliating than what Antonio had done. She
was a grown woman. She could take care of herself. Well, she hadn’t handled the
situation at the fundraiser very well, but she had handled it. She didn’t need,
or want, her uncle interfering in her personal life.

“I’m sorry.” What
else could she say? God, he must think she was pathetic.

“Don’t be. I told
him to mind his own business.”

“You didn’t.”
Could the situation get any worse?

“Not in so many
words, but he isn’t going to keep me from seeing you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you here,
with me?”

“Because I want to
be. Because I can’t stop thinking about you. About doing this.”

He moved fast. One
arm snaked around her waist, the other around her shoulder. He hauled her body
tight against his before her brain could process what was going on and
formulate a protest. Then his mouth was on hers, stealing her breath, her last
thread of sanity, and her pride.

For a moment, it
didn’t matter she wasn’t stick thin or cover girl gorgeous. It didn’t matter
they were standing in a hallway and absolutely anyone might see them. All she
could do was feel. His kiss was everything she had ever dreamed it would be.
His lips were hard on hers at first, then softer, coaxing her to let him
inside. She opened for him. His tongue stroked hers, rimmed her mouth then
plunged deep.

She was lost. No
one had ever kissed her like this before. It was carnal. Hot. Seductive. Cream
your panties sexy.

Then it was over.
His large hand splayed across the back of her head, pressing her forehead into
his shoulder. She gasped for breath against his heaving chest.

“Shh,” he whispered.
“Don’t move.”

She couldn’t move,
even if she wanted to—which she didn’t. He held her in an iron grip. Blazing
heat warmed her front in counterpoint to the cold at her back. When had he
backed her against the concrete wall?

His heartbeat—or
was it hers?—thudded in her ears. Coming to her senses, she picked out the
separate and distinct sound of footsteps. Coming closer.
Oh God.
She was
going to get caught making out with Antonio Ramirez in the stadium!

He held her until
the footsteps faded away around the corner before his grip eased and he stepped
back.

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know.
Some guy. Maintenance staff, I think.”

She pushed against
his chest. He didn’t budge and inch. “Let me go.”

A work-roughened
finger beneath her chin urged her to look up. “No. I don’t care who sees us,
Clare.”

“What if he
recognized me?”

“So what if he
does? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

She shook her
head. “No. Heaven’s no. Why would you think that? I just don’t want you to get
in trouble with the team.”

“Don’t worry about
me. There isn’t anything anyone can do or say that will keep me away from you.
Not after that kiss.”

She groaned.
Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back. It hit the solid wall behind her
with a thud. “Antonio….”

“I like the way
you say my name. Everyone calls me Tony, but there’s something about the way
you say my full name with your molasses thick southern drawl that makes me want
to eat you up.” His lips nibbled at her jaw then down the exposed column of her
neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet brands in their wake.

Her knees shook,
and her lady parts all but begged for his attention. As if he’d heard their
silent pleas, his hands began to roam. Everywhere he touched—her hips, her
waist, her ass, her breasts—flamed with need.

“We can’t….”

“You’re right,” he
whispered in her ear and then traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his
tongue. “Not here.”

Chapter Four

The restaurant was
intimate and expensive. She had to admit the mood-lit, secluded booth provided
them with the kind of privacy not available at a lesser price. She couldn’t
imagine having the kind of conversation they needed to have at some place with
napkin holders on the table and high chairs in the aisle.

Antonio ordered
wine without looking at the menu. Clare waited until the sommelier moved off to
fetch Antonio’s selection before she spoke.

“What’s going on
here, Antonio?”

He rested his
forearms on the table and nudged the flickering candle in the center with his
index finger. “We’re getting to know each other.”

Despite the carnal
kiss at the stadium, she couldn’t shake the feeling he was toying with her
feelings. Lord help her if he was because she had gone from closet stalker fan
to hopelessly infatuated—and possibly crazy in love—the moment his lips had
touched hers. Not that he would ever know. Before her stupid heart got any more
involved, she wanted to know what he was up to.

“And why do we
need to do get to know each other?”

“Because I don’t
think I can keep my hands off you, and I want more than just sex.” He flashed
her a grin that made her pussy clench. “In the interest of full disclosure, I’m
hoping there will be plenty of that, too.”

The sommelier
brought their wine. Antonio went through the approval process like a pro and
sent the man away, explaining he preferred to pour it himself.

“I thought he’d
never leave,” he said as he filled their glasses with the expensive liquid.

“Look, Antonio, I
don’t understand what’s going on. I’m not your type.”

“Don’t say that. I
wouldn’t be here with you, and I certainly wouldn’t have kissed you like that,
if you weren’t my type. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you at the
fundraiser I had to have you. That’s why I bid on all the things you did. At
first, I just wanted to give you the things you liked then I realized everything
you bid on was something for couples to do together, and I wanted to do them
with you.”

