Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance Page 14

  “I’m thinking Tina should talk to both of them and see which one she clicks with. They helped you and Brock, right?”

  “Definitely.” Marcia thumbed through her phone. “I’ll text them to you.”

  “Thanks,” Jeanine said. “I’m going to open up the restaurant side. Why don’t you go home? Tina’s out there so you can get some rest.”

  “Rest? Like at home with the baby?” Marcia’s jaw gaped wide. “It’s actually easier here than at home. But you’re right. I can’t tire Pappy out. He needs a break, too.”

  An idea sparked in Jeanine’s mind and she felt as if a light bulb had exploded. Of course. She’d offer to take care of baby Brock and Bianca on her next day off and let Marcia and Brock stay out at a hotel. Pappy could also have a sleepover at his buddy’s place and spend the day fishing.

  How hard could it be? She’d have Kirk to help her take Bianca and the baby to the zoo. This was perfect.

  “How about this?” She walked back to Marcia and put her hands on her hips. “Next Wednesday, on my day off, I’ll watch both Binky and Boo, take them to the zoo, and spend the night. Then you and Brock can go to Vegas or stay at a local hotel. It’s the Rattlers’ one day off this spring training, so you gotta make the most of it.”

  “I don’t know …” Marcia wrung her hands and bit down on her lip. “Are you sure you know how to take care of a baby?”

  “He’s what, three months old? Just leave all the milk in bottles, and we’ll heat them up and feed him. As for changing diapers, when I was at one of the foster homes, I was in charge of diaper changing all the little ones. Piece of cake.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly use that comparison.” A smile elongated across Marcia’s face and this time, it reached her eyes. “Let me talk it over with Brock. I guess Pappy can be your backup.”

  “Oh, no Pappy. Let him have a day off to go fishing. This is on me. I’ll read all the baby care books before next week and be ready for action.” Jeanine patted Marcia. “Okay, got to go open up.”

  This would be the perfect way to test Kirk, whether he really wanted to be her friend or not, and see if he was any good with kids. With the children around, he wouldn’t be able to put the moves on her as easily—assuming the baby never went to sleep.

  * * *

  The game went into extra innings, dragging through the eleventh, and then the twelfth. The Rattlers had just about emptied their bullpen and now Ryan Hudson, the closer, was pitching.

  He was a no nonsense guy and had an array of changeups, sliders, and curveballs. Kirk sized up the batter and signaled for a slider. The batter was at two strikes and would be the second out for the inning. He’d have to protect the strike zone and swing at anything that looked like a strike.

  Ryan shook him off, not agreeing. He signaled a fastball.

  Was he kidding? A fastball would be a gift to the batter, and from the look of it, the batter was picking up the signal. Kirk could sense the anticipation coming off the batter’s front leg, raring to hit a home run and give his team the insurance run, breaking the tie before the bottom of the inning.

  Kirk signaled a dropping slider again, and Ryan shook his head. It was time to go to the mound. Kirk couldn’t let Ryan lose it. Every game counted, and the coaches were watching to see if he, as the new catcher, could take leadership over the veteran closer.

  “What’s the problem? You want to gift the guy a fastball?” Kirk grumbled with his glove behind his back.

  “Let him think I’m throwing a fastball,” Ryan said. “It’s the bastard pitch. Trust me.”

  The bastard pitch looked like a fastball, then turned into a slider on the way out of the strike zone, fooling the hitter to swing and usually miss at the last split second.

  “Okay, then, I’ll act like I don’t agree with you.” Kirk shook his head vehemently and glanced at the dugout, as if trying to get the coaches to intervene. He dragged his heels back to the plate, acting like he’d been overruled and was angry about it.

  This time, he called another slider, but he was prepared. The ball hung for a moment, coming straight in, but broke down and away.

  Swing and a miss.

  “You’re out,” the umpire grunted.

  The batter threw up his hands and walked off, knowing how stupid he looked. Unfortunately, Ryan could only throw one bastard pitch because the next guy would anticipate it.

