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The Heat of the Moment
  • Текст добавлен: 5 октября 2016, 21:20

Текст книги "The Heat of the Moment"


Автор книги: Katie Rose



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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 15 страниц)






Chapter 10

The Jeep was perfect. Gavin opened one of the windows, letting the cold New Jersey air fill the vehicle. Glancing down at the odometer, he saw that it barely registered ten miles, and the ride was exactly as he remembered: bouncy, solid, fun.

The interior had all of the upgrades, including the radio. As he explored the Sirius stations, he saw that once again Jessica was right. There was a channel dedicated to music from the sixties, seventies, eighties, and nineties. He tried one after another, hearing tunes from decades ago, and just having a blast.

Why had he been putting this off? As he pulled into the ballpark, he thought about his conversation with Jessica, and her reaction when he told her he didn’t want to accept this move: she had blatantly called him ridiculous. He’d had to laugh at that, but she was right. He had wasted too many hours feeling sorry for himself.

She’d seen that, and in her usual frank style, motivated him into action. Even when he had told her about Kristin, she hadn’t drowned him in pity, but encouraged him to move on. She was like a breath of fresh air.

And then that kiss…

That thought made him frown as his mind returned to what had happened between them. He had intended just to hug her, to share his joyful enthusiasm, his excitement, the first flood of good feelings he’d had in a long time. But something had changed when he had her in his arms and looked into those twinkling green eyes, and saw that sexy mouth just begging for his. And then…

The simmering fire between them had simply blazed out of control. As he turned off the ignition, he wondered at that, how things had gotten from point A to point Z within minutes. His body was still aroused from the brief encounter, and he knew one thing was certain:

He and Jessica would be incredible in bed.

So they were physically attracted to each other. It happened all the time, and fortunately, she wasn’t making a big deal out of it. He ignored the flicker of irritation he felt at that, wondering if she was sleeping with another guy. He shook his head, not wanting to explore those feelings.

But what he felt with Jess was…different from anything he’d ever experienced before. And it was something he couldn’t afford to lose. He could be himself with her. He didn’t have to pretend, to act the big sports star just to keep her interested. Maybe because she was from a family of jocks, she wasn’t at all impressed by his stats. And maybe it was more than that…

Then he reminded himself that not only was she his therapist, she was his first real friend in New Jersey. He didn’t want to screw that up, either.

She pulled into the space beside him and got out of her car. He braced himself, mentally preparing for any of a number of reactions she might have to him once she’d had time to think.

“Okay, let’s give the rental place a call and get rid of the soccer-mom ride,” she said, shooting an amused glance at the Chrysler. “If they can’t pick it up tonight, we can make arrangements to drop it tomorrow. In the meantime,” she said, her eyes dropping to his leg, “how is it feeling?”

Relief flooded through him. Everything was the same as before. Except for the awareness…

He focused on putting his weight on the left side of his body, testing the knee.

“It’s okay,” he said, surprised to find out it was true. The throbbing was gone, and so was the stabbing discomfort.

“Good. I’d say you’re done for today. Let’s make that phone call and get the hell out of here. I’m starved.”

He called Enterprise and left a message. As she started to return to her car, he stopped her.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere for dinner? There’s a place near me in town that I’ve been wanting to check out.”

Jessica cocked her head to one side and gave him the stink-eye. “I don’t think so, pal.”

“Oh, come on. Just because of one little kiss?”

One little “please fuck me” kiss?

“It’s just a dinner,” he persisted. “I don’t know anyone in town other than the guys on the team, and they’re all at the game. I feel like celebrating. And I owe you one after today.”

When she continued to look at him speculatively, as if skewering a frog for a science experiment, he shrugged. “What are you worried about? You said you wouldn’t have a problem resisting me if I got out of line.”

He had to hide a smile. Jessica was the kind of girl who couldn’t turn down a dare, and that’s exactly what he’d given her.

She laughed. He got her. “Tell you what. Let’s grab a cheesesteak and a couple of beers on the way out. I’ve got some things to do at home tonight. Work for you?”

“Sure.” He knew the rest of that thought: She’d wait until he’d proven himself. He couldn’t blame her; he’d made a move on her and she was going to be cautious for a while.

