Covering Home (14 page)

“Not as shocked as us. We staggered back after curfew, sick to our stomachs from all that fair food before we hit the roller coaster, and found coach waiting in the lobby.”

“Busted.”

“You got that right. I’ve never run so much in my life. We were out on the field at sunrise the next morning, a cool seventy-eight degrees with ninety percent humidity—it wasn’t pretty.”

“And you’ve avoided roller coasters ever since. Clearly you’re traumatized.” Britt’s smile stretched wide enough to reveal a cavernous dimple in her cheek.

His heart stuttered.
Mercy.
“Clearly. I still can’t eat funnel cake, either.”

“Ew.” Britt’s smiled faded.

The attendant grabbed the next vacant cabin and beckoned to them. “For you.”

Britt climbed in first. She settled in against the black cushioned seat, smoothing her skirt over her legs. He enjoyed yet another glimpse of the creamy white skin on her lower calf. Man, she wore that dress well. His pulse kicked up a notch. This could either be the best or most challenging fifteen minutes of his day.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” She stared out the glass panel on her side of the cabin, clutching her tiny purse in her lap.

Caleb watched her trap her lower lip behind her teeth. Yep. Breathtaking. Was it hot in here? He adjusted the dials near his head and cool air fanned them immediately.

“A climate-controlled Ferris wheel?” Britt shook her head. “I can’t wait to tell my brother.”

“They’ve thought of everything here on the big O.”

The door clicked shut and Caleb’s gaze locked on hers. “Last chance to bail.”

Her eyes flitted toward his lips for a fraction of a second. “I’m pretty content right here.”

The air crackled with electricity. Oh boy. Her words from dinner washed over him, like plunging his elbow into a bucket of ice, dousing the embers of attraction that burned within. No time for a relationship, remember? She was leaving Tokyo in seventy-two hours. He turned away as they started moving. The view from his side of the cabin wasn’t all that stellar yet, but he had to remove her from his line of vision, only so he could get his bearings.

“Look, there’s the Dome.” Britt pressed her finger to the glass. The puffy white roof stretched out below them. “It looks like a giant air mattress, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, still wrestling with his intentions.
What’s your problem?
But even a fool could see the timing here was all wrong.

Surprise her.

There it was again. A subtle whisper, a prodding, to change his ways. Before the chance of a lifetime slipped away.

Britt touched his sleeve. “Hey.”

He turned back from the window, the lights mounted on the frame of the Ferris wheel illuminating half of his face. Even in the semi-darkness, those dark chocolate eyes studied her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

They cruised upward, each incremental turn of the wheel taking them higher and higher above the lights of Tokyo. Caleb raked a hand through his hair and released a slow breath.

“I’m thinking about how I’m on the most romantic Ferris wheel ride of my life, with a beautiful woman who leaves town in a couple of days and lives on the other side of the world.”

She moistened her dry lips. “Wow, that’s a bummer. You should make the most of your time together. See where things go.”

“I’d like to, but it’s complicated.” His knee bounced up and down incessantly while he settled his arm across the back of the seat. “We both started new jobs. In different countries.”

“That sounds pretty intense.” She felt a smile tugging at her lips. Where had this flirty, playful Caleb been hiding?

“I love talking to her. She’s crazy about baseball, which I find very appealing. But she said this was a lousy time for a relationship, so I—”

“I didn’t say lousy.” She twisted toward him, her pulse skittering out of control. “I mean … baseball demands crazy hours. But anything’s possible. You should give it a chance.”

“Really?” Caleb gently brushed her hair off her shoulders. “You aren’t worried about the … obstacles?”

“Not right now,” she whispered. “I’m a little distracted.”

His fingers cupped the nape of her neck and her skin tingled from his touch.

He leaned in, his eyes roaming her face. A tiny scar inhabited the otherwise perfect plane of his high cheekbones. She wanted to ask about the scar, but that thought flitted away as his mouth found hers. While the logical side of her brain sounded all the alarms about how risky this was, when he deepened the kiss, every fiber of her being responded to his touch. He tunneled both hands through her hair, drawing her closer. A moan escaped. Was that her?

Caleb’s lips left hers for an instant, his eyes smoldering.

Wait. Come back.
She clutched fistfuls of his shirt and drew him in for another kiss.

Only the demand for oxygen caused her to end the kiss, but Caleb didn’t move even a fraction of an inch. Those incredible lips were still dangerously close. “Wow. I’m glad we had this talk.” His voice was rough with emotion.

She could only manage a quick nod.

A laugh rumbled from his chest and she basked in the glow of his satisfied smile. “My, my. Britt Bowen rendered speechless. How about that?”

She tried to gather her thoughts. Mind-blowing first kiss. A baseball player committed to a season in Japan, while she’d spend most of the year in Newark. “W—what do we do now?”

Caleb arched one eyebrow then glanced down at her hands still clutching his shirt.

Oh. Right. She ducked her head, another round of heat warming her cheeks. Releasing her hold on his plaid button-down, Britt nested her trembling hands in her lap.
Deep breath.

Caleb untangled his hands from her hair, letting one rest on her shoulder, while the other explored the angel charm on the bracelet clasped around her wrist. “Let’s take it one step at a time. I’ll walk you back to your room and hopefully find a way to see you tomorrow.”

“How about after the game? We could pretend it’s an interview.”

Caleb snared her gaze. “Do I have to wait that long?”

She smiled. “I could do coffee, lunch, whatever.”

Caleb brought her hand to his lips and planted a tender kiss against her palm. She trembled with delight.

“I know this is crazy.” He kissed her palm again. “I have no idea where we go from here. But I will tell you this—I’m not one bit sorry.”

“Me, either,” Britt whispered.

But as the Ferris wheel descended, not even a dozen more kisses could erase the knowledge that there was no going back. And the road ahead would not be easy.

When the ride slowed to a stop, the attendant popped open the cabin door and Caleb climbed out. He surveyed the plaza, his trained eye settling on the handful of young men dressed in black. Their cigarettes emitted a faint glow in the semi-darkness. Not far away, a trio of cameras stood on tripods, lenses angled toward them.
Good grief.
Not even an amusement park ride was neutral turf anymore. He climbed right back into the capsule, much to the dismay of the attendant.

“No. No. No ticket, no ride!” The attendant hollered.

“Wait.” Britt bumped up against him. “What are you doing?”

Caleb pointed through the open door. “Paparazzi. Waiting on the plaza.”

“Reporters? Oh no,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Whatever shall we do? Those scoundrels.”

He frowned. “I think we should separate.”

Silence hung between them. “Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Better safe than sorry. You head back to the hotel, I’ll follow in a few minutes. If we’re not together, they won’t have anything to photograph.”

“This is nuts,” she murmured.

The irritation that etched her features was his first clue that she wasn’t impressed with his plan. But he didn’t have a hat to hide under. She wasn’t wearing his hoodie tonight. Given the circumstances, it was the best he could come up with.

“Ride closed, ride closed.” The attendant hopped around, gesturing wildly for them to move along.

“We need to get out, Caleb.”

He tightened his grip on the seat cushion. As soon as they were visible, those cameras would go crazy. No telling where those photos would end up, either. But he couldn’t hold off the attendant much longer and didn’t speak enough Japanese to pacify him. Bracing for the onslaught of camera flashes, he left the safe cocoon of the Ferris wheel. The reporters hadn’t budged. Cameras at the ready. Maybe he could figure out a way around them. He reached back to offer Britt a hand.

She laced her fingers through his and climbed out beside him. Her gaze swept over the plaza. “Caleb Scott, you need your eyes checked.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s a film crew. Lane McCallister is shooting a movie here, remember?”

A sickening feeling settled in his stomach.
No.

Right on cue, Lane and her entourage appeared on the plaza. Wearing a red trench coat cinched tightly at her tiny waist, Lane moved with the confidence of a supermodel on the catwalk. She pressed a phone to her ear with one hand, while the other held the largest bottle of Evian water Caleb had ever seen. A man in a dark suit—probably a bodyguard—trailed behind her, while another young woman fussed with Lane’s hair. Someone called out instructions and the crew scurried about, oblivious to Caleb and Britt standing on the fringe of the action.

“Hey, world. Look, it’s Caleb Scott.” Britt cupped her hands around her mouth and imitated the roar of a crowd. No one so much as glanced in their direction.

“Very funny.”

Once Lane and her people moved through, the plaza was almost deserted. Of course they’d clear everyone out before they started shooting. Hadn’t Lane even told him they were working during the night?
Idiot.
How had he not recognized the situation for what it was?

“How will we ever make it to the hotel?” Britt feigned distress, pressing the back of her free hand to her forehead. A spotlight clicked on, casting a circle of light in front of the cameras.

“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.” The embarrassment of his hasty response heated his face.

“When will you tell me why you’re hiding here?” She faced him, her eyes filled with concern.

He let go of her hand. “I’m not hiding.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I’ve done the research. You turned down three offers in the States to come here and play for Shin. Why?”

“Not tonight. Please?” He rubbed his fingers across his chin. “I’m sure you’re asking with the best of intentions. But I don’t want to get into it.”

“Because it’s too complicated, or you don’t want me to know, or—”

“Because I like you and we’re having a good time together and I … don’t want to mess up a good thing.”

“How does talking undo what’s happened between us?
Covering Home
is the ideal platform to tell your story.”

“Remember when I said sometimes it’s hard to discern between Britt the sportscaster and Britt the woman I’m hanging out with?”

She nodded.

“This is one of those times.” He masked his impatience by offering a smile and pointed toward the hotel. “Let me walk you inside.”

She didn’t move. “I can’t stop being a sportscaster just because we’re more than friends.”

There it is. The first of many obstacles he feared would come between them. “But you can be a sportscaster and not talk about my past.”

She shot him an inquisitive stare. “So there
is
something you don’t want me to know.”

He groaned and nudged her playfully with his shoulder. “Woman, you’re relentless.”

She laughed. “And you’re evasive.”

His pulse stuttered. That laugh, coupled with her smile, would make him putty in her hands. “Fair enough.”

They crossed the plaza and pushed through the revolving door into the hotel. They stopped short inside the lobby. Things might have shut down outside but the party had clearly moved indoors. A steady stream of guests flowed between the concierge and the elevator. Young women in designer dresses clustered around the fountain, their expensive handbags on display. Business travelers loitered on the sofas, mesmerized.