Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance Read online

  “Don’t let me bore you to death,” Jeanine said. “I’m really not that interesting. A small business owner, a woman who prefers to remain single. No real family to speak of.”

  “Ah.” He leaned toward her, as if snatching a gold nugget. “I want to know why you have no family.”

  Jeanine heaved her chest and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to leave her alone until she gave him what he wanted, yet, all her life, no one had ever really, truly cared to ask her about her family, or lack of one.

  Even her friend, Marcia, had simply accepted that Jeanine was a foster child who got a job at sixteen and lived on her own, then put herself through college.

  The flight attendants made their last sweep of the cabin before closing the doors, and the plane began its taxi to the runway. They’d arrive in Vegas in about an hour. Maybe she’d bore Kirk with her story and he’d leave her side once they deplaned. Then she’d get her recreational man and get her mojo back while it lasted. Enough mindless sex to take her out of that dark place long enough to last another week of grinding work and worrying about the people she loved.

  “My mom left me when I was two months old.” She heard herself explain in a monotone voice. “I was never told what happened to her.”

  Kirk didn’t make any sounds, didn’t say anything stupid or comforting. He simply kept his gaze on her, his eyes open and fully engaged. Nodding slightly, he gave her permission to go on spilling.

  “Obviously I went through a series of foster homes. Some better than others. No one who hasn’t been through the system can truly understand. You try to make the best of it, but there’s always the uncertainty—never being comfortable, never knowing if you have to move on. And then there were the other children. Some were foster kids, others were the natural kids, and of course, some got adopted, and others kept getting shuffled from one place to the next.”

  “I take it you never got adopted. Strange, since you were given up at two months—a blonde, blue-eyed, pretty baby, I’m sure, and no genetic defects.”

  His words sucker-punched her gut, flooding her with the rejection she’d hardened herself against.

  “Hey, I can’t explain why no one wanted me for keeps.”

  The truth was worse than he could ever imagine. Oh, the men wanted her, but none of her foster mothers ever got close to her. And the attentions of the foster fathers? Jeanine suppressed a shudder. She would not allow herself to be a victim. They’d loved her a little too much, but then, she’d loved them in return, before she was shuffled off to yet another home. Only, the last one took it too far. Way too far, and she sunk in too deep. No, she hadn’t been his lucky charm—no way, no how, not after thirteen years in the slammer. He blamed her for putting him away. And now, he was out.

  An icy shudder ran through her body, and she drew in a deep breath.

  “No offense meant.” Kirk rubbed her shoulder, misunderstanding her body language. “Maybe you were unlucky.”

  “Or maybe I was lucky no one wanted me.” Jeanine bit her words hard. “It made me strong. The type of woman who can love herself, enjoy her own body, and feel no shame for taking what she wants.”

  “How do you know no one wanted to adopt you? Maybe the paperwork was too much.”

  “It doesn’t much matter anymore, does it?” Jeanine swallowed gall. “My own mother didn’t want me. I have no clue who my father is, and why should it matter if a bunch of foster parents only took me in for the checks? I don’t need anyone to want me.”

  “I’m not saying you need it, but wouldn’t it be nice to at least feel wanted?”

  “Pah. I feel that every time I walk into a room and every man looks at me a certain way. They all want something from me. Including you.”

  Kirk’s jaw tightened and he blinked. “What do you think I want from you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Jeanine huffed. “What do you see when you look at me?”

  The airplane had taxied to its position on the runway and the pilot said, “Ready for take off. All flight attendants take your seats.”

  Kirk grabbed ahold of Jeanine’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “I see a determined and stubborn woman who gets what she wants. But …”

  The engines whirred louder and the plane moved forward, picking up speed, its wheels bouncing on the runway.

  “There’s always a but, isn’t there?” Jeanine muttered, more to herself than to him.

  “Yes, the truth is, I see a lost soul, and I want to find that living, breathing, vibrant girl who’s hidden inside of you and bring her back.”

