Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) (9 page)

“I need you to take out the trash.” She indicated the cabinet door that hid the kitchen garbage can and showed him the back door.

“You’re the boss.” Marco gave her a quick nod.

Hunter made a dash for the bathroom. She ducked into the nearest powder room, hoping she could make herself presentable.

* * * *

Damn.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

He shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have kissed her. Not here. Not now. Probably not ever, but the damage had been done.

He grabbed the trash bag and headed outside. He needed the fresh air. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d be making a call to his doctor in four hours. And that was without the aid of modern medication. Even without the little blue pill, Marco knew he was in for a long, uncomfortable state of frustration.

When he could no longer avoid the crowd, he washed up and made his way back to the party. All eyes were on him as he returned. Shit. Had someone caught him and Hunter making out in the kitchen?

Bryce walked up to Marco, and handed him a beer. “So you and Annabelle? Damn.”

Right. They’d all witnessed Annabelle fling herself into his arms. They’d all heard her husband’s display of jealousy. And they’d all seen Hunter step in to keep the peace.

He’d repaid her by sticking his tongue down her throat.

“It was a long time ago. When we were both young and...” Marco wished he had something to talk about besides a seven-year-old affair.

“Still, she’s pretty hot.” Bryce had that locker-room talk down pat.

Sure. Annabelle had that classic all-American beauty. The kind that sold magazines. The kind that young men fantasied about. But Hunter was even hotter. And now that he’d kissed her, he was going to have even more trouble getting her out of his head.

“Annabelle’s married. To our boss,” Marco reminded him. “And he’s not real happy about the connection.”

“He’ll get over it.” Bryce clapped him on the shoulder.

“I hope you’re right. Otherwise, this could be a very long season.” Thirty-nine games left. Not much time to make an impression. But he realized it didn’t matter. He could hit four hundred or a buck forty. He wouldn’t be back in a Goliaths uniform next year. So he might as well make the most of it while he was here.

“I’m still new here, but I got a feeling about these guys…” Bryce lifted his bottle in salute to their teammates. “They’ve got something special. No,
we’ve
got something special here.”

But Marco still felt like an outsider. He sat in a quiet corner, munching on a burger, slaw, and some fresh fruit. He sipped the beer Bryce had given him and watched Hunter interact with his teammates. Every smile, every laugh, every nod of her head was like a sharp line drive to his gut. Jealousy flared like a grease fire.

Intellectually, he knew she was just being friendly. Wasn’t that the purpose of this little get-together? For her and the other owners to meet with the players, make them feel like part of the family. He’d been here less than two weeks, and he’d already picked up on the sense that making this team feel like family was important. At least it was to Hunter.

For her partner, Clayton Barry, not so much. The man had been latched on to his wife’s side, warning off all the other men and sending glaring daggers toward Marco the whole afternoon.

Who would have thought that a couple of weeks spent cavorting with a model at the beginning of his career would end up biting him in the ass all these years later? Even if he got his swing back, there was no way in hell that man would offer Marco a long-term contract. He might as well accept the fact that this would be his only stint with the San Francisco Goliaths.

“Yeah, I think we could go all the way this year.” Bryce seemed oblivious to the fact that Marco had lost interest in conversation. He’d lost interest in everything except Hunter. “It started a little rough, with Cooper’s suspension. And then Henry Collins passing away. But his daughter has done a good job filling his shoes.”

“And his suits.” Marco hadn’t meant to make that statement out loud, but damn. What he wouldn’t give to see Hunter in the flashy outfit Annabelle wore. Or one of the swimsuits from her modeling days. Or nothing at all.

“Well, for a suit, she’s pretty easy to talk to, don’t you think?” Bryce drained his bottle. “I never shared burgers and beers with any of my other owners.”

“Me, either.” He’d certainly never shared a kiss with any of them.

“It’s just one more thing that makes this team special.” Bryce looked at his empty bottle. “You want another one?”

“Nah. I’m good.” He didn’t need more alcohol to make an ass of himself. He’d already nearly started a fight with one owner and then made out with another. Maybe he could knock Marvin Dempsey on his ass, possibly break his hip. Then he’d be three for three.

“I’ll catch you later.” With that, Bryce sauntered off to the cooler to grab another beer.

Marco noticed that most of the burgers had been devoured. He picked up the nearly empty platter and carried it into the kitchen. Man, he must be in a real state if he preferred washing dishes to hanging with his teammates. He rummaged around the spacious kitchen, searching for a container to put the leftovers in. He found some foil and carefully wrapped the two uneaten patties before sticking them in her Sub-Zero refrigerator.

“Thank you.” Hunter came up behind him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. “I do appreciate your help with the grill.”

“Anytime. Maybe when my contract’s up, I can get a job at one of the concession stands at the ballpark.” He said it as a joke. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to that. Ideally, he’d play four or five more seasons. Then hopefully get hired on as a hitting coach on his way to ultimately becoming a manager.

“That would be making good use of that college degree of yours.” She had done her homework. Of course she had. She’d taken the time to discover that he was one of about three percent of major leaguers who actually finished college.

“Yes. I went back to school so I’d be qualified to flip burgers someday.”

“Well, they were pretty tasty.” She walked over to the sink and started filling the sink with hot water. “I’ll see what I can do about the concessions job.”