But he wasn’t ready to let her go. He didn’t want to go back to his townhouse alone, with a bag full of takeout and the TV for company. He wanted to hear her voice, trade barbs with her, and just enjoy being around her for a few more hours. It was selfish and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it.

As they walked through the First Base Gate, another explanation occurred.

Maybe it wasn’t him she was worried about.

He immediately dismissed the notion as conceit, but then he recalled an interesting detail:

Jessica Hart had kissed him back.

The explosion wouldn’t have happened if it had been one-sided. No, it was her response that had driven him crazy, the heat that was generated between them, the feel of her torso fitting perfectly against his and doing that little wiggle of desire. It had taken every ounce of restraint to let her go and not do as his body demanded, drive her to the nearest motel, strip off those yoga pants and make her his own. Thankfully, his brain kicked in just in time.

“There’s the stand.” She gestured toward the food court, where a delicious scent of fried onions wafted through the air.

“I’ll grab a couple of sandwiches. Why don’t you get us a table?”

She went off to find them a dining space, and he discovered he could breathe again.

For now.

He wasn’t sure about the sandwiches: slabs of fried steak smothered in cheese and onions, all on a toasted roll. But that was what Jessica wanted, and he was determined to get back into her good graces. Glancing at the beer tap, he was surprised to see they had a few decent choices, including one called Exit 4. That had to be a reference to all of the New Jersey jokes about the turnpike, the artery that ran directly through the center of the state. He ordered two of those as well, and then returned to the picnic area.

He found her seated at a metal table, fully prepared with plastic utensils, napkins, and water. He had to smile at that; she always appeared the model of efficiency.

“God, that looks great.” Her eyes closed, and the copper lashes turned up at the corner as she inhaled the scent of the cheesesteak. “I haven’t had one of these in ages.”

“Looks like a heart attack on a plate,” he said with a grin, and then handed her a beer. “They actually had a half-decent selection. I think this one is Flying Fish’s Exit 4.”

“New Jersey does love its brewskies,” she said, taking a deep sip. “This is named for the Mount Laurel exit off the turnpike. That’s how you tell someone where in New Jersey you live.”

“Thought it was something like that. LA has some interesting beers too, but the industry’s a little younger there. Being so close to wine country, it’s taken a little longer to generate the interest in craft beers.”

He took a bite of his sandwich, and his eyes widened with surprise as she laughed. “Not bad, right?”

“It’s really good. I know now why we don’t have these in California, the land of healthy.”

“Yep, no such thing as an avocado-and-bean-sprout cheesesteak. It must’ve been cool to grow up there, though, the weather always good, Beverly Hills, movie stars. I can’t imagine.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the reason I got involved in baseball. It doesn’t rain much, and doesn’t get cold, so there are lots of opportunities to play. My father was in the minors, and really had a big influence on me that way.”

“Sounds like pressure,” she said between mouthfuls of meat. “I’ve been to a ton of Little League games. Some of the parents are tough.”

He was surprised by her insight. “It was. Like most kids, I wanted to please him. Thankfully, I was good at the game, and could hit. I got offered a scholarship in high school, and the rest, they say, is history.”

“Did your dad go to the games, watch you play?”

“Yeah. It was hard later, when he would critique my performance, but I learned to take what was helpful and to scrap the rest.”

Until she asked, he had almost forgotten how painful that was, how much of a failure he felt on the days he didn’t do well. His mother would stick up for him, tell his father to stop, but there was only so much she could do and he wasn’t about to hide behind her.

When he got injured, his first thought was that his father would be upset that he wasn’t playing. He didn’t consider how screwed up that was until now.

Taking another bite of the sandwich, he saw that Jessica was practically finished, and she was drinking down the suds. Gavin hid a grin. Apparently she was not self-conscious about enjoying her food, made no pretense of picking at it or sipping daintily at her beer. That, too, he found refreshing, as well as her genuine interest in him. Though they’d vowed to be friends, idly he wondered if she had ever been in love.

“So do you have a boyfriend?” He had to ask. Her face flew up and he shrugged innocently. “Just wondering.”

“No.”

He was relieved at her answer, and at the same time curious. “Ever? C’mon. A girl as pretty as you?”

She rolled her eyes as if he were joking. “I dated in college, of course. But wasn’t involved seriously until after. And in case you’re wondering about that too, it didn’t go well.”

“What happened?”

