Double Play (3 page)

He
captured her mouth in a kiss first gentle, then achingly romantic, as if he
meant to say what he couldn’t say with words alone. She wanted to reassure him,
tell him he was forgiven, but they were beyond words now. Their hearts were
speaking a language only they could understand.

He
laid her back against the silky makeshift bed and drew her under him, seeking
their union. The first tear slipped down her cheek, welling against his strong
shoulder. He shouldn’t mean this much to her. He didn’t belong to her. But as
he entered her, she rose to that sacred place where none of it mattered. All
she wanted was in her arms, for now and for always. Tomorrow would come soon
enough. For now, the sheer bliss of J.D. was everything she needed.

“Halee.”
Her name danced off his lips like his favorite song. “I just can’t get enough
of you, Halee.” He slid deep inside her, pulsing against her tender flesh,
hitting all the sweet spots with the skill of an artisan. Making love to J.D.
was a total body experience, exciting every major nerve and leaving each one
singing in his wake. She suddenly hated his mysterious fiancé and every girl
that came before and would come after her.

The
first orgasm climbed through her, but she pushed back, flipping J.D. under her
and taking charge of the moment. Placing her palms against his chiseled abs,
she rose to cowgirl position, riding her bronco with a skill that had him
grinning with surprised delight.

“Baby,”
he cooed.

“Tequila
Halee,” she corrected. “Remember me, J.D. Remember me just like this.” She
cupped him, riding his hard body to the rhythm of the calypso beat two slips
down, watching the need in his fiery eyes rise until he cried out, his body
kicking beneath her like a broken bull. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy twitched
through her as he exploded inside her, cutting off her air until at last she
released her pleasure in one long sigh of satisfaction.

“I
think I’m in love,” sang J.D., pulling her into a bear hug.  “Where’d you learn
those moves, Girl?”

Halee
smiled her best sexy smile. “You inspire me, J.D.”

“Holy
cow, Honey!” he panted. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll work up some more
inspiration.”

He
pulled the comforter around them and tucked the corners up against her naked
body. She nestled against his heat and breathed in the delicious clean aroma of
their sex. The stars glistened overhead and the moon shyly peeked out from behind
a bank of clouds, as if embarrassed by the display of their passion. But she
wasn’t. She felt all woman, all powerful seductress. She liked Tequila Halee
and from the way J.D. was raining kisses along her shoulders, so did he.

“See
that constellation, there?” asked J.D. “The one that looks like a teapot?”

Halee’s
eyes followed his pointed finger, squinting to make out anything that looked
remotely like a teapot and coming up short. 

“Sagittarius,”
said J.D. confidently. She nodded, delighted with this new found depth to
J.D.’s personality. Maybe baseball and sex weren’t all he thought about, after
all.

He
turned her chin toward the north. “The line of stars that form a W- that’s
Cassiopeia.”

“Cassiopeia,”
Halee repeated, nuzzling his neck.

 He
pulled her closer and dipped his head back to look straight up overhead. She
followed suit. “Vega and Deneb,” he said almost reverently, “the brightest
stars in the night sky.”

“How
do you know all this?” asked Halee.

“You
grow up where I did, there ain’t nothin’ much else to do on a summer night
‘cept stare at the sky.” He gave her a quick kiss.  “I’m hungry. Wanna watch me
cook?”

“I
suppose Sam has a fully stocked refrigerator?”

“Gourmet
organic.”

“Now
I’m hungry.”

“Guess
I’ll have to work harder.” J.D. caught her mouth with his, drawing her lower
lip gently between his teeth. She sighed audibly.

“Another
satisfied customer.” He jumped up and grabbed his shorts, sliding them over his
lean long legs and fastening the drawstring low along his perfect hips. Halee
drank in the sight of his naked body, all muscle and sinew. He grabbed her
dress from the deck, then reached down and pulled her up with his left arm. “I
think you should stay naked,” he said with a grin, holding the dress at arm’s
length.

“Oh,
no,” she teased. “I’m way too sexy. They’ll find you starved to death in a pool
of your own semen.”

J.D.
grimaced. “Tequila Halee, you’re scarin’ me.”

Halee
tossed her head, delighted with her surge in confidence. She grabbed her dress
and slid it over her head.

