Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance (6 page)

W
ednesday evening couldn’t come fast
enough for Jeanine. It was exactly one week since she’d had a man in her bed—one week after that walk of shame where she’d met her nemesis, Kirk Kennedy, the golden shadow who insisted on spending his evenings at her bar, chatting with the other ballplayers, but never leaving with any of the women who tried their hand with him.

It had gotten to the point that his teammates had started a betting pool on when Kirk would leave with a hot woman. Unbelievable. The man was a favorite with New York fashion models and worth millions, not to mention his family wealth. He couldn’t possibly be saving himself for her, could he?

Jeanine shook the delicious thought from her mind, despite how it made her tingle. Nope, he had more ulterior motives. She’d set herself up as a challenge, and men like Kirk could never pass by a challenge. He’d have her on his terms.

Sure, he wanted between her legs. No doubt about it. Coming from her background, she had a sixth sense when it came to men telegraphing their lusts. Every man, except for the gay ones, sized her up and wondered how she’d be in bed.

It came with the territory of being labeled pretty or fitting into culture’s image of beauty. It also came with a terrible burden. Pretty girls got in trouble early on. Pretty girls never lacked for male attention—and face it, ninety-nine percent of male attention was bad.

If Kirk “Cocky” Kennedy thought he’d win her over and turn her into a panting puppy dog with hearts in her eyes, he was in for a huge awakening. She could play him and not feel a thing. She wasn’t looking for love, money, fame, or any of the usual feminine desires. She had one big thing over him. He cared whether she’d get rid of him or not. She couldn’t care less if he walked away and never looked back. That was power.

Yeah, right. So why was she still quivering and frustrated at the almost orgasm he’d teased her with? The douchebag was more into power tripping than she was, but he wasn’t going to win this one. Not if she could help it.

Jeanine glanced at the clock over the bar and walked over to where Tina was pulling the beer taps. “Marcia’s doing paperwork in the office tonight, in case you need her. Wednesday nights are usually quiet being midweek. Think you can handle it?”

“No problem at all. You go have some fun.” Tina winked. “I know you haven’t gotten laid ever since I showed up.”

“Don’t let that bother you. I’m off to Vegas for the evening. Call me if you need anything.”

“Go, go. Get out of here.” Tina waved her away. It was a slow night and the bar was half empty.

Before leaving, Jeanine stopped in the tiny office she shared with her business partner.

Marcia sat on the couch staring at the wall. Everything about her drooped. Her hair was flat and greasy over her forehead, and bags sagged under her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Marcia looked up and rubbed both sides of her face with her palms. “Isn’t it your night off?”

“Are you okay?” Jeanine hurried to the couch and placed a hand on her friend’s slumping shoulders. “You look tired. How much sleep have you been getting?”

“Not enough. I can’t sleep when the baby’s sleeping.”

“Why? Aren’t you dog tired?”

Marcia yawned and nodded slowly. “Exhausted, but whenever I’m home, I feel like I have to watch over him—make sure he’s okay. But when I’m here, it’s like he doesn’t exist. And then I feel guilty about getting away and leaving Junior for Pappy to take care of.”

“You should go home then. I’ll stick around.” Jeanine rubbed her friend’s back.

“I can’t do that to you. You haven’t had a day off since Sunday and then you spent it with Bianca and Pappy.”

“You’re falling apart. Look at you.” Jeanine didn’t want to point out how unkempt her friend was. She looked like she’d slept in her clothes, and her hair was stringy and tangled. “Why isn’t Brock helping? Just because Pappy’s home all the time doesn’t mean Brock should be getting a pass on all this baby work.”

“He does help. As much as he can.” Tears leaked from Marcia’s eyes and she closed them. “But you know how it is with spring training. Everyone’s on evaluation, even the starting players from last season. Brock’s been screwing up. His concentration’s shot. I feel guilty for the baby keeping him awake.”

“You shouldn’t. He’s the father: he should pull his share of the weight.”