She looked directly at him and leveled him with her eyes. “He’s a baseball player.”

She didn’t say anything else; she didn’t have to. But he saw the pain in her expression, the disappointment, and the regret. He had a strange impulse to beat the hell out of the jerk who hurt her, and his hand actually fisted.

It was one thing about the sports world that he found hard to take sometimes. While he understood that temptation was everywhere, that some girls would do anything to get a player’s attention, it was the attitude of some of his teammates that annoyed him. Their massive egos demanded that they take advantage of what was offered, to use women to satisfy their own needs and then just toss them away. To make a relationship work with a ballplayer was a considerable undertaking, unless he was mature, and a decent guy.

“I’m not going to ask who he is,” he said slowly, aware that this was a sensitive topic. “But if you want to tell me, I can’t promise I won’t accidentally hit him with a line drive when I’m back in the game.”

Her laughter was warm and genuine. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I’d rather not say. You probably know him, and he’s here next week for interleague play.”

His mind ran quickly over the roster for Cleveland. He couldn’t think of anyone he could see her with, and then realized he didn’t want to. Disturbed at his thoughts, he was relieved when she continued a moment later.

“Do you believe my brother Rory asked me if I wanted to get away, crash at his place a few days?”

“And?” He didn’t say it, but it had to be bad for her brother to make her an offer like that.

“I can’t run away from him all the time. I’m a sports therapist with a team, and our paths are bound to cross. We went out for about six months last year, and I am totally over it. Besides…” She looked up at him with a smile, but it didn’t translate to her eyes. “Once you’re back, I’m counting on the Sonics to kick their ass.”

“No problem,” he said, returning the smile. But he wanted to pull her into his arms, take away the hurt, and make it all okay. Wanted to erase that glimpse of sadness, replace it with the expression he’d seen earlier when he kissed her.

“We’d better go,” she said a moment later, reaching for the foil wrappers to toss them in the trash.

As they got up from the table, he felt a sense of loss; they had briefly connected and now the connection was gone. But she was right. They had an early start the next morning, and she had things to do. For a moment, he thought of how great it would be if she were coming home with him, curling up beside him on the couch as they watched the game…

When they got to the parking lot, she turned to look at him, her hands thrust inside her pockets at the chill.

“I’m going to ask one of the assistants to work with you for a week or two.” When his brows lifted, she gave him a grin. “No, it has nothing to do with that. It’s just too risky to go back to our routine until the swelling goes down. Besides,” she said teasingly, “we can’t go shopping every day. You’d go broke.”

He nodded, but insisted on getting the door for her. “You’re sure it’s not because…”

“Yep. I’ll be there. But it just makes more sense to wait a week or so to go back to the program. Our assistant can work with you on some gentle movements.”

He didn’t quite believe her, but he couldn’t call her out on it, either. After all, it was his own fault he was in this situation, all the way around. Instead, he waited until she had driven off before starting the Jeep.

Jessica Hart was obviously looking to put some distance between them.

And that was more telling than if she’d done nothing at all.







Chapter 11

She was glad to get home and close the door behind her, after giving her neighbor Terrell a little finger wave and shaking her head at his questioning glance. Even though he was technically her best friend and they spoke almost every day, she wasn’t up for company.

Leaning against the wall for a moment, she felt the firmness of the support against her back as she sagged in the hallway, mentally and emotionally spent.

Gavin.

Try as she might, she couldn’t erase the memory of that kiss, and now alone, it was front and center. The beer and the cheesesteak rumbled in her belly, but that was nothing compared to the emotions that roiled inside her.

She wanted him. Wanted him in a way she had never wanted a man before. Wanted him not just as a friend, but a lover.

Wanted the sex.

Not the wine-and-roses kind, either. The wild kind of red-haze, black-panties, bend-me-over-a-pillow-and-pound-me-into-oblivion sex.

Wincing as the mental picture formed, she tossed her keys on the granite countertop and began pacing the kitchen. Gavin could take her to places she’d never even dreamed; she knew it now. There was too much chemistry between them, way too much heat.

And she was perplexed by what was happening to her.

In the past, she’d viewed sex pretty much the way she did sports. Something that was good for her, physical, providing release in more ways than one. She slept better afterward, had a little spring in her step the next day, felt prettier and more feminine.

