Changing the Game (10 page)

“Something bothering you?” He pulled her closer.

She didn’t want to be close to him. She should have gone back to Saint Louis, but something brought her back here. She had no idea what it was.

You know exactly what brought you back here, idiot. You’re in love with him, and he’s probably using you. No, he’s definitely using you. And he’s probably setting you up, too.

She sighed, feeling stupid. She hadn’t felt stupid in a long time. She’d vowed no man would ever make her feel like this. So why was she letting Gavin?

“It’s just been a long few days.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He played with the ends of her hair. “Elizabeth, if we’re going to have any kind of relationship, you’re going to have to start opening up to me.”

She stilled, held her breath, afraid to move.

He’s playing you. Don’t trust him.

“Is that what we’re doing, Gavin? Having a relationship?”

“I don’t know. I missed you while you were gone. So maybe we are. Maybe I want to.”

He’d missed her? The giant hole in her heart filled up with longing and need. Part of her wanted to crawl up next to him, throw her arms around him, and tell him she loved him, that she’d been in love with him for years. The other part of her wanted to close off her heart and run like hell. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. This is just sex.”

He caressed her arm, letting his fingers trail up her neck. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. Not about this, anyway. I don’t really know what this is between us. I don’t have relationships with women, but I did miss you, so I’m pretty sure whatever it is that’s between us has become more than just sex. I kind of thought you had left for good.”

He sounded so sincere. She leaned back and studied his face, wished they weren’t shrouded in total darkness so she could read him better. “You did?”

“Yeah. I figured I pissed you off tying you up and asking you to talk about your past.”

“Oh. That. No. The sex was really good.”

He laughed. “Yeah, the sex between us is really good. But there has to be more.”

She looked out over the water, barely making out the whitecapped tips rushing toward the shore. “More sex?”

He made a low growl in his throat. “You’re trying to kill me. No, not more sex. If we’re going to take this any further, then there has to be more than sex.”

She wrinkled her nose. “More talking.”

“Yeah.”

“Talking’s overrated.”

“Now you sound like a guy.”

“That’s why you like me.”

“Because you’re a guy?”

She laughed. “No, because I’m not like your average woman.”

“You’re not at all like an average woman, Elizabeth. You’re not like any other woman I’ve ever known. That’s why I like you. You’re complicated. A giant pain in my ass most of the time. You frustrate the hell out of me. And I like that about you. But I don’t know anything about you, and that just doesn’t work for me.”

She swept her fingers across his goatee. “Mysterious is sexy, you know.”

He cupped her chin between his fingers and brushed his lips across hers. Everything inside her tightened as he took her mouth in a deeper kiss that lasted long enough that she thought he might forget about the talking part. She leaned into him, rested her palm on his chest, felt his heart rate quicken. But then he pulled back.

“Yeah, mysterious is sexy if it’s a one night stand. You’re not a one-night stand. You’re someone I want to get to know. Which means you’re going to have to open up and start talking to me.”

Once again he was heading down a track she didn’t want to follow. “You already know me, Gavin. It’s not like we’re strangers. You got a whole packet of information about me when you signed with me.”

He looked at her as if she’d just fed him bullshit. Which she had.

“Are you fucking serious? How dumb do I look?”

“What?”

“Your business portfolio is supposed to pass as getting to know you? I’m not talking about your bio, Elizabeth. I know where you graduated college and did your marketing internship. I know which sports agency gave you your start. But you didn’t start to exist in college. I want to know who you were before then. And if you don’t trust me enough to tell me—”

“Okay. Fine.” She pulled the blanket over her shoulders, wrapped her hair around itself, and pulled it into a makeshift ponytail. The wind had picked up, but the moody atmosphere outside matched her own. “What do you want to know?”

He tugged her closer and pulled the blanket over her legs. “Might as well start at the beginning. I want to know everything about you. You know everything about me.”

She did know everything about him. His family had become her family over the past five years because she had no family of her own.

