Going All the Way (Knights of Passion Book 1) (27 page)

“Why can’t you just support me?” Why did it always have to be about him? Just once, could he call her and ask about her, be concerned for her? Tell her she was doing a good job?

“Why can’t you do as you’re told?” he growled, clearly exasperated and confused by her refusal to kowtow to him like usual.

Stacia sighed. Why bother? The old man was never going to change. “Did you call for a reason?”

“Of course. Why else would I call you?”

“I don’t know. To say hi, see how I’m doing, tell me you love me.”

“Don’t be foolish. I have a political event tomorrow night and I need you to act as hostess for me. It’s a charity event for something or other. Doesn’t matter. You will accompany me.”

“What about Mommy Dearest? Is she having more work done?” She wasn’t a child and refused to be treated like one. If this job had taught her anything, it’s that she could work in areas other than politics and be successful. And feel less dirty. She would not drop everything for her father just because her stepmother wanted more plastic surgery.

“Don’t be rude, Stacia. Actually she is… unavailable.” He stumbled uncharacteristically in the middle of the sentence, unlike her smooth and polished father where every word was bitten off specifically for the situation.

“Really?” Stacia leaned back in her chair. “I thought that wasn’t allowed.”

He huffed, another uncharacteristic sound. “If you must know, she and I are divorcing.”

Stacia shot straight up in her chair, not bothering to suppress her grin. “What happened? I thought you were both so happy.” The sarcasm slipped out but he ignored it as he did most things he didn’t like.

“Irrelevant, but it’s damned inconvenient. The political season is heating up and I need someone by my side. The event is at the—”

“I never said I would go, Father.” Stacia interrupted quietly. “I’m sorry about Vanessa, but I can’t go.”

“Nonsense. Of course you’ll go. You always go.”

“When you have no one else. You don’t care who is with you, only that someone is. Just once I’d love a call from you asking how I am instead of ordering me about. Then, when I don’t do it, you blow up and tell me how awful I am. Just once, I’d like to hear you’re proud of me and want to talk with me, actually be interested in my life.”

“Then do something I can be proud of.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears and her chest choked up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go. Find one of your political allies or better yet, Representative Glazier, to attend with you. You’d probably be happier that way anyway.”

She closed the phone quietly before he could reply. The small sense of victory she had felt at the beginning was replaced by the realization that she would never be good enough, no matter what she did. A tear dropped onto her hand, followed by another. She stared at it, uncomprehending. It had been so long since he had made her cry. Right after her mother’s funeral, when he demanded she cry for the camera, but do it pretty. Cold bastard.

A tissue dangled in front of her eyes and she looked up to see Jason standing next to her. Relief swamped her and a need to let go threatened to open the floodgates. He took the tissue and wiped her eyes gently, then drew her up and into his arms, his warmth seeping into her suddenly cold body. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, soothing and providing comfort while she cried.

After a few minutes, she gathered herself and, sniffing occasionally, wiped her face. “How do I look?” she asked through a watery smile.

He smiled, tilted her chin and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, providing comfort and soothing, not asking for anything. “You look beautiful,” he whispered.

She laughed, a shaky sound. Instead of despising the weakness, as her father would have done, she accepted the emotion for what it was. “Did you need anything?” Hoping he would need her, just her. She held her breath for his answer.

He stepped back, putting a subtle distance between them. “Nope, just checking in. Why don’t you head home and we’ll connect tomorrow?”

She nodded and sat back down, opening her laptop. “Let me just finish a few things.”

He tugged her to her feet. “Call your friend Sophie. Grab some ice cream or whatever it is you girls eat or do when you’re sad and have a girls’ night. Just no strippers or porn, okay?”

She laughed. “That’s a guys’ night.”

“A guy could dream.” He handed her the laptop and her purse and pushed her out the door. “Now go.”

She took the bag and walked out to her car in a daze. When was the last time anyone had done anything for her, comforted her, and didn’t ask for anything in return? It was so nice to be held in his arms, safe and free. He accepted her for who she was, allowed her to be who she was and, dare she hope, loved her?

Shit. The realization hit her out of nowhere. She had fallen hard for her client, fallen hard for Jason.

*

After Stacia left,
Jason sat down heavily in the office chair and caught his breath. Shit. He was getting in too deep, way too deep. When had the job turned into something more serious, more like a relationship and grown up stuff? What had started as sex, then work, had changed. She was under his skin, burrowing her way toward his heart.

And he wasn’t even freaking out. No, he wanted to shout it to the world, announce it to everyone. More importantly, he wanted to head straight home and make love to her, all night long.

His head told him to run, run far, run fast, run away. She would only hurt him, like everyone else in life. She would use him and then toss him aside when she had what she needed.

His heart wanted to take the chance, wanted to open itself up to the possibilities. Maybe there was one person who cared more about him than about his money, career, job, and skill in the sack.

Was it possible Stacia truly loved him?

*

Stacia tried her
best to ignore the niggling feeling something was wrong. Something had changed between them and she had no idea what it meant. Her father’s words stung and drew blood, as they always did, and it had been great having someone to soothe the hurt.

