Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1) (13 page)

I stand up straight and take her in. Her blonde hair is pulled up, and I’m not talking piled on top of her head. It’s in big curls like my grandma used to wear in her heyday. Daisy’s cheeks are rosy, with her lips painted red. Her black dress sits somewhat off her shoulder and just below her knees and she’s finished off her ensemble with red high heels.

“You look…”

“Like a pin-up model?”

I catch her eyes and immediately look at her lips again. I feel myself getting hard just picturing her red lips wrapped around my cock.

“Fuck me,” I say as I try discreetly to adjust myself. She catches the action, but doesn’t have to say anything because the smirk is enough. She knows she turns me on.

“Daisy, you look fucking stunning.” This time she knows I’m serious as her cheeks darken. “You’re a classic beauty and I’m so honored to have you on my arm tonight.”

“This old thing,” she says as she brushes her hands down the front of her dress.

“I don’t care if it’s brand new, vintage or what – the fact is, you’re gorgeous and I’m going to have to fight every man as they try to get your attention.”

“Are you up for the challenge?”

I step into her apartment and place my hand on her waist. I bend only slightly, her heels making our height difference less of a challenge, and whisper into her ear. “If it means I get you all to myself, I’m up for anything.” I brush against her dress so she knows what I’m talking about. I don’t miss the sharp intake of air she takes either.

“Who’s at the door, Daisy?”

Daisy steps out of my hold and looks at me quickly before answering. “My friend, Papa. Remember, I told you I was going to dinner.”

“I need to meet him and make sure he’s a respectable young man.”

“Shit,” I mutter as I look down at my semi. I start filtering images though my head of the nastiest things I can while Daisy has my hand in her hers and is pulling me into the other room.

Her living room is decorated like everyone else’s with artwork and pictures on the wall. There’s a television in the corner with a love seat and recliner along the wall. Her grandfather sits in the recliner with his wheelchair next to him. Just by looking at it, I can tell it’s old and probably doesn’t function properly.

“Papa, this is my friend, Ethan. Ethan, this is my grandfather, John.”

I step forward and shake his hand. I have no doubt, that in his prime, he had a firm handshake and I make sure to show him that I do too. It’s a sign of a confident man, according to my father, and I want her grandfather to know that’s what I am.

“It’s great to meet you, sir.”

“I know you,” he says in a thick Boston accent. “You’re behind in homeruns if you think you’re going to be voted in for the derby. Don’t they have you practicing?”

I step back, not entirely shocked that he knows me, but more that he’s hounding me about my percentage. “I’ll work on those at bats, sir.”

“Be good to my Daisy, she’s fragile and the only woman who loves me enough to put up with my cranky ass.”

“I plan to take very good care of her.” When I say the words I’m looking directly at her so she knows I’m serious. She looks away and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. It’s not that I want her to fall at my feet and profess her undying love, but I want her to trust me. It makes me wonder who has hurt her in the past to make her like this.

“Sir, we have to go, but it was very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand again and this time I feel him put a little more strength into it.

“Someday, I’ll see you play live.”

“I’d like that,” I tell him as Daisy motions for me to go to the door.

Daisy says her goodbyes and meets me out front, shutting the door behind her. Right now would be the perfect time to kiss her, but I want to do it after she blows out the candles on her cake tonight.

I
may be biased but if that’s the case, I’m okay with having that title. Everywhere I look, men are staring in my direction. I’m a confident man; I know I’m good looking, but they’re not looking at me. No, these fuckers that I have to play nice with tonight have their eyes focused on Daisy. I don’t blame them. She’s fucking hot. She’s the hottest woman in the room and everyone knows it.

From the minute we walked in, men have drooled from a distance while the women have flocked to her. You would think that she’s famous or the honoree tonight, but that’s not the case. In fact, the honoree, who will be sitting at our table tonight, has barely even been spoken to. To me, that proves one thing: These women are motivated by their jealousy and only befriending Daisy to keep her away from their husbands, which shouldn’t a problem since she came with me.

Every lady in here looks the same, except for Daisy, with their long gowns and hair piled on top of their heads. She stands out among the drab and tired old looks, and has something that these women could only dream of pulling off. I know this because the lady next to me won’t stop yammering away about how she wishes she could pull off the fifties look.

For the first time in a long time, I’m not the one talking. I’m not the focus of attention. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but am happy to play the supportive role for Daisy, although the constant fashion talk is boring as fuck.

I’ve also yet to wish her a happy birthday. That fact alone makes me feel like a complete ass. I had a plan when we walked in, I was going to lead her to the bar and buy her first legal drink. I was going to give a toast and then wish her happy birthday.

