Luke shrugged, already halfway through his current slice of pizza. “He didn’t hit it,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”
“Ninety-five,” Noah said. “The pitch was clocked at ninety-five.”
Absently, Luke took a sip of iced tea. He’d been in his zone that day. He’d been in his zone all that season. “Which means if Crawford would have gotten a hold of it, I would have been screwed.” He set the drink down. “He would have flown it clear to my hometown in Texas. The man cracks a mean bat.” And Luke would face him again and soon. His gut twisted a little on that thought, a hint of self-doubt sliding into play. He didn’t usually let self-doubt surface—it was dangerous and destructive. So was the big ego that a lot of guys developed to hide from that doubt. There was a happy medium between ego and confidence and that was where Luke normally did well. It was part of his success.
“We’ll do our job, Luke, and take care of your security, so you can take care of Crawford,” Josh offered. “We’ll inspect your setup here and make it nice and tight.”
“I should have something from the lab on the letters by early in the week,” Noah said. “Maybe we can snag this perp before preseason is over. Give you that peace of mind before you face Crawford again.”
Josh chimed in again. “Rest assured, we’re a pretty good team ourselves. We’ll get the job done.”
The twist in Luke’s gut tightened, and he forced himself to respond nonchalantly, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “To getting the job done, on and off the field.”
He could feel Katie’s eyes on him as he clinked glasses with Noah and Josh. Luke placed another slice of pizza on his plate and stood up. He’d shown everyone to their rooms earlier. They knew where to go when they were ready and he wasn’t in the mood to play host. It’s not as if he’d invited them here. This was all forced on him.
“Unless you boys need tucking in, I’m hitting the sack. It’s been a long day.” He exchanged a few more words with the two guys, but not with Katie, who sat quietly, watching him, far too observant. She knew something was wrong with him. He sensed it. How the woman read him so easily he didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, either.
He took the stairs quickly, found his door and was about to enter when he heard, “Luke!”
Turning, he found Katie hobbling after him with her stiff leg slowing her down. Part of him wanted distance from her right now. Another part wanted to hold her close. What he didn’t want was to wait for her to climb those stairs. Standing still seemed to twist the knots in his stomach harder. If not for the damn pizza in his hand, he would have gone after her and carried her the rest of the way to the top.
Finally, though, she was in front of him, shoving that dark brown hair from her eyes. He remembered having it on his cheek, on his chest.
She tilted her head. “What’s going on, Luke? Did Noah or Josh say something wrong? I know Crawford might be a sore spot.”
“No,” he said. “Nothing at all. I don’t give a rat’s ass about Crawford.”
She frowned. “Well,” she said. “I know Noah and Josh were talking a lot of trash to each other, but—”
“I know they’re good at their jobs,” he said. “I can tell.”
“Is that what this is about? The job thing again?”
“No,” he answered. He inhaled a heavy breath, considered avoiding a direct response, but he’d learned enough about Katie in the short time he’d known her to realize that wouldn’t fly. “Look. I’m feeling claustrophobic by the extra security.”
“They’ll only be here a couple of days. We just need to do everything possible to end this mess before your season starts. They can help me do that.”
He motioned to the pizza. “Let me put this down.” He inclined his head toward his room and didn’t give her time to object.
Luke walked into the room, glancing around, seeing it as she might. The truth was, he was a simple guy, without any time or desire to go furniture shopping. The room matched the guest suite. A sleigh bed, navy-blue comforter, same dressers and nightstands. But there were no flowers, no fuss. Luke set his plate on the nightstand, the drink on a coaster.
Katie followed him inside and shut the door, and he watched as she turned toward the picture that consumed the entire wall to his left. His favorite painting of Nolan Ryan, throwing a fastball. “The best pitcher that ever lived,” he said.
She cut him a sideways glance. “I thought you were.”
Luke scoffed, sitting down on the bed, his gaze skimming her slender figure, a memory of holding her, of being inside her washing over him. Unbidden, despite his less than stellar mood, his cock twitched. He forced aside the more primal tendencies Katie drew from him and refocused on the picture.
“You’re amazing,” she said. “To be that good and that grounded.” She crossed to the bed and sat down facing him, scooted far enough back on the mattress to stretch out her leg, as if she were completely comfortable in his room, on his bed. And remarkably, he was, too. “There aren’t many people who that can be said about.” Katie rolled her eyes. “Lord only knows I’ve been around my share of arrogance. Success breeds it like rabbits.”
“Sometimes fear of failure breeds arrogance,” he added, repeating what he’d thought to himself at the table. “Once you allow self-doubt, you allow failure.”
Katie studied him, those brown eyes brimming with speculation. “What’s on your mind, Luke?”
“You’ve read my press.”
“A lot of it,” she agreed. “Yes.”
“So you know there’s speculation about my game,” he said. “About all the crap I went through this past year affecting my pitching.”
