Chapter Eleven
Alex tossed his keys onto the dining room table of his apartment. They skidded up against a stack of mail that had grown about a foot since he’d left for the road trip.
It’d been a good trip; he’d racked up six home runs and had managed to get on base nearly every at-bat.
But he’d been preoccupied, absentminded. He’d left his watch in the hotel room after the All Star game. He’d never done that before. And he’d forgotten his mother’s birthday. He’d only done that once before and after the repercussions, he’d been determined it would never happen again.
And it was all because he’d been thinking about Jackie.
She’d gotten to him in a way that he couldn’t deny, and all his naysaying only made it more impossible to put her out of his mind. He’d called the Center a couple of times from the road, but hadn’t left messages when her machine picked up.
Now that he was back home, the tug to get back to her started again in earnest. He wanted to see her. He’d palmed his cell more than once wanting to call again, but thought better of it every time.
He checked his emails and canceled hooking up with a lovely young widow whom Scotty had introduced him to after the previous homestand. Though his body strained for the release of a good night’s pleasure, casual sex didn’t hold the appeal that it once had. The women he’d shared hot nights with in the past always claimed they were fine with the no-strings-attached, purely sexual encounters, but he wasn’t sure he was, not anymore. The night with Trish in Santa Cruz had told him more than he wanted to know. And it both puzzled and irritated him that the brief time he’d spent with Jackie could make him want to walk into territory he’d sworn to avoid.
Wiped out, he moved to the living room and dropped to the couch, slouching against the cushions. The silence was soothing.
He closed his eyes.
And immediately an image of Jackie—fit and lithe and luscious—filled his mind.
He might have canceled a meet-up with Scotty’s friend, but he wouldn’t have passed up a night with Jackie. And he wouldn’t have to. She’d been in his dreams, waking and sleeping, for days. He guessed that tonight would be no different.
He pictured her as he’d first seen her, struggling with the Zodiac. Then he pictured her fearlessly going over a cliff, more concerned about a whale than about her own safety. And then he imagined her as he’d not yet seen her, peeling off her clothes and smiling, tempting him, accepting him. Wanting him.
He pressed his head back and groaned.
This was where fatigue and thoughts of Jackie always led, to him getting hard, with no means of relief beyond his own hand. And he was tired of it. Tired of acting like some callow teenager. Just because he hadn’t had sex for a few weeks didn’t mean thoughts of Jackie should set him off.
But hell, she appealed on so many levels. He dragged a hand over his face, hoping to clear his mind. But why couldn’t he imagine what might happen one day? He’d trained himself to imagine hitting pitches, working through every possible pitch and his responses step by step. Why would his approach be any different with a woman he wanted?
And why was he arguing with himself?
He jumped up and stepped back into the kitchen. He grabbed an apple from the refrigerator, then returned to the mail, determined to shake his mind free of naked veterinarians. He flipped through the stack, tossing most of the envelopes aside to be recycled.
Near the bottom of the pile he came to a blue-edged envelope with the bright logo of The California Marine Mammal Center.
He’d nearly thrown it away before he’d left.
He fingered the envelope, then grabbed his letter opener and sliced it open. An Invitation to an Evening with Dr. Brandon spread across the page in finely engraved script. He laid the invitation on the table and tilted back in his chair.
He hadn’t seen Jackie since the day of the surf contest, but he could still feel her touch on his skin. He’d replayed that day in his mind a hundred times and it never came out with a better ending, though he’d long since realized her comment about his girlfriends meant she’d thought Sabrina had come down with him and Trish. He’d never been one for threesomes, but she didn’t know that. That it mattered to her had surprised him. He’d also been surprised to discover her irritation satisfied something in him. That seemed too... juvenile, but it was true.
He clicked on his phone and checked his schedule.
Before he knew it, he’d tapped out an RSVP and pressed Send.
He’d take Sabrina and introduce her to Jackie, put out that fire. Maybe they’d like each other. And Sabrina loved anything to do with animals.
It was a good plan.
He imagined Jackie nodding, maybe smiling, when she discovered he wasn’t interested in a three-way. And then he imagined that she might tilt her head back, press her hands to her hips and ask what he was interested in. And with that image, he was instantly hard again.
Giving in to the inevitable, he tossed what was left of his apple in the trash and headed toward his bedroom. He was fooling himself if he thought he’d distracted his body; it was primed and ready to go off. And he intended to put out that fire as well. He stripped as he walked, dropping clothing as he aimed for the shower.
He’d think better if his body wasn’t screaming at him, wasn’t demanding sex at every moment. He’d practice some of his finely honed visualization under the pounding showerheads. Yeah, that too was a good plan.