“I hate walking around on planes.”
“You’re kidding.”
Her fear might seem silly to some, but it was quite real to her. “No. I’m not kidding. I hate flying.”
His gaze swept her body—a lingering, sizzling inspection—before he brought his eyes back to hers. “I missed you last night.”
He had? “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“We agreed, no personal stuff on the road. It’s too dangerous.”
The announcement came over the intercom again. “Come on. We have to board.”
Amanda reached out and grabbed his arm, stalling him. “We did agree, right, Brad?”
Kurt charged toward them, waving for them to get going. “Damn, people,” he spouted. “Get a move on.”
“Coming,” Amanda said, turning away from Brad and starting forward. He fell into step beside her. Already she was making a spectacle of herself with Brad. Drawing attention where she didn’t need it.
She was so in trouble.
BRAD MANAGED TO RESIST Amanda for three hours and fifty-five minutes. That’s how long it had been since he’d sworn off her on the plane. Now, sitting in the hotel bar, tables pushed together to accommodate the team, Amanda sat several seats down and across from him. He tried to remember his list of reasons not to do Amanda again. Oh, yeah, his career, his contract, his mother needing him close. All these things meant he couldn’t take risks and become headlines.
But just when he’d wrapped his mind around those concepts, Becker sat next to Amanda, apparently over the cold shoulder he’d been giving her. Brad watched as the kid flirted with her, and tossed gloating looks in Brad’s direction. Brad so wanted to ram the fact he’d already won their bet down Becker’s throat. The kid was lucky there was an audience and that Brad had promised Amanda not to tell anyone about them.
Tony slapped the table, pulling Brad out of a fantasy where he jacked Becker against a wall and made him cry like a baby. “When Amanda screamed I realized she was locked in the bathroom. I thought I was going to roll out of my seat laughing,” Tony said, reaching for his beer.
“Have you ever been in a bathroom when a plane drops half out of the sky?” she demanded. “I was sure my head was going through the ceiling.”
“It wasn’t as bad as you thought,” Reggie told her, biting back laughter unsuccessfully. “Drink up. You’re still frazzled.”
“I was worried about you,” Becker offered, acting sincere.
“I bet you were,” Brad said, unable to hold back. “Afraid she wouldn’t live long enough to retract that garter story?”
Becker’s face colored but he didn’t get to respond. Jack, who’d arrived a couple hours after the team, and now sat several seats down from Amanda, took a dig at her.
“Maybe you should sedate her for the next flight,” Jack commented. “Might make things more tolerable.” He chuckled and brought his beer to his lips, taking a drink. “Nothing more distracting than a screaming female.”
Amanda cast him a sticky-sweet smile. “Tell me, Jack. When was the last time you heard a female scream?”
The entire table exploded in laughter. Jack shook his head, smiling. “You are something, Amanda.” He paused. “Speaking of making women scream, I arranged a little treat for you gentlemen. A private party down at The Red Zone. Free drinks and hot women. Bring your own dollar bills.” Hoots of appreciation flared around the table. When they died down Jack eyed Amanda. “You’re welcome to come.”
Brad heard Becker offer to stay to keep Amanda company. Amanda declined. Good. The job was taken. Now all Brad had to do was wait for the guys to leave.
Exactly an hour later, he’d ditched the team. After a failed attempt to get her room number from the desk clerk, he called Amanda’s cell.
“Brad?” Surprise registered in her voice when she answered.
“What room are you in?”
“What? I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“We agreed. No sex. I mean, no contact on the road.”
“Define sex,” he said.
She made a frustrated sound. “Nothing remotely like sex.”
He frowned. “All right. We’ll order room service and I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Okay, no, I won’t. Tell me your room number.”
“Brad.”
God, he loved the way she said his name. “You know you want to.”
“You always say that.”
He smiled into the phone. “Only because it’s true.”
“We can’t.”
“No one will know.”
“Another one of your famous lines,” she replied. “I figured you’d be out with the guys at the topless bar.”
“There’s only one woman I want to see topless.” He softened his voice. “Please, Amanda. I’m dying here.”
“You make me do things I know I shouldn’t, Brad Rogers.”
“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart. Believe me.”
“Room 125,” she whispered and hung up.
18
AT 5:00 A.M. THE DAY the team left for Dallas, having completed the Houston series, Amanda stood at her hotel door saying her goodbyes to Brad.
He held her close, his hands sliding beneath her silk robe to touch her naked skin. He should be leaving so that he’d be in his own room before the team was up and about. Instead, he seemed to linger.
“Don’t be nervous about the flight.” He kissed her nose. “It’s a short hop, up and down, and it’s over.”
They had their plan worked out. They’d take seats far apart from one another on the plane. They’d pretend they weren’t intimate with every inch of each other’s bodies. They’d pretend they hadn’t spent every night of this trip exploring each other with slow, exquisite perfection.
“I hate take off and landing. I’ll pretty much be in hell.”
“I wish I could sit with you and keep your mind off of it.” He nuzzled her neck. “Pull down the shade and shut your eyes. Think about all those things I did to you last night.”
“Hmm,” she said, smiling. “There’s a plan that might actually work.”