“He does. We both agreed that Pappy shouldn’t be the one getting up at night, so we take turns.” Marcia swiped at her tears “He’s home with the baby right now. He wanted me to get my work done.”

“Let me stay. I’ll get it done.” Jeanine grabbed a box of tissues and gave one to Marcia. “You’re tired, exhausted, and you need a break.”

“The work can wait until you get back.” Marcia blew her nose and heaved her shoulders. “Really, you should go. I’ll feel even more guilty if you don’t get your night off.”

“Then promise me you’ll go home right now. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. All of this can wait.”

“Are you the boss or am I?” The corner of Marcia’s lip raised in a halfway smile. “Now, get going. Besides, Kirk’s waiting for you, and he’s been talking up this trip all week.”

“He has?” Now she really wanted to cancel. “What did he say we were up to?”

“Not much. He insists you two are just friends, and that you have some kind of bet going on with him. Far be it from me to guess what you’re up to.” Marcia shook her head and yawned.

“I’m off to get laid, and not with Kirk,” Jeanine said. “A night in Vegas is an exciting change of pace. Kirk’s tagging along, because he feels the same way.”

“Well, be careful.” Marcia picked up her purse and extracted her car keys. “Kirk’s a real heartbreaker, so don’t set your sights for him. Brock says he’s a real sweet talker before he gets the goods, but once he’s gotten his rocks off, he’s gone like a flash in the pan.”

“I already know.” Jeanine’s stomach soured. “The first night I met him, he was doing his walk of shame.”

“While you were doing yours.” Marcia mustered up a chuckle. “Don’t you think that means something?”

Jeanine swallowed hard and pursed her lips. “Only means neither of us can be trusted to love and cherish until the day we die.”

After leaving the office, Jeanine called Marcia’s house.

Pappy picked up the phone. After a bit of small talk, she asked to speak to Brock.

“He’s not here right now,” Pappy said. “He stepped out.”

“Oh? When will he be back?”

“I don’t rightly know, but if it’s important, you can call his cell phone. You have his number, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I do. Thanks.” Jeanine said goodbye and hung up.

Brock was up to no good, but Pappy was obviously in the dark, being Marcia’s father.

“I bet that no good Kirk knows what’s up,” she muttered to herself as she marched to her car. They had a flight to catch, and while Phoenix to Vegas was only a short hop, she’d have Kirk’s complete attention at least until she snagged a hot man for the evening.

K
irk’s eyes
lit as he spotted Jeanine approach the Sky Harbor International Airport gate. She was wearing a pantsuit that made her long legs even longer. Chic, gorgeous, and well-attired, Jeanine could give any of his New York fashion models a run on the runway.

Even though she was late, she sauntered toward the gate as if the world awaited her and every man would step aside to let her pass.

The letters had been a big disappointment. Childish, written badly, full of fluff and sentiment. What kind of man thought like that? He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had dictated the letters to some ex-con who’d scribbled them with his messy and heavy handwriting.

Dear Jeanine, I can’t stop thinking about you and how great you look when you smile. I cannot stand it when we’re apart, because all I can do is daydream about you, how you laugh, how your hair bounces when you walk, how your lips curl when you’re teasing me, and how happy I am when you’re with me. I pull out your picture all the time and wish I can be with you. You’re my lucky charm and really special. I’m so glad we love each other, because what we have is really special. Yours, [drawing of a heart]

Kirk snorted, thinking of how devious his mother was to have sent him the purported love letters. He wouldn’t put it past her to have sent a private eye to track his business, but the likely story was that the private investigator saw him with Jeanine, took a few pictures, and his mother decided she was both glamorous and wealthy enough to be the mother of her grandkids.

Jeanine walked by him as if she didn’t know him. She flashed her cell phone at the boarding agent and strolled down the Jetway to her assigned seat.

Okay, so she was playing hard to get, except they were sitting next to each other. When she’d asked him to book the tickets, he’d made sure of that.

