Thrown by a Curve (11 page)

He didn’t meet her gaze. “It was a long time ago. Both my parents have moved on.”

She leaned back. “How so?”

“My mom remarried about five years ago. Nice guy she met where she works.”

“Oh, good for her.”

He smiled. Finally. “Yeah. She really loves Henry. And he treats her like a precious diamond.”

“So you obviously approve of him as a stepfather.”

He laughed. “Yeah, he’s great. And he loves baseball, which is a plus. Though he’s a Los Angeles fan, so I have to deduct points.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Well, yes, I could see how that would detract from his overall score. But I’m glad she’s found happiness.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“What about your father?”

“He married the woman he cheated on my mom with. Like less than a year after he and my mom divorced.”

“Oh.” She let that settle a bit and worked on her meal. Garrett didn’t offer up further details on his dad and stepmother. She wondered if he saw his father at all or if he’d cut all ties. She didn’t want to ask, and obviously, he didn’t want to talk about his dad, so she let it be.

Their plates were cleared, and they both declined dessert. Garrett paid the bill, and they left the restaurant and headed back to the house. He was quiet on the ride back. Alicia knew he must be thinking about his parents. Pain like that didn’t just go away, especially if you never dealt with it.

When they got back to the house, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out onto the back deck. She opened a bottle of water and followed him.

It was a nice night. A little breezy, so she went back inside and put her sweater on, kicked her sandals off, and pulled her feet up onto the chaise, content to listen to the sounds of the ocean waves. Garrett leaned against the deck post, his back to her, giving her a chance to admire his great ass without him being aware of it.

She was worried about him. She could tell he wasn’t relaxed as he took a swallow of beer and set it down on the deck rail. His shoulders were tight, his stance rigid.

Tension wasn’t going to help his therapy. She pushed off the chair and came next to him.

“Are your muscles feeling tight?”

He looked up at her. “If I say no, will you leave me alone?”

She laughed. “That means yes. Come on. Let me give you a good stretch. It’ll ease some of that tension.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, whatever, wuss. Suck it up.”

She went into her bedroom, slipped out of her dress and into her yoga pants and a tank top so she’d be more comfortable. When she went into the workout room, Garrett was already there, shirtless and in low-slung sweatpants.

He still made her knees weak, but she swallowed and took a sip of water, mentally readying herself.

She put Garrett through the thirty-minute stretching session. He gritted his teeth and endured it, but he was tight, and his body was tense. When she finished, he sat up and grabbed a towel to wipe down his face and body.

“How about a massage?” she suggested.

He slanted a glance her way. “I thought that was against your rules.”

“You’re tense. You look like you could use it.”

He grabbed a bottle of water and downed it in two swallows. “I’m fine.”

He was not fine. “A massage will relax you. Therapist’s orders.”

He let out a resigned sigh. “Sure.”

She set up the massage table with towels.

“Facedown,” she said.

He smirked at her.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Nothing appropriate, anyway.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know.” He climbed onto the table, and she got out her massage lotion then turned on some music.

He lifted his head and looked up at her. “Really? You’re going to play that new age shit?”

“Well, yes. It’s very calming and relaxing.”

“It’ll put me to sleep.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you sleeping while I massage you.”

“I don’t really feel like sleeping right now. How about something a little edgier?”

She leaned her hip against the table. “Edgier doesn’t seem very relaxing, Garrett.”

He lifted up on his forearms and shot her a grin. “Maybe not to you.”

“Okay. I’ll find something . . . edgier.”

She scrolled through her music until she hit something that rocked.

“That’ll do,” he said, and put his face down on the table.

Nope. Not relaxing at all, but if that worked for Garrett, so be it.

“I’m going to put some heat on your injured shoulder first. That way by the time I get to that part, it’ll be warmed up and ready for me.”

He lifted his head again. “God, you’re not going to stretch the fuck out of it again, are you?”

Her lips curved. “No, I’m not going to stretch it. This will be a gentle massage. I promise.”

“Good.”

She put the heating pad on his shoulder then mentally centered herself by breathing in then out. After rubbing the lotion between her hands to warm it, she started in the center of his upper back and worked her way down, wanting to save his shoulder for last because she knew that’s where the worst tension would be.

She was going to make him feel better and melt the knots in all his muscles. And maybe help him relax.

Though touching him like this wasn’t going to be relaxing for her.

At. All.

TWELVE

GARRETT WASN’T MUCH FOR MASSAGE, THOUGH A LOT
of his teammates swore by it. A lot of the guys got weekly massages to help with their sore muscles. Garrett just got in the whirlpool or a hot shower and otherwise sucked it up.

But Alicia was right. Talking about his parents tonight had knotted up the tension between his shoulder blades, and now his shoulder hurt. Of course some of that probably had to do with the way Alicia worked him in their therapy sessions.

Not that he’d tell her that. She was tougher on him than any of his previous therapists had been. He’d wanted to cry. And he never cried.

He hoped to hell whatever she was doing to him would result in some good. Because he’d take whatever pain she dished out if it put him back on the mound.

Right now, though? Whatever she was doing back there was pure pleasure. He focused on the sweep of her soft hands over his back, the way she seemed to target every sore muscle, coaxing it into submission with her thumb or the heel of her hand.

He’d tried massage once or twice before and always seemed to get some tiny little woman who seemed nice but then proceeded to employ some Marquis de Sade technique of massage, determined to outdo her peers in how much they could hurt their clients.

Alicia didn’t do it that way. Her hands glided over his back until he couldn’t help but let out a groan of pure pleasure.

She rolled her fist down his spine, all the way to where his sweats rested low on his ass. He wanted her hands all over his body, rubbing him down front and back.

When she took the heating pad off and smoothed her hands over both his shoulders, he sank deeper into the cushioned table.

“You have magic hands.”

She laughed. “Sure I do.”

“No, really. This is a great massage.”

“Your muscles are cooperating. Be quiet now. You shouldn’t talk while I’m massaging you. Take deep breaths, in and out.”

No, he shouldn’t talk. He shouldn’t think, especially not about Alicia. If he thought about her, about her hands moving over his body, and about what he’d really like her hands to be doing, he’d end up getting hard.

And if it wasn’t bad enough feeling her, he had to listen to her, to the sounds she made as she touched him. Just hearing her breathe turned him on.

It sounded like sex, made him think about thrusting as she put force against his muscles. And when she exhaled . . .

Jesus. He really had to stop mixing Alicia and sex together. This was what happened when his mind went blank and he relaxed.

The music was pumping, but it wasn’t helping to take his mind off Alicia, her hands, and the sounds she made. If he could sing a note himself, he would, but that would only send her screaming from the room, so that was out.

She leaned down to put a little pressure on his muscles. He caught a whiff of her perfume. No, not perfume. Soap or shampoo, maybe. Something citrusy. He sucked in a breath.

She stopped. “Is that a rough spot?”

He gritted his teeth. “No. I’m fine.”

She laid her palms flat and moved down his back, then up.

“Talk to me, Alicia.” Maybe if they carried on a conversation, he’d stop visualizing.

“You shouldn’t be talking. You should be breathing. Deep, even breaths that’ll carry oxygen to your muscles.”

“I’m not talking. I want you to talk.”

She paused. “Is it so difficult for you to relax?”

“Yeah. I like conversation.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. I know about Gavin since we play together. Is that how you got interested in sports medicine?”

“Sort of. I watched a lot of sports when I was younger, obviously. The family is entrenched in sports with Cole and my cousin Mick playing football, and Gavin in baseball. Even the girls always played sports.”

“The girls?”

“My cousin Jenna and I.”

“What sports did you play?”

“I was on the dance team. And I played tennis and golf.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “You like golf?”

“I can play.”

He sat up.

She frowned. “We’re not finished.”

“My muscles are relaxed. Let’s talk golf. You didn’t tell me you played that weekend we were in Oklahoma.”

She shrugged. “You didn’t ask me. Besides, no way would I have played in that weather. Too cold for me.”

He laughed. “For me, too. So, you think you’re good, huh?”

“No, I don’t think I’m good. I
am
good.”

“We should play.”

She folded her arms. “You think you’re ready to swing a club?”

“I don’t know. You’re the therapist. Am I?”

She studied him for a bit then said, “Actually, it would be good for your shoulder, help loosen you up for pitching. We should play.”

If there was one thing Garrett loved, it was competition. “Good. I’ll arrange a tee time.”

“I don’t have my clubs with me.”

“Neither do I, so we’re both at a disadvantage.”

“Fine. We’ll play. Now lie back down. I’m not finished with you yet.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Honestly, I feel fine.”

She pointed to the table. “Lie down. I haven’t given you the full Alicia Riley massage yet.”

He wanted to groan. Any more of her hands on him and he’d be hard the rest of the night. “No, really.”

She gave him that glare he was getting used to seeing. The one that meant she was going to win, so he might as well not argue.

“Okay. Geez.”

He flipped over, and she put more lotion on her hands then went back to work on him, this time spreading his arms out and rolling her hands over his biceps. Admittedly, that felt really good. She hit the rough spots and melted away the last of his soreness from the therapy today. But her touch and scent still set him off, so while he was relaxed, he was still keenly aware of her.

“That should do it,” she finally said.

He stood and stretched. Alicia looked at him then quickly turned away. “All right, then. I’ll just clean up in here, and you can head out. You should drink more water.”

“Why?”

“Massage releases toxins and can make you sweat. The water will replenish you.”

“Fine.”

Maybe he wasn’t the only one aware. He’d caught her checking out his abs—and lower. His cock tingled at the thought, but he brushed it aside. In these sweats hiding an erection wouldn’t be possible. He left the room and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, downed it in a few gulps, then stepped outside for some air.

Alicia was right. He’d broken out into a sweat, and the cool night breeze helped.

“Feeling all right?”

He turned to her. “Yeah. Feeling great now. Thanks for the massage.”

“You’re welcome.” She took a sip of water, then laid her glass on the table and took a seat.

He parked it on the top step, turning so he was half facing her, half facing the ocean.

“If I lived here, I don’t think I’d ever leave the house,” she said. “This place has a definite allure.”

“It’s great, but I think you’d get bored.”

She laughed. “Remember where I grew up. This is heaven. The salt in the air, the amazing view of the ocean that never ends. Long walks on the beach. I doubt I could ever get bored with a place like this. Of course it’s a wee bit out of my price range.”

“You never know. You could end up becoming famous in sports medicine, and having a place like this would be chump change for you.”

“Thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“For thinking I could afford a place like this someday as opposed to thinking I’d marry someone rich who’d buy it for me.”

He laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re a force to be reckoned with, Alicia. I don’t think you’ll ever need a man to take care of you, financially or otherwise.”

“Thank you again. You’re just full of compliments tonight.”

“Well, I’m full of something.”

Her lips lifted, and then she stared off into the darkness. But when she rolled her wrists and flexed her hands, he frowned.

“Did the massage make your hands hurt?”

She looked down at her hands and laid them in her lap. “No, I’m fine. Just releasing the tension in them. It’s a normal practice.”

He got up and went over to her chair, then kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself working on me.”

She let out a soft laugh that made his balls quiver. “I don’t hurt myself. It’s my job.”

“Your job has to be hard on your hands.” He massaged them, rubbing his thumbs over her wrists.

“Oh, God, that feels good. Now who’s the masseuse?”

He liked making her feel good. It surprised him how much he liked making her feel good. He didn’t want her to hurt in order to fix him. “How hard is therapy on you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What you do to me—stretching my muscles or tendons—that takes some power, and you’re not exactly a big person. How hard is that on your body?”

“I’m trained to do it, Garrett. I don’t hurt myself.”

He flexed her wrists. “Yeah, but who gives you a massage at the end of the day?”

“I don’t need one.”

“I’ll bet you get sore working on athletes. I know what our bodies feel like. You’re working on some hard muscles. And after this injury I’ve studied some anatomy—you’re having to work with tendons and capsules and some of that other shit. You have to dig pretty deep—that’s why what you do to me hurts so damn bad, right?”

She studied him. “It’s good that you’re so well-informed. It helps your recovery. But honestly, there’s nothing wrong with my hands.” She pulled them away from him and wriggled her fingers and flexed her wrists. “See? They’re just fine.”

He didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”

She made a move to stand, so he stood to get out of her way. “I’m positive. I haven’t been at this as long as some of the veteran therapists. Now they might have some issues after years and years of practice. But me? I’m fine. I take good care of myself.”

“Turn around.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Turn around.”

“Why?”

“I want to see if you’re as tight as I was.”

“Absolutely not. You don’t get to be my therapist. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

Ignoring her, he spun her around, and before she could object, he laid his hands on her. He was no expert, but he instantly zeroed in on the rock-hard muscles between her neck and shoulders.

“Just as I thought. Your muscles are tightened up.”

She fought to turn around, but he pinned her between the chair and his body.

“Garrett. You are absolutely not going to rub my shoulders. Do you know how much money your arm is worth?”

“Yeah. My agent broke it down for me by the number of years of my contract. And then by month. She was very thorough.”

“Exactly.”

“And if I want to give a massage, I can.” He was already pressing in on her skin, using his thumbs and fingers to try and release the tension. “Just think of it as more therapy for me.”

“I’m thinking you’re not listening to me.”

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t always take direction well.”

Having her close like this was the worst form of self-torture. His nose was in her hair, and that citrusy smell drove him crazy. Her skin was soft, and with her butt nestled up against his crotch, he was going to have to do some calculations of earned run averages in order to avoid getting hard.

Alicia kept taking deeper breaths, which propelled her body closer to his. And she’d stopped talking—not a good sign. That meant she was concentrating on the movement of his hands. She either really liked the massage, or she had noticed what was going on in his pants. He took a step back, and she cleared her throat, lifted his hands off her shoulders, and turned around.

Big mistake. Because there it was, the erection that couldn’t be avoided. And her focus went right to it, then her gaze shot to his, all wide-eyed and shocked.

“Um, we should go to bed.”

He lifted a brow.

“Not together, of course. That would be . . . totally inappropriate. I mean, I’m going to bed. In my room. Alone. Thank you for the massage. It was great. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She moved past him, her body brushing the tip of his cock as she did. It was painful and exciting at the same time.

It was like being fourteen years old again, caught in the locker room with a hard-on because he’d been fantasizing about Miss Smith, the hot twenty-three-year-old gym teacher who’d given them all wet dreams. How many times had he—hell, all the boys—tried to disguise erections when they’d been running track while Miss Smith had stood out in the center of the field working with the girls?

But he wasn’t an awkward teenager anymore. He was old enough to control his libido around a desirable woman, especially a woman he had a working relationship with.

Fuck. He dragged his fingers through his hair and walked down the steps, deciding he needed a walk by the ocean to cool down his raging hormones.

He stood on the beach, his cock hard and throbbing and seemingly in no hurry to go flaccid.

Great. If he could just get thoughts of Alicia’s body, her scent, out of his head, he’d go soft.

Instead, his head was filled with her, and his cock stayed hard. How was he going to explain that if he ran into her when he went back inside? She was already nervous and skittish around him, and waving his erection around would no doubt send her packing. He didn’t want to scare her off.

Maybe he’d just jack off here at the edge of the ocean. There were no other homes within miles of this secluded beach property, no boats out on the water, which gave him plenty of privacy. He was hard and aching, and it wouldn’t take much time to get off.

He drew his sweats partway down and pulled out his cock, taking it firmly in his grasp. It jerked in his hand, and he rolled his thumb over the head.

Garrett imagined Alicia walking out right now, seeing him like this. He knew how she’d likely react, but he imagined how he’d want her to react.

He’d want her to drop to her knees and put her mouth on him. His balls tightened at the mental image of her lips surrounding the swollen head, her tongue flicking out to lick up the pearly drops of fluid that spilled from the tip.