“Well, let’s see. I was born and raised in Harrison, Arkansas. No brothers or sisters. My dad worked as a laborer, so he was in and out of work. My mom was a secretary, so she held down the full-time job. She was always working. I went to school, got decent grades. I was very lucky to get the scholarship to Brown—”

“Wait. We’re already on college? You skipped everything.”

“My childhood’s pretty boring, Gavin. I went to school. Not much to tell.”

“Did you have friends?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about them.”

“I had a couple of girlfriends. They lived on the same block as me. I wasn’t allowed to hang out with them until the weekends so I didn’t get to—”

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why couldn’t you see them until the weekends?”

“Oh. My father wouldn’t allow it. I had chores to do after school and dinner to put on the table. Then I had homework at night.”

He frowned. “But in the summer . . .”

“In the summer there were chores during the day. And I got sent to my grandparents’ farm a lot, so my parents didn’t have to wonder what I was up to during the times my dad was working.”

“The farm, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet that was fun.”

Her lips curled up remembering times on the farm, some of the best—only—good memories of her childhood. “It was, actually. My grandpa taught me to ride a tractor, and they had horses. My grandma taught me to bake pies from scratch—’ ”

He sat up straight and turned to face her. “Aha! You
can
cook.”

She laughed. “That was a long time ago, Gavin. I don’t remember.”

“So you say. I’ll bet you could remember. How many summers did you spend at your grandparents’ farm?”

She tilted her head back, trying to remember. “I first remember going there when I was about five. Last time I went I was sixteen.”

“So eleven years. That’s a lot of pie making.”

Her lips lifted. “Sixteen was a long time ago.”

He leaned back again, drawing close to her so he could nuzzle her neck. “Would you make me a pie, Elizabeth?”

She nudged her shoulder at him. “You’re out of your mind. I don’t cook. You’re supposed to cook for me, remember?”

“I’ll make you dinner if you bake a pie.”

“I don’t cook for anyone.”

“But you’ll bake for me, right?”

Sometimes he was like a kid. Exasperating. But it was one of the things she loved most about him. “We’ll talk about it.”

“No, we’ll settle it right now. You’re the great negotiator. You taught me that one yourself. We settle the deal while it’s on the table.”

“Bastard. And here I thought you never paid attention. Fine. I’ll make you a pie. Or I’ll try to remember how to do it. No guarantees. I might end up poisoning you.”

“I’ll take my chances. So, back to you being a kid. You got to see your friends on the weekends, right?”

“Yeah. I had two best friends, Lindsey and Denise. I got to swim in Lindsey’s pool in the summers.”

“Nice.”

“It was. We used to do everything together. Sometimes I’d get to sleep over at their houses but not very often.”

“Why not?”

“My father wouldn’t let me. Said my place was at home with my family.”

“Your father was strict?”

She snorted. “That’s an understatement. He ruled our home with an iron fist. My mother had to report in every second of her life. Where she was going, what she was doing, who she was seeing. God forbid she wasn’t at her desk if he happened to call her office. He’d go off into a tirade about that.”

“Why?”

“He had to be in control. His whole life was about controlling people. Controlling her, controlling me. The world would stop turning if he didn’t know what we were doing every moment of the day. That’s why he didn’t work much. How could he work and manage us at the same time?”

Gavin didn’t say anything. Dammit, why had she offered up so much information? She’d only meant to talk about Lindsey and Denise, and the fun they had. She’d meant to keep it light. But, oh, no, she’d just had to talk about her father.

“I’m sorry about your dad. That must have been hard on you.”

“I avoided him, defied him when I could.”

“And your mother?”

She pressed her lips together, determined not to talk about it.

“Elizabeth? What about your mom?”

“She did whatever he told her to do like the good robot she was. He told her to be home at a certain time, and she was. Canned goods had to be organized in a certain way in the cabinet, and they were. Towels had to be folded just right, or she had to do it over again until they were. She had no friends, because why did she need friends when she had him to take care of, and God knows he was a full-time job. She was supposed to spend all of her time with him.”

He reached under the blanket and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. That’s no life for a kid. There must have been a lot of tension in the house.”

She shrugged, tried to pull her hand away, but he didn’t let go. “It wasn’t that bad. I managed just fine.”

“It sounds like it was a nightmare.”

She didn’t want to answer, but something compelled her. “It was hell.”

“But you survived it. And knowing who you are now, I’d bet he couldn’t control you.”

She laughed. “No, he couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him. He tried, and he did when I was younger, but by the time I hit high school, he was too busy managing every second of my mother’s life and had to choose between her or me.”

“And he chose her.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Lucky her.”

“Do you see them at all?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not going back there. Once I left for college, that was it. I wasn’t going back there ever again.”

“Don’t you at least wonder how your mother is?”

Her shoulders slumped.

“I tried, Gavin. I tried to get her away from him, tried to get her to come visit me, because I sure as hell wasn’t going back there. She refused, said Daddy needed her and she couldn’t come.”

“So she chose him over you.” He swept his hand over her hair. “I’m sorry, honey.”

She batted back the tears that threatened. It had been too many years since she’d cried over what she couldn’t change. Never again. “She made her choice to put up with him and his demands. She has to live with it now. That doesn’t mean I have to.”

“So you never went home after you left for college?”

“No. Never. I was free and I wasn’t going back. I was on full scholarship, and I worked during school. I had no reason to go back.”

“So they never once came out to see you?”

“No. I’m sure my father was afraid if my mother left the state, she’d somehow escape him and he’d lose her. He was happy keeping her in that little town, and obviously she’d do whatever she was told.”

“She never called you or wrote?”

“Oh, sure. She’d call and ask me to come home at the holidays or during summer. Whatever Dad wanted her to say. After I said no enough times she stopped calling.”

He didn’t speak for a while. She knew what he was thinking. “You think I’m a cold-hearted bitch, that I abandoned my mother.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking at all, Elizabeth. You weren’t supposed to be responsible for her. Your parents were supposed to be responsible for you.”

“They were. They fed me and put a roof over my head. I got a decent education and I wasn’t abused.”

She heard his soft laugh and tilted her head to look at him. “What?”

“Come on. You’re smart, surely you know.”

“Know what?”

“Elizabeth, your father was an abuser.”

She shook her head. “No, he was a prick and a controller. But he never hit my mother or me.”

Gavin turned in the swing to face her. “Honey, an abuser doesn’t always hit. Abuse is emotional, too. Don’t you think that’s what your father did by controlling your mother, by forcing her to live in what was essentially a prison?”

Talking about it made her relive it, and she didn’t want to go back there ever again, had sworn she wouldn’t, not even in her mind. And she’d already spent way more time there tonight than she’d ever wanted to. She shrugged off the blanket and hopped off the swing. “I’m tired, Gavin. I had a long day and a long flight, and I’d really just like to go to bed.”

She walked away, didn’t look back to see if he was following, just headed straight for the bedroom, stripped off her dress, and crawled into bed without turning on the light.

She had to shut it all out, to forget, to shove the past where it belonged so it couldn’t come back and haunt her again.

Within a few minutes Gavin joined her, his body chilled from the cold air outside. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She resisted at first, but he wouldn’t let go of her until she relaxed her body against his.

He didn’t ask for anything, didn’t say anything, just stroked her hair. The silence and his breathing finally calmed her, and she was able to shut her eyes.

But she couldn’t shut out the memories. She’d never be able to make them go away.

NINE

RAIN AND WIND BATTERED THE DECK AND WINDOWS, coming down so hard Gavin couldn’t even see the chairs.

The rain kept them shut inside. That was bad. No game today.

No sunshine, nothing to do but stay inside.

That could be good.

While Elizabeth slept during the morning, Gavin went to the store and bought food. He intended to cook for her, felt bad about making her talk about a past that was obviously painful for her.

She’d had a rough childhood. A very rough childhood with a father who’d been abusive to both her and her mother. And yet she’d managed to escape and grow up to be a strong, independent woman, which said a lot about her strength and character. He wanted to talk more about it, but it was clear she wasn’t ready yet. Maybe she never would be, and it was her right to decide that.

But he admired her more for what he knew now about her. There were facets to Elizabeth he’d never known about, things about her that made him appreciate the woman she’d become. She’d done it all on her own.

Despite the game being rained out, he still had work to do. Workouts with the trainer and indoor batting practice with the batting coach. He left a note for Elizabeth telling her where he’d be, hoping she’d still be there when he got back.

He was gone most of the day. He had spent several hours on physical training, then batting practice, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with his swing. The verdict—nothing was wrong with his swing. As he figured, it was mental. The mechanics were all in place; he just had to connect bat to ball. And he would, as soon as the rain stopped and he got the chance to stand at the plate and swing the bat again.

He had to do a few media interviews late in the afternoon, then he was cut loose for the day and on his way back to the beach house. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised to find Elizabeth’s car in the driveway, but he was glad she was still there. When he went inside, she was curled up on the sofa, a steaming cup of something on the table in front of her, her legs crisscrossed over each other and her laptop sitting in her lap. She wore a sundress and a sweater, had her hair in a ponytail, and didn’t have any makeup on. She looked so young, almost like a teenager, when she lifted her head and smiled at him.

God, she was beautiful.

“Hi, honey. How was your day?”

He grinned and flopped onto the sofa next to her. “Just great. How was yours?”

“Productive, actually. Nothing like a rainy day to help one catch up with paperwork and phone calls. I got a lot done. You?”

“Workouts and batting practice and a few interviews. Trying to figure out why I’ve been oh-for-everything the past few games.”

She frowned. “You have? Why?”

He shrugged. “No clue. My swing is fine. Mental block I think.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “Too much sex weakens you.”

“I haven’t had any sex. You were gone. That’s probably the problem.”

She gaped at him. “Oh. I didn’t know we were being exclusive.”

“I believe I mentioned that the first night we had sex.” He arched a brow. “Tell me you didn’t go around screwing everything with a dick while you were out of town.”

She laughed. “I’m the one with the two-year drought, remember.” She laid her hand over her heart. “I’ve been totally faithful to you.”

“Ditto.” He swept his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth to his for a searing kiss that made his dick hard in an instant. God, he’d missed her, had missed fucking her last night. But last night she’d needed to be held, not fucked.

Now, though, as she climbed onto his lap and her breasts pressed against his chest, Gavin felt the warmth of her and inhaled her scent, and he didn’t want to wait. He needed her. She was a fire in his blood and constantly on his mind. She made his balls quiver, and all he could think about was sinking inside her.

He shifted her underneath him, spreading them both out on the sofa, positioning himself on top of her. He nudged her legs apart and positioned his cock against her sex, feeling the heat soak through her underwear and his jeans.

“Five whole days without sex, huh?” she asked, lifting against him with a wicked smile.

“Six now. It’s killing me.”

She swept her fingers across his goatee, then slid her hand down his chest and between them, cupping his hard cock. “Poor baby. How you must be suffering. We should take care of that right away.”

“Yeah, we should. How about right here?”

She gave his cock a gentle squeeze. “I’m just lying here waiting for you to get this inside me. I’m ready, Gavin. I’m wet and my pussy’s throbbing. Fuck me.”

He sucked in a deep breath, raised off of her only long enough to lift her dress up and take her panties off and unzip and remove his jeans, and then he was between her legs again, falling into her welcoming arms.

His mouth met hers at the same time his cock slid inside her. Unsheathed, he felt her, hot and slick, tightening around him as he thrust inside her.