She gave a slow incline of her head. “I did, but honestly I didn’t give it that much thought. Not after you seemed so confident about your ‘hot zone,’ as you called it.” She sat up a bit, seeming intent on getting her point across. “If you’re worried about more press speculation concerning this stalker, I promise you I am doing everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t leak. I trust Noah and Josh, but they will be gone once you’re on the road. We’ll keep this all low-key, between you and me.”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I know I swore none of this was getting to me, and I believed it. But tonight, your staff is here, staying in my home, about to take it over. It’s not just you anymore, a woman I have a personal interest in. It made me realize this stalker situation has taken over my life. That means it can take over my game.”
Katie slid up close to him and climbed on his lap.
“Your knee,” he objected.
“Is fine,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck. “And so are you. I’ll make sure of it.”
Luke froze, and the absolute panic forming inside him over his game slid away. He was hot and hard, but his heart was soft, melting like butter. Katie made him feel as if she was talking to the man, not the baseball player. He’d never had a woman reach him on that level.
Luke rolled her on her back and slid on top of her. And with her breathless pleas and wet heat surrounding him, for now, at least, everything was better.
9
NEAR TWO O’CLOCK the next day, Luke walked to the passenger side door of his truck in front of the coach’s house to help Katie get out. “I can do it, Luke,” she said, the minute he opened the door.
“Too bad,” he said, stepping closer.
Stubbornly, she set her jaw and tried to reach the pavement on her own.
“Woman!” Luke reprimanded. Grabbing her before she hurt herself, he pulled her soft curves against his hard body. Oh, yeah. He liked those soft curves and he held her there a moment; the thin, red sundress she wore, though perfectly discreet, offered only a thin barrier. Awareness spiked between them and he lowered his voice to a seductive purr. “Help isn’t so bad, now, is it?”
“This isn’t help,” she accused softly, her hands gently pressing into his shoulders before he reluctantly settled her on her feet. Unable to resist while the
door still blocked them from view, he let his hand caress a path over her backside.
She reached behind her and covered his hand. “You just wanted an opportunity to do this.”
“No,” he said truthfully, smiling as he added, “but it’s a damn nice bonus to being a gentleman.”
“Hey!” a male voice exclaimed. “Stop hiding out behind that truck door with your new woman and get your ass in here!” Luke laughed as he glanced at the porch to find Rick standing there, a beer in hand, as he added, “The game’s about to start.”
“What game?” Katie asked, as Luke shut the truck door.
“Horseshoes,” Luke said. “It’s a preseason tradition. We haven’t lost an opening day game in ten years, and every one of those years, Coach hosted a barbecue where horseshoes were played. Baseball players are a suspicious bunch. Whatever works, we repeat it.” He took her hand. “Ready to meet the team?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”
Luke guided her forward, their fingers entwined. His first time to have a woman here, a woman he wanted by his side, and it had to be under crappy circumstances. That mockery of a story about how they met would be told over and over, and that facade would remind him that Katie had come to be by his side to catch a stalker—his stalker. And after lying awake talking to her for hours the night before, he knew her gut feeling was the same as his. They both believed the stalker was someone close to him, trying to put him off his game, or maybe end his career. That meant whoever was behind this might well be right here, amongst his friends.
They reached the porch and Katie squeezed his hand. He glanced over at her.
“Don’t think about it,” she whispered, reading him with such amazing accuracy that Luke grabbed her and kissed her.
“Save some of that luck for the pitcher’s mound, will you?” Rick teased.
Luke grimaced. “You sure your name isn’t Tom?”
Rick and Katie both gave him a baffled look.
“As in, Peeping Tom,” Luke added.
“Oh, that was bad,” Katie said. “Really bad.”
At the same time, Rick grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve never minded a good show.”
Katie rolled her eyes as Rick entered the house and they followed. “I can tell this is going to be a guy joke kind of day.”
“You have no idea,” Luke said. “The fun has only just begun.” He winked, his eyes locking with hers, a secret message there for her and her alone that had nothing to do with the barbecue and everything to do with how much he wanted her. “That’s a promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered.
Luke smiled, and then he realized, suddenly, how much he wanted today to be about him and Katie, the real them, not about the lies they’d created to catch a stalker.
Luke turned her to face him. “When we go out there and tell our story,” he said, “don’t convince yourself it’s all a game again. This isn’t a game.”
“No,” she said, pressing her hand to his chest. “But the reason behind our little charade isn’t, either, Luke. I want you to be safe.”
“I believe you,” he said. “And that might be why you’re here—”
“It is why I’m here, Luke. I’m here to protect you.”
“No. Today, you’re here because I want you here. Whatever else you might be, Katie…you’re the woman I want here by my side, as my date. I’d choose to have you here if all the other reasons didn’t exist.”
Confusion touched her expression. Luke sensed her start to withdraw as she said, “You can’t know that.”
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t push me away.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” he insisted. “And I won’t let you.” He kissed her. “That’s a promise, as sure as me making you dessert later. And you can bet I’m going to be thinking about it all afternoon.” He ran his hand down her hair. He had no idea why Katie affected him like she did, but it felt good. And unlike Katie, he wasn’t going to let the past slow him down, nor was he going to allow it to ruin what had started to grow between them. “Let’s eat so we can get on to that dessert, sooner than later.”