“Come
on, Sexy. Let’s eat.” He led her down the narrow stairs into the small cabin.
She leaned against the bar and drank down the rest of her margarita. “Refill,”
she demanded.

“You
alright?”

“Never
better.”

“How
about a little food with that tequila?” he asked, popping a carrot stick into
her mouth.

“I
could eat a cow.” She leaned into the refrigerator, side by side with J.D.,
bare thigh to bare thigh. She nibbled on the carrot.  He nibbled on her ear. She
giggled.

“You
might be right about that pool of semen.”

“You’re
not ready…”

He
caught her question in his mouth. Kicking the refrigerator door closed with his
right foot, he backed her up to the bunk and tossed her into the pile of down,
climbing in on top. He reached for his drawstring.

“Wait.
Let me.” She sat up halfway and took the drawstring between her teeth, pulling
slowly.

 J.D.
groaned. “Lord have mercy!”

“Who’s
the sexiest woman alive?” murmured Halee against his tender flesh.

J.D.
hesitated. Halee gave a little bite.

“AHHH!
You! You are the sexiest woman alive!”

“Say
my name.”

J.D.
dropped his head back and closed his eyes as if being transported to another
galaxy. “Halee,” he panted.  “Halee McCarthy.”

“It’s
a shame you’ll be moving to New York.”

“Damn
shame.”

“Only
Chicago girls know how to do this properly.”

J.D.
groaned and flipped her underneath him. “Let me show you how we do it in
Oklahoma.” And for the next hour he worked his own magic until at last she begged
for mercy.

He
collapsed at her side and pulled her close, listening to her soft breathing and
thinking of the stars and the sweet taste of Halee McCarthy until his grumbling
stomach reminded him it needed filled.

“Wanna
watch me cook?” he murmured against Halee’s neck.

But
Halee had already drifted off to sleep.

Halee
opened one eye to the merciless sun blazing through the opened curtains and
slapped a hand to her aching forehead. “Holy Moses!” she moaned. “Who hit me?”

“I
believe his name is Jose Cuervo.”

Halee
opened her other eye and peered toward the female voice coming from somewhere
behind her. She rolled over and met the amused gaze of a small woman with café
au lait skin wearing a white silk sleeveless sweater and well fitted jeans. Her
hair was cropped into a short curly tumble and she wore dark rimmed eye glasses
that made her look like an intelligent artist. She held up an empty bottle of
tequila and smiled. “Jose is not your friend.”

“Now
you tell me.”

“And
neither is J.D., between you and me,” said the woman, approaching the bunk.
“He’s the leaving kind.”

“You’re
not...”

“Samantha
Billings. You can call me Sam.”

Halee
shook her head, trying to make sense of the situation. “I thought…”

“That
Sam was a man? I’m sure my name works in J.D.’s favor every time he borrows my
boat. And your name?”

“Halee.
I’m Halee.” She reached down for her dress.

“Anne
Klein,” noted Sam. “Always elegant.”

“J.D.
bought it for me.”

“Of
course, he did. Played country ballads in that fancy little sports car of his,
too, didn’t he? Let me guess- Travis Tritt.” Sam broke into song. “
If you
wonder if I’m strong enough to be your man…yes, I am
.”

Halee
grimaced. “Thanks for spoiling that memory. I would have preferred to believe
that song was just for me.”

“
You’re
a complicated lady, that’s for sure…
” bellowed Sam in a country twang, doubling
over with laughter. “I know Travis. He’s the leaving kind, too.”

Halee
groaned and covered her eyes. “I can’t believe this. He’s sleeping with you,
isn’t he? How many of you are there?”

“Relax,
Sister,” said Sam. “J.D. and I are just friends, although I do admit that I’ve
been tempted a time or two. I let him hang around, mostly because he tells a
good story. We keep our hands to ourselves,” she said, allowing her eyes to
roam Halee’s exposed skin, “because I dig chicks. Which means you have about
thirty seconds to slip on that dress before I make a pass at you.”

“Omigod…”
Halee turned her back and hurriedly slipped the dress over her head. “I’m sorry
about the mess,” she said, rolling off the bunk and straightening the
comforters.

“No
worries. The maid comes this afternoon.” Sam studied her. “Need some
breakfast?”

Halee
had slipped one green shoe on her foot and was down on her hands and knees
looking for the other. “I can grab something on the way…”

“I
understand what he sees in you,” said Sam, placing a big bowl of granola and
raspberries on the counter. “You’re kind of sweet. Not like his normal
conquest.”