He swirled his tongue around hers, and she wrapped her hand around his neck, her fingers diving into his hair. She lifted her hips and tightened her legs around him. He’d never felt anything like the sensations bombarding him all at once. His mouth on hers, his cock inside her, and his whole body pressed against hers. He fisted her dress, pulling the strap down on one side to reveal her breast.

No bra. He liked that. He bent and took her nipple in his mouth, feeling it harden against his tongue as he sucked.

“Gavin,” she whispered, arching her back and feeding her nipple to him, still holding on to the back of his head and keeping him there. Her body was fluid motion as she moved against him, and he was caught up in a tight ball of tension, ready to skyrocket into an orgasm that he’d held back for all these days.

All he’d done was think about her—how she looked, how she smelled, how soft her skin was. He popped her nipple out of his mouth and looked down on it, then dragged his tongue up to her neck and grazed her throat with his teeth, watching the goose bumps prickle her skin.

She smelled like vanilla, like sugar cookies, and he loved the taste of her. She was like his favorite candy—hard on the outside but a soft surprise on the inside.

She was his Elizabeth, and he didn’t think anyone knew her like he did. He didn’t think she’d ever let anyone know her like he knew her. And that made her a treasure. His treasure.

He lifted up on both arms and looked down at her. She was painfully beautiful without her makeup on, her hair pulled loose from her ponytail, all messy and perfect. He lifted and thrust into her, watching her eyes when he rolled his hips over her to grind against her clit.

She might keep secrets from him about painful parts of her life, but here, when they were connected, there were no secrets. She was fully open to him and she let him see her pleasure, how much she enjoyed sex, how much she enjoyed what he did to her.

She wound her arms around his neck. He pulled her up. Her legs were still wrapped around his hips as she slid right into rhythm with him, moving against him, riding his cock as she balanced her feet on the edge of the sofa, held on to him, and rocked against him, taking him right to the edge so fast he had to pull back to keep from climaxing.

But she wouldn’t let go. She tightened her grip on his neck and rode his cock, rolling her pussy over him and dropping down onto him, rubbing her ass against his balls until sweat poured down his face. He grabbed her ass then, gripping her tight and lifting her on and off him.

“Yes, like that,” she said, keeping her focus on his eyes as hers went dark green. “Make me come for you, Gavin.”

He dug his fingers into her ass cheeks and lifted her faster and faster, up and down on his cock. “Yeah. Come on, baby, come on me.”

When she tightened around him and he saw her jaw drop, he let go, shoving inside her with the force of his orgasm. She cried out and came, and the convulsions around his cock intensified, sending him spiraling out of control. He wrapped his arms around her and let his orgasm rip through him. Both of them shuddered against each other as he poured everything he had into her until all his limbs were shaking and he was breathless and spent.

He smoothed his arms down her back, kissed her neck, and held her, not wanting to let her go.

“I’m starving,” she said against his chest.

He laughed. “Good thing I went to the grocery store this morning.”

They disengaged, cleaned up, and dressed, and Elizabeth picked up her cup from the coffee table, grimacing.

“It’s cold now. Guess I won’t be drinking any more coffee. How about a cocktail? Or do you want to get dressed and go out to eat?”

“I’m making you dinner tonight. I bought white wine. It’ll go with dinner.”

She stopped on her way to the kitchen and pivoted, arching a brow. “You are? Does this mean I have to make a pie?”

“Nah. I was just teasing about that.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Okay.”

She looked like she didn’t believe him, but he went into the kitchen to start dinner. Elizabeth fixed them glasses of wine and sat at the counter, watching him drag out pans and ingredients.

“What are you making?”

“Pan-seared salmon with pasta and spinach cream sauce.”

She laughed. “No really. What are you making?”

He slanted her a look. “That’s really what I’m making.”

“I’m stunned. And will be highly impressed if you don’t poison me.”

He laughed. “I promise not to poison you.”

He put water on to boil, then put butter in a pan and added a piece of salmon. While that was cooking, he got out the spinach, washed it, and zested a lemon.

“You look like you know what you’re doing.”

