Finally, Carter had something to take his mind off Jordan Douglas.

Baseball.

It was late February and spring training had officially begun. The Sluggers were in the Grapefruit League, which meant he was headed over to Florida for the next month and a half. Tropical weather, beaches or lakes within driving distance, hot girls in bikinis even at this time of year. Normally, Carter would have eaten it up.

They were playing the Baltimore Orioles in Sarasota. Right on the beach. Last year this time he had been scoping out honeys in the stands who were a little too enthusiastic to simply have a love of the game. This year all he could do was compare them to Jordan.

He shook that thought off. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t at least called or texted. He didn’t want to think it was over between them, at least not without a formal goodbye. In fact, he refused to think it was over between them. When he got back to Houston, he would work on getting her back.

And he had every intention of getting her back.

For now, he’d let her have her law review duties and final exams.

For now, he would focus on his second love: baseball.

Truth be told he loved spring training better than the regular season. The pressure was off. No pennant to vie for yet, no in-division ranking to keep an eye on with anxious determination. Just pure baseball. He got a chance to nostalgically appreciate fresh blood trying to move out of the minors and into the majors. He could sympathize with their ambition.

Yes, a month away from Houston, from Texas, from Jordan, was just what he needed.

* * *

He had caved.

A few team members had booked a hotel room at the Ritz. Obviously, they had invited the Sluggers’ famous home run hitter to join in the fun. It certainly helped entice the clique of New College of Florida coeds to join them for some after-game fun. After all, the Sluggers had won 4-2 against the Orioles today.

What better way to put Jordan out of his mind than loud music, free flowing booze, and distracting eye-candy? Carter had immediately been on board.

Now that he was there, the reality was far less appealing. In fact, it was damn depressing.

Carter sat in an armchair in the suite watching his younger, less inhibited, teammates play the mating game with a few girls who were just barely old enough to drink.

Right now, a size-2 brunette was making her way over to him. He was surprised to find himself eyeing that postage-stamped sized skirt and white halter top with concern rather than lust. How the hell old was she?

“So,” she slurred, sitting on the arm of his chair, one hand holding a Heineken. “You’re the big shot home run hitter, huh?”

He gave a perfunctory smile. What little there was of the skirt slid high enough up her thigh to give Carter a tiny peek of the hot-pink, lacy thing standing between her and the big bad wolves of the world.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “How old are you?”

In the past, such a question would have been nothing more than a precaution. No sense in getting into trouble when you didn’t need to. Now, he was honestly curious. He looked at the barely-there clothing, the facial features that still harkened back to teenaged innocence—and it bothered him. A lot.

“Twenty-one,” she said with a smile and a wink, “Just turned legal one month ago!” She held her bottle of beer up in the air in salute.

It did nothing to quell the instinctive, paternal reaction that ran through him.

She leaned in and gave him a wicked grin that could only be read one way. “Wanna go back to the bedroom?” she purred. “I give the abso-fuckin-loutely best head ever.”

Carter flinched at the boldness of it, still feeling rather fatherly—and just where the hell had that come from? The entire declaration had made his dick practically shrink back into his groin.

This was someone’s daughter and here she was offering head to a man simply because he had the ability to hit a few home runs.

“I have a better idea,” he suggested. “Why don’t we take this to the balcony?”

Her smile indicated that she had a totally different interpretation of that suggestion than he had intended. All the same, if it kept her occupied until she could dry up—in every sense of the word—he figured it was worthwhile.

He took her elbow and led her out onto the narrow ledge, closing the sliding glass door behind them. His plan had been to enjoy the view, maybe talk for a bit as she sobered up and re-evaluated her life choices.

“So, what are you majoring in?” he asked, attempting to start off on an innocuous topic.

“You don’t have to small talk me to get me on my knees,” she purred with a smile. She came up close to him. “I’ve heard all about you, Carter Fox.”

Before he realized what was going on she reached out and grabbed the crotch of his jeans. “Ohh!” she exclaimed, her eyes getting brighter. “Hellooo, daddy. It looks like the rumors are true.”

Daddy?

Was he really that old? Looking at the fresh—if slightly sluggish with beer—face below him, he certainly felt old.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there darlin’,” he said, quickly grabbing her hand and removing it. He used the other to gently push her away.

The beer delayed the reaction, but it came soon enough. Confusion. Hurt. Anger.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?”

That look on her face almost killed him. An icy hot dagger of guilt went through his heart as he remembered all the women in his past who had probably also based their self-worth on whether or not their lips were wrapped around his cock.

“No,” he began. Her face crumpled. “I mean of course you’re pretty—”

“Then what?” she said, getting angry. “What’s the matter with you? Do you know how many guys would jump at this opportunity?”

This was getting out of hand. “Listen, why don’t we just sit and talk.”

“Talk?” she spat back at him. “I didn’t come to this party to talk.”

She headed back toward the sliding glass door. With one last look over her shoulder, she sneered, “seriously, what the hell is the matter with you?”

He sat down on one of the chairs and looked out at the water. He didn’t have to ask himself the same question. He knew what was the matter with him. The only problem was, he hadn’t called her in a long time.

He should probably do something about that.