But it wasn’t like this, an erotic promise that could change you, make you experiment, do the things that wild women did.

She paced some more.

The best part was, she liked him. Gavin was a decent guy, and after being around ballplayers day in and day out, she knew the difference. He wasn’t a dog just looking to satisfy his ego.

Yet she could tell from that kiss he wanted her as badly as she did him.

The worst part was, she liked him. Liked him enough not to destroy the trust that was necessary between a therapist and client. And enough that she knew she could help him and didn’t want to turn him over to someone else. But more than that, they were now friends. She didn’t want to have her feelings for him change and eventually become what they were for Zach.

When she fantasized about her ex, he was falling-face first into a garbage truck.

She couldn’t take the risk. Almost certainly, this would turn out the same way or worse. Right now, Gavin was spending a lot of time with her because he had to. He was in rehab, on the disabled list, and she was there to help him. And he probably wasn’t over that girl, what was her name? Kristin? All of these athletes looked for the same type: the Victoria’s Secret model that they could hang on their arm to be the envy of every other guy.

That wasn’t her. She wasn’t a blonde but a redhead, and there was barely an inch on her athletic body that didn’t contain a freckle. She preferred yoga pants to dresses, physical activity to feminine pursuits. She didn’t care for spas; she grew impatient with facials and treatments unless they were sports massage. Manicures required way too much maintenance, although she did indulge in a pedicure at the beginning of summer; but even then she insisted on the quickie version, not the salt scrubs and lotions that took forever.

The frustration inside her was tighter than a violin string, and she didn’t know what to do for relief. Sure, she could bring herself to orgasm and get that out of the picture, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. It was too much about Gavin, and what they would be together.

Luckily, her assistant would work with him over the next week or so. Gavin was half right to be suspicious that she had decided this because of what had happened between them, but he didn’t know the rest. It was more about getting her own urges back into perspective.

As she went into the bedroom, tugged on a tee shirt, and undid her hair, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Gavin had called her pretty. It had been a long time since she’d seen that look in a man’s eyes and felt that little feminine thrill. From the humidity, her hair was a million copper curls in the evening light, and her turned-up nose wrinkled back at her, scrunching her freckles. To herself, she appeared ordinary, yet Gavin King, who could have any woman he wanted, thought she was attractive.

Damn.

“I’m Lisa. Jessica wants you to do a couple of these today until your knee settles down.”

Gavin saw Jessica’s assistant approach, clipboard in hand. She smiled tentatively, indicating the workout instructions.

He nodded, not surprised. Jessica had prepared him for this. But he glanced around the therapy room and saw that she wasn’t there at all. Idly he wondered if she was walking without him.

He let the young woman put the warming pad on his leg, his annoyance building. While the exercises he was permitted to do might help his knee, he was afraid the rest of his muscles were losing their tone. When Lisa removed the pad, he began the subtle movements, bored out of his mind, but then the weights lined up against the wall caught his attention.

“Lisa?” When she returned to his side, he nodded toward the wall. “Can you bring me a couple of the thirty-pound dumbbells?”

“But you’re only supposed to do what’s on the page—” She looked scared, as if someone would hold her personally responsible.

“As long as I do these seated, it won’t put any additional pressure on my knee. Don’t worry—if Jess has an issue with it, I’ll make sure she knows it was my idea.”

She still appeared uncertain, but then Phil entered the room and glanced over at them. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah. I just asked for a couple of weights. Figured while I’m sitting here I can at least tone up my arms.”

“That should be okay,” he said to Lisa, who looked more than a little relieved. She brought him the weights, and he began the reps.

It felt good to hold the heavy iron in his hand, his biceps working to lift the dumbbell. It made him feel stronger, more capable, more of a man. And it was reassuring to find that the exercise came easily to him. While he had been pumping much more weight in the past, he wanted to get a sense of his body’s reaction, and he liked what he felt.

He went from curls to hammerheads, changing the position of the dumbbells. His muscles were beginning to become fatigued, so he rested for a few minutes before starting again. He did sequential repetitions, stopping just before he got overly tired, and then focused again.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her enter the room. He had been about to stop, but now for some absurd reason he wanted to show off for Jessica, prove that in spite of his injury he was still a tough guy. She glanced his way and he pumped even harder, sculpting his biceps. When she approached, he lowered the weight and looked at her innocently.

