Too Hot to Handle: A Boys of Summer Novel (3 page)

Nikki settled in for the game. She had to admit that for her it was like watching paint dry. Pete had given her a scorecard so she was able to understand what was going on and enter in the stats: who got a hit, who stole a base, and how the pitcher was doing. After a couple of innings she was starting to get the hang of the whole thing, even as she suppressed a yawn.

Yet she felt Jake Baldwin’s eyes on her like a pair of hot pokers searing into her back. Since he was benched, he couldn’t play, but that didn’t stop him from riding the other players, commenting on the opposing team, and critiquing the action. To her surprise, his teammates didn’t seem annoyed. It was almost as if they expected his commentary and looked forward to it.

When the Angels took the lead, Pete shrugged in resignation. “Kinda happens all the time when Jake isn’t playing,” he explained. “That’s why he’s our leadoff hitter.”

“What do you mean?” Nikki looked up from her clipboard.

“Just that,” Pete said simply. “Every team has one guy that’s the spark, the fire that gets the rest of them going. For us that’s Jake. When he’s in a rhythm and in the right mood, he gets the rest of the guys on board without even trying. A leadoff hit from Jake sets the tone. It builds the confidence of the other players, and they come to the plate expecting to win.”

“I see. So they are struggling today because he’s been benched?”

“Yep. Not much I can do about it. I agree he needs more discipline.”

“Is he lazy?” Nikki peered over her glasses at the player behind her.

“Not at all.” Pete laughed and blew a huge pink bubble. Deftly, he deflated the gum and snapped it back into his mouth. “Cocky’s more like it. He knows how good he is. When Jake’s motivated, no one works harder. He just doesn’t take himself or life too seriously.”

“I remember some of the things he said to the press last year. About how great this team was and everyone else had better watch out. Created quite a controversy.” Nikki shuddered visibly.

“But you see the effect it has on the rest of the ball club. What he said made the new guys believe they could do it, they could get there. That’s huge. He’s kind of the heart of the Sonics.”

“All the more reason he needs to clean up his act.” Nikki tapped the clipboard with her pen. “Obviously he’s someone they look up to. If we can get him to set the right example, the others will follow.”

“Agreed. Just hope he sticks with the team. Contract’s up this year and New York’s watching.”

“Do you think he’d leave?”

Pete shrugged. “Depends on the offer. I hope he doesn’t, but that’s baseball.”

The Sonics made a frenzied effort to come from behind in the bottom of the ninth. But in the end, it was useless. The wheels came off the bullpen, the bats appeared tired, and the Angels gave them the spanking they deserved.

The reporters swarmed the field, looking for a story. Nikki left Pete’s side and wandered about, listening to the questions and the answers given. Most of them made her wince, and a few of them caused her to actually grimace in disgust.

But when she heard the relief pitcher, Antonio Chavez, try his best to address the media, her heart went out to him. It was obvious that English was not his first language, and as he struggled, the reporter did everything he could to trip him up.

“So Tony, why do you think the game fell apart? Was it the hitting? Or was it that you just couldn’t get your location?”

Nikki’s chin squared. A question like that could get a player into a lot of trouble. And it was clear that Antonio wasn’t sure what was being said. But before she could step between the ballplayer and the newsman, Jake interrupted.

“What seems to be the problem here, Bob?”

“Was just asking a few questions.” The reporter shrugged innocently.

“Ah,” Jake said, understanding immediately. “Then you don’t mind if I join you.”

The reporter looked deflated, as if someone had just taken all the fun out of the day. But with Nikki staring him down and Jake tied to Antonio’s hip, there was nothing he could do but proceed with the interview.

“So what happened?”

“Spring training is the time to try different things,” Jake said before the pitcher could comment. “For instance, that slider is a new pitch for Tony. You really want to practice under these circumstances when the team has nothing to lose. Right, Tony?”

“Sí.”
Antonio mentally translated Jake’s words and then smiled enthusiast
ically. “I mean yes. What he said. He express me very well.”

The reporter grumbled, forced to scribble down his response. “But it seemed you were a lot less confident once the heavy hitters came to bat. How do you explain that?”

“He doesn’t give a damn who came to the plate,” Jake said, his annoyance apparent. “Parker was lucky with that hit in the ninth. That’s all. I think that’s enough for today.”

Jake put his arm around the pitcher and led him off, speaking to him softly in Spanish, and then translating into English. Realizing he was not about to get a story, the reporter gave a shrug and moved on.

Well, well, well,
Nikki thought curiously. She could hear Jake coaching the Hispanic pitcher, explaining what the reporter was trying to do and how to talk to the press in a way that he wouldn’t get tripped up.

For all that Jake Baldwin appeared not to give a damn about anything, apparently he did care about something.

His team.

When the media left the field, several of the players including Jake made their way to the tiki bar. Nikki, her briefcase and clipboard in tow, arrived there with Pete a few minutes later.

“Do they always do this?” She indicated the Sonics players in attendance.

Pete glanced around the bar and saw Jake and Ryan talking with a couple of the fans. A few minutes later, Jake was signing a ball while Ryan scribbled his name across a few grainy photographs.

“Sometimes.” Pete shrugged. “It’s good for the fans to have a chance to talk to the players, get some souvenirs before things get crazy.”

“I don’t agree.” Nikki made another note. “They need to be cognizant of their image at all times, and shouldn’t give autographs away. If our plans work out the way we hope, that baseball and those photos will be worth some money one day and should be treated that way. I also don’t think it’s a good idea for the players to be photographed at a bar. The fans need to think they’re taking the season seriously.”

As if on cue, the bartender, a gorgeous bikini-clad blonde, put an upside-down shot glass in front of Pete and Nikki.

“From Jake,” she said, nodding toward him. “He wants to buy you a drink.”

Nikki’s gaze searched him out from across the counter. The shortstop raised his glass to her as if in a toast. Pete was already ordering a beer, but Nikki sent hers back.

That didn’t deter Jake from sauntering over, clapping a fond hand on Pete’s shoulder as he pulled up a vacant stool.

“No hard feelings?” Pete asked, obviously indicating what had happened earlier.

“Nope. I deserved it. From now on I plan to be a model citizen.”

Pete choked on his beer even as Nikki shot him a look. Jake gave her a charming smile. “You don’t drink?”

“Not in the middle of the day. And not when I have work to do.” She gestured to her notes.

“What about on your time off?” The grin deepened. “I hope you don’t work all night long?”

“No,” she said, thrusting out her chin in a real New Jersey “what you gonna do about it?” look. “I don’t work all night. I give myself a couple hours sleep for good behavior.”

“Glad to hear it.” He pulled the chair up closer, and Pete seemed to lean back, giving him space. “Do you like seafood? ’Cause I know a good place nearby.”

She glanced at him in astonishment. She had rebuffed him firmly, but it seemed the man never gave up. “Does this really work for you with girls?”

“Usually.” Jake gave her a wicked smile. “But only the intelligent ones.”

His eyes were alight with some naughty thought, and she fought a surge of heat as he seemed to mentally undress her. Nikki stood up, grabbed her briefcase and her notes, and then turned to Pete. “I’m going to put this all together tonight, and we can talk about my recommenda
tions tomorrow. Work for you?”

The head coach nodded and finished his beer. “Sure.”

She headed out and never looked behind her. Jake and Pete exchanged a glance. “Tough broad,” was Pete’s only comment.

Ryan had observed the exchange. “Strike two,” the first baseman said with a grin. “And you know how it is in baseball.”

“Yeah, yeah. Three strikes you’re out. But this is just a foul.”

Jