Too Hot to Handle: A Boys of Summer Novel (4 page)

The frosty tone was back. Jake’s grin was slow and deliberate. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” Before she could react, he gestured to the phone. “Was that a reporter?”

“Yes. Chris Smith. He’s covering spring training for the Sonics this year. I want to make sure that the work we’re doing is getting the right level of attention. Season ticket sales are down after that barroom brawl last month. I am hoping that our new image and work ethic will start to change public opinion about the team.”

“I understand what you’re trying to do,” Jake said shrewdly. “But I think it might be smart to hold off on the media for a bit.”

“What do you mean?” She tucked back a lock of hair that had fallen from behind her ear and then tapped the clipboard, completely unaware of how enticing she looked. “I plan to call all of the local journalists. It’s important to form good relationships with them so they are open to receiving my press kits and story ideas. I want them to see for themselves…”

“Do you mind if I give you a little advice?” When she stared, he continued in the same lazy way. “Back off a little. You were on the right track with the barber, but shutting down the beer at the tiki bar isn’t what I call honey. This is a talented group of guys, and after a game, they need to let off steam.”

Her blue eyes blazed and she defiantly got to her feet. “I’m sorry if this group of frat boys doesn’t like the new rules. We’re trying to create a picture of a professional team that’s here to work.”

Impossibly, she looked even hotter all outraged. Her cheeks blazed pink and she bit her lip, unconsciously reddening it. All he could picture was taking that mouth with his own, peeling off that conservative power suit, and making her come with the same intensity she flashed at him now. Fascinated, he had to shake off his thoughts to continue.

“There’s more than one way to gain good press,” he said. “Having a beer with a fan or signing an autograph can foster positive attention as well. But I’m not here to argue your tactics. I’m just concerned you’ll have a mutiny on your hands.”

“What we are doing here is a lot more important than the players having a good time,” she said firmly, although she retook her seat. “If they can’t get with the program, then maybe they’ve chosen the wrong team. But either way, it’s time for them to grow up.”

Jake rose to leave, but when the lock of hair slipped forward once more, he couldn’t resist. Slowly, he tucked it back for her behind her glasses, pleased to see her flush at the contact. Picking up his jersey, he started for the door and then paused, looking over his shoulder. “This team is known for their practical jokes, and you’ve got them pretty worked up. Just because you’re a woman, even a gorgeous one, it won’t make a difference.”

He was pleased to see the flush of color that stained her cheeks deepen further when he complimented her. He continued in the same lazy tone as he walked out the door. “Consider yourself warned.”

“So you really think the Sonics have turned over a new leaf?” Chris Smith gazed out over the field, Nikki Case at his side.

“Yes, I do.” Nikki indicated the batting cages. “I know they didn’t always have the best reputation, but that’s about to change. Take spring training, for instance. We’ve got some great new players coming up, and they are working really hard to get a spot on the roster. Our veterans have been coming in early, getting extra practice, and our younger players are following suit. In addition to the fundamentals, the team is incorporating additional work like base running in order to improve performance.”

“We’ll see,” the reporter said noncommitt
ally. “My feeling is the Sonics are a second-rate team. They were lucky to make it as far as the World Series last year, and if Atlanta didn’t have so many injuries, we would’ve seen a different result. As it is, it took New York only four games to defeat them. I think they found out their bullying tactics don’t work at the big show.”

“That was last year,” Nikki said determinedly. “They have learned they can go the distance. While it’s true that some of the other teams in their division had health issues, they stepped up when it was important. You can’t say that Chase didn’t make an excellent effort. Or that Ryan didn’t get the hits when we needed them. And Jake Baldwin stole more bases than any other player in the league, and made a spectacular catch in the Series.”

The reporter grinned. “Sounds like this team’s got itself a cheerleader. But I’m curious to see them myself. I’ve always thought they had the talent to make it big, but they had to get past that reputation of being the Garden State Goons. If they really cleaned up their act, got some discipline, they could be unstoppable.”

“You’ll see,” Nikki said with no small degree of satisfaction. “We are taking a page out of Steinbrenner’s book. The Sonics have become model citizens…”

Eager to show off their well-groomed appearance, she led the reporter toward the dugout. But her voice trailed off as Ryan appeared and walked onto the field.

Beneath his helmet, his head was covered with a three-inch-long royal-blue clown’s wig.

The crowd of noisy fans applauded as Jake followed with the identical hairpiece, then Brian and Derek. One by one the players took their positions, all of them adorned with curly, blazing-blue hair.

The only exception was Chase. As he strode onto the pitching mound, he doffed his cap in a gesture of appreciation to his fans. The second he took off the Sonics hat, a bush of fire-engine-red hair sprang out and the crowd got to their feet and roared their approval, whistling and bellowing with laughter.

Chris chuckled deeply. “Model citizens? They look like they’re decked out for the circus.” He snapped pictures furiously while Nikki gaped in stunned surprise. “I have to thank you for contacting me,” he said, still grinning. “This will make the cover of the Sunday sports page.”

John strode up to meet Nikki. “What the hell—” He looked askance at the motley-topped team. “Don’t suppose there’s any possibility you won’t print this?”

“Not a chance,” Chris said with a grin. “I can’t wait to interview the team and get their comments. The Sonics were always known for practical jokes. I guess some things never change.”

The reporter strode off and John turned to Nikki, accusation in his eyes. “This is your fault,” he said stiffly. “Wait till the Front Office hears about this one.”

Her heart sank as he walked away, shaking his head. Nikki wondered if he wasn’t right.

She waited until the first inning was over, and then she accosted Jake. “What’s going on?” Her foot tapped in rhythm to the pen on her clipboard.

“What are you talking about?” Jake asked, his brows arched innocently even as his head blazed blue. He took in her fitted slate-gray suit, immaculate white shirt, and heels. Frank appreciation gleamed in his eyes even as he frowned. “Don’t you ever get hot in those clothes?”

His gaze met hers and she knew exactly what he was thinking. He would be more than happy to help her out of them, and more than happy to make her even hotter. Fortunately, he was smart enough not to voice those thoughts.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean.” Nikki ignored the little shiver that his glance generated and her eyes fastened on his head. “The wigs,” she demanded.

Jake shrugged. “You said no long hair. You didn’t say anything about color.”

Nikki’s lips parted even farther when she realized that the team had taken her edict as an opportunity to poke fun at her rules. Her eyes met the shortstop’s and she saw the merriment there, along with something else, something that made her feel flustered and disconcerted. Why did he continue to affect her this way? And how could he still look sexy sporting a bright blue clown wig? Squaring her shoulders, she indicated the reporter.

“Great. I wanted to start off this season with some stories about the team’s new image. This will be all over the papers.” She shot him a suspicious look. “Did you put them up to this?”

“Last thing this team needs is for me to put them up to anything.” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t take it too seriously. Sure the rags will have a field day, but so what? After all, there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

There was something so appealing about his little-boy smile that Nikki shook her head like a parent with a bunch of unruly children.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her glance fell upon his royal-blue locks, and for a moment, in spite of herself, she had to bite back laughter. They really did look funny, this team of grown men with their clown wigs playing a serious game of baseball. If they’d wanted to get a message across to her, they succeeded.

In flaming blue spades.

“Where are you going?” He removed his hand to adjust his wig, his smart-ass grin deepening.

“To do damage control,” she admitted, and then turned back to him. Belatedly she remembered that he had tried to warn her about contacting the media. A wry smile curved her lips as her gaze met his, and something warmed within her as she realized he’d tried to help her. “At least you didn’t say ‘I told you so.’ ”

“Not my style.” Jake shrugged, but then his eyes narrowed. “By the way, you might want to make sure the press stays away from the new guy, Shaun Anderson. He’s from Southern California and is a little…out there.” His gaze switched to the dugout, where Chris was approaching the rookie.

This time Nikki didn’t question his advice but walked swiftly to the bench, where the new player was talking animatedly to the reporter. She arrived just in time to hear Shaun explaining how he approached the game.

“I just sort of go with the flow,” he was saying in a mystical voice. His light brown eyes seemed to be looking into another world. “I’ve got to get into the Zen; I just let the force guide me. That’s how I actually see the ball, using my third eye. It’s like I am floating, man, but in another galaxy.”

Nikki groaned, aware that the other Sonics were smirking as the rookie spoke in a singsong voice. “I’ll take over from here,” she said to the reporter.

Chris shrugged. “I got what I needed.” He gave her an appreciative grin. “Like I said, thanks for calling me. This will make great press.”

Nikki’s heart sank as he sauntered away, whistling. Shaun gave her a beatific smile, and she realized this was not something she could coach him out of or change. The best she could do was limit his exposure to the media, no easy task.

Especially once the papers realized they had a live one.

