CHAPTER TWO
When Yank insisted Roper show up at this gig, he’d agreed under duress. Now Roper realized fate wanted him here so it could present him with the one thing he needed—a distraction from his career problems, his sister’s wedding and his brother’s constant whining about a loan. Amy Stone provided that distraction. Apparently, life had given him a second chance, and he decided to take this as the first positive sign in ages. Maybe things were looking up after all.
He vividly recalled the instant attraction he’d felt for Amy the first time he’d laid eyes on her. And the stirring in his body told him that much hadn’t changed. He’d gone to the wedding out of obligation, still in a funk over the blown World Series. But one look at the pretty brunette and all thoughts of his problems had fled. She’d been a breath of fresh air in his down-and-out life. He’d actually forgotten all about his date, mostly because she was simply arm candy and hadn’t meant anything to him at all. Not that that was an excuse. Although Roper liked women—all women, blond, brunette or redhead, natural or from a bottle—when he looked at Amy, the punch in the gut had been harder and more defined.
He hadn’t lost sight of the fact that he’d made an ass of himself the last time they were together and he owed her an apology for what had transpired. Now, with everyone gone, he and Amy were alone in their own corner of the party and she met his gaze head-on, not blinking or backing down.
He admired the fact that he couldn’t rattle her and refused to rush his perusal. She had tanned skin only someone from a southern state could manage, a fresh, unjaded look in her eyes, and curly hair that didn’t appear overly set with sprays or products. He could definitely get into tangling his hands in the soft brown curls.
But most of all he wanted to be with a woman who in all likelihood didn’t keep up with New York sports news and Roper’s humiliations. One who wouldn’t pity him, judge him or want something from him in any way. Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. Chances were good she hadn’t forgiven him for the scene at the wedding, and he couldn’t blame her.
“So how have you been?” he asked once they were alone, or as alone as they could be in a room full of people.
“Just fine, and you?” She folded her arms across her chest, causing her cleavage to swell above the glittery gold tank she wore beneath a white silk blouse.
He knew Amy’s movement was unintentional, and he had to admit her lack of pretense was one of the things he found most appealing about her. “I’ve been better,” he admitted, opting for honesty.
But he didn’t want to get into his recent problems. He cleared his throat and asked, “Been in town long?” Not his best line, but he wanted to change the subject.
She shook her head. “Not very.”
She wasn’t making this easy. For the first time, he was uptight around a woman and unsure of how to reach her. “So, um, when do you leave?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “Anxious to get rid of me already?”
He shook his head, exhaling hard. “I’m blowing this big-time. Let’s backtrack, okay? It’s good to see you again.”
“Same here.” She immediately pursed her lips.
He’d bet she wished she could take that comment back, but he liked her refreshing honesty.
She turned, obviously scanning the crowd.
He followed her gaze but couldn’t pinpoint anyone or anything that would have distracted her. “Looking for someone?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” she said as she pivoted back to face him. “I was trying to locate your date.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “What makes you think I brought one?” he asked.
“Experience.”
“Touché.”
She shrugged. “I can’t imagine you spending New Year’s Eve alone.” She reached her hand out, tapping a finger against his pink Ralph Lauren dress shirt.
She was bolder than he thought she’d be, but the slight trembling of her fingers told him the movement was forced. He’d bet she didn’t want him to think he could get to her again.
Well, hell. She got to him. “You wound me,” Roper said.
“You’ll live.”
He laughed hard, something he hadn’t done in way too long. “I suppose I deserved that.”
She grinned. “You supposed right.” Her hand lingered. Her pink fingernails were short and blended with the color of his shirt.
His flesh burned hot underneath the material. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her delicate fingertips lingering so close to the buttons that would let his skin touch hers.
She followed his stare, glanced down, realized she hadn’t removed her hand and snatched it away, leaving him to wonder if she’d felt the same searing heat.
She cleared her throat. “Well, your shirt’s clean so I assume you’ve been a good boy. You haven’t ticked off your date, at least not yet. So where is she? Ladies’ room? Buffet table?”