When dinner is about to be served, I place my hand on her waist and nudge her in my direction. She understands my hint and excuses herself from the conversation. I lead us over to the bar and while we wait, I look down to find a smiling, radiant Daisy.

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes and no,” she says, causing confusion. She stands closer to me, pulling me down slightly to speak into my ear. “I’m having fun because I’m with you, but those women are talking about things I don’t have any clue about and it’s hard to play along.”

“High society women are like that,” I tell her. “They all have an agenda and you’re a fresh face in their pond of groupies.”

Daisy looks at me with bemusement and I shrug. It’s something I’ve come to learn about the people who have too much money to throw around. We step up to the bar when it’s our turn. My hand is on her back, refusing to move.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Um… a whiskey and Coke?” By the face she makes I know for certain she hasn’t had a drink like this before. I find that odd, since she’s in college, but it also makes sense since she’s been taking care of her grandfather. The last thing I want is for her to be puking on her birthday, especially tonight. Maybe on my next off day we can tie one on.

“The lady will have a Seabreeze and I’ll have a Sam Adams,” I tell the bartender who looks at Daisy for a brief moment. I’m guessing he’s trying to figure if she’s legal or not, or he could be eyeing her like every other dude in this place.

“What’s a Seabreeze?” she asks, leaning into me. I find this naïve part of her cute. My sister likes this drink, so I figure it’s a safe bet.

“It’s Vodka, Cranberry and grapefruit juice. I’m hoping you like those types of juices?” She shrugs in a sort of non-committal way.

The bartender places her drink and my bottle of beer on the bar. We thank him and take our drinks. With my hand on her back, I guide her in the direction of our table, only stopping twice for people to talk to her. I like that they’re interested in her and not me. When we finally get to our table, I set my beer down so I can pull her chair out.

When she sits, her dress poofs out around her and I try not to laugh as she attempts to tuck it under her legs. I help her pull her chair in before sitting down and once I’m seated, I’m holding her hand.

“In case I haven’t told you, you look stunning.”

Her cheeks darken as she bows her head, turning ever so slightly to look at me. “I do believe I remember the words you said when I opened the door.”

I lean in, taking a deep whiff of her perfume. “Care to repeat them?”

Daisy shakes her head, but can’t hold back the grin forming on her lips.

“Happy Birthday, Beautiful,” I say as I kiss her just below her ear. “We can celebrate later.” I’m unable to gauge her reaction because my name is being called from the podium. I have to give a speech tonight and it’s on the top of the list of things I didn’t want to be doing this evening. I leave Daisy seated at our table as I make my way to the front of the room. Once in place, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and control the inevitable twitch that starts in my hand.

“Good evening.” The applause is loud and continues on for a moment. Once it dies down, I look down at the typed words on the cards in front of me and clear my throat. I should’ve read this before I arrived, but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of seeing Daisy. For someone who hasn’t had any media training, they definitely sent the wrong guy. As I read over the speech, I realize I can’t say any of this stuff.

“I want to say thank you for having Daisy and I tonight as your guests. I think this is the first time I’ve been in a room where no one wants to talk about baseball. I know she’s beautiful, but she’s going home with me.”

Everyone laughs and I half expect Daisy to turn away, but she’s focused on me.

“Steve wanted me to let everyone know that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here, and was kind enough to write my speech. Thing is, I didn’t read it beforehand and I’m not sure it works for tonight.

“We’ve all come together for one reason – to raise money for the community. I’m not going to ask you to open your checkbooks and start scribbling your name. Instead, I’m going to ask that you think about what it means to give back, because sometimes it’s not always about the money. When I’m not playing, I’m walking the children’s wing of the hospital or I’m down at the community center helping to repair a swing set or painting over the graffiti’d walls. I could just give them money, but without volunteers to actually do the work, that money is being spent on contractors when it could be spent directly on the children. My mom always used to say ‘Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you’ll feed him for life.’ Even though I know we’re not teaching these kids to make their own meals, I’d like to think that the same applies here.

“So tonight, when you’re asked to open your checkbooks, please consider volunteering your time as well. One is good but without the other, neither one will go nearly as far.”

Daisy is the first one to stand and start clapping. Others quickly follow her, as the applause grows louder. I’ve had standing ovations before, but this one is by far the best.

“That was amazing,” she says as she molds herself into my arms. Holding her has to be the best thing on earth, and especially right now. I have no doubt, that after tonight, other things are going to start ranking up on the best list right along with her.