Kirk casually flashed the boarding pass on his cell phone to the gate agent and followed her, with several travelers in between them, to the awaiting jet.

Minutes later, he claimed his seat in first class. “I believe I have the aisle seat.”

She merely smiled and moved herself from the plush aisle seat to the window. First class meant the two of them would be alone in their row.

“So,” Kirk said after he sat down. “I have an hour to figure out how to be your wingman. We should work out signals.”

“We only need one signal.” Jeanine flipped him the bird. “And that means ‘get lost.’”

“Actually, I’m serious about helping you find the guy of your dreams.” Kirk wrapped his fingers around her middle finger and stroked it. “So, tell me what’s your type. Tall, dark, handsome? Gangster chic? Blue collar hunk? Celebrity or billionaire?”

“After you tell me your type.” She curled her upper lip at him. “I figure, if you’re going to be my wingman, I ought to be your wingwoman. Help you get laid.”

“I don’t need any help getting laid, and I prowl alone. No wingman needed.”

“I bet you’ve been wingman to your buddies.” She changed tack and glanced at him sideways. “You know, Brock Carter, didn’t you two used to be buddies in the minor leagues?”

He closed her middle finger back into her fist. “Rule number one for wingmen and wingwomen, don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Fair enough.” She flashed him an insincere smile. “How do you propose helping me pick up the guy I want?”

“Simple, I zero in on the girl he’s talking to, and you move in for the kill.”

“We’re taking people away from others?”

“Exactly. The more desirable people always have others interested in them. No wallflowers for me. You’ll see, having me around will attract all the best, most confident men.”

“Then I should have the same effect for you.” Jeanine quirked an eyebrow. “Thanks for paying for the tickets.”

“No prob. How many are you bagging tonight?”

“One’s enough for me.”

“I somehow doubt that.” He tilted his head and rubbed his chin. “You women are capable of multiple orgasms. How is it that you’d only be satisfied with one a night?”

Her eyes narrowed for a split second before she averted her gaze. “You assume too much, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Ah, so you’ve had some duds.” He put his other hand over the one he was holding. “Is that why you never give them a second chance?”

“No one deserves a second chance. You know that, Kirk. Not even you.”

“Why? Did someone break your heart? You must have fallen for a guy once. Someone who felt you were special—his lucky charm. Tell me the truth, Jeanine. Who was your first love?”

“Who was yours?” Her eyes turned to stone. “Or do you have no heart to break?”

J
eanine tried
to slow her breathing, but her chest was constricted and she felt lightheaded. Why was Kirk so fucking nosy? This entire trip was going to be a disaster. He seemed to have already forgotten his skillful finger work, acting as if she and he were mere friends, but her body reacted to his presence as if she was flambé to his steak. The airplane hadn’t even taxied to the runway and she was already hot, shaky, and stirred up.

Not to mention those words: lucky charm.

Why would he ask her something so personal?

Kirk let her last question hang and rubbed her hand. “Always so bristly, or prickly. Don’t you ever relax and let things be? You don’t have to prove anything to me. I’m trying to get to know you so I can help you find your night of pleasure.”

As if he were so charitable.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hang around when we get to Vegas. I don’t know what I was thinking suggesting this trip.”

He continued to rub her hand, sending all kinds of disturbing sensations zipping through her body. Instead of reacting to her brushoff, he only stared at her with those sexy, panty-melting eyes.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jeanine faltered, casting her gaze around for the flight attendants. Maybe it was time to take off. They didn’t do safety demonstrations anymore in person, but instead activated the onboard video monitors. Anything for a distraction from those eyes that seemed to draw her in and expose her, making her feel naked and vulnerable.

“You’re a curiosity.” He finally let her hand go. “I’m betting you haven’t found a guy worth a second night.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that.” Jeanine checked her lap belt and picked through the seat back holder for the inflight magazine.