  He was one of their clutch hitters, a guy who could hit anything, inside or outside the zone. It was time to soften him up, so Kirk called for an inside pitch. Ryan nodded, then wound up, throwing it high and close to the batter’s neck. It was a ball, of course, but the batter jumped back out of the box.

  He glared at Ryan and took a few practice swings as if he’d like to knock the pitcher upside the head.

  Obviously, the next pitch would be down and away, forcing the batter to dive for it. Kirk called it, but Ryan shook him off.

  What was this guy doing? Did he want to hit the batter or what? Kirk called for a curveball, but was shaken off again.

  He didn’t want another conference on the mound, as time was getting late, and everyone was impatient to get going, so he accepted Ryan’s signal.

  The pitch came in hard and cut inside, hitting the batter on the thigh.

  That did it. The hitter jumped from the batting box and charged toward the mound, bat in hand. Kirk was on his feet, grabbing the batter from the back. Before he knew it, both dugouts emptied, and players swarmed onto the field.

  The game had been a bear, tied zero-zero, and guys wanted to let off steam. After a few shoves, shouts, and insults, everyone went back to their positions, and the batter took the intentional walk. Ryan most likely wanted to walk the guy, but by drilling him, he showed who was boss. Most people were unaware of what a psychological game baseball was, especially between the pitcher, catcher, and batter.

  Fortunately, the next guy was an easy out, a pop fly that Kirk caught with no problem. When it was time for the Rattlers to go to bat, Kirk finished the game with a solo homer.

  He was ready for the showers, but he wasn’t looking forward to the after game activities. He’d promised Jeanine he wouldn’t go to her bar, and all his teammates would wonder why. They knew he’d gone to Vegas with her, and in a way, maybe it was better not to go out with them and subject himself to their interrogation on which base he’d gotten with her.

  Hopefully, she had a good surprise planned for him, or maybe it was a way of blowing him off—letting him off the hook without directly rejecting him.

  Kirk flexed his talented hands and licked his lips. No woman who’d sampled his skills had ever turned away from him. Not one.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jeanine’s hands shook as she slipped the key into her apartment door lock. The door opened quietly into a dark living room. Where was Tina? She’d gotten off before the bar closed, saying she had to take care of something.

  The after party for the Rattlers’ winning streak had been rowdy and loud, but Kirk had notably been absent. It had been even worse that several of his teammates had asked Jeanine where he was, as if she were keeping track of him.

  “Tina?” Jeanine tiptoed into her apartment, her senses on high alert. It was too quiet. Tina was usually playing music or had the TV on.

  She double-locked the front door and flicked on the light, spotting the note on the kitchen counter.

  Sorry, J. I went back to Lennie. It was too scary last night.

  Jeanine breathed in and out, tamping down the jitters. Of course it was scary for Tina. Poor thing was forced to hide in the closet all night, and she was claustrophobic. Jeanine couldn’t blame her for leaving, but at the same time, she went from the frying pan back into the fire.

  Except the known was more reassuring than the unknown. Wasn’t that always the case?

  Jeanine inched into her bedroom and surveyed it. Other than the missing underwear, the place appeared undisturbed. But at the same time, someone could have installed a video camera or a liste
ning device. How did she know she was safe here?

  She sat on her bed and patted it, turned the pillows over and ran her hand along the edges of the mattress. The feeling of being violated clutched her chest, and it took effort to draw in a deep breath. What must Tina have felt hiding in the closet all night?

  Jeanine sucked in a shaky breath and headed to her bathroom. No sense imagining trouble. It was probably kids looking for drug money.

  But then, why hadn’t they taken the earrings?

  She switched the lights on and stared at the shower curtain. Was she imagining it, or was there a shadow behind it?

  Her hand crept forward to yank it back, and the lights cut out.

