Girl Three (38 page)

The reality he’d ignored hit him like a wild pitch: he needed the Nationals. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone again.

Frank picked up his phone, tapped the screen, and glanced at the tweet. “That’s why this date with the Sutherland girl sets up perfect for us.”

Cole finally took a bite of his burrito. He couldn’t argue that this was a good time for him to be associated with the BADD Athletes Foundation, but he wondered why Liza Sutherland had surfaced all of a sudden.

He hadn’t seen her since they were teenagers—and he was curious how she’d grown up. “Let me see that tweet again.” Frank handed him the phone. He tapped the link to Liza’s profile, and her picture came up. One glance at her and his pulse fired like a home-run headed for the upper deck.

Holy…

The woman he saw looked nothing like the girl he remembered. She had long, dark red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a pretty, genuine smile. Cole figured her for a city girl, but she had a kind of small-town innocent look that was hard to find anymore. He couldn’t believe she was the same girl who’d hung around her father’s baseball camp for weeks, just for him.

He read her profile: Manager of Camp Operations for the BADD Athletes Foundation.

So she worked organizing the same kind of camps where they’d met. Cole totally respected that, especially considering all the more glamorous opportunities her parents could’ve hooked her up with. Cole winced at the thought of John and Sylvia Sutherland, but he knew better than to dwell on them. His rocky past with Liza’s folks had nothing to do with her.

“You don’t look too thrilled,” Frank said. “The way I see it, we coulda done much worse.”

“For sure.” Cole stole another glance at Liza’s picture. “I’m okay with it.” And why wouldn’t he be? Liza Sutherland was smokin’ hot.

Frank nodded. “The girl’s a looker—good job, solid family. We can forgive ’em this once for being in the tank for the Orioles.” He smiled. Anyone who liked baseball was all right with him—they kept business going and money streaming in.

“No need to worry about her job or her family,” Cole said. “It’s just one date.” He took a bite of his burrito, enjoying the tender steak and creamy cheese, until Frank’s raised-eyebrow look made him stop chewing. “What?” he murmured through a mouthful.

“This Sutherland girl works for drug-free BADD.” Frank took a swallow of his Bloody Mary and licked his lips. “Going out with her will make it look like you’re cleaning up your act. Besides, she’s our chance to prove you’re settling down, at least until we get your contract negotiated.”

“Whoa. I’m not sure what you mean by that, but I’m sure I don’t like the idea.” He gave Frank a serious stare. “Listen, we’ve already gotten the positive publicity from the BADD donation, and the timing couldn’t have been better. One date—we’re good. I promise I’ll behave after that.” He winked.

Frank looked at him as if he was sixteen kinds of crazy. “We’re talking about your future, son. Seven years you’ve spent toiling your way to the top. You’re twenty-nine, and not getting any younger.” Frank shrugged his broad shoulders. “But with two All-Star seasons under your belt, a Gold Glove, and a Silver Slugger, we can name your price—as long as you make it look like your partying-and-playboy days are done.”

Cole flinched. “I hear you.” And I know you’re right. He let out a long, labored sigh. “It needs to look like I’m settling down.” At least for a couple of months.

“Bingo.” Frank stared him in the eye. “No other women except Liza Sutherland. And it wouldn’t hurt your cause if you went and did something traditional like fall in love…propose…get married. ”

Cole groaned as nerves knotted his stomach. He’d sat down at this breakfast free and single. Before he could even eat a burrito, Frank had him set up on a date, faithful to one woman, in love, engaged, and married. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself, man.”

Frank splayed his hands on either side of his plate, straightened his back, and leaned forward. “How bad do you want a new contract with the Nats, son?”

Cole raked his hand through his hair and grabbed a fistful of it in the back. After a moment he said, “There’s nothing I want more.”

Frank tossed his napkin on the table and relaxed in his seat. “Well, there you go.”

The waitress stopped by and asked, “Anything else for you gentlemen?”

Looking pleased with himself, Frank nodded and smiled. “I’ll have a homemade peanut-butter-and-bacon pop tart to go.”

The thought of eating peanut butter and bacon in the same mouthful made Cole’s stomach a little queasy. So did the idea of settling down. But after the waitress left, he pushed his plate aside and propped his elbows on the table. “You’ve never steered me wrong before, Frank. So I’m willing to play along with your plan.” He cleared his throat. “But we’ve got to find a different girl.” Because things are a little complicated between me and Liza Sutherland’s folks. “Liza would never go for this.”

“No can do,” Frank said without hesitation. “I coulda personally recruited a bunch of ladies and not come up with a more wholesome gal—she’s perfect for what we need.”

About the Author

Award-winning author Tracy March writes romantic thrillers influenced by her career in the pharmaceutical field and her interest in science and politics. She also writes lighthearted romances inspired by her real-life happily ever after.

Always up for travel and adventure, Tracy has flown in a stunt plane, snowmobiled on the Continental Divide, zip lined in the Swiss Alps, and been chased by a bull in the mountains of St. Lucia. She loves Nationals baseball, Saturday date nights, and Dairy Queen Blizzards—and rarely goes a day without Diet Coke and Cheez-Its.

Tracy lives in Yorktown, Virginia with her superhero husband, who works for NASA. They recently spent two years living in Washington, D.C., and enjoy visiting often—especially when the Nats are in town.

Visit Tracy online at
www.TracyMarch.com
.