“That makes me even more interested.” Kirk stretched his arms up and spread his leg into her space.

“Don’t let me bore you to death,” Jeanine said. “I’m really not that interesting. A small business owner, a woman who prefers to remain single. No real family to speak of.”

“Ah.” He leaned toward her, as if snatching a gold nugget. “I want to know why you have no family.”

Jeanine heaved her chest and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to leave her alone until she gave him what he wanted, yet, all her life, no one had ever really, truly cared to ask her about her family, or lack of one.

Even her friend, Marcia, had simply accepted that Jeanine was a foster child who got a job at sixteen and lived on her own, then put herself through college.

The flight attendants made their last sweep of the cabin before closing the doors, and the plane began its taxi to the runway. They’d arrive in Vegas in about an hour. Maybe she’d bore Kirk with her story and he’d leave her side once they deplaned. Then she’d get her recreational man and get her mojo back while it lasted. Enough mindless sex to take her out of that dark place long enough to last another week of grinding work and worrying about the people she loved.

“My mom left me when I was two months old.” She heard herself explain in a monotone voice. “I was never told what happened to her.”

Kirk didn’t make any sounds, didn’t say anything stupid or comforting. He simply kept his gaze on her, his eyes open and fully engaged. Nodding slightly, he gave her permission to go on spilling.

“Obviously I went through a series of foster homes. Some better than others. No one who hasn’t been through the system can truly understand. You try to make the best of it, but there’s always the uncertainty—never being comfortable, never knowing if you have to move on. And then there were the other children. Some were foster kids, others were the natural kids, and of course, some got adopted, and others kept getting shuffled from one place to the next.”

“I take it you never got adopted. Strange, since you were given up at two months—a blonde, blue-eyed, pretty baby, I’m sure, and no genetic defects.”

His words sucker-punched her gut, flooding her with the rejection she’d hardened herself against.

“Hey, I can’t explain why no one wanted me for keeps.”

The truth was worse than he could ever imagine. Oh, the men wanted her, but none of her foster mothers ever got close to her. And the attentions of the foster fathers? Jeanine suppressed a shudder. She would not allow herself to be a victim. They’d loved her a little too much, but then, she’d loved them in return, before she was shuffled off to yet another home. Only, the last one took it too far. Way too far, and she sunk in too deep. No, she hadn’t been his lucky charm—no way, no how, not after thirteen years in the slammer. He blamed her for putting him away. And now, he was out.

An icy shudder ran through her body, and she drew in a deep breath.

“No offense meant.” Kirk rubbed her shoulder, misunderstanding her body language. “Maybe you were unlucky.”

“Or maybe I was lucky no one wanted me.” Jeanine bit her words hard. “It made me strong. The type of woman who can love herself, enjoy her own body, and feel no shame for taking what she wants.”

“How do you know no one wanted to adopt you? Maybe the paperwork was too much.”

“It doesn’t much matter anymore, does it?” Jeanine swallowed gall. “My own mother didn’t want me. I have no clue who my father is, and why should it matter if a bunch of foster parents only took me in for the checks? I don’t need anyone to want me.”

“I’m not saying you need it, but wouldn’t it be nice to at least feel wanted?”

“Pah. I feel that every time I walk into a room and every man looks at me a certain way. They all want something from me. Including you.”

Kirk’s jaw tightened and he blinked. “What do you think I want from you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jeanine huffed. “What do you see when you look at me?”

The airplane had taxied to its position on the runway and the pilot said, “Ready for take off. All flight attendants take your seats.”

Kirk grabbed ahold of Jeanine’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I see a determined and stubborn woman who gets what she wants. But …”

The engines whirred louder and the plane moved forward, picking up speed, its wheels bouncing on the runway.

“There’s always a but, isn’t there?” Jeanine muttered, more to herself than to him.

“Yes, the truth is, I see a lost soul, and I want to find that living, breathing, vibrant girl who’s hidden inside of you and bring her back.”