“You remember I’m meeting your sister later tonight, right? I really appreciate you setting this up.”
Her hands settled on his chest. She wondered if this would be the last time she’d touch it, the last time she’d be in his arms. “My sister won’t walk around the facts. She’ll tell you how it is.”
He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. “Must run in the family.”
“My sister makes me look like an angel. She makes a barracuda look like an angel.”
“I like direct and honest, so we should get along well.” His eyes softened. “I guess I better go before the guys wake up.”
Amanda nodded. “Yeah. Guess so.”
They stared at each other. Neither saying a word about tonight. For the first time, Brad didn’t promise that the night they’d just shared would be their last. But they also didn’t speak of having another night together. Amanda wasn’t sure what to think of that.
She watched his mouth descend to hers, anticipation building even as emotions rushed over her. Emotions she didn’t completely understand. She touched the rough stubble of his morning beard. She loved how he looked when he woke up. So manly. So rumpled and sexy. When his lips touched hers, she felt her chest tighten. Felt her body melt.
The kiss was slow, full of seduction, full of the spark she’d felt during their lovemaking but never in a simple moment such as this one. This was a kiss not about sex. It was a kiss that spoke of affection and tenderness. Had something already taken root despite their best efforts to stay uninvolved?
Long moments later, Brad seemed reluctant to end the kiss, his lips slowly pulling away. His eyes were so blue, she felt as though she were swimming in heaven. They didn’t speak. But she could tell he was reeling from what had just happened as much as she
was.
But they couldn’t name what was between them. They couldn’t allow this to be more than sex. Perhaps, they were both afraid of crossing a line that they could never step back over.
Brad’s knuckles skimmed her jaw. Then he left. Amanda hugged herself, feeling the loss of his presence in every ounce of her body. And when she was completely alone, she faced the truth.
She was falling in love with Brad.
“ALL DONE, sugar,” Kelli said, walking into the exam room where Brad had just been rolled out of an imaging machine. “Sit up and try to relax.”
Brad eased into a sitting position and rolled his shoulders, taking in Amanda’s sister as she told the technician who’d helped with the testing he could go home. She had the same smooth skin as Amanda, the same long hair, only hers was light brown with blond highlights. She was taller with a fuller figure.
Kelli oozed an inborn, Marilyn Monroe kind of sexuality. She didn’t have to dress the role. Even the simple black skirt and blouse seemed to scream sex. There had been a time when he’d liked this type of woman. Now he preferred the soft, sultry combination of innocence and sensuality that Amanda wore like a second skin.
“I said relax,” Kelli commented, hands going to her hips. “If you keep grinding your teeth like that you’ll need a dentist as well as a surgeon.”
“Surgeon?” Brad’s gut tightened.
Kelli’s expression showed nothing, though Brad tried damn hard to read her. “Why don’t we go into the other room and look at the pictures together?” she asked.
They headed for the exit when a male voice came from a short distance away. “Hello. Kelli?”
A man appeared in the doorway. Tall and thin, his dark hair was speckled with gray at the sides. The instant he spied Brad, he smiled. “Brad Rogers.” He offered his hand. “I’m Bill Wright, Amanda and Kelli’s father. I’m a huge fan. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Accepting his hand, Brad said, “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Just Bill. Nobody calls me sir.”
Brad wasn’t surprised at the response. Bill Wright had one of those easygoing personalities Brad always found himself drawn to instantly.
“We were about to take a look at Brad’s test results,” Kelli commented. “I imagine he’s pretty eager to see them.”
“Oh, of course,” Bill said. “I’d love to have a look. Two heads for the price of one.” He paused. “If that’s okay by you?”
“I’d welcome any extra input I can get,” Brad said.
A few moments later, the three of them stood around a computer screen. Kelli punched buttons to take them through a series of images of Brad’s arm, shoulder and hand, explaining what she saw and pointing to the certain areas of concern.
The two doctors threw out a few medical terms, talking back and forth a bit. Finally, they concluded they shared the same opinion of Brad’s treatment options. Bottom line, Brad needed surgery to correct a problem his surgery had caused.
“I was concerned your UCL might be ruptured but it’s not,” Kelli said.
“Can I put this off until the end of the season?” Brad asked.
“On a limited rotation with proper care, and checkups, yes.” Kelli shook her head. “But I don’t like it.”
Brad let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. They still had a shot at the playoffs, and he didn’t want to miss them. “Thank God.”
“You’ll have to tell your coach, son,” Bill said. “Your team doc needs to be involved, giving you constant support.”
“Because if you don’t take care of this right, you could do more damage. Honestly, I wish you’d do the surgery now and be safe. I know I’m wasting my breath saying that. So, think about what you want to do and let me know. I can even meet with your coach if I need to.”
Brad nodded, not willing to commit to anything right now.
“I’ll run grab you some prescriptions and be right back.”
Bill pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to Brad. “Can I talk you out of an autograph, son?”
Brad laughed. “Amanda told me you’d want one.”
“Did she tell you she was supposed to get it for me?” Bill yanked a piece of paper off a nearby table and slid it in front of Brad.
“No,” Brad said. “She didn’t say that but somehow I can’t imagine Amanda asking me for an autograph.”