“Thanks…I
think.”

“His
other girlfriends would never apologize for anything. In fact, they’d probably
assume I was the maid.”

Halee
cringed.

“Oh,
now you’re worried about offending me. Where did he find you?”

“I’m
a leftover from last year,” Halee admitted, more to herself than anyone. “Where
is he, anyway?”

“J.D.?
He went to practice. Gotta pay for the Porsche.” She stared at Halee a full
minute. “Sit down and eat something or you’ll be sick.” She tossed the empty
tequila bottle in the trash.  “You didn’t drink this all by yourself, did you?”

“I
don’t remember.” Halee slid onto the barstool and chugged down a full glass of
orange juice.

 “It’s
not his, you know.”

“What?”

“The
Porsche. It’s not his. The dealers pay him to drive their cars.”

“I
didn’t know. I never thought about it, really.”

“God,
you really are different.”

“Maybe
that’s why I’m a leftover.”

“Maybe.
The penthouse isn’t his, either. The team provides it gratis. J.D.’s image is
more important to them than his talent.  He lives in style but the day he quits
he leaves it all behind.”

“He
did quit.”

Sam
raised her brows. "The Federals gig?"

Halee
nodded.

“Sweet!
Are you ok with that?”

Halee
shrugged her shoulders. “It's not up to me."

"But
you're the one left behind."

"I
suppose so," said Halee.

“Girls
tend to mistake sex for love."

"Yes,
well, I'm all grown up."

"Good
to know. What did he tell you about me?”

“He
said you painted these pictures.” Halee scanned the walls with an appreciative
eye. “They’re amazing.”

“Which
one do you want?” asked Sam.

Halee
shook her head. “I’m a little broke right now. Just finishing grad school.”

“Which
one do you like the best?”

“The
field of sunflowers,” Halee admitted. “I love sunflowers.”

“It’s
yours.”

“I
can’t…”

Sam
held up her hand. “I figure you gotta walk away with something when you take up
with J.D. God knows you won’t get his heart.”

“He's
really not as cold as you make him out to be.”

“Cold,
no. Uncommitted, yes. There’s a reason why J.D. is so successful. He’s got his
eye on what he wants and nothing is going to stop him.”

Halee
stirred her bowl of granola thoughtfully. “What does he want?”

“Revenge.”

Halee
dropped her spoon. “Revenge?”

Sam
nodded. “He’s a poor kid, just like me. Kids like us spend our whole lives
trying to prove we’re somebody. J.D. wants to go back to his hometown and be
Big Man.”

“Where’s
home?”

“Some
fool town in Oklahoma. Ranch hand’s kid. Got pushed around a lot; baseball
seemed like the best way out. Daddy died young, the whole nine yards. Where are
you from, Halee?”

“Right
here.”

“No
kidding.”

“Yup.”

“I
should have known by the way you drag your a’s.”

“Halee
laughed. “I’m not from Boston.”

“No.”
Sam laughed along with her. “But you Chicago natives kind of sit on your a’s,
make them flat.”

“Okay.”

“See-
just like that.”

Halee
finished her bowl of cereal and slid off the barstool. “I have to get to class,
that is, if they’ll let me in the door an hour late.”

“Let
me know if they don’t,” said Sam. “You’re good company.” She reached up and
pulled the sunflower painting off the wall. “Sorry you took up with J.D. Hope
it was worth it.”

Halee
smiled, despite herself. “Always is.”

***

J.D.
shut the Titan manager’s office door behind him and sized up the petite woman
studying her nails. Catrina Hiett was fresh from the salon, ten little red toes
peering out from a pair of sparkly gold sandals. Her white shorts showed off a
pair of long tanned legs and a half carat belly button ring. She’d piled her
blonde hair taller than any self-respecting Texan slut. J.D. couldn’t help but
smile.

 “You
get those claws sharpened, Cat?” He leaned over and poured a cup of water from
the cooler. Better to let Catrina get her fill of him with his back turned.
Those piercing blue eyes could make a man’s skin crawl.

“Just
in time,” said Catrina with a sneer. “Come over here and let me try them on
you.”

J.D.
straightened and met Catrina’s eyes over his paper cup.

