Actually, he was worse.
Because he, unlike the others, had sneaked in past her defenses when she wasn’t looking. He’d made himself at home in her heart and was right this very minute power blasting his way back out again, destroying the organ in the process. “Excuse me,” she said stiffly.
Stepping back, he let her go.
She walked down the hotel hallway, her face hot, body hot, everything damn hot, and stopped at the ice machine. Grabbing a spare bucket, she filled it, then lifted the thing and pressed it to her cheek. When that wasn’t enough to cool her jets, she took a piece of ice and ran it over her forehead and then down her neck.
Temper and arousal did not mix well, not with her, and with a sigh, she turned and then went still. Pace stood in the opened doorway of his room, arms crossed, that big body leaning causally against the doorjamb, his eyes calm and steady for someone who’d just had two shots of vodka straight up.
And cynically amused.
“I have a better way of cooling down,” he said.
Yeah. But she didn’t think she could take it. She certainly couldn’t survive it. So she lifted her chin and continued down the hallway, stopping only to reach back for the bucket of ice, which was definitely going with her.
His soft, mocking laugh followed her all the way to the elevator.
Chapter 16
Three words that describe baseball: You never know.
—Joaquin Andujar
Holly went back to her room and, pressing the ice to her hot face, called Allie. “Heading to LA seems more and more appealing every day.”
“Yay for me. To whom do I send a thank-you?”
“No one in particular.”
“Baseball stud,” she guessed. “Ah, honey, is he an ass then?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She blew out a breath. “Truthfully, I think I might be the ass.”
“Well, admitting it is half the battle.”
Holly sank to her hotel bed and laughed. “My damn head isn’t on straight and I can’t find my usual happy place, and you have me laughing.”
“You can’t find your cool, calm happy place because your heart’s involved. It’s about damn time, chica. If I was there, I’d hug him myself for that alone.”
“You’d hug him? He’s driving me crazy and you’d hug him?”
“Yes. Call me when you can admit I’m right.”
Holly closed her phone thinking that would be a cold day in hell. But knowing she needed to, she put on gloss, combed her hair, and went to the one place she’d discovered over the years that she could get an answer to any question she had.
The bar.
Wade was nursing a drink and staring off into space. Except that when she got closer, she could see he wasn’t staring into space at all but onto the dance floor, where Sam was doing some country swing thing with Henry, the both of them handling themselves with surprisingly good moves. “Hey.” Holly smiled at Wade. “You okay?”
Wade tossed back his drink. “Never better.” He gave one last long look at the hands Henry had all over Sam, shook his head, and stood. “I’m hitting the sack. You need anything before I go?”
She’d never seen him anything less than easygoing and laid-back, but what she saw in his eyes now was anything but. There was solemnness that might have stemmed from the Heat’s earlier loss, Pace’s injury, or, as she suspected, Sam doing her damnedest out there to drive him crazy. “I’m good. Wade?” she said as he began to move away. “Get some good sleep.”
With a smile that didn’t quite meet his gaze, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. And with one last look to the dance floor, was gone.
Holly sat next to Ty and bought them each a round. Sam stopped dancing long enough to talk Holly into helping her run the next big charity event for 4 The Kids, their upcoming Third Annual Poker Night, before hitting the dance floor again.
Ty eyed Holly over his beer, a good-looking guy with sweet eyes and a sweeter smile, and the best stats in the relief bullpen. A miracle, when she thought about the childhood leukemia he’d overcome.
“Hope you were gentle on him tonight,” he said, raising his drink to his lips.
“On who?”
“You sleeping with more than one of us then?”
“I’m not sleeping with Pace.”
But she’d wanted to be. Damn stubborn man. So she had a mind of her own and liked to use it. So she’d seen something between him and Red and had dared question him. So she’d . . .
Assumed the worst.
Okay, she’d been wrong there, very wrong, but she’d seen and heard it all in her life, and often from those she’d thought she’d trusted.
But Pace had overreacted. Seriously overreacted. It’d startled her and had also made her wonder . . . why? Why overreact if nothing was going on?
A little smiled curved Ty’s lips. “If you’re not with Pace, maybe there’s another ballplayer on the Heat who can float your boat.”
She cocked her head and studied him with a little smile of her own. “Does that line ever work for you?”
He laughed ruefully. “You’d be surprised.”
She just shook her head.
“Maybe you’d go out with me if I asked.”
“Are you asking, Ty?”
“Would you say yes?”
She laughed. “I think I just discovered why you’re sitting at the bar and the other guys are with women.”
Because he, unlike the others, had sneaked in past her defenses when she wasn’t looking. He’d made himself at home in her heart and was right this very minute power blasting his way back out again, destroying the organ in the process. “Excuse me,” she said stiffly.
Stepping back, he let her go.
She walked down the hotel hallway, her face hot, body hot, everything damn hot, and stopped at the ice machine. Grabbing a spare bucket, she filled it, then lifted the thing and pressed it to her cheek. When that wasn’t enough to cool her jets, she took a piece of ice and ran it over her forehead and then down her neck.
Temper and arousal did not mix well, not with her, and with a sigh, she turned and then went still. Pace stood in the opened doorway of his room, arms crossed, that big body leaning causally against the doorjamb, his eyes calm and steady for someone who’d just had two shots of vodka straight up.
And cynically amused.
“I have a better way of cooling down,” he said.
Yeah. But she didn’t think she could take it. She certainly couldn’t survive it. So she lifted her chin and continued down the hallway, stopping only to reach back for the bucket of ice, which was definitely going with her.
His soft, mocking laugh followed her all the way to the elevator.
Chapter 16
Three words that describe baseball: You never know.
—Joaquin Andujar
Holly went back to her room and, pressing the ice to her hot face, called Allie. “Heading to LA seems more and more appealing every day.”
“Yay for me. To whom do I send a thank-you?”
“No one in particular.”
“Baseball stud,” she guessed. “Ah, honey, is he an ass then?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She blew out a breath. “Truthfully, I think I might be the ass.”
“Well, admitting it is half the battle.”
Holly sank to her hotel bed and laughed. “My damn head isn’t on straight and I can’t find my usual happy place, and you have me laughing.”
“You can’t find your cool, calm happy place because your heart’s involved. It’s about damn time, chica. If I was there, I’d hug him myself for that alone.”
“You’d hug him? He’s driving me crazy and you’d hug him?”
“Yes. Call me when you can admit I’m right.”
Holly closed her phone thinking that would be a cold day in hell. But knowing she needed to, she put on gloss, combed her hair, and went to the one place she’d discovered over the years that she could get an answer to any question she had.
The bar.
Wade was nursing a drink and staring off into space. Except that when she got closer, she could see he wasn’t staring into space at all but onto the dance floor, where Sam was doing some country swing thing with Henry, the both of them handling themselves with surprisingly good moves. “Hey.” Holly smiled at Wade. “You okay?”
Wade tossed back his drink. “Never better.” He gave one last long look at the hands Henry had all over Sam, shook his head, and stood. “I’m hitting the sack. You need anything before I go?”
She’d never seen him anything less than easygoing and laid-back, but what she saw in his eyes now was anything but. There was solemnness that might have stemmed from the Heat’s earlier loss, Pace’s injury, or, as she suspected, Sam doing her damnedest out there to drive him crazy. “I’m good. Wade?” she said as he began to move away. “Get some good sleep.”
With a smile that didn’t quite meet his gaze, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. And with one last look to the dance floor, was gone.
Holly sat next to Ty and bought them each a round. Sam stopped dancing long enough to talk Holly into helping her run the next big charity event for 4 The Kids, their upcoming Third Annual Poker Night, before hitting the dance floor again.
Ty eyed Holly over his beer, a good-looking guy with sweet eyes and a sweeter smile, and the best stats in the relief bullpen. A miracle, when she thought about the childhood leukemia he’d overcome.
“Hope you were gentle on him tonight,” he said, raising his drink to his lips.
“On who?”
“You sleeping with more than one of us then?”
“I’m not sleeping with Pace.”
But she’d wanted to be. Damn stubborn man. So she had a mind of her own and liked to use it. So she’d seen something between him and Red and had dared question him. So she’d . . .
Assumed the worst.
Okay, she’d been wrong there, very wrong, but she’d seen and heard it all in her life, and often from those she’d thought she’d trusted.
But Pace had overreacted. Seriously overreacted. It’d startled her and had also made her wonder . . . why? Why overreact if nothing was going on?
A little smiled curved Ty’s lips. “If you’re not with Pace, maybe there’s another ballplayer on the Heat who can float your boat.”
She cocked her head and studied him with a little smile of her own. “Does that line ever work for you?”
He laughed ruefully. “You’d be surprised.”
She just shook her head.
“Maybe you’d go out with me if I asked.”
“Are you asking, Ty?”
“Would you say yes?”
She laughed. “I think I just discovered why you’re sitting at the bar and the other guys are with women.”