  “Why?”

  The whine of the jet engines grew louder, and they were pushed back against their seats.

  “Why not?” He sealed a kiss on her lips as the plane floated off the ground, taking off steeply into the desert sky.

  * * *

  Kirk was definitely playing with fire, but it didn’t matter. He’d never, ever been so interested in any woman before. Jeanine was a puzzle, an abnormality, a woman who seemed to have it all together—a business, beauty, and a strong personality—full of confidence.

  A woman who didn’t need anything—not love, not companionship, nothing—or so she portrayed herself.

  Her kisses, though, spoke volumes. Mouth open, she slipped her tongue around his and moved her lips in tune with his thrusting tongue. A moan slipped from her throat above the roar of the jet engines as the plane banked and made a turn toward Vegas. Her heat and the way she responded to him had him picturing her spread out on a bed with him. He had no doubt she was a voracious lover, her appetites running toward the kinky side.

  He buried his tongue into her mouth and pushed her against the seatback, wishing he could touch her, explore her sensually, and make her scream with pleasure.

  Except her hands were still clenched in front of her, and she was guarded, despite the sexy, mewing noises she made. She fought and kissed, a contradiction he found most intriguing, as if she hated the very thing she found pleasurable, yet at the same time craved that which she loathed.

  Before she could muster the strength to push him away, he unlocked his mouth from hers.

  She gasped and her eyelids fluttered, before she realized he’d broken away first. For a small moment, he thought he’d seen the real Jeanine, wistful and slightly lost, but like a shapeshifter, the cold, determined look of a master player morphed over her face and she narrowed her eyes, assessing him.

  “I’m not afraid of flying,” she said.

  “No, but has it occurred to you that I might be?” One side of Kirk’s lips twitched, giving him away. “I might have hyperventilated.”

  “Liar. You’re a major leaguer. You guys travel all the time.”

  “Ah, but never in the company of someone like you.” He kept his gaze on her clear blue eyes. “Mark my words. I’m going to figure you out.”

  “I told you already. There’s nothing to figure out. I have wants and no needs. I take what I want, and leave all the rest.”

  “What’s in the rest that you leave?” He raised one eyebrow. “Friendship?”

  “I have friends.”

  “Security?”

  “I’m self-reliant.”

  “A home?”

  “My home is wherever I am.”

  “A lover?”

  “I have plenty.”

  “How about a family, kids, a husband, a minivan, a golden retriever, a white picket fence, and a house in the suburbs?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “You’re a smart man. Do I look like I want any of that? What I want, I get.”

  “So, you’re satisfied with being single and playing the field?”

  “The same way you are.” She tapped his chest. “Pot calling the kettle black.”

  “How do you know that?” He grabbed her hand, loving the way she always flinched before softening. “I might want all of that in a few years.”

  “Really? You’d want a husband to go with that minivan, golden retriever, and white picket fence?”

&n
bsp; Now she was teasing and smiling, and her eyes sparkled with mischief, and the mask relaxed on her face, briefly.

  “I would want a wife, ideally, but she has to be truthful and someone I can trust. I haven’t met anyone I can trust.”

  “Me either, but I’m not looking.”

  “Not even a little bit?” He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “No fairy tale prince sweeping you off your feet?”

  “None, whatsoever. I told you. I had no parents, no family, no dreams. I’m a survivor. No one can take that away from me.”

  He wanted another kiss, another indication that he would be the one to plant a dream in her soul, that he would find the key to unlock her heart, and find it full of loyalty and devotion.

  He brushed his fingers through her hair and rested his lips on her forehead. “No one will ever take anything away from you.”

  “What if they already have?” she whispered, so low, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

  His lips froze on her skin and he closed his eyes, suddenly worried about how fragile and delicate this woman was, like the robin’s egg he’d accidentally stuck his finger in while climbing a tree.