“I
thought you were gone,” she said.

“Almost.
I need a favor.”

“The
answer is no.”

“Still
sore?”

“I
don’t deal well with rejection.”

“I
prefer my women sober and responsive, Catrina. It’s embarrassing when they fall
asleep on me.”

“Sober
I can manage. Responsive is up to you.”

“I’d
offer you a do-over but Roudy would kick my ass.”

“Just
as well. I’m not in the mood for you or any other man.”

J.D.
raised his brows. “Trouble in Camelot?”

“It’s
temporary.”

“Does
it matter?”

Catrina’s
painted eyes turned misty.

“Looks
like it matters. Maybe I can help.”

“Wild
sex with J.D. Shaw?” Catrina sniffled. “Hold me back.”

“I’m
thinkin’ about something more permanent.”

“I
don’t do permanent.”

“Neither
do I. That’s why we’re perfect partners in this little venture.”

Catrina
sighed. “Get to the point, J.D.”

“I
need you to go to New York with me.”

“To
do what? Carry your ball bag?”

J.D.
hesitated. “I need you to pose as my fiancé.”

Catrina
snorted. “Your fiancé? We can hardly stand to be near each other.”

“Closest
thing to love is hate.”

“Maybe
in the movies.” She narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Federals
think a man who’s settled at home has his head in the game.”

“The
Federals want a man who can catch a ball,” she scoffed. “What do they care how
many women you sleep with?”

“They
ain’t budgin'.”

 “I’ve
seen you play your best on the heels of loose women and too much liquor. You
need to renegotiate.”

“Gladly.
First I need a fiancé.”

Catrina
studied him. “This is not the J.D. Shaw I know and loathe. Since when do you
take orders?”

“It’s
complicated.”

“I’m
all ears.”

“I
want the money. I’m sure you can relate to that.”

“You
must want it real bad to take it on the chin.”

“Maybe
we can beat them at their game.”

“There
is no
we
, J.D.” Catrina studied him for a long minute. “Why me?”

“Devil
women don’t get hurt.”

“And
your little Halee would.”

J.D.
tossed his cup in a nearby trash container. “Halee McCarthy isn’t in the
picture. Like I said, I don’t do permanent.”

 “Humph.
Well, there’s no love loss between the two of us, that’s for sure.”

“Exactly
my point.”

“Let’s
get this straight. I pull off the best performance of my life pretending I give
a damn about you; you get to play for the Feds. What’s in it for me, besides
pulling a fast one on a bunch of rich pricks?”

“You
live in Manhattan luxury till the end of the season at which time we stage a
fight and you declare to the press that you’re going home to Daddy. You get a
new wardrobe and your name all over the papers. Roudy sweeps in to save the
day. You forget my name.”

“Separate
bedrooms?”

J.D.
nodded.

“Unless
I get desperate.”

“I
doubt you’ll get that desperate.”

 “But
no social life.”

“I
expect Tony will want us seen at every night club in New York.”

“Sober.”

“And
very much in love.”

Catrina
grimaced.

“It’s
about time you put all those acting lessons your Daddy paid for to good use.”

“I’ll
need a big ring.”

J.D.
shook his head and laughed. “I’ll call King.”

***

“Catrina
Hiett? The Titan manager’s daughter? Are you out of your mind, J.D.?”

“She
was available.”

“Halee
McCarthy is available.”

 “Cat’s
a better actress.”

“That’s
probably true. But what’s Daddy going to say?”

“I
promised her six months of Manhattan on your bill. I expect he’ll be thrilled.”

“You
did what?”

“It’s
in your best interest, King. You get a cut of my salary for the next ten
years.”

“Not
the way you’re cradling that shoulder of yours. What else did you tell her? Did
you tell her about the kid?”

“What
kid?”

“The
kid the Federals expect you to produce.”

J.D.
groaned.

“I
didn’t think so. And I’ll tell you why you didn’t tell her. Because Catrina
Hiett doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body.”

“There
won’t be no kids.”

“You’d
better hope not.”

“When
do we announce the engagement?”

King
considered. “I don’t suppose I can hire Halee McCarthy to arrange your
engagement party?”

“Bad
form. You comin’ to my game tomorrow night?”

King
hesitated, and then smiled as a fresh idea came into his calculating mind. “Oh,
I’ll be there,” he said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”