EIGHT
“YOU’RE OUTTA THERE!”
Gavin tossed the bat in the dirt and headed for the dugout, mentally cussing out the umpire who’d called him out on strikes.
That last ball was low and inside and out of the strike zone.
“That last ball was right in your hitting zone, Riley.”
Gavin lifted his gaze to the Rivers coach, white-haired, heavyset Manny Magee.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get ’em next time, Manny.” Gavin flopped onto the bench.
“Your first game you were hitting them like there was an eight-year-old pitching tennis balls to ya. The past five games you haven’t hit shit. What the hell, Riley?”
Elizabeth had been gone for five days. The last five games he’d totally sucked.
Not that the two were related. At all. Gavin didn’t believe in women and their mojo on players, good or bad.
“I’ll work on my hitting, Manny.”
“You’re damn straight you’re going to work on your hitting. I need to see some lightning out of you, Riley, and soon. Because you suck.”
Great. He needed a hitting nosedive while in the preseason. Not.
“Where’s your good-luck charm?”
“Huh?” Gavin turned to Dedrick. “What good-luck charm?”
“Elizabeth. When she was here, you played good. Shawnelle said she hasn’t been to the past few games, and you’ve sucked. Which makes her your good-luck charm.”
“Oh. She had to head out of town for a few days on business. And she’s not my good-luck charm. I’ve been playing baseball for five years without her help, Deed.”
Dedrick spit sunflower-seed shells onto the ground. “Yuh-huh. That was before you started sleepin’ with her. Now she’s your good-luck charm.”
Gavin rolled his eyes, glad the game was in the ninth inning so he could get away from Dedrick’s knowing looks. He showered, did his media bit, and got the hell out of there, craving the quiet of his house.
There was no correlation between Elizabeth being gone and his shitty hitting streak. He’d just been a little preoccupied since she’d left the other morning, because he figured it was his fault she was gone. And she wasn’t coming back. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed her about Arkansas. The very next morning she’d packed up her things and said she had a client who was going to be drafted into the NFL next month and there was a snag she had to deal with. She said she’d be back as soon as she took care of it.
He knew it was more than that.
Even worse, he missed her, which made him feel all kinds of stupid, because he wasn’t supposed to miss her. They’d only been together a few days. No big deal, right?
So why did he miss her? He had games almost every day, followed by meetings and practice and media bullshit to keep him busy.
But the nights he spent on the deck looking out over the ocean were lonely. Like tonight. He leaned against the railing and listened to the give and take of the sea in the darkness. It used to fill him with peace.
Now it was a lonely sound.
And goddamn it, it had never been lonely before. In a couple days he’d gotten used to having Elizabeth around.
Time to get over that. What he needed to do was find a woman, go have a few drinks and some fun. He’d forget about her as soon as he slid his dick into some willing female. And his batting would likely improve, too.
He went inside, laid his drink on the counter and picked up his phone, stared at it for a few minutes, then put it back on the counter.
Shit. He didn’t want to go out with some boring chick who didn’t challenge him.
Elizabeth was a pain in the ass. Mouthy. Opinionated. Obstinate.
But she challenged him.
His phone rang and he swept it up off the counter.
Elizabeth.
“Hey,” he said as soon as he pressed the button.
“Hey, yourself. You home?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’ll be pulling into your driveway in about ten minutes.”
He hung up and ignored the rush. So, she was back. She was coming back to him, to his house, just like she said she would.
Dude, you gotta be careful
. Wasn’t this his game to play? Because it sure seemed as if she’d played him. Had she run off because he’d gotten too close, because he wanted too much information?
He fixed himself another drink and picked up the place since he’d been mainly tossing clothes all over for the past five days. By the time Elizabeth came to the door, the house looked sort of presentable again. He went out and grabbed her suitcase from the trunk of her car. She smiled at him.
“I could have dragged that in.”
He rolled it and talked to her as they walked to the front door. “Then what good would I be?”
She grinned at him. “I can think of ways you can be useful.”
He grinned back at her. “How was the trip?”
