Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances (27 page)

“You did?” he asks and I can hear disappointment in his voice. I start to panic, thoughts racing through my mind faster than I can catch them.
I wasn’t quick enough; he got another realtor. I hung up on him last night and scared him off. Who wants to deal with a woman and her emotional dra—

“That’s great, Mia, but I won’t be able to come out for another week.” His voice sounds different than normal, like he’s holding something back. Either way, relief washes over me.

“That’s fine, I’ll send you links to look at and if you’re interested we’ll go from there.”

“Perfect,” he says and I can hear his smile through the phone. “Mia…I can’t wait to see you.”

My heart races. “Me too,” I reply then add softly, not sure he can even hear me, “Hurry.”

On the deck, Anika is flailing her arms over her head while George pulls at his hair. With a smile, I join the happy couple and inform them, “Sorry but this house is already spoken for. Shall we go take a peek at the next one on the list?”

Tate

Up, down, up, down. My body moves on and off the plyometrics box. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a group of women staring and whispering with goofy smiles on their faces. This is why I hate working out at the gym. Since my contract is over, I can’t work out with the Minutemen anymore so its public gyms for me. I hate the attention.

After another set of box jumps, I wipe the sweat out of my eyes. Now that my workout is over, I’m forced to face the gaggle of drooling women. My t-shirt with the sides cut out and my basketball shorts are soaked so I have no clue how these women can be remotely attracted to me. As I get closer and see a cougar licking her lips, it’s obvious something’s got her hot and bothered.

“Tate James, I’m your biggest fan,” she says in a low, sultry voice.

Seriously? That’s one of the lamest pick-up lines, I hear it all the time. Can’t these horny women come up with something more original? I nod my thanks and try to keep walking, but like a real cougar, she moves quickly and blocks my path.

“I hope L.A. treats you well. I’d love to give you a goodbye gift,” she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows and I seriously think I threw up a little in my mouth. The woman is almost old enough to be my mother!

With a curt smile, I slide around her and pick up the pace to the locker room. Once I’m safely inside, I strip down and step into the shower. The water cascades over my skin. I close my eyes and picture Mia the way I saw her last night. She’d let her guard down in sending the photo, a soft smile in her eyes, that tight tank top and boy shorts,
mmm
…

My phone buzzes from the bench, pulling me out of my Mia-induced fog. I quickly finish up my shower. Hot and bothered in a men’s locker room is not what I want. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I walk over to my clothes and read the text.

Hey buddy, in Milwaukee tonight. Wanna get a drink?

It’s my old college buddy who gave me Mia’s name. I text back yes and he tells me where to meet him. Perfect timing, this will be a good opportunity to get some more information about Amelia Tomko.

CHAPTER 6

Tate

“Tate James! Good to see you, buddy,” my old college teammate says to me with a clap on my back.

“Hey Tommy, good to see you, too,” I say, shaking his hand.

In the upscale bar on top of one of the skyscrapers in Milwaukee, Tommy orders us both dry martinis with three olives. Definitely not my drink or my fruit… or vegetable either, but this is also not my kind of place. In the five years that I’ve lived in this city, I never even knew this bar existed.

The bartender sets the drinks in front of us and Tommy glances around the room. He makes no effort to hide the fact that he’s checking out every woman in this place. With raised eyebrows, he turns to me. “Expensive drinks and expensive women, two of my favorite things.”

I laugh and take a gulp of my martini, finishing it quickly and ordering a beer. “I thought you were married?”

Tommy shrugs as he flirts with a woman sitting at a table with another man but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah, well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

I shake my head. This is exactly why I never wanted to get married. Too many secrets. Tommy finally turns back to me and we make small talk catching up on life post-Loyola where we played ball together.

“Yeah, the guys aren’t the same as when we were there. Did you hear about Jace Richards and the scheme he was running?” Tommy asks me.

How could I not? It was all over the news, it was a modern-day Pete Rose scandal. The pitcher for the Diplomats was gambling against his own team and throwing games. It disgraced not only the MLB but also our alma mater.

After discussing the scandal, I change the subject. “Hey, thanks for Mia, uh I mean Amelia’s number. Things are working out well with her.”

“Glad to hear it. Amelia is good at what she does.”

I nod and swallow, trying to figure out how to approach what I want to know. “So what do you know about her?”

Tommy raises his eyebrow briefly before answering. “Stanford graduate, workaholic, and legs that go on forever.”

I join him in laughter at the last part of his comment, still wanting to ask if he knows about her dating history and maybe even that asshole business partner of hers. A long red fingernail lands on Tommy’s arm. We both look back and see the woman he was making eyes with earlier. She leans over and whispers in Tommy’s ear, making him smile. Kissing his neck, she straightens up, gives him a wink, and heads for the door.

Tommy looks at me. “Hey man, it was good to talk but um…something’s come up,” he says with a grin. “Let’s get together in L.A.”

“Sure, sounds good,” I say, but Tommy is already chasing the tease out the door.

Looking at my phone, I see Mia’s emailed me the link to the house. Without opening it, I text back and tell her to put in a contract. I pay my tab, but instead of heading home, I take the cab to the airport.

***

My great idea to try to catch an earlier flight backfired. Instead of arriving in L.A. sooner than scheduled, the flight got detoured to Portland because of mechanical issues. I was supposed to arrive at noon and it’s now almost rush hour.

“Is there a different route you can take?” I ask the cabby, who glares at me from the front seat. I hold my hands up and sigh as I press my forehead against the window. This is what happens when you think with your heart, not your head.
Whoa, did I just really think that?
My heart is not involved in this relationship… yet.