He smiled at her and took a sip of wine. “I told you I can cook.”

“I guess you did, didn’t you.”

Once the salmon was done, he set it aside, threw more butter into the pan, and tossed the spinach in there. Once the spinach had wilted, he added the lemon zest and some cream, and stirred it with one hand while drinking his wine with the other.

Elizabeth inhaled. “Gavin, that smells so good. What can I do to help?”

“Are you sure you want to? I don’t want to ruin your cooking embargo.”

“Ha-ha. What do you need me to do?”

He gave her instructions for the garlic bread, so she busied herself with slicing the bread and preparing it. She set the table while he tossed the bread in the oven. By then it was time to flake the salmon and add it to the pan with the spinach and cream. He’d already added pasta to the boiling water.

Everything was moving along at a fast clip, just the way he liked it.

Elizabeth came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “A man that cooks. I might just never let you go. Do you hire out for parties?”

He laid the spoon on the stove, turned around, and kissed her thoroughly, making sure she understood just how much he still wanted her. “Depends on the payment plan.”

Her cheeks were bright pink, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the stove being hot. “Oh, I think I could definitely meet your payment demands.”

He patted her on the butt, and she moved out of his way while he drained the pasta and added parsley to the salmon and spinach in the pan.

While that heated up, he pulled the bread out of the oven, put some pasta on their plates, and scooped the cream, spinach, and salmon on top of the pasta, finishing it off with some fresh parsley. He brought the plates over to the table where Elizabeth had already poured fresh wine.

He waited while she took the first bite. Her closed eyes and murmured sounds of approval made him smile.

“Holy crap, Gavin. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be a chef? This is fantastic.”

“Thanks. And I like to eat but don’t always like to eat out. Told you my mom is a good cook and insisted we learned to fend for ourselves.”

She scooped another forkful into her mouth. More yummy sounds. He liked that.

“Fending for yourself is tossing a steak or burgers on the grill. This is cuisine. Men just don’t cook like this.”

He took a bite, enjoying her delight in his cooking. “This man does.”

She waved her fork at him. “You are a rare breed, Gavin Riley. Don’t tell too many women your secrets, or they’ll be lining up in droves to marry you.”

“You think so?”

“Hell, yes. You’re gorgeous; you play Major League Baseball, which means you’re a jock; you’re a millionaire; and you can cook, too? Women will swoon. I should get media to do a photo spread of you in the kitchen.”

He ate, watching the wheels turn in her head. Her eyes widened, and he knew the gears had clicked into place.

Shit.

“Oh, my God, the exposure would be fantastic. We could do the cooking angle, maybe get you on some of the cooking network shows, some of the morning shows, because they eat that up. The jock who can cook.” She grabbed a forkful of food and ate another bite.

“What else can you cook?”

He arched a brow. “Why?”

“Well, is it fancy stuff like this?”

“This isn’t a fancy meal, Elizabeth. It didn’t take long to make.”

“It doesn’t matter. It looks fancy and it tastes incredible. So tell me what else you can make.”

He ignored her. He was hungry, so he finished his food, drank his wine, and ate garlic bread, then fixed a second helping. Meanwhile, Elizabeth grabbed her laptop and ate while simultaneously typing notes.

“What was the name of this dish again?”

“Pan-seared salmon with pasta and spinach cream sauce.”

She typed, then looked over the top of her laptop at him. “Now tell me what else you can make.”

He sighed, pushing his plate to the side. “Pasta carbonara. Lime chicken with mango salsa. Steak fajitas with Spanish rice. Chicken Parmesan. I make a lot of stuff, Elizabeth. I don’t even remember half of it.”

She was wide eyed. “Really? This is great. We could do a cookbook. Or even a cooking show.”

“No.”

“What? Yes.”

“No. I don’t cook for a living. I play baseball.”

“You could do both. Are you kidding me? Women will go crazy over you. This will sell tickets like nobody’s business. I’ll make you famous.”