She shrugged out of her suit jacket and folded it over the back of the sofa. “Exhausting. Exhilarating. Negotiations are fun but nerveracking, especially since it’s the draft. You don’t really know if a team is going to commit to a player or not, so everything you’re talking about has to be couched very carefully so you don’t blow it.”
He handed her a glass of wine and sat next to her on the sofa. “Who was the client?”
She arched a brow. “Blane McReynolds. Offensive lineman out of Indiana. Promising future and great talent. We’re pretty certain Tampa Bay is going to draft him. Why?”
“Just curious about which young hotshot you signed.”
She kicked her high heels off and propped her feet on the table in front of the sofa. “Honey, I’m always signing a hotshot or two. Have to keep the young blood rolling in for when the old timers aren’t any good to me anymore.”
“You’re so devoted to your clients.”
She batted her lashes. “Always. Anyway, we’re pretty secure about Tampa Bay, and they have the second pick in the draft. Their offensive line is shit, and they need to build with strong talent, especially at offensive tackle, which means they’re looking hard at Blane. He’s pretty thrilled about that, but you never know. Teams change their minds. Nothing’s for certain. The poor kid is a basket case. He’s worked his whole life for this.” She turned to him. “You remember what it’s like.”
“Yeah, I do. And you did a great job for me.”
Her lips lifted. “Thanks. I was practically a rookie myself back then.”
“Didn’t seem that way to me. You went in there balls to the wall and didn’t take no for an answer.”
She laughed. “I didn’t even know what I didn’t know back then. With you or with Mick. God, I was fearless.”
“You still are.”
She kept her gaze on his. “Thank you, Gavin. A little shot of confidence is welcome. I needed that.”
So maybe she had been gone for a reason. And maybe she wasn’t playing games with him. “You got a backup team for this kid?”
She grinned, and he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Yes. Two, in fact, are interested in Blane. Both with first-round picks, but they could go another direction, too.” She scrunched her shoulders, then took a long swallow of wine. “This stuff makes my head hurt.”
“Turn around.”
“Why?”
“I’ll rub some of the tension away.”
She gave him a wicked smile. “Now that sounds good.”
She turned and presented her back to him. He started off light, using his thumbs on the muscles, which were definitely hard as rock. His fingers kept slipping on her silk blouse.
“Take your blouse off so I can get to your skin.”
She pulled the blouse out of the waistband of her suit, then drew it over her head. Gavin sat back and admired the muscles of her back as she moved, the way the hairs on the back of her neck curled. He bent and pressed a kiss there.
“Mmmm, that might be more relaxing than the shoulder rub.”
“You say that now because I haven’t really started rubbing your shoulders yet. I’m a master at it.”
She gave him a look over her shoulder. “That experienced at it, are you?”
He brushed his lips across hers, then turned her head to face forward. “That good at it. Just relax and drop your head forward and let me perform my magic.”
She giggled but dipped her head toward her chest, and Gavin went to work, starting easy at first, then when her body became more pliant, he began to dig into the muscles. Elizabeth moaned, and he felt the muscles melt under his fingers.
“Oh, God, you are good at that. You must have women melting at your feet.”
He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever massaged a woman before.”
She lifted her head and half turned. “Really? You’re lying.”
“No. I just pay attention to the trainers and what they do to me when my muscles tighten up. Figured it would work the same for you.”
“Huh. You surprise me, Gavin.”
“Yeah? In what way?”
She turned her back to him again and shrugged. “In a lot of ways.”
“Wanna give me a list?”
“No. Your ego is inflated enough.”
He pressed in on her muscles again, sliding his thumbs into the nape of her neck. “Now that hurts my feelings.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”
She laughed, then went quiet as he slid his fingers up into her hair, pulling the barrette and pins out and shaking it loose.
“Why don’t you wear your hair down?”
“It gets in my way. Up is more professional.”
He sifted his fingers through the softness of her hair, lifted the strands to his nose. She smelled like flowers. “Down is sexy.”
“I don’t need to be sexy to negotiate a contract.”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
She laughed. “I need to be taken seriously, Gavin.”