“I didn’t mean to
win any of the items I bid on. It’s just what I do at those things.” She pulled
her wine glass close then pushed it away. Drinking wouldn’t make her admission
any less painful. “I can’t afford any of the stuff they auction at those
things, so I pick a theme and bid on items that fit in. Someone always outbids
me, but at least I help to escalate the bidding.”

“What was the
theme for Jason’s fundraiser?”

She changed her
mind about the alcohol and took a sip of her wine. “Romantic Interlude,” she
said, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear her words.

He smiled. “That
fits. I won them all.”

“That’s nice.”
Someone’s
going to get lucky.

“Don’t look that
way, Clare.” His voice had a hard edge to it, and she realized she was
frowning. “I want you to do them with me. Every last one of them.”

Oh.

“We can get to
know each other better.”

She stared at him.
Her mind replayed the list of bid items. Some were innocent enough, but most
were cozy, intimate things that could possibly—
would
probably—lead to
even more intimate things.

“Will you enjoy
them with me?”

She pointed a
finger at her chest. “Me?”

“I understand if
you don’t want to. I promise we can keep it quiet if you don’t want people to
know you’re seeing me.”

“No! I mean…I just
can’t believe you really want to…with
me
.”

“Let me prove it
to you. Some of the out of town things will require planning, but others we can
take advantage of now.”

“Like what?” She
couldn’t believe she was actually considering his proposal.

“There’s the spa
thing, for one.”

The bid item had
been donated by a very exclusive local spa, and if she remembered correctly, it
included several full-body treatments and a massage to be enjoyed as a couple.
That would mean getting naked or mostly naked in the same room with Antonio.

“Um….”

“I could use a
massage.” His eyebrows danced.

She narrowed her
eyes at him. “That’s disgusting.”

His laughter
filled the room. Heads turned. Clare ducked.

“Hush,” she
hissed.

“I wasn’t talking
about right now, but I like the way your mind works.”

Heat radiated from
her cheeks. This would never work. She had to get away from him before she made
a bigger fool of herself. She reached for her purse.

“Don’t go, Clare.
Please.” His pleading voice stopped her.

Go
, her
brain urged.

Stay
, her
body countered.

“At least have
dinner with me. I promise to behave the rest of the evening.”

Half of her wanted
him to behave while the other half would give anything to have him misbehave—with
her. She dropped her purse on the seat beside her.

“I’m sorry. I
misunderstood.”

“That’s okay.” He
relaxed against the booth, slinging one arm across the back. “If I tell you
something, do you promise not to run screaming out of the restaurant?”

“What?”

“Promise not to
run?”

She crossed her
fingers and toes. “I promise.”

“I was thinking
the same thing, but I didn’t want to say it. When you read my thoughts, I
couldn’t help but laugh. No one has ever done that before. Read my mind, I
mean.”

She tried to
contain it, but it was a futile exercise. Laughter bubbled up and spilled over,
uncontrollable. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and her side ached. She was so
in trouble with this guy. There was not a single doubt in her mind. She was
hopelessly in love with him. Just like she had known she would be if she ever
had the chance to actually meet him.

He ordered for her
while she used her napkin to dab at her eyes. Every time she looked his way,
she burst out in another bout of laughter. It was absurd, but he’d smile
knowingly at her and happiness tinged with wariness welled up and popped out in
helpless waves.

“I’m sorry,” she
said when the waiter left with their order. “Oh, God. I have to get control
here.”

“No you don’t. I
feel the same way, Clare. Happy. Scared shitless.” His face now was pensive and
helped her sober up. “I want you so bad I can’t think of anything else, and
somehow, I know when I finally have you, a lifetime won’t be enough.”

She was stone cold
sober.

“Spend time with
me, Clare.”

“I don’t get it,
Antonio. I’m no one special. I’m an organist. I’m—”

“You’re
beautiful,” he supplied. “When I said I can hardly keep my hands off you, I
meant it. I like a woman with curves. Making love to one of those stick thin
women is about as much fun as sleeping with a two-by-four.”

“Then you weren’t
making fun of me at the fundraiser?”

“Hell, no! I
didn’t even realize you thought that until it was too late. I can’t tell you
how sorry I am I gave you that impression.”

“It wasn’t your
fault. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.” Her face flamed under his intense
scrutiny.

“But you had
reason to believe a man would treat you that way, didn’t you?”

Oh, yeah. Lots
of reasons.
Her teenage years had been nothing but hell—moving from city to
city, changing schools, and never being accepted by the popular crowd because
she didn’t fit into the ultra-skinny mold. And there wasn’t anything on the
planet more brutal than a woman who hated other women. “I don’t want to talk
about it. Let’s just say you’re right and forget about it, okay?”

“I won’t forget
it, but you don’t have to tell me right now. Maybe one day you’ll feel like you
can talk about it with me. For the record, if I ever find out who made you feel
that way, they better stay the hell away, or I’ll make them sorry they were
born.”