“Why’s that?”
“Let’s just say, she likes to keep me in my place. Anything that might feed my ego, she wouldn’t do.”
He chuckled. “She thinks you have a big ego?”
“And that I’m arrogant and cocky.”
“Are you?” Bill asked.
“Probably. Amanda seems to smash it right back down, though.”
“Learned that from her mother. She can put a hurting on a man’s ego in a heartbeat.”
They chatted a few more minutes, managing to talk both baseball and cars, clicking like old friends. Brad found this little glimpse into Amanda’s life appealed to him and he wished she was by his side. The thought scared him a little. These feelings he had for Amanda didn’t fit his career plan.
“Okay,” Kelli said, stepping back into the room, prescriptions in hand. “We’re all set.”
“I’ll let you two take care of business,” Bill said. “Have Amanda bring you by to see those Mustangs if you get time before you leave town.”
“Thanks,” Brad said. “I’d like that.” He wanted to experience more of life with Amanda. He actually wanted her to be here with him, right now, helping him figure out what to do.
Kelli watched her father depart, shoved a long strand of hair behind her ear, and then went over Brad’s instructions and medication.
After she finished, she studied him a moment. “It’s clear you and my sister are more than friends. She’s a reporter and still you trusted her with knowledge of your injury.”
What could he say? “Amanda’s easy to trust.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t hurt my sister.”
“I don’t plan to.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what everyone says before they hurt someone. Some careers just don’t support relationships.”
Brad couldn’t resist. “Like an athlete, doctor or pilot?”
“She gave you my list.” Her lips pursed. “Interesting.”
“Yep,” Brad said. “It takes one God complex to spot another.”
“Guess it does.”
Brad didn’t know about a God complex, but certain careers encouraged big egos and self-centered attitudes. Brad realized in that moment, he had some serious decisions to make about himself and Amanda and his career.
AN HOUR AFTER parting ways with Kelli—promising to be in touch soon with his decision about surgery—Brad sat alone in the hotel bar. He was afraid to get on the elevator because he could very well end up in Amanda’s room. He’d never felt this drawn to a woman. Never had a woman gotten in his head and refused to leave. That alone was proof she was a distraction his career couldn’t afford. He needed focus.
Still, no matter how he tried to convince himself of this fact, he yearned to go to Amanda, to talk to her, to touch her. To be with her.
Instead, he stayed where he was. Risking a scandal had become too dangerous. Amanda was too dangerous. He faced surgery now. The obstacles were bigger than ever. The stakes higher.
Kurt sauntered across the bar and sat on the seat across from Brad. “We’re headed to Bone Daddy’s to eat. Hot women in Daisy Dukes and killer barbecue. Wanna ride with us?”
Brad considered the offer. Maybe this was what he needed, a reminder that there was life after Amanda.
Pushing to his feet, Brad said, “Let’s roll.”
19
A WEEK AFTER their return from Dallas, Amanda stood in the press box, watching as Brad took the mound. She assumed he’d had decent news from her sister or he wouldn’t be pitching. Of course, she didn’t know for sure. She hadn’t heard from him. Not a call. Not a visit. Nothing. She hadn’
t asked Kelli about him when she’d picked up her car and had avoided her sister’s prodding and probing about their relationship. At that point, Brad had already started giving her the cold shoulder and Amanda had kept her stupidity over him to herself. She didn’t need a lecture from Kelli about how crazy she’d been to fall for someone on the list.
“Nervous about tomorrow?” Reggie asked.
He was referring to her photo shoot for L.A. Woman. Apparently, since the interview was first arranged, the editors had taken further interest in her. They now planned to put her on the cover.
“Not so much,” Amanda said. “I talked with the editor on the phone for a while and really clicked with her. I felt more comfortable with her than I do with Kevin.”
Reggie grunted. “That’s not hard to do. So, tell me. Since when do you want to sit in the press box?”
She wasn’t sure how to answer that question. The truth was, she felt out of sorts and needed a change, but she didn’t want to say that. “Works for everyone else. I figured I’d see why.”
“Since when are you worried about what everyone else is doing?” He didn’t give her time to answer, pointing at the field. “Rodriquez is up to bat. Did you see him on that Sports-Beat talk show last night?”
“Yeah, I saw him,” Amanda said, watching Brad wind up for his first pitch. “Talking all that junk about hitting off any pitcher in the league. Baseball players. Such a cocky bunch.”
The ball flew past the batter, untouched. “Oh, man,” Reggie said, eyes wide. “Brad is on tonight. How hard was that?”
Amanda eyed him. “Fast. It was fast. You don’t know squat about baseball, do you?”
Reggie grinned. “I usually fake it quite well.”
The announcer’s voice filled the air. “Pitcher Brad Rogers is firing in the balls tonight. That one registered at one-hundred-and-one miles per hour, folks.”
Four innings later, Brad started walking people and Amanda could tell his arm hurt. He’d pitched a great game, but from what she’d seen of him, past and present, his arm had simply given out. The coach sent in Casey to relieve with the scoreboard favoring the Rays. Unless Casey blew it, the Rays would log in another win.