They were bantering easily and he was glad. But he’d like for her to get to know him better so he could erase the bad first impression he’d made. “If I admit that was tacky and I apologize, can we start over?” he asked.
“That depends.” She narrowed her gaze, assessing him in silence, but assessing him nonetheless.
Roper decided the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off him was a good thing. At least it was mutual. He couldn’t stop staring at her, either. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d be good for him. A welcome break from physical therapy for his sprained shoulder and from wondering whether or not he’d return in time for spring training.
“I didn’t come with a date,” he admitted, refocusing on Amy. “Lesson learned the hard way.” Thank God.
She inclined her head. “That’s a start,” she murmured.
“What if I told you I was so taken by you at the wedding that I couldn’t help myself, date or no date?”
She swiped her tongue over her lightly glossed lips. “I’d say you were pushing it and would be better off with just the apology.”
“Even if I was telling the truth?”
“Especially then,” she said, her voice huskier than before.
He stepped closer, so close he could examine each freckle on her nose and cheeks. “Come on, give me another chance. Let’s start fresh.” On impulse, he reached out and ran his finger down the tip of her nose. Skin touched skin and his hand sizzled on contact.
Her eyes widened with awareness, but she didn’t back away.
Pleased, he tipped his head even closer. “So, what do you say?”
She bit down on her lower lip, pausing in thought.
The seconds that he waited were the longest of his life.
“For the sake of peace, why not?” she finally said.
He had the second chance he’d sought, he thought with relief. “Can I get you some punch?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m going to stay away from alcohol. Besides, I should really get—”
A loud, bell-like sound clanged, drowning out her voice.
“What’s that?” Amy yelled over the noise.
“Sounds like a fire alarm.”
And he must have been right because the guests, talking loudly among themselves, headed for the front of the offices leading to the hallway.
“Let’s get moving,” he said.
“Are you serious? We’re twenty floors up!” Panicked, she grabbed for her heels.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to take off my shoes so I could run downstairs easier!”
He swallowed a laugh, knowing her fear was real. “In my experience, more often than not it’s a false alarm.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Haven’t you ever seen The Towering Inferno?”
He chuckled aloud this time. “It’s a bad seventies movie, not reality. But you have a point. Let’s get going. If the shoes don’t hurt, you can keep them on. We’re not going to be running. Just moving quickly.”
She nodded.
“Shoes on or off?” he asked, talking loudly to compensate for the clanging bell.
“On. The heels aren’t that high. I’ll be fine.”
Before she could make a run for the stairs or push through the crowds, Roper slipped his hand into hers and took control. He led her to the fire exit along with the rest of the guests and they maneuvered the long walk down in silence, punctuated by the alarm but with no hint of smoke or fire. Finally, they stepped into the front lobby and were greeted by firemen in uniform directing people to the sidewalk across the street.
From what Roper could gather, the fire chief thought it was a false alarm, but until they checked out the building, they couldn’t be sure. Everyone needed to evacuate.
Outside, he caught up with one of his teammates.
Jorge Calderone lifted a hand in greeting. “Someone say Yank Morgan trip on his Noodle and accidentally pull on the fire alarm,” he said in his heavy accent.
Roper shook his head and laughed. “You’re kidding. Was the old man hurt?”
“He’s fine. But Sophia mucho angry that he ruined the party.”
Roper thought of perfectionist Sophie and said, “I just bet she is.”
“I’m not staying to freeze my ass off out here. See ya, mi amigo.” Jorge strode away without looking back.
Roper turned to Amy. “I’d have introduced you to my friend but he took off too fast.”
“Not a problem.” Her voice shook as she spoke and she had wrapped her arms around her upper body as she shivered in the below-freezing temperatures.
He slipped his sport jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders.
She smiled appreciatively. “Thanks. I left my jacket at the coat check when I arrived, and my body is used to much warmer temperatures.”
“I should have figured as much. Can I take you somewhere for dinner? I know a nice place with good food.” The party might be over, but he wasn’t ready to part ways with Amy just yet.
“No thanks. I really should just go home, change and get warm. Oh, no.” She swung around and glanced back at the building.