  She swallowed a scream and bolted from the bathroom. All the lights were off in her apartment. Had there been a power outage? Or did someone shut the switch in her apartment only? If so, was he inside or outside waiting for her?

  The minutes ticked by without the sound of her clock, and Jeanine noticed lights outside her window. Hers was the only apartment in the dark. Quickly, she grabbed the overnighter she had yet to unpack and scrambled out of her apartment. Her nerves were too taut to deal with this tonight. Tomorrow, she’d hire someone to change the locks and sweep for electronic devices before returning. She could go to a hotel, or Marcia’s house, or …

  She strode to her car, watching the shadows carefully. What if the man in the hoodie was outside ready to ambush her? She walked faster, as creepy tingles danced over her skin at the distinct sensation of being watched. She couldn’t bring danger to Marcia’s house, nor would she be safe at a hotel. Should she call the police?

  Right. Over a blown circuit breaker? They’d think her a lunatic.

  There was only a single answer. Kirk. He was a man, and he’d practically invited her to live with him. He couldn’t very well turn her down, could he?

  She pulled her car from her parking spot and drove a few blocks, scanning the rearview mirror. No one seemed to be following her, so she turned the corner and settled under a streetlamp where she could call Kirk.

  He picked up after two rings.

  “Hello? Jeanine? Is everything okay?” His voice sounded groggy, and it was quiet in the background.

  “Were you asleep? I missed you at the bar.”

  He made a stretching noise and yawned. “You told me to stay away. What’s up?”

  “Tina moved out, and the power went out at my apartment. The rest of the building’s fine. I, uh, didn’t want to disturb the supervisor. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but when I returned from Vegas, the police were there. Someone burglarized my place. Tina hid in the closet, and I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s just that now, I’m alone and I don’t know if they’re coming back.”

  Even as she said this, she felt stupid. Stupid and inadequate. Since when had she needed a knight in shining armor? Besides, Kirk Kennedy was far from the rescuing type, no matter what reassurances he’d given her.

  “Come on over. I’ll text you my address. You have a navigator on your phone?”

  “I do, but is it really okay?”

  “Of course it is. Lock your doors and don’t stop for anything. I’ll be outside my apartment waiting for you.”

  “You don’t have to.” Even though she said it, she was glad and relieved he’d be there for her.

  “You’ll feel safer. I’ll text you the address now.”

  “Thanks, see you in a bit.” She hung up and the text message came in right away. She set her navigator and steeled herself.

  The known was better than the unknown, and after spending time with Kirk in Vegas, she was sure he’d never hurt her or force her into anything she wasn’t prepared for.

  But was he prepared for her and her secrets? Kirk hated complications, and right now, she was a distraction he didn’t need—not if his only goal was to make the starting roster for the season.

  * * *

  Kirk brought up the tracker app on his phone and spotted Jeanine making her way to his place. She’d sounded freaked out. Why hadn’t she told him earlier that someone had broken into her place? Maybe it had been a stroke of good fortune that she was in Vegas with him the night before.

  Now her power was out? Not good. He’d seen the man stalking her, and she’d reported another one taking pictures of her, not to add the private investigator his mother had tailing her. For what? A bundle of love letters?

  Kirk paced back and forth on the sidewalk until he spotted the tracker beam approach his street. A few seconds later, her headlights turned the corner and he raised both hands, waving to her and directing her to visitor parking.

  As soon as she cut the ignition, he was at her car door.

  “Were you followed?” He scanned the quiet street.

  “No, at least I don’t think I was.” She rubbed her arms and shuddered.

  He reached across her and took her bag, and then led her to the lobby of the luxury high-rise.

  “We have keyed access to the elevator here,” he said, sliding his keycard before punching the button.

  “Good. I never thought of Phoenix as a high crime area. I’ve never had any problems before. Lived in my building five years and thought it was a safe neighborhood.”

  “Do you think it was someone trying to get to Tina? How well do you know her and her friends?”

  “She’s involved with a motorcycle gang, but if they were after her, they would have found her. Instead, they went through my things and stole my underwear.”

