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Authors: Jaci Burton

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BOOK: Thrown by a Curve
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He nodded. “That’s true. Look, Alicia. I’m sorry.”

He was going out of his way to apologize, and she knew why. But he was going to have to get over his discomfort, and she was, too, so they could get back to the job at hand, which was working on his shoulder. She’d have to smooth things over for both of them. “It’s okay, Garrett. Why don’t you show me around?”

Visibly relieved, Garrett turned and grabbed her bags.

“Bedrooms are this way.” Beyond the workout room were three other rooms. Geez, this house was enormous. There were three good-size bedrooms and the master, which simply took her breath away. Decorated in warm shades, it appealed to her on every level. The king-size bed with its white frame and overhead ceiling fan was so inviting, especially with the killer view of the ocean. And the bathroom was truly something to behold. The shower had jets on both walls, and the oversize tub called to her.

But that was Garrett’s room.

“You can stay in this room,” he said.

She jerked her gaze to his. “No. This is your house. Your room. You’ve already been here a few days. You’re settled in.”

He laughed. “I can crash anywhere.”

“That tub in there will be good for your therapy. So will the shower. I’m the employee, not a guest.”

“And the guest should have the nice room.”

She folded her arms. “No way in hell am I staying in this room. As your therapist, I insist you make use of that delicious shower and inviting tub.”

He inhaled then let it out. “You’re being difficult.”

“No, you’re the one being difficult. I’ll tell you when you need a soak in that tub. And believe me, the further we get into this, the more grateful you’ll be for that tub and shower.”

“Do you always win arguments?”

She grinned. “Not always, but I’m going to win this one.”

“Fine.” He put her in the other large bedroom that had its own private bathroom. Plus, it had a stunning view of the ocean as well. It was lovely, decorated in pale mauves, and was roomy and spacious. Who were these people, anyway?

People with money, obviously.

She unpacked, changed into capris and a tank top, then set out to find Garrett. He was on the back deck.

Despite the shoulder injury, he was still in great form. He hadn’t had to stop his normal workout program, which was good. Staying in shape was paramount to his recovery. Now if she could just get his mind to cooperate with his body, she’d have him back to the fierce competitor he was before he’d torn his rotator cuff.

She walked outside and stood next to him, breathing in the crisp salty air, orienting herself to the new location.

A fresh start. A fresh, professional start.

Garrett watched Alicia breathe and tried not to notice the way her breasts pressed against the skintight top she’d changed into.

He hadn’t seen her for a few days, and despite being busy traveling and then meeting with Phil and Max, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he’d thought about her. That kiss they’d shared in the hotel in Oklahoma had stayed with him, and he’d thought about that a lot, about the way she’d kissed him back, the way her body had responded by surging toward his as if she’d wanted more of what he was offering. His dick twitched every time he thought about that night.

He should probably stop thinking about it.

He had a feeling Alicia wouldn’t appreciate him getting hard right now. He could already sense the cool, professional walls she was trying to put up between them, so he understood what was happening.

Nothing. That’s what was going to happen between them. Yeah, he got that they needed to be focused on his recovery, and getting it on with his therapist, who was also employed by the team? Likely a really bad move, plus it would put her job in danger. He wasn’t an asshole; he knew she liked her job and didn’t want to jeopardize it.

Besides, she wasn’t the only game in town. If he wanted to get laid, there were a lot of ways to get there. He just needed to get his game on elsewhere and leave Alicia alone.

“Just to let you know, Max gave me a pretty thorough workout this morning.”

She finally turned her gaze on him.

“You know, in case you had some of your now-famous torture in mind.”

Her lips lifted. “The only thing I have in mind right now is to get near the ocean. Your therapy starts tomorrow. I’m too jet-lagged to even think about it today.”

“Good. I was thinking more about getting something to eat. How about we do that first, and then we can walk on the beach after?”

She gazed longingly at the beach, but then she nodded. “I’m also starving, and hunger always wins. We’ll eat first.”

“Okay.” He really had missed sparring with her, though. She challenged him, and he enjoyed that. And she was so damn pretty, and she had a smart mouth, and hell, she smelled so fucking good. And then there were her perky breasts . . .

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He blinked. “What?”

“You’re ogling.”

“I was?” He was.

“Yes. And you should stop it.”

He should. But he probably wouldn’t. An employee of the team or not, she had a hot body, just the kind he liked. He couldn’t help noticing it. “So, do you like seafood and pasta?”