She rewarded him with a smile, the wall he’d felt her building sliding back down. “Right. Let’s eat.”
Hand in hand, they made a discreet path down the hall, cautious not to be seen until they reached the kitchen. When they reached the glass door to the backyard, it swept open as the coach greeted them, guiding them into the gathering of friends and teammates. But that sexy promise they’d shared still lingered, reinforced with each passing glance they shared.
KATIE LOUNGED in a patio chair in the coach’s backyard under a shaded awning. With the party well underway, she sat with several other women, experiencing what she considered to be a little piece of hell. Team parties and picnics, she knew from her days with Joey, were always packed with big-breasted women and big-egoed men. One of those big-breasted women was the coach’s blonde bombshell of a wife, ten years his junior, Heather Bradshaw, who was down-to-earth and friendly, and unfortunately, ever attentive to Katie. That meant every time Katie had an “I-want-to-grind-my-teeth-clear-to-dust” moment, she was forced to smile her way past it. She did so by thinking about her and Luke and their nights spent together.
Thankfully the questions about her dancing and tours, how she’d met Luke and how she’d injured her knee were somewhat behind her. She’d even managed to throw in a remark about Luke pressuring her to go to Texas for the away series. Katie smiled as Luke won yet another game of horseshoes and Rick cursed him up and down—good-naturedly, of course. The two were clearly close friends. And Luke winning horseshoes, she hoped, was a tiny reminder he was still in control. This stalker of his was not.
Rick’s date for the day, Libby Reynolds, grimaced. “Dating Luke gave me a complex. He is always so darn perfect.”
Katie whipped around, her eyebrows dipping. Her professional instincts were all but vibrating. “You dated Luke? But now you’re seeing his best friend?”
Libby laughed and waved off the concern. “Luke doesn’t care, believe me. I filled in when he needed a date for a few functions here and there. I certainly never made it past his front door, let alone one of these backyard functions by his side. Nobody has, before you.”
So Katie had been told by about everyone who’d met her today, and then they’d drilled her and Luke about their relationship. She felt as if she should have had a flyer printed to hand out, explaining their history. It would have been easier than repeating it fifty times.
“How long have you been seeing Rick?” Katie asked.
“Three months.” She eyed Rick, who had been plastered by Luke’s side pretty much all afternoon. The two were always together, a kind of brother bond between them. “He’s a real teddy bear. Easy to get close to and real lovable.” She snorted. “Unlike Luke.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
Heather answered. “Luke likes his privacy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Katie said, finding a bit of defensiveness rise in her.
“Oh, my husband agrees wholeheartedly,” Heather chimed in, sipping one of the daiquiris Katie had passed on to keep a clear head.
Libby tugged at her little white tee and adjusted the bow positioned over her cleavage. “You wouldn’t know that from all the headlines he created last year,” Libby said, her tone hinting at a bit of disdain that Katie couldn’t quite dismiss. This chick had dated Luke, and now she was dating Rick. That could mean she was a groupie who’d take any player she could get, or she was trying to stay close to Luke through Rick.
“Please,” Heather said, setting her drink down. “That low-life little bitch he was dating was behind all his press. I was certain Luke would never date again after that woman.” Her gaze shifted to Katie as she added, “Now, not only is he dating, but he can’t keep his eyes off you, Katie. Do tell us your secret to seducing the best catch on the planet.”
> Katie quirked a brow. Shouldn’t she think her husband, not Luke, was the catch? Interesting. Probably nothing, but interesting anyway. Katie laughed. “Love potion number nine,” she joked.
“Hmm,” Heather said, and winked. “Does it make him frisky? If so, I might have to borrow some for Coach.”
Katie laughed. “You just called your own husband Coach.”
Heather’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “He likes it. He has a thing for power, if you know what I mean.”
Okay, then. Heather might not think her husband was a catch, but they had a good sex life. Or an interesting one, it seemed.
Katie was contemplating a response when suddenly Luke’s hands settled on her shoulders. A shiver raced down her spine. She looked up at him and found warmth spreading through her body reflected in his tender eyes. “Hey,” she said softly, head spinning with the impact of her response to such a small gesture.
He squatted next to her, sliding his hand to her knee. “Hey, yourself. How’s it going?” His voice was low, intimate, for her ears only.
“Good,” she replied, because nothing else seemed to form on her lips. They stared at each other, millions of emotions welling inside her. She hadn’t bargained for this connection with Luke, nor the fact that no amount of logic was allowing her to dismiss it.
“Uh-oh,” Heather said. “Carl and Rick are going at each other again.”
“Carl Malone,” Luke clarified to Katie. “Rookie pitcher brought up from the farm team. Total pain in the ass.”
“It would help if you and Rick would stop calling him ‘Thumbs,’” Heather chided.
Katie’s jaw dropped. “No, you don’t. Luke. That’s horrible.”
“If you knew the trash he talked, you wouldn’t say that,” Luke assured her. “Everything is someone else’s fault. He ignores Conn’s calls.” Conn being Mike Connelly, the short, stocky catcher from Long Island whom Katie had noticed talked a lot of New York-style trash that generally amused his teammates.