Since she couldn’t figure out what the deal was, she did what every woman had done since caveman times. She called her best friend, stocked up on ice cream and cookies and got down to business. She dug into a pint container of the chocolate chip cookie dough frozen novelty with the ice cream scoop. She paused with the spoon halfway to her mouth and glanced across the coffee table at Sophie who was staring at her.

“Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

Stacia shrugged and closed her mouth over the cool treat, letting the vanilla slid down her throat, providing a soothing balm for her soul. Temporary though it may be.

“What’s the deal, Stacia?” Sophie lunged across the table and snatched the pint container out of her hand. Stacia glared and licked the spoon. “Ice cream is usually reserved for the break-ups, or lonely nights between jobs. So, what’s going on with Mr. Baseball?”

Stacia lowered the spoon, resting her forearms on her crossed legs. “My father called today.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Sophie shoved the container back across the table. “What did he want now?”

She shrugged. “The usual. To express his displeasure with my life choices, my dating, and to ask me to host an event for him tomorrow. He and Vanessa are divorcing.”

Sophie laid a hand on Stacia’s hand. “I’m sorry. But really, it’s about time, isn’t it? She was only a couple of years older than you.”

Stacia wiped her eyes, surprised to see the wetness on her shaking hands. “I know, but now I’m back on deck.” At Sophie’s quizzical look, she laughed. “I’m spending way too much time at the ballpark. It’s a baseball term meaning I’m about to be at-bat. I could have gone my whole life never saying those words! Now I think in baseball terms.”

“I know what it means. I had no clue that you knew.” Sophie leaned back against the chair. “So, how are things going with the baseball guy?”

“Jason.” She laughed again, the sound coming out shakier than expected. “Honestly, he was even great when my father called. He handled the fallout like a pro. Then sent me home.”

“Afraid of the tears?”

Stacia took another bite, savoring the flavor. “You would think. But no. He seemed fine with that. I can’t explain it but it seemed like there was a distance there, like he put up a wall. And I have no idea what to do.”

“What to do? Stacia, this is a job. While it’s unconventional, what did you expect to happen after the season? He would stay, declare his undying love for you, and give up baseball? Or you would give up everything and follow him to the next team, next city, next job?”

“I didn’t think about next steps. I was doing what my best friend had told me—live in the moment and don’t think about the future. Only now,” she paused, licking the spoon and staring out the window. “Only now, I’m in too deep.”

“You love him,” Sophie stated flatly.

Stacia nodded, the knowledge weighing heavily on her.

“Does he love you?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe, but I doubt it. This was a short-term thing, with an expiration date. An adults-only deal.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Sophie snagged the ice cream and dug her own spoon into the container.

“No idea. I can’t tell him. He doesn’t want any commitments. I can’t distract him now.” She straightened in her seat. “It’s only another week or so. Then we’re done. Once the season ends, I can let him go.”

Sophie arched an eyebrow. “Really? Can you really just walk away?”

“Maybe I won’t have to.” Stacia grabbed the container, hiding the hope in her heart. “Get your own dessert.” She ignored the deeper question.

Could she let Jason go? Maybe. But how much of her heart and soul would go with him?

A
few days
later, Jason and Stacia had returned to their old equilibrium, but something felt different. He was more aware of her and she seemed to sense the change in emotions. He wanted to talk with her about it but didn’t want to be assuming she felt the same.

Instead he decided to let the season play out and see if she hung around when everything was done. The Knights had clawed their way back and were tied for first place both in the division and the wild card. One more week of play left and they had tough teams coming up including their nemesis, Detroit. But he had to concentrate on the job and survive the old-timers’ game. Jason scanned the infield, registering some of the players he had played with in the past. No one he was close to.

He immediately felt Stacia enter the field. It was like a thunderstorm and she was the lightning, charging the air around him with electricity, prickling his skin with awareness. She spoke with Miranda Callahan then caught his gaze. In her eyes, he saw the same heat he felt and he wondered if maybe they had a chance at something more than sex. After the scene with her father, they both seemed to take a step back, as if considering the situation. Normally, this would be great. Cutting ties meant no awkward scenes later. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to sever the relationship.

Then her face clouded and she turned away and into the tunnel to the offices, without a backward glance. He resisted the urge to follow her, especially as he had a group of young guys peppering him with questions about hitting and his philosophy of hitting.

“Cody, what the hell have you done to your swing? You’re swinging at all the wrong pitches, son.” A deep voice sounded from behind Jason and he turned to see the GM, and another man who looked familiar.

Suddenly, recognition dawned and he made the link between Patterson and this man. Cody Patterson Senior, perennially on the Hall of Fame ballot but not quite getting enough votes. He had been a star on a cellar-dwelling team, then became a journeyman around the league, always getting the reputation of playing hard and a clutch guy, who never could stick. Jason had played with senior Patterson on his last team when he was a September call-up and Patterson was in his last season. He barely knew the man but remembered him as bitter and demanding.

He turned his attention to Cody in the batting cage. Cody subtly cringed at the censure in his father’s voice and then visibly steeled himself.