“So my little routine wasn’t enough?” She grinned at him, and he saw her eyes twinkle.

“Just thought I’d work my upper body a little bit. Not a problem, right?”

“Nope, as long as you keep off that leg.” But she deftly replaced the thirty-pound weights with twenties before shifting to a squat. “How’s it looking?”

She bent over him, unwrapping the knee to check its condition. “Good,” he said. “I think most of the swelling went down. It’s pretty much back to normal.”

“It still seems a little bit puffy, but you’re right. Looks like you’re on track. No heat or anything, right?”

She touched his knee. He knew what she was asking, whether or not there was any inflammation. But there was heat all right. He swallowed hard, affected by her closeness, by the surprisingly soft caress of her hand. It took him a minute to answer her.

“No, no problem at all.”

“Good. I’ll catch up with you later.”

She walked away, and he had a good glimpse of the rear view, something with her he always enjoyed. When his eyes lifted, he saw Phil giving him an understanding smile. Was he that transparent?

If so, he didn’t want her to catch on and maybe permanently transfer his case to someone else. So he went back to pumping iron, grateful to have something physical to do. It wasn’t until she disappeared into her office that he finally lowered the weights and allowed her assistant to ice him.

He was sure they could work together after that kiss. He’d prove it to her. And to himself.

When he returned to the locker room later that day, he passed Jake in the batting cage. A longing filled him, and he watched as the shortstop nailed a ball and sent it soaring into the humid air.

This was something else he would have to get used to on the East Coast. Even though the chill had thawed and spring finally seemed inevitable, the air just seemed heavier, wetter than what he was used to. It had rained last night, and the ball field still glittered with droplets. The sky was overcast, and he knew at this time of year the forecasts would probably contain lots of showers. It was a factor he would need to take into consideration, for humidity actually decreased air density and a ball would go considerably farther.

And that’s what was happening with Jake. He slammed the next pitch, and they both grinned when it sailed over the wall. The shortstop felt his eyes on him and turned, holding up the bat, one brow arched in a question.

He didn’t hesitate. Although he wasn’t supposed to do this yet, Gavin didn’t give a damn. His hands ached to hold that Louisville Slugger and do what he was meant to do. Eagerly, he went into the batting cage as Jake stepped aside and he gripped the bat, feeling the familiar weight of it in his hand.

“Don’t pivot or lean on that leg,” Jake warned, watching him closely. “But I know how you feel. Go ahead, give it a try. I’ll keep an eye on you and let you know if something looks off.”

He nodded, and made contact with the next pitch. It didn’t go as far as Jake’s, but he’d choked his hold on the bat and shortened his swing so he wouldn’t torque his body. He was rewarded with that indescribable thrill of seeing the ball take flight.

His throat actually got tight and he stepped forward to take another shot, assuming his normal stance. Jake held up his hand to stop him, and then indicated the plate.

“Lean more on the right side. I know this is going to feel awkward, but when you swing make sure you don’t transfer the weight like you normally would. Let your upper body do the work right now.”

“Right.” He did as Jake advised, even though it felt awkward. But it was safe, and would allow him to hit a few balls without hurting himself. He missed the next two, unable to get used to the position and losing his rhythm. But he nailed the next one, and he felt a ridiculous grin break out on his face as it soared into the atmosphere.

“Smoked it,” Jake said, and they both laughed. For the first time in a long time, Gavin felt normal. He stepped up to try again, but Jake put his hand on the bat.

“I think that’s enough today. I don’t need that redhead coming after me.” He smirked, and Gavin nodded, understanding. “But tell you what. We’ll keep this our little secret. I’ve been taking extra practice around this time every day. Find a way to pop over so that no one notices. You can start out slow, like this, and then work up as your knee heals. We can even set up a stool in the cage so you can’t cheat.”

“Thanks.” His eyes met Jake’s. He didn’t know how to express what he was thinking or feeling. Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

“You’re welcome.” As they walked away from the cage, Jake indicated the locker room and put an arm around his shoulder. “By the way, we’re pranking Chase tonight. His wedding invitations just went out, so we filled his locker with Playboy magazines and condoms, just to remind him of what he’ll be missing. Make sure you get there before him. This should be pretty good.”

Gavin chuckled. “You guys are brutal.”

But he was beginning to be glad to be one of them.


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