“Why?”

The whine of the jet engines grew louder, and they were pushed back against their seats.

“Why not?” He sealed a kiss on her lips as the plane floated off the ground, taking off steeply into the desert sky.

K
irk was definitely playing
with fire, but it didn’t matter. He’d never, ever been so interested in any woman before. Jeanine was a puzzle, an abnormality, a woman who seemed to have it all together—a business, beauty, and a strong personality—full of confidence.

A woman who didn’t need anything—not love, not companionship, nothing—or so she portrayed herself.

Her kisses, though, spoke volumes. Mouth open, she slipped her tongue around his and moved her lips in tune with his thrusting tongue. A moan slipped from her throat above the roar of the jet engines as the plane banked and made a turn toward Vegas. Her heat and the way she responded to him had him picturing her spread out on a bed with him. He had no doubt she was a voracious lover, her appetites running toward the kinky side.

He buried his tongue into her mouth and pushed her against the seatback, wishing he could touch her, explore her sensually, and make her scream with pleasure.

Except her hands were still clenched in front of her, and she was guarded, despite the sexy, mewing noises she made. She fought and kissed, a contradiction he found most intriguing, as if she hated the very thing she found pleasurable, yet at the same time craved that which she loathed.

Before she could muster the strength to push him away, he unlocked his mouth from hers.

She gasped and her eyelids fluttered, before she realized he’d broken away first. For a small moment, he thought he’d seen the real Jeanine, wistful and slightly lost, but like a shapeshifter, the cold, determined look of a master player morphed over her face and she narrowed her eyes, assessing him.

“I’m not afraid of flying,” she said.

“No, but has it occurred to you that I might be?” One side of Kirk’s lips twitched, giving him away. “I might have hyperventilated.”

“Liar. You’re a major leaguer. You guys travel all the time.”

“Ah, but never in the company of someone like you.” He kept his gaze on her clear blue eyes. “Mark my words. I’m going to figure you out.”

“I told you already. There’s nothing to figure out. I have wants and no needs. I take what I want, and leave all the rest.”

“What’s in the rest that you leave?” He raised one eyebrow. “Friendship?”

“I have friends.”

“Security?”

“I’m self-reliant.”

“A home?”

“My home is wherever I am.”

“A lover?”

“I have plenty.”

“How about a family, kids, a husband, a minivan, a golden retriever, a white picket fence, and a house in the suburbs?”

She shook her head and smiled. “You’re a smart man. Do I look like I want any of that? What I want, I get.”

“So, you’re satisfied with being single and playing the field?”

“The same way you are.” She tapped his chest. “Pot calling the kettle black.”

“How do you know that?” He grabbed her hand, loving the way she always flinched before softening. “I might want all of that in a few years.”

“Really? You’d want a husband to go with that minivan, golden retriever, and white picket fence?”

Now she was teasing and smiling, and her eyes sparkled with mischief, and the mask relaxed on her face, briefly.

“I would want a wife, ideally, but she has to be truthful and someone I can trust. I haven’t met anyone I can trust.”

“Me either, but I’m not looking.”

“Not even a little bit?” He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “No fairy tale prince sweeping you off your feet?”

“None, whatsoever. I told you. I had no parents, no family, no dreams. I’m a survivor. No one can take that away from me.”

He wanted another kiss, another indication that he would be the one to plant a dream in her soul, that he would find the key to unlock her heart, and find it full of loyalty and devotion.

He brushed his fingers through her hair and rested his lips on her forehead. “No one will ever take anything away from you.”

“What if they already have?” she whispered, so low, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

His lips froze on her skin and he closed his eyes, suddenly worried about how fragile and delicate this woman was, like the robin’s egg he’d accidentally stuck his finger in while climbing a tree.

The sickening feeling engulfed him at the same time the airplane jittered and jumped, surrounded by turbulence. This was no longer a game. This was a precious woman’s shell that, if broken, might never be put back together again.