“Wouldn’t you have to run it by your partners first?” Meaning, the man who had been giving him the stink eye all afternoon.

She made a noise that gave him the impression she wasn’t on the best of terms with the younger of her two partners.

“I thought this was one big happy family.” Marco needed to know just how tight the ownership group was. “At least, that’s what they tell me.”

“That’s the way my dad ran things.” She had a wistful tone in her voice. “I know it probably seems a little strange to consider a billion dollar enterprise as a family business.”

He lowered his voice, even though no one was there to overhear. “Does that make me the black sheep?”

“No. Just one who’s trying to find his way.” She patted him on the shoulder. Not in any way meant to be sexual, yet it sent a jolt straight to his groin. Yeah, he wanted to find his way, all right. Straight to her bed.

“I’ll finish these dishes.” Marco needed to stand at the sink for a while. With his back to Hunter so she wouldn’t notice the way she affected him. “If there’s any more out there, just bring them in.”

“You think you can just make yourself at home in my kitchen?” She sounded slightly pissed off.

“I must be the only man in America who gets scolded for wanting to help in the kitchen.” He plunged his hands into the soapy water. What he really wanted to do was plunge himself deep into Hunter.

“Marco, you don’t have to work so hard to impress me.” She gathered up a few stray dishes, stacking them on the counter before leaving him alone with his thoughts and his dishpan hands. Not to mention a hard-on that just wouldn’t quit.

Chapter 6

Annabelle swept into Hunter’s office the next morning, gorgeous as always. Now that Hunter knew she was once Marco’s lover, her envy cut a bit deeper.

“I hope I’m not interrupting too much.” Annabelle removed her oversized sunglasses and made herself comfortable in the guest chair. “But I wanted to apologize for my husband’s behavior yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” At least not to Hunter. If anything, the man should have apologized to his wife for acting like an ass.

“Still, I wanted to make the effort.” Annabelle leaned forward. “I guess I should have paid closer attention to the team. And its players. I was so surprised to see Marco again after all these years.”

“Were you two serious?” Not that she really wanted to know the answer.

“Oh no, not serious. We were together maybe a couple of weeks.” She sighed. It must have been a good couple of weeks. “We had fun, that’s for sure. Marco’s a great guy. A really great guy. But you know, he’d just been called up for the first time and neither of us were looking for anything serious. Even if we were, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not with my career. His career and, well…his background.”

Hunter tensed, wondering if there was a skeleton in his closet she needed to know about. As his employer, of course.

“As wonderful as he was…is…” Annabelle closed her eyes, leaning back into the chair. “My father wasn’t like yours. He’s… Well, he would have never allowed me to bring home a man like Marco Santiago.”

She looked up at Hunter, then broke the eye contact. “At the time, it was more important to go along with my father than, well you know?”

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know. Why would your father have anything to do with your relationship with Marco?” And then she realized the other woman’s problem.

“My father would have flipped if I brought home a Mexican guy. The illegitimate son of a maid.” She sounded horrified, but Hunter wasn’t sure if it was at Marco’s heritage or her father’s prejudice. “As far as he was concerned, someone like Marco was only good for one thing. Cheap labor.”

Cheap? She would have to come up with several million more than he was making this year if she wanted to keep him.

“He had his opinions about immigration. Let them come here to tend crops, mow lawns, make beds.” Annabelle rolled her eyes, as if she knew his attitude was wrong, but she couldn’t do anything about it. “You know, the jobs real Americans wouldn’t want.”

“Marco’s a real American. Just like us.” Anger burned at the assumption that certain jobs were only for certain kinds of people. That one’s race, or gender, would preclude someone from being able to perform.

“I know that. You know that.” Annabelle shrugged, as if ignorance was no big deal. “But I knew my modeling career would be short lived, so I couldn’t afford to be cut off. You know, with nothing but my face, and my body to support me.”

“Your father would have cut you off if you’d gotten serious with Marco?”

“He would have cut me off if he’d even found out I was dating Marco.” She leaned closer, as if she was about to reveal a huge secret. “I wasn’t twenty-one yet, so I had that as an excuse for not going to clubs and places where we’d be photographed.”

“So what did you do together?” She shouldn’t have asked.

“I’d watch his games. Then we’d hang out. Order room service.” Annabelle sighed deeply.

Hunter really shouldn’t have asked.

“But mostly we’d talk. He was the first guy who actually noticed I had a brain. And interests of my own.” She fidgeted with her sunglasses, twirling them around by one earpiece. “You know, he’s really smart, too. He’d been working on finishing his degree even while playing in the minors. Did you know that?”

“Yes. I did.”

“He wanted to be sure he had something to fall back on. Wanted to make sure he could take care of his mother.”

Was there something wrong with his mother?
 
Maybe that was something else adding to his distraction.

“She always took care of him, sometimes working two jobs to make ends meet. The biggest reason he wanted to make the big leagues was so that she’d never have to worry about money again.” She sighed. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“Yes. That is sweet.” Hunter’s heart did a crazy little lurch, both at the thought of Marco as a mama’s boy and the reminder of her own loss.

“I forget sometimes that not everyone grows up like we did.” Annabelle placed her sunglasses on the top of her head, like a headband.