“What’s wrong?”
She shut her eyes, frustration clear in her expression. “I left my key in my coat pocket.”
He shoved his hands into his front trouser pockets for warmth. “I’m sure the hotel would issue you another one, unless your ID is in your pocket, too?”
“No. But I’m not talking about a hotel key card. I’m talking about the actual key to my apartment.”
“Wait, you live here? In New York?” Suddenly he was wary. Earlier when he’d pursued her, somewhere in the back of his mind was the knowledge that Amy was in town for a short time. No hopes, no expectations to add to his burdens. Except, apparently, he was wrong.
“I just moved here. I’m subletting Micki’s apartment since it’s too small for her whole family and they stay at Damian’s when they’re in the city, anyway.” Amy hopped from foot to foot in order to keep warm. “I take it Micki didn’t mention it?”
Roper shook his head. He was going to strangle his best friend for the omission. If he’d known Amy was a permanent resident, he wouldn’t have restarted his flirtation. He was looking for a quick fix and a good time. Not a relationship with a woman nearby who, though she kept her distance now, would undoubtedly begin to expect something more eventually. He’d had enough of that already.
“I could talk to Sophie or Yank and see if they have an extra key, but they look tied up with the firemen,” she said, glancing over his shoulder. “I guess I’ll just wait.”
Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed red from the cold and her curls were tousled around her pretty face. Oh, hell, who was he kidding? Even if he had known she’d moved to town, he’d have had a hard time staying away. Besides, he wasn’t going to over-think this, just make the most of it.
She shivered and he stepped toward the curb, hailing the first yellow cab that appeared and opening the door so she could get in first.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“My place.” Where she could warm up before he took her back to her building to see if the doorman or super had a spare key.
It was New Year’s Eve and he wanted to keep her with him for a while longer.
* * *
Amy hadn’t agreed to go to his apartment. She just wanted to get warm. She settled into the taxicab seat, then Roper sat down beside her. His body heat rippled through her, warming her when just seconds before she was chilled inside and out.
He rattled off an address to the driver.
“Wait.”
“You need warm clothes and maybe some hot food before dealing with Micki’s grouchy doorman,” he said, before leaning forward and telling the driver to go.
She knew better than to sound like an ungrateful brat, considering she was freezing, hungry and she had nowhere else to go. “Good point. Thanks.” Teeth chattering, she leaned back in her seat for the duration of the ride to his high-rise farther uptown.
When she finally walked into his apartment twenty minutes later, she was immediately reminded that she still wasn’t used to city living. In her old world, one-floor ranch homes were the norm. Her house in Florida hadn’t been huge, but because everything was spread out on one level, the square footage seemed larger. Her father had left her mother with enough insurance money to let them live comfortably, and once her uncle had bought the real estate he’d turned into a retirement community along with his fellow investors, he’d insisted his sisters move there, as well. Amy had lived in one of the smaller units, paying token rent. Here in New York, her new apartment was small and quaint.
Roper’s place was enormous. She sensed how large it was just by looking across, past the sliding doors to the terrace off the living room. Then there was the decor. In a masculine cocoa-and-cream color scheme, the living room held a plush suede sofa and ottoman, two club chairs and a rectangular marble cocktail table in the center. A massive large-screen TV hung on the wall across from the sitting area, while behind the couch, framed artwork made the room come alive.
“Like it?” Roper asked as he tossed his keys into a bowl in a practiced movement.
“It’s gorgeous.”
He grinned. “Thanks. I decorated it myself.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.
“I’m impressed.” What other hidden talents did he have? Amy wondered.
He shrugged. “Why pay a professional if I can just as easily do it myself? That’s my motto. Anyway, let me get you something to change into. My sister leaves comfortable clothes here in case she’s too lazy to go home, which used to happen pretty often before she met her fiancé. She won’t mind if you borrow them.”
Amy rubbed her hands up and down her arms, covered only by her thin blouse. “Thanks.”
“After you warm up, we’ll talk about what to eat. I’ll be right back.”