She gave him a dubious look. “I love pasta. The seafood I’ll pass on since you know I’m a vegetarian.”

He grinned. “I was just testing to see if you’d converted in the couple of days since I’ve seen you.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Should I change clothes?”

It gave him an opportunity to look her over again. “No, you’re fine for where we’re going.”

They got into his rental car, and he drove down the beach toward town. There was a restaurant on the pier that served the best seafood he’d ever eaten.

“This place isn’t fancy or anything,” he said after he parked in the lot across the street.

“I don’t need fancy. I just need food.”

It was after five now, and he was so hungry they wouldn’t be able to serve him fast enough. He hadn’t eaten lunch, and then there was the workout. He couldn’t go that long without food. He was a big guy.

They got a table near one of the windows, just in time to see the last of the day’s rays disappear.

As soon as the waitress showed up, they grabbed menus and scanned them. Alicia must have been as hungry as he was, because she ordered her food at the same time as her drink. So did he.

“Maybe they’ll bring the food faster,” she said as the waitress wandered off with their order.

“I’d be happy if they brought the salads. Or bread.”

She laughed. “I’m kind of embarrassed to be this hungry. My stomach is growling so loud you can probably hear it.”

“I can’t hear it over my own stomach. And I’m sorry. I should have thought about the food thing as soon as you arrived. We could have gone out to eat right away.”

“It’s okay. I’m a big girl, and I have a voice. I was too busy oohing and ahhing over the house and the beach to even think about food. That’s what usually happens to me.”

“What happens to you?”

“I get busy or distracted, then I forget to eat.”

“That must be how you stay so thin.”

She nodded. “That and my fast metabolism. And running around all the time. I also do yoga, which I love. Plus, my mom is still slender, so it must be a genetic thing. I’m very lucky.”

The waitress brought their salads—and bread—so they both dug in, which meant conversation stopped for the moment. Once he had salad and bread in him, he felt more human.

He sat back and watched Alicia. She enjoyed the whole salad and three pieces of bread.

“You really do burn it off.”

She swallowed then downed some water. “Wait till you see me handle the main course.”

He laughed. He preferred women who liked themselves. There was something about self-confidence that was sexy. Obviously, Alicia didn’t have any problems with her body, at least not that he’d seen.

And when her main course of pasta and vegetables arrived, she ate that with as much gusto as she’d devoured her salad, which meant he was free to dive into his lobster and crab.

Finally full, he sat back and wiped his mouth and hands, and took a drink of iced tea.

“Tell me about your family, Alicia.”

She eyed him warily. “Isn’t that venturing into the personal?”

“Come on. We’re not robots here. We’re spending every day together. Tell me about your family.”

“I have two amazing parents who’ve been married forever and have been very supportive of my career. My brother, Cole, plays football for the Traders, and my cousin Mick plays for San Francisco. He’s married, has a teenage son, and they just had a new baby boy. And you already know Gavin since he plays for your team.”

“So you have an entire family of athletes.”

“Yes.”

“That’s convenient. Did you practice your therapy moves on them?”

She quirked a smile. “As much as they’d let me, which wasn’t often. They much preferred I’d give them massages, which is what they thought the whole sports medicine thing was about.”

“That’s what I used to think it was about, too.”

“Yeah, well, until you’re involved in it, either on the giving or the receiving end, you don’t really know all that goes into it.”

“I guess not.” He took the bill from the waitress and tossed down some cash. They left the restaurant and drove back to the house.

“You ready for that walk now?” Garrett asked.

She looked over at him. “Definitely. I need it after all that food. Let me go grab my sweater.”

She came back with a sweatshirt instead. “Couldn’t find my sweater. I know I packed it.”

“We can go shopping if you need some stuff. There’s a mall a few miles away.”

“You’d offer to shop with me again?”

“Not voluntarily, but if you need something, I don’t mind taking you.”

She shook her head. “How bizarre.”

He opened the back door, and they walked down toward the beach. Alicia threw the sweatshirt over her head.

“How am I bizarre?”

“Men don’t shop. It’s unnatural.”

“I was just offering to drive you there. Didn’t say I’d go shopping or anything.”

“Still, it’s such a nice gesture.”

He glanced over at her as they wandered down the beach. “I’m not even sure how to take that. No guy ever took you to the mall?”

“No.” She slid her hands in the front pockets of her hoodie. “That’s a girl thing.”

He laughed. “You have some strange notions. You do see men at the mall when you’re there, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“And men with women—together.”

“Yes. I’ve just never gone shopping with a guy. Except with you, of course.”

“You do realize I don’t mean to pick out nail polish with you, right?”

She shot him a look. “Uh, yeah. I think I get that.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to take you again, just to prove guys aren’t only interested in sitting in front of the television drinking beer and playing video games.”

She stopped, tilted her head up. “We’re here to work on your shoulder, Garrett. This isn’t a vacation.”

“I don’t think you’re going to spend twenty-four hours a day rehabbing me.”

“You’re right, of course. But you need to wrap your head around the fact that we’re going to push it hard together while we’re here.”

The way she said it made his cock twitch. He should look on her as a professional, but in her oversize hoodie and those stretchy pants that clung to her great ass, it was hard to think about her as a physical therapist. They were going to be alone in a house together, and she was an attractive woman. And that kiss . . .

“You’re doing it again,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me.”

He shook his head. “So, now I’m not supposed to look at you?”

“Not that way.” She turned and headed down the beach.

He watched her ass move as she walked.

He might be her patient, and she might be the therapist, but he was still a man.

And she still had a great ass that was going to be hard for him to ignore.

TEN

ALICIA FIGURED THE BEST WAY TO GET GARRETT TO
stop giving her those looks—the ones that made her heat up from the inside out—was to get started on his therapy routine as quickly as possible.

He’d forgotten how awful it was—how awful she was. A quick reminder should take care of those hot looks he kept giving her.

The sooner he hated her, the quicker he’d regard her as if she were the devil. And she really needed him to hate her, because she sure liked the way he looked at her.

After their walk on the beach last night, she’d come back to the house and gone to her room to finish work on his treatment plan. She’d ended up falling asleep sideways on the bed, and had woken this morning disoriented and still in her clothes. It had taken her a minute to remember where she was.

That’s what a comfortable bed and jet lag did to her.

She took a shower and dressed, then made her way to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee, tapping her fingers on the counter as she breathed in the scent. When she poured a cup and took her first sip, she groaned.

“That good?”

She looked up to find Garrett leaning against the wall.

He must have gone out for a run this morning; he was sweaty and his hair was still damp, curling against his neck. He wore sweats, a sleeveless shirt, and tennis shoes. Her stomach clenched as she drank in the sight of his muscular arms.

Seeing him at the team facility to work on his shoulder was one thing. Living with him and spending every minute of every day with him? Something else entirely.

She wanted to tell him to go away, but she had no valid reason to tell him that other than it bothered the hell out of her that he was so goddamn sexy.

“Yes, it’s that good. Would you like a cup?”

“What I’d really like is orange juice.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

Grateful to have an excuse to turn her back on him, she lifted a glass out of the cabinet and poured one for him.

“Thanks.” And there he was, his body so close she felt some kind of vibration coming off him. She inhaled and breathed him in—the scent of the sea and musky, sweaty male, which unfortunately was not a turnoff to her. Definite sexual chemistry. She was afraid to even look up at him, and she was no coward.

But Garrett Scott represented her job, and if she did her job well, it would be a shot in the arm to her future with the Rivers. As one of the therapists in the lower echelon, she really needed to do well on this. Having the hots for her client was a terrible way to start.

She pushed off the counter.

“I was thinking omelets for breakfast. I know you’re a vegetarian, but do you eat eggs?”

She stopped, turned, forcing herself to face him. “I do. Do you want me to fix your breakfast?”

He laughed. “No. I was going to fix breakfast. Unless you have some objection to that.”

“Uh, no. No objection.”

“Good.” He laid his empty glass in the sink and grabbed a pan from under the counter. “I’m going to make bacon. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”

She couldn’t help the smile that quirked her lips. “I won’t run screaming as long as you don’t make me eat it.”

“Fine. You go work or something. I’ll cook.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“Eggs. I’m going to mix some vegetables in with it. Then I’ll cut up some fruit, too. Would you like some yogurt?”

She sighed. He was just too good at this. She was going to have to keep her distance when she wasn’t working with him. “That all sounds great, but I can help.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

She went into the bedroom and grabbed her notebook, brought it out to the table, and tried to finish up her treatment plan, but it was hard to work when Garrett was cooking. Hot man in the kitchen? There was nothing sexier. He cracked eggs, sliced fruit, and she was certain he sizzled hotter than the bacon, which actually smelled delicious. Too bad she gave up meat five years ago.

She finally couldn’t take doing nothing, so she got up, poured juice, and set the table. By then breakfast was ready, and Garrett filled their plates.

They sat at the table and ate. The omelets were delicious.

“You’re very good at this cooking thing.”

He waved a piece of bacon at her. “Amazing what a guy can do when he has to fend for himself.”

“And you had to fend for yourself a lot?”

“Totally. You should feel sorry for me.”

“This is where you’re going to tell me you were homeless, you had to forage in the streets for food, you survived by using your street smarts, and you were some kind of baseball prodigy. That’s how you got your scholarship, right?”

“You must have read the
Time Magazine
article about me. Dammit, and I wanted to impress you with my backstory. Now you’ve ruined it.”

“Ha ha. Seriously, tell me about your family. I’m sure you were raised by loving parents and you’re as boring as me.”

He laughed and shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth, followed by a couple of gulps of orange juice. “Yeah, just like your story. Very uneventful.”

“I’m so disappointed.”

He grinned. “I’m surprised you’re not weeping into your napkin.”

“So, what you’re telling me is you had a very happy childhood, raised by two parents who adore each other, and there are no skeletons in your closet.”

He popped a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. “That’s me. I’m pretty dull.”

She finished her omelet and set it aside. “That’s not what I’ve read. I read that you love to party, all women adore you and want to have your babies, but you steadfastly remain single. You haven’t had a single serious relationship despite your immense popularity with the opposite sex, and you’ll be turning thirty this year.”

“Ancient, I know. I might as well hang it up now.”

“Usually, all the sports studs carry on with some famous actress or model.”

“And yet here I am, unattached.”

“Maybe you’re gay.”

He arched a brow, searing her with his gaze. “Give me an hour in the bedroom and I’ll prove that theory wrong.”

Alicia’s entire body went up in flames. She knew she shouldn’t have baited Garrett that way, but they were having such an easy, fun conversation. He liked teasing her, and despite her attempts at wanting to establish boundaries with him, she couldn’t help but respond to him. So she teased him back. All the distance she’d tried to create had evaporated with that one comment.

The look he’d given her, the way he’d said the words, and the challenge in them filled her mind with images of what he could do with her in the bedroom during that hour.

She realized it had been a very, very long dry spell for her in the sex department. Between finishing up her master’s and getting her certification, then interning and working, sex had been more or less an afterthought for a long time. It was only natural for her body—and her mind—to want to jump all over the first really hot guy she was stuck in close quarters with. And she and Garrett had been together a lot—with her focus on his body. Of course she would feel connected to him in such a physical way.

Unfortunately, said hot guy attached to said hot body was most definitely off-limits.

“So . . . you game?”

She realized he was still watching her in a rather predatory fashion.

She blinked a few times to clear her head of all those dirty thoughts her mind had conjured up. “What? Game for what?”

“Me proving my utter heterosexuality to you.”

“Uh, no. Definitely not.”

He laughed. “I thought not. You’ll just have to take my word for it, then.”

She didn’t need to take his word for it. He’d already proved it once when he’d kissed her. The memory of just how much of a man he was had been seared into every part of her body.

He got up and cleared the table. At a loss for a comeback, she helped him, nudging him out of the way so she could do the dishes.

“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

“Sounds like a deal. I need a shower, anyway.”

When he left the room, she exhaled. Maybe his disappearance would allow her pulse rate to return to normal. Though she didn’t know what to do about her tingling nipples and throbbing pussy. That problem would likely have to be solved in the privacy of her bedroom tonight.

Or maybe Garrett would let her borrow his amazing shower with all those pulsing jets. She could have one hell of an orgasm in no time at all if she could direct one of those jets in the direction of her clit.

And once again, she thought of him in the shower, where he was right now. Only she was thinking of climbing in the shower with him, wrapping her hand around his cock, and massaging his ache at the same time she got herself off.

She’d wager that, like the rest of him, his cock was spectacular and that when he got hard, he knew exactly what to do with it. As she slipped her hands under the hot water, sliding a plate under to rinse it, she thought of what his cock would feel like as the shower water poured over both of them. Garrett’s hands would smooth down her back to cup her butt, drawing her closer to his erection. She’d spread her legs so he could spear his cock inside her, shoving her against the wall as he did.

Sex with him would be hard. Passionate. All consuming. Oh so satisfying.

Her pussy clenched at the mental visual, and she drew closer to the kitchen counter, needing an orgasm so badly that just about any type of friction would get her there. But her hands were wet, and she had no idea how fast a shower Garrett took, so she wouldn’t chance it. If she were alone, she wouldn’t care. She’d dip her wet hands down the front of her shorts and take care of the matter right here. In her current state it wouldn’t take long to get off.

If she hurried and finished the dishes, she could run into the bedroom and take care of this problem, and then maybe she could concentrate on her job instead of thinking about Garrett and his hot, thick—

“I feel a lot better now.”

She whirled around, water flying everywhere. “What? I was just doing dishes.”

His lips curved as he walked in. “I see that. Need some help?”

“No. Just finishing up with the last pan here.” Her cheeks flushed hot, but she had no idea why she was blushing. Garrett had no idea that she’d been fantasizing about him, so she needed to calm down. She finished washing the pan and dried her hands.

“I’m going to . . . uh . . . brush my teeth and floss. I’ll be right back.”

He looked up from the spot he’d taken on the sofa. “Sure.”

She fled down the hall and shut the door to the bedroom, locking it behind her.

Two minutes. That’s all she needed. An ease of tension, a release. Once she got that, she’d stop thinking about him, and she’d be normal again, instead of some crazy, libido-driven lunatic on the verge of a breakdown.

She lay down on the bed and took a deep breath, blew it out, then slid her hand inside her shorts.

She was still hot, bothered, and throbbing; the mere touch of her hand on her pussy sent her hips arching upward. She bit back the moan, though the bedroom was a long way from the living room. She could probably scream out loud, and Garrett wouldn’t hear her. But she wasn’t confident he’d stay in there, so she kept quiet as she skated her fingers over her swollen flesh. She closed her eyes, imagining Garrett pushing her up against the kitchen counter, dragging her shorts down, and putting his mouth on her aching sex.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, right there.”

He had a sexy mouth, and she wanted it on her pussy. She bit down on her lip and rubbed her clit, already so close to coming she dug her heels into the mattress. But she wanted to delay, just a few more seconds, to enjoy the buildup as she envisioned him dipping two fingers inside her while he captured her clit between his lips. And when she tucked her fingers into her pussy, she couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped, nor could she suppress the cry of delight as she released, tunneling her fingers deep and using the heel of her hand to rub against her clit.

She let her hips fall against the bed and breathed in and out, realizing that all she’d done was take the edge off.

The desire, the need—it was still there.

*   *   *

FUCK. GARRETT KNEW HE SHOULDN’T HAVE GONE TOWARD
his room. If he’d stayed in the living room, he wouldn’t have walked down the hall past Alicia’s bedroom, wouldn’t have heard the clear moan she’d made, wouldn’t have figured out that she was in there masturbating.

His cock had gone fully hard in about three fucking seconds. And like some goddamn voyeur, instead of giving her privacy to get off, he’d lingered by the door and listened, hoping to hear more. He heard her breathing, whispering, and gasping when she came.

He’d never heard anything sweeter or anything that had turned him on more. As soon as he heard her moving around he’d hustled back out to the living room, then realized he should have gone to his room and jacked off. Now he had a hard-on he needed to get rid of in a hurry. But what if he tried to go to his room now, and she came out? It would be difficult to explain the erection sprouting in his pants. Alicia was smart—she’d figure out he’d overheard her.

So now he was stuck sitting on the sofa with a fucking pillow on his lap, feeling like a dumbass.

No good ever came from eavesdropping.

He just needed to breathe and think about unpleasant things.

Like therapy. And maybe never pitching again. Letting his team and his fans down.

Yeah, that took care of his erection.

Until Alicia came out of the bedroom, doing her best to look innocent, like nothing had happened. Except he’d been with plenty of women in his life, and he’d given a lot of them orgasms. And that rosy-cheeked look on her face was a dead giveaway.

“Sorry,” she said, not meeting his gaze. “I finished unpacking while I was in there.”

Since his balls were tied up in knots, he was a little resentful of her happy, I-just-came-and-you-didn’t glow. “Hope it all went okay in there.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Huh?”

“I mean, are there enough hangers? Do you have enough closet space?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s an awesome bedroom.”

Yeah, it had sounded pretty awesome.

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