  The sickening feeling engulfed him at the same time the airplane jittered and jumped, surrounded by turbulence. This was no longer a game. This was a precious woman’s shell that, if broken, might never be put back together again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jeanine tried to keep the tears from leaking. She swallowed hard and deprived herself of air, not wanting Kirk to feel her gasp. The turbulence was bumping the plane up and down to the point where the flight attendants were called back to their jump seats.

  She’d never been afraid of flying before, but as the plane swayed and jolted, and people exclaimed after a particularly large dip, she, too, experienced that life flashing before her eyes thing. Hers hadn’t been worth much at all. Sure, she’d accomplished a lot all by herself, but what did she have? A bank account, a nice car, a little black book of conquests, a few friends, a black belt, and emptiness inside her heart.

  If the plane disintegrated, who would mourn her? Who would really, truly miss her? Would she have made a real difference in anyone’s life?

  Kirk held her tightly. His shoulders and arms were so solid and comforting—which was a surprise, since she’d never taken comfort in anyone’s arms, least of all a big, strong man.

  She wasn’t used to anyone being tender or caring, or even pretending. Because that was what it had to be. She was a challenge for Kirk to break through. It was a male ego thing. Or his teammates had put him up to it.

  You’re the new guy. Figure out this Jeanine Jewell and report back to us. You say you’re a master player. Get Jeanine to turn obsessive and needy. Then we’ll believe you’re a legend when it comes to women.

  Jeanine was about to push away when the plane hit an air pocket, and the overhead compartment across from them burst open. Everyone near them gasped and stared at the bin. A carry-on was dangling on the curved portion of the lid.

  Kirk unbuckled his seatbelt and lunged toward the bin, catching the carryon. The plane swayed, and more pieces of luggage tumbled. He shoved his shoulder against another falling carry-on, shielding the lady across the aisle.

  The plane lurched to the side, and a hard shell briefcase fell, hitting Kirk on the head. Jeanine unsnapped her seatbelt and rushed to help. Together, they struggled, holding onto the seatbacks and other passengers to shove the luggage back into the bin.

  When Kirk finally slammed the bin shut, the surrounding passengers cheered and clapped as they staggered back to their seats.

  “Kirk, you’re bleeding.” Jeanine wiped his hair from his forehead.

  “It’s probably nothing. Just a scratch.”

  Jeanine pulled her purse out from under the seat and found a packet of tissues. “Still, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  It wasn’t easy with the turbulence, but she dabbed his forehead and applied pressure with the tissue. Her eyes locked with his, and something passed between them.

  Despite his cockiness and charm, he, too, had a story. She could tell, having grown up with other foster kids who all had their tales of woe. Some became angry and belligerent, always looking for a fight. Others withdrew into a shell, but there was always the clown, the guy who acted as if nothing bothered him, who craved attention and seemed to live a charmed life.

  Kirk was that confident kid. She was sure, because right at that moment, when she cleaned his wound, doing something basic that anyone would do, his gaze had softened, and he was like that injured dog lying at the side of the road she’d helped when she was thirteen.

  She lowered the tissue and folded it where the blood had seeped through. “We should ask for a Band-Aid.”

  “It’s okay. Thanks for wiping it off for me.” His voice was husky, but it wasn’t from lust or desire. He seemed to glow under her tender ministrations, as if he were a hurt kid craving his mommy’s attention.

  “Do you want me to kiss your owie?” Jeanine heard herself murmur, her voice too throaty.

  “Not my owie, but I have something else I’d like you to kiss.” His grin deepened with a dimple on one side.

  The moment was broken, and they were back to flirting. She was both relieved and disappointed. She’d glimpsed something, and now it made her wonder.

  She’d always assumed people who grew up on the social registry with wealthy parents had it easy. She’d easily found Kirk’s life story on the internet. His father was a high profile attorney and his mother was a socialite. They were old money, at least from colonial times. But maybe it hadn’t been easy for him either, and he, too, was missing something, and running aimlessly through a life without meaning.

  “You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you?” she teased, her heart lighter now that they were through the turbulence.

  “I aim to please.” He let his eyebrows wag. “Do I get another kiss for saving the luggage?”

  Whether he was charming her for his ego, or as a challenge from his teammates, suddenly, it no longer mattered. For whatever reason, he made her feel light-hearted, fun, and happy-go-lucky.

  She should stop taking herself so seriously. She should let her hair down and relax. It was tiring to be on guard all the time. In half an hour or so, they’d be landing in Vegas, the fun capital of America.

  “Go for it, big boy.” She leaned toward him, throwing away her misgivings, at least for now, and smothered him with a hot, wet kiss.

  * * *

  Kirk held Jeanine’s hand as they deplaned and walked through the Jetway. Once the turbulence had settled down, the flight attendants came through the aisle and offered them free drinks. Everyone hailed him and Jeanine as heroes, even though all they’d done was keep anyone from being hurt by flying luggage.

  He sported a SpongeBob Band-Aid on his forehead, but it was worth it. Jeanine had kissed him off and on during the entire rest of the flight.

  “So, where are we going to hang out?” Kirk asked Jeanine.

  “I got reservations at the Palacio. I booked us a two-bedroom suite. I figured we could compare notes after our adventure.”

  “Our afterglow party. Shall I order out for hot tamales and cigars?” He swung her arm as they power-walked through the terminal to ground transportation.

  “Definitely, but I get the tub first, and I don’t share.”

  “Then I’ll shower while you’re in the tub, but don’t worry, I won’t stare.”

  “Sure you won’t.” She gave him a sidelong look, gratified that his face was twisted in a tortured way as if he couldn’t imagine not staring. “After we watch the sunrise, we’re back on the plane in time for you to get back to spring training.”

  “Sounds like a grand plan.” Kirk tugged her toward the curb and hailed a cab. “I can’t wait to be your wingman.”

  She nudged him after she climbed into the backseat of the cab. “Remember, as your wingwoman, I have to approve of your pickup.”

  “
Actually, I’ll do you one better. I, as your wingman, will choose your partner for the evening. Do you trust me?”

  She rolled her eyes and bobbed her perky head. “Just stay out of my way when I spot my prey. Okay?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll bring them to you for your approval. After all, that’s what a good wingman does.” He dotted a kiss on her lips, feeling her smile.

  He gave the cabdriver their destination and settled back in the seat. The night was still young and they both had plenty of possibilities. He’d let Jeanine loose at one of the many bars and lounges available and watch her in action.

  Jeanine snuggled close to him and said, “I bet all the party girls will swarm all over you. How are you going to narrow it down to just one?”

  “That’s why I’ll need your help, wingwoman.”

  “Do you have a type? Blonde or brunette? Party girl or hipster? Tall, thin, and elegant, or feisty and flirty?”

  “How about you? Athlete or businessman? Sophisticated and rich, or bulky and bad?”

  “I take them all.” She licked her lips suggestively and winked.

  “Then you’re in luck, because I’m all of the above, and my type is you.” And even though he’d kissed her so many times on the flight, he couldn’t help but dip his face toward hers and embrace her with another deep and passionate kiss.

  Yep. He’d watch her flirt and flitter from man to man, but if she thought he’d let any of them lay a paw on her, she’d soon regret having him come along on her adventure.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jeanine stood in front of the mirror at her hotel suite and adjusted her designer cocktail dress. It was a tight little black sequined number with a plunging neckline and a side slit so high she had to wear a thong instead of panties.

  She smoothed lotion over her long, tanned legs, and slipped her manicured feet into a pair of glittery black stilettos.

  Tonight, she was going big. She’d been stressed out all week, especially after Tina had moved in with her news about Simpson getting out of jail. Thinking and worrying about him did her no good, and she deserved some fun, make that lots of fun. She’d select the man most likely to give her the release she sought—to brighten the darkness, and send her into a pleasurable and climatic oblivion.