Chapter Six

Rhett

“Hey, dude,” Ernie said, slapping me on the shoulder. “Your girl’s here.” He gave me a conspiratorial wink. “She’s here with that other reporter, the one that got beat with the ugly stick.”

“Brenna?” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you fuckin’ serious?”

Ernie grinned. “Hell yes, I am. And she’s looking foxy, too.” He jerked his head to the side. “They’re right outside.”

I glanced at the clock on the Jumbotron. I was all warmed up, and we had about half an hour until hordes of rabid Yankee fans would rush the stands. A glorious afternoon sun shone down since the weather had been so mild for so early in the season. I’d been planning to pitch my best game yet…that was until Brenna Sinclair and Riley Buxton decided to drop by and surprise me.

“Hey, Bradshaw,” Don called, raising an eyebrow when I looked up. “You gonna work some magic today or what?”

“Is Donald Trump orange?” I called back. “I won’t let you down.”

I’d meant it as a joke, but when Don scowled, I knew he was still seething from that horrible headline and maybe my in-poor-taste one liner. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to Ernie. I felt like no matter what I did, I couldn’t catch a break.

“So they’re waiting for me? I don’t normally meet with the press right now.”

“You’re fucking slow on the uptake, man,” Ernie replied. “I think this can be considered a special circumstance. Come on, douche.” He jerked his head to the side and led the way into the dugout.

Brenna and Riley waited outside, both wearing sundresses, big sunglasses, and free of their work bags. Brenna looked incredible – her light green dress perfectly complimented her creamy white skin and rockin’ curves. The freckles on her shoulders looked lickable, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to pull her to the side and shove her against the wall as our mouths met in a frantic dance of passion.

“Hey, Rhett,” Riley chirped, wearing a saucy smirk that complemented her billowing pink dress. “How’re you?”

Ernie stepped to the side, wolf-whistling loudly as he saw Riley and Brenna. “Hey, ladies,” Ernie said, grinning. He struck a pose in front of them. “So pleased you decided to drop by. I’m ready for my close up.”

Brenna smiled at him, but then she turned back to me, and her grin grew wider. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from letting the cat out of the bag with my hungry expression. She’s one hundred percent mine. All I have to do is reach out and take her. And I will. I can’t remember when I’ve wanted a woman more.

Ernie stepped up to Brenna and gave her the once over with his eagle eye. “So, how you feeling, girl?” In the shadowy light of the dugout, it looked as though her bruise had faded completely. No way. After a few seconds of staring, I realized she’d slathered her gorgeous face in a thick layer of makeup.

As they chatted, Riley’s tiny fingers wrapped around my arm. She smiled at me, then leaned up on tiptoe and whispered, “I’ve got her primed for you. She’s all yours, Rhett.”

Nodding my thanks, I stepped away from Riley and squared my body to face Brenna. I didn’t want her to think I was interested in her mousy little coworker, especially not when Ernie was fake fawning all over her so she wouldn’t interfere with my conversation with Brenna. A shiver traveled across the back of my neck at the depth of Riley’s antics. Damn corporate climbers. I was so glad I didn’t have to wear a suit and deal with that backhanded shit.

“I’m feeling a lot better,” Brenna said, peeking at me from underneath long eyelashes. She smiled at me, and I felt it in every cell. “Riley suggested we come to the game today – it might help to jog my memory.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds kind of cheesy, though, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Ernie said. “In fact, just this morning, Rhett kept going on about how he couldn’t wait to tell you about how you used to…”

Before Ernie could finish talking, Riley launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around his tan neck, pressing her lips against his. Ernie didn’t even fight it. He never resisted when a girl flung herself at him, even if he didn’t find her that attractive. He’d never been as discerning as me.

A nervous giggle escaped Brenna’s lush lips as a chorus of catcalls erupted all around us. “Um, I didn’t know that you two knew each other,” she said, confusion written all over her expression after Riley pulled away from Ernie. My friend just stood there grinning like the village idiot, running a finger across Riley’s flushed cheek.

Fuck, I thought. I can’t believe he almost spilled the beans like that. Thank goodness for mousy girl’s quick thinking and thirst for career glory.

“So,” Brenna said. She stepped closer, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. “I hope you don’t mind that we decided to crash the game.” She smiled again. That damn smile that made me hard and straining because it finally reached her eyes just like it had in the hospital. “It’s really nice to see you again, Rhett. I never got a chance to thank you for visiting me.”

I grinned, loving every second of her undivided attention. The way Brenna looked at me made me feel like nothing else existed in the entire universe besides her and this intimate moment. A moment where she wasn’t shooting daggers at me with her eyes while her lips spat venom.

“Of course.” I winked at her and was delighted to see a splash of pink across her cheeks. “It was my pleasure. I couldn’t have stayed away.”

“Really?” Brenna laughed softly. “Are you sure we just met the other day?”

Ernie and Riley looked on, staring at me. I saw Ernie open his mouth, then close it again before clamping his lips into a tight white line. I shot him a quelling look for good measure. “Of course,” I repeated. “Would I lie to you?” It actually wasn’t a total lie. It wasn’t like I’d ever had a real conversation with the woman. Mostly snarls and accusations hurled my way.

Brenna blushed even deeper. “No,” she said in a soft tone. “I guess not.”

“Come on,” I said, gesturing toward the diamond. Being too close to Riley and Ernie made me uncomfortable. What if he said something else that would cause Brenna to remember that I was asshole number one in her work life? I figured that Riley would clue him in once they were alone together. But ever since the kiss, Ernie stared at Riley, probably seeing her in a whole new light. Labeled with an easy tag.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m gonna take you around the bases,” I said with a gallant flourish, offering Brenna my arm. “You might remember a little more if you see the stands from the field.”

“I’m not sure,” she said with another soft laugh. “But that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her delicate arm through my elbow. Touching her set all my pistons to firing, like her skin carried a magnetic charge. As she stepped closer, a fresh wave of floral perfume washed over me, and my cock twitched and chafed inside my cup.

“So,” Brenna said as we walked away from the dugout. “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?”

“Not really,” I said, going with the honest answer. I’d been so damn worried about her, I hadn’t even thought of going out to a club. “Ernie – that guy back there – and I went to dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” Brenna agreed. We walked across the outfield and onto the baseball diamond. She pulled her sunglasses off her head and slid them back on, covering her lovely green eyes. “Wow. It’s really a view from here. You can’t even tell you’re in New York.”

I breathed in the compliment. “I know. It’s like my personal office cubicle. Every time I’m on the field, I kind of forget about the rest of the world. Baseball is like a magical thing, you know. It’s like nothing can touch me when I’m playing.” Except you, I wanted to add. For some reason, I can’t get you out of my mind. I wish you’d touch me again.

“Wow,” Brenna said. “I’m a little jealous. There isn’t really anything that eclipses the world’s problems for me like that.” She sighed softly, parting her pink lips just enough for my balls to throb with lust as I imagined her opening her mouth above the head of my cock. If she sank to her knees right in front of all these people, I wouldn’t stop her. I shook my deranged head to get the image out. I had a game to play, dammit. No other woman had ever been a distraction. Until right the fuck now. “I wish I had something that I cared about that much. I love my career, but I don’t think it’s that much of a passion. At least, I don’t think so.”

I shrugged, saddened by the gloomy look on her face as she struggled to remember. “It doesn’t always work. I’ve definitely thrown a few bad games. Last year, my best friend from high school died in a car crash. I found out just minutes before I had to pitch, and damn. It was the worst game I’ve ever thrown. Some dipshit hit a grand slam off me in the bottom of the fifth.”

That dipshit was Frank Guglia, star first baseman for the Red Sox, but she didn’t have to know that. Because then she might remember that she already wrote about it. With glee.

Brenna bit down on her lip, looking pensive. Immediately, I wanted to devour every word I’d just spoken – Brenna had covered that game, and I just jogged a portion of her memory. But when she spoke, her kind words floored me.

“That must have been so awful for you.” She reached out to place a delicate hand on my forearm, eyeing me over the rim of her glasses. “That sounds terrible.”

I nodded. I couldn’t believe she didn’t remember, so I just focused on the electricity of her touch and not on the fact that I’d soon implode our budding truce. For right now, I just wanted to soak up every last bit of kind and sympathetic Brenna.

“It was,” I agreed. “I still miss him. Every day.”

“So,” Brenna said as she stepped closer. “I’m not covering this game, which is probably good.” God, I loved how her expression lit up the entire stadium when she smiled and laughed. “I mean, I barely even remember working much before.” She frowned and gnawed at her lip. “What if I’m not very good? What will happen to my career?”

I blew out a breath. More than anything, I wanted to tell her it would be fine, that she would be fine. Everyone knew her as a journalist on the rise. But being around a woman as sexy as Brenna Sinclair and trying to think straight at the same time was like throwing a perfect curveball after drinking twenty shots of tequila. Fucking impossible.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley lifting a camera to her face and pointing it toward us. Well, here we go.

She was keeping up her end of the bargain. Now I just needed to get to work and make sure I got what I wanted.

Before it was too late.