When she returned to her hotel room, Nikki was exhausted. Taking on the Jersey Sonics single-handedly took a lot of energy and determination. They played through the entire game wearing the blue wigs in spite of the cameras and reporters, creating a visual feast for the media.

After the game, they collectively met up at the tiki bar, where the players produced their own beverages. The manager shrugged helplessly as Ryan placed a cooler on top of the table and the players helped themselves to an assortment of craft beers. When Nikki glared, Brian lifted a bottle in her direction, as if toasting her.

It had been a rough day. She knew it would take time for the team to get on board, but she hadn’t envisioned that they would fight back in this manner. And she was tired. All she wanted was a shower, a good meal, and a glass of wine, and not necessarily in that order.

Her room was a standard-issue hotel suite, with a tiny kitchen and the requisite desk, chair, queen-size bed, and matching nightstands. Dentist-office art hung on the walls, and the lighting was mediocre at best. A sea-foam quilt graced the bed, and identical blackout drapes closed off the view. Opening the curtains, she gazed at the ocean outside her window as she poured herself a plastic cup of the cheap chardonnay that she’d purchased at the front desk.

The turquoise water was gorgeous, as was the powdery white beach. For once she felt very alone, and wished she were the kind of girl who could toss everything aside to play, to find some handsome guy and make an amazing memory.

Her sister Natalie would do exactly that without hesitation. Nat had always told her that she was way too serious, and even their parents seemed to agree. They’d fought a lot as children, especially since they had to share the same room, but as adults they’d wound up friends.

Turning away from the tempting view, she sipped her wine and absently clicked on the television as she headed for the shower.

The warm water felt good in the air-conditioned room. Nikki let the tension fall away and she closed her eyes beneath the gentle spray. She’d brought her own body wash with her and as she squirted the gel into her palms, she luxuriated in the lavender scent. Slowly, she lathered her breasts, surprised to realize she was beginning to become aroused.

Jake.
The name popped out of nowhere, but she found she couldn’t get him out of her head. Those blue eyes, that sexy smile, even his cocky walk turned her on. Desperately, she tried to erase his image with another: Russell Crowe. Johnny Depp. Hugh Jackman. Nothing worked. As she worked the soap over her belly, it was almost as if he were touching her.

Caressing her.

Making her want him with a desperation she was beginning to actually experience. Her hand moved lower.

The glass door was fogged, and not just from the hot water. When she saw the steam and realized what she was doing, Nikki flipped the shower knob to cold. Within seconds, she had goose bumps as her blood cooled along with the water. But it didn’t help.

Even as she got out of the tub, she could feel the craving inside her body. She wanted a man, and the man she wanted was Jake.

Tugging on her robe, she heard the drone of the news as she reentered the room. The perfectly polished reporter chatted about the weather, spring training, the arrival of the Yankees, and the Blue Jays’ new manager.

Then he got to the Sonics.

Nikki cringed as she saw the players displayed on television in their brilliant headgear. Thankfully, when asked about the prank, Jake simply shrugged.

“Just having some fun with the game,” he insisted, grinning at the camera. “Don’t want to take things too seriously this early in the season.”

The other players said pretty much the same, and Nikki breathed a sigh of relief. At least they hadn’t made public the reason for the joke.

But then the reporter got to Shaun.

“And if you think baseball is nothing but muscle, meet the new hitter for New Jersey who has more of a spiritual take on the game.”

Chris put a microphone in front of the rookie and Shaun babbled on about his beliefs. The amusement was evident on the newsman’s face as he delivered the story, and Nikki could just see tomorrow’s headlines. Turning off the set, she sank down on the bed dejectedly in her terry-cloth robe.

Between the wigs, the revolt at the tiki bar, and Shaun, she had set herself back weeks. The Northeast papers would have a field day with this, for the Sonics’ antics would be much more entertaining than the usual spring training news.

Maybe John was right; maybe it was her fault. Maybe she had been too hard on them. Jake had warned her, and now she knew what he meant. She’d have to change her tactics, make the players want to go along with the program the way she had with the haircuts. But how? She’d pulled the barber idea out of her butt. How could she continue to make them want to follow her rules?

A knock startled her out of her thoughts and she glanced up in confusion. She hadn’t ordered takeout yet, had she? There were half a dozen menus in the desk drawer, and she had been mentally deciding between King Wong’s greasy Chinese and Tony’s pizza. Tugging the belt tightly on her robe, she yanked open the door.

Jake Baldwin stood there, a picnic basket in one hand, a rose bouquet in the other.