She turned to study her surroundings once more, her gaze coming to rest on the trophies in a dark wood cabinet with glass doors. MVP, Golden Glove and other notable mentions were inscribed on plaques with John Roper’s name.
He walked back into the room with a stack of clothes in his hand. “Take your pick.”
“Nice set of awards. Once again, you’ve impressed me,” she said as she accepted a sweat outfit.
“I hope the awards aren’t the only things you like about me, because you know what they say, all good things come to an end.” He studied her through narrowed eyes.
“I don’t know you well enough to know what I like about you.” She knew better than to mention the career problems she’d just learned about tonight.
“Good answer.” He smiled and his eyes softened, warming her a bit more.
She supposed it couldn’t be easy to meet women and not know whether they were interested in him or in his status and money. Amy had no use for either. She’d grown up comfortable and didn’t need excessive luxury, although what her mother couldn’t afford, her uncle had always provided. But Amy never took having material things for granted. Love and family were much more important than money. But he didn’t know enough about her to understand she was a genuine person and she knew better than to try to convince him with mere words.
She had already seen there was more to Roper than the player she’d assumed him to be. Like his ability to apologize for mistakes and his chivalry in bringing her back here to warm up with seemingly no ulterior motive.
“Let’s get to know each other better over a good meal. While you change, I’ll fix us up something to eat,” he said.
“There’s no need for you to go to any trouble. We can order in. It’s easier. And I ought to know—I’ve been living on takeout.”
Although she had essentially been the caretaker in the family, keeping everyone busy and out of trouble, she’d also been spoiled by living near her mother and aunt. They’d served her home-cooked meals and delivered them to her doorstep if she wanted to be alone. She hadn’t had to worry about fixing things for herself, which was a good thing, because she was a hazard in the kitchen. Here in New York, she’d been too busy making Micki’s apartment her own and learning her way around the city to attempt making meals, too.
“That settles it, then. I’m definitely cooking. It relaxes me, and besides, it’s healthier than eating the fried food and heavy sauces you’ll find in takeout.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “A man who cooks? Now, there’s something to like about you. I knew that list wouldn’t be all that hard. I’ll change and then maybe you can give me some pointers in the kitchen.”
“I’d be happy to.” His eyes sparkled with pleasure. “Bathroom’s down the hall on your right.” He pointed toward the back of the apartment.
She headed to change in his spare bathroom, something her apartment didn’t have, and a few minutes later she returned to the kitchen dressed in sweats that were a little snug but much warmer and more comfortable than the outfit she’d worn to the party.
She stood in the doorway and took in the gorgeous state-of-the-art kitchen. “Wow. My mother would be impressed.”
“I’m impressed, too.” His gaze traveled leisurely over her, his eyes darkening with distinct approval. “You dress down as well as you dress up. The rumpled, fresh-out-of-bed look suits you,” he said with a sexy grin.
Her face warmed at the compliment and her body followed suit.
“I didn’t realize you were that much taller than my sister,” he said, taking in the sweats that she’d rolled around her calves.
She glanced down at her bare ankles. “Well, at least capris are in style.”
“They are, and they look great on you.”
“Thanks.” A flush rose to her cheeks. She could say the same about how good he looked, too.
He’d opened the first few buttons on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, giving him an edgy, sexy look. “So, let’s get started. You said you wanted lessons. I take it cooking’s not your thing?”
She sighed and lifted her hands uselessly in the air. “Nope. They say children learn by watching, but I’m afraid I never picked up Mom’s talent. Not even the basics.”
“Well, then, sit and I’ll teach you.”
She realized he’d already taken out presliced chicken strips and now he was slicing fresh vegetables on a cutting board. A wok sat ready and waiting for him to use.
“Starting with precut and sliced food helps,” she said, laughing.
He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re that much of a novice, hmm?”
“And you’re that much of an expert?”
He nodded.
Everything about the man took her by surprise. A really pleasant surprise.
She settled herself onto a barstool near the island, where he was working.
“I buy presliced chicken because my schedule’s so hectic I never know how much time I’ll have. On a night like tonight, it comes in handy. You can buy precut vegetables, as well, but it takes me no time and I’d rather eat fresh. Now I’m nearly ready to toss the vegetables into the wok.”