“Oh, come on, Elizabeth. You use your sexuality like a negotiating point.”
She flipped around to face him. “Are you kidding me? That’s what you think?”
“Yeah.”
She narrowed her gaze and backed away. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
“Don’t be offended. I don’t mean that you’re, like, trading sexual favors or anything. I mean, you’re a beautiful woman. You dress professionally, but you can’t hide your sexuality. It’s just . . . there. But no, you don’t show off like a sex bomb or anything.”
“I have no idea what you mean, then. I don’t offer sexual favors to gain a client or to get a client a good offer.”
“I didn’t say that. But you give off sexual vibes. It’s a natural thing for you to flirt. And you can’t deny that you’re one of only a few women in your field. You use being a beautiful woman to your advantage. You capture men’s attention because of your beauty and your presence. There’s nothing wrong with that. I never meant that you used sex.”
“Oh. I see what you mean. Well, of course I use it to my advantage. It’s a marketing tool, and especially in the beginning I needed every advantage I could to get me in the door. Now my reputation gets me there because I’m damn good at what I do. And if your brother didn’t realize that, then it’s his loss.”
Gavin raised his hands. “Whoa. How did the topic get turned to Mick?”
She stood, grabbed her blouse. “I don’t know. I’m tired. It’s been a rough few days. I’m going to take a shower.”
She headed off toward the bedroom. Gavin grabbed his drink and took a long swallow.
Okay, his back rub obviously hadn’t worked on her. He wondered what the hell had gone wrong the past five days to make her so upset?
ELIZABETH LET THE HOT WATER RAIN DOWN OVER HER head, hoping it would erase the past five days from her memory.
The Blane contract was going well, but that was the only positive to the trip. Steve Lincoln was dropping her. A Pro Bowl–caliber player and a free agent, he’d just signed with the Davis Agency, one of her top competitors.
Steve Lincoln was also a very good friend of Mick’s, and it was a known fact Mick wanted Lincoln—a stellar fullback—to play for San Francisco, Mick’s team.
And it was also becoming well known that Mick had fired Elizabeth.
And suddenly Steve fired Elizabeth.
Pretty easy to put two and two together and figure out who was behind Steve’s sudden change in agents. Mick was out to ruin her.
She wasn’t going to let it happen. And she wasn’t going to let Gavin know about it.
Unless Gavin already knew.
Was that why he’d invited her to stay with him, so he could keep an eye on her while Mick did his behind-the-scenes damage? Maybe Gavin was talking to her baseball clients, too. He knew who all her clients were. Maybe it was a team effort between the two of them, and Gavin was fucking her senseless to keep her off balance.
Paranoid much, Liz?
It was a ridiculous idea.
Then again, she refused to discount anything. This was her livelihood, and she’d do whatever it took to save it. She’d worked too damn hard to build her business—her very name. Her personal feelings for Gavin aside, she wouldn’t let anyone ruin her. She might have invested her heart in Gavin, but she’d stomp all over her own heart in order to save her business.
She grabbed the body wash and scrubbed until she was pink, then rinsed her hair and got out of the shower, dried off and tossed on a cotton sundress, combed her hair out and decided not to bother with drying it. She was exhausted.
She slipped on a pair of flip-flops and went in search of Gavin. He was out on the deck. The cool breeze coming off the water coupled with her wet hair made her skin break out in chills.
“Hey.” Gavin rose from the chair when she came outside. “Your hair’s wet.”
“I’m too tired to dry it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He went inside. She shrugged and slunk into the swing, pulled her feet up and stared out into the darkness.
Gavin came back a minute later with a blanket. He’d turned the lights out inside, making it even darker outside. There wasn’t a moon tonight, so there was no light casting over the water. Just the sound of the ocean and her own black thoughts.
Gavin put the soft blanket over her and sat in the swing with her.
“Thanks.”
“It’s cold out here and your hair’s wet. Wanna go inside?”
“No. I like it out here.”
“Me, too.” He put his arm around her, and they sat there swinging and listening to the ocean, both of them quiet.