  “All of it?” He couldn’t help a flicker of amusement at the thought of her without a strip of underwear.

  “Only the sexy stuff.” She gave him a wry mouth. “Obviously, they knew what was expensive.”

  “Obviously.” He held the elevator door open as she stepped in. “You’re safe with me. With or without underwear.”

  “That’s good to know. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I didn’t know where to turn. I’m glad you live in a secured building.”

  “It helps to keep aggressive fans away.” He hit the button for his floor.

  She rolled her eyes and smiled, shaking her head. At least she was more relaxed than when she’d driven up, not that Kirk was going to take advantage and seduce her. This wasn’t a booty call, but a friend in need. Ironic how the first woman he would have staying in his apartment would not be sleeping with him.

  They reached his apartment a few minutes later. Kirk showed Jeanine to the spare room, the one his brother used when visiting. “Shove all the baseball books off the futon and make yourself at home. There’s a private bathroom in there. Let me get you towels and soap and get out of your way.”

  Jeanine touched his forearm. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. My door’s open if you need anything—anything at all.”

  A bright blush tinged Jeanine’s face and she blinked, swallowing nervously. “I need you to hold me.”

  She surprised him by folding herself into his arms. Her voice sounded strangled, as if she had a hard time admitting her fear.

  He wasted no time in wrapping her into his arms, comforting her. The way she held onto him took his breath away. She needed him, the way a woman needed her man to look after her—not any would do, and instinctively, as if she were drawn to him by an unknown force, she’d called him for help.

  It made him feel—heroic, something he wasn’t used to. He was a cad, a womanizer, a player, and a charmer. He was not usually a man a woman could count on.

  He soothed her by gradually rubbing the warmth back into her arms and her back. She breathed deeply and rested her face against his neck, tucked in like she belonged to him.

  He wanted to snap out of this fantasy. He wasn’t some noble prince or man with a mission. He was scheming Kirk Kennedy, the guy trying to edge Josh Johnson out of a job. He was a douchebag when it came to women, and he’d been known to call hotel security on a crying woman pounding on his door after he’d locked her out.

  But Jeanine didn’t know that, and maybe to her, he was someone
she could count on, or at least trust. He kissed her forehead and walked her across the hall to his room. “Take my bed. It’s more comfortable than the futon.”

  She didn’t protest, but padded mutely to his king-sized bed. With one hand, he smoothed the crumpled blankets and peeled them back, then gently guided her down onto his mattress.

  She was still wearing her cocktail waitress dress as she kicked off her heels and ran her hands through her hair. “It’s been a long day. We got up early, caught the flight, then I worked all day and night.”

  “You had a lot on your shoulders. You’re safe here.” He went across the hallway and fetched her bag.

  She looked both sexy and vulnerable as she pulled the covers over her legs.

  “Good night, Jeanine. I’m glad you called me.” He set her bag on the floor and bent over to kiss her.

  She let him touch her lips and palmed his face, rubbing his beard stubble. “Will you spend the night? Sleep with me?”

  His eyes widened at her question. “Do you mean sleep in the literal sense? Or …”

  “Just sleep. I need a warm body next to me.”

  He exhaled as he settled on the bed, propping himself up with one elbow. He was in a constant state of arousal just having her present, and there was no way he could control himself and sleep on the same bed with her. Yet, he couldn’t turn her down—not when she was so vulnerable and frightened.

  “I’m not sure I can keep my hands off you. I know that’s not what you came here for.”

  She shot him a sideways glance, and a corner of her mouth edged into a smirk. “I didn’t, but since I’m here and in your bed …”

  He didn’t want her to feel obligated. After all, he was offering her safe harbor for the night. But his body heated at the implication. “Are you sure?”

  The fear was gone from her eyes, and in its place was a sultry and mischievous glint. She took his hand and placed it on her breast. “I didn’t get laid last night, and I’m betting you didn’t either.”