She blinked at how fast he’d prepared a meal that would have taken her an hour minimum. “Maybe I should be taking notes,” she mused as she reached over and plucked a carrot from the cutting board.
“Hey, quit nibbling or you won’t be hungry enough to enjoy my masterpiece.” He playfully smacked at her hand, but she was faster.
She nabbed another carrot before he could stop her.
In two steps he stood by her side, his presence big and overwhelming, the heat in his eyes matching the desire pulsing through her veins. From the moment she’d laid eyes on this man, she’d been seduced by his looks. What sane woman wouldn’t be?
But in the short time she was with him tonight, she’d seen glimpses of the everyday guy he really was. She really liked what she saw.
He reached for the carrot and she tucked it tighter into her hand.
“Give it up,” he ordered, clearly amused by her game.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Make me.”
He tickled her but she held on fast, eagerly anticipating his next method of extraction.
Their eyes met and held. Her pulse pounded hard in her throat and the anticipation of his lips hot and hard on hers sent tremors quaking through her body.
She slid her tongue over her mouth, moistening her lips, waiting, hoping…
The jarring ring of the telephone broke the thick silence surrounding them. His head jerked toward the sound.
Needing space, Amy jumped up from her chair. “You should answer it,” she said, her voice unusually shaky.
He shot her a glance filled with equal parts heat and regret before grabbing the portable phone behind him. “Yeah,” he barked into the phone, then listened to whoever was on the other end.
“Sorry. Happy New Year to you, too, Mom. Why aren’t you out at one of those Hollywood parties you love so much?”
Hollywood? That was an interesting tidbit of information, Amy thought. And far better to focus on that than how close they’d come to kissing.
“Oh, right. Time difference. I forgot. I’m distracted, that’s all.” His gaze settled on Amy, his stare deep and consuming, letting her know he hadn’t forgotten what had almost happened between them. What could still happen if she let it.
He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. What’s going on?” he asked. His expression darkened the longer his mother spoke. “No, Mom, I’m not giving Ben money to invest in a gym.”
He listened, then said, “Because giving money to my brother is like throwing it away, that’s why.” Roper pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have you forgotten about all the failed businesses that I did subsidize for him? Never mind. I can’t talk about this now. I have company.”
He winked at Amy, but she didn’t miss the fact that his previously playful side had disappeared.
“Yes, Mom, female company. Just how long am I supposed to compensate Ben because I made it in the majors and he didn’t?”
Obviously, his mother wasn’t listening to what Roper said, and Amy winced. As an only child, she wasn’t used to dealing with siblings. But she was used to coping with stubborn adults who acted like kids and who wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was being given an inkling into Roper’s family dynamics, and they seemed to be in as much turmoil as his career.
“I didn’t say family wasn’t important, Mom. Go to your party and we’ll talk about this tomorrow,” he said, his voice softening.
He obviously loved his mother. He also had a complex family situation, but really, who didn’t? She’d had to leave home to get a life, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about every move Rose and Darla made. She loved them, but there were times they grated on her nerves, pushing every emotional button she possessed.
Roper obviously felt the same way about his family. His life wasn’t easy, she thought. She quietly slipped the carrot they’d fought over into her mouth and waited for him to finish his call.
“Yes,” he said, raising a finger toward Amy to indicate he’d be off soon. “Yes, I know. Go enjoy and forget about it for now. Oh, and Mom? Happy New Year,” Roper said.
He hung up the phone and turned her way. A flush highlighted his cheekbones and a muscle ticked on one side of his face. “Nothing like a call from Mom to kill the mood,” he said too lightly.
Amy figured he needed a minute or two to calm down, so she let him turn away and place the food into the heated wok.
She tried to use the minutes wisely, reminding herself she wasn’t going to be taken in by his charm, something he possessed and no doubt knew how to use in spades. After all, he was not just an athlete but a showman. Yet already she was coming to know him better and to like him despite all common sense. She tried to calm her still-racing heart, but Roper’s effect on her was very strong. And the whole night lay ahead….