A half-hour later and we pull up in front of the house I helped Mia paint. Honestly, I don’t know anywhere else to look for her. I have no idea where she lives or works so this is just a wild idea. I see her sleek Corvette in the driveway and grin.

Quickly paying the driver, I jump out of the car and run to the door. I can’t wait to get my lips on hers and pick up where we left off last time. Opening the door, I don’t see anyone in the living room. I move slowly throughout the house and then hear movement in the bathroom.
A-ha, my Mia!
Stop, Tate, she’s not your anything other than realtor.

In the doorway, I clear my throat when I see the brunette standing before me in a pair of flared black suit pants and a sheer fuchsia blouse with a matching camisole underneath. This woman is sexy no matter what she wears.

Mia slowly turns around and I see relief wash over her face as she lunges for me and wraps her arms around my neck. She squeezes me tightly, taking me by surprise. I slide my arms around her waist and pull her to me, returning the embrace. This isn’t exactly how I’d pictured our reunion, but I’m holding her right now and that’s more than enough.

Whispering in my ear, I hear her sweet voice. “Tate, I’m so glad it’s you.”

Confused by her statement, I pull back so I can look her in the eyes, but I don’t dare let go of her. My eyes go wide and I move my finger to her cheek where a large bruise is starting to appear. My blood pressure sky rockets. I swear if someone hurt her, I will hunt them down and give it to them tenfold.

“Mia, what the hell happened? Are you okay?”

With tears in her eyes, she shakes her head and lets out a fake laugh. “I’m fine. Really…just clumsy.”

I hear her words but I can tell she’s lying. My vision is blurred from anger, but I try to push it away so I can take care of her. I pull her against me again and kiss her forehead. Taking her hand, I lead her to the kitchen and have her take a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar. It takes some searching but I find a towel. Luckily, the ice maker still works so I pull a few cubes out and place them inside the material. Sitting beside her, I gently press the makeshift ice pack to her cheek.

“Ow…” she mutters with a grimace.

I frown but don’t move the ice off her cheek. She closes her eyes and I place my other hand on her thigh, rubbing it slightly.

“Thank you,” she says softly and opens her eyes, giving me a smile.

I nod but don’t return the gesture. “Mia,” I swallow before I ask, “did someone hit you?”

She hesitates briefly but then gives a quick laugh as she pats my hand that rests on her leg. “No, don’t be silly! I dropped my keys and when I bent over to pick them up, I saw a mouse. Like a scared little girl, I jumped back and turned right into the corner of the cabinet. I was just relieved to see you and not the giant mouse.”

I frown, still not sure whether to believe the story. Before I can respond, she leans forward pushing away the ice pack and her lips capture mine. She parts my lips with her tongue and I moan into her mouth. Setting the ice on the counter, I run my fingers through her silky hair, pulling her to me for a deeper kiss. My hand on her thigh gives it a slight squeeze and inches further north.

Stopping my hand with hers, she pulls away and grins. “And I’m feeling much better now,” she says with a smirk.

Finally returning the smile, I lean my forehead against hers. “Glad to hear that.” I kiss her once more and add, “Mia, I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

I watch her swallow but she keeps the smile on her face. “Tate James, you’re a drama queen!” She laughs as if to convince me, but something tells me it wasn’t a cabinet that marred her.

Mia

Tate cautiously joins my laughter. I don’t blame him for being suspicious. This is one hell of a black eye that a “cabinet” gave me. Although we haven’t known each other long, I believe Tate when he tells me he’ll never let anyone hurt me. But I have to face my demons first before I can let him in on the truth. Looking around the kitchen, I see a small red spot on the wall behind him. I need to get out of here before Tate sees it and pushes for more information.

“I bet you’re starved. Let’s grab some sushi and then I’ll take you over to your house.”

Tate turns up his nose in a disgusted fashion. “Sushi? No thank you.”

Laughing, I tug on his hand making him stand up with me. “You’re in California now. You’re going to have to learn to love sushi.”

He frowns while nodding. “Okay, but what about…” He gestures toward my eye.

Giving him a quick peck, I turn to head to the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready.” I stop at the doorframe and turn around. With a wink, I add, “I’ll even let you drive.”

Tate flashes a large grin and I know I’ve bought some time. In the bathroom, I cake on the make-up. My ex got back from a business trip and insisted I meet him here for one final walk-through before we put it on the market tomorrow. I could tell he was frustrated when he arrived, I just assumed he hadn’t found a good road lay like he normally does. When he tried to kiss me and I refused, he backhanded me across the face. This wasn’t the first time he’d done it, but it’d been a long time since it’d happened last. I sigh, I thought the divorce meant this was over, but apparently I was wrong.

Five minutes later, I walk outside where Tate is admiring my Corvette. When I laugh, he looks up and I toss him the keys. His eyes get big like a kid in the candy store until he looks at me. Jutting my hip to the side, I say, “It’s either this or let people think you hit me.”

My stomach drops just saying that. I hope Tate would never hit me because I’ve already endured that long enough in my past relationship. I say it in hopes that being blunt will wash away any doubts he might have.

“Mia, don’t say that,” he says in a serious tone. He steps in the car and shuts his door.

I try to blink back tears. I’m messing this up without even trying and that’s the last thing I want to do.
Whoa, where did that come from?
I barely know this man so why am I even thinking this way. Suddenly, I realize that he hasn’t started the car yet. I look over and see him grasping the steering wheel. I slide in the passenger side and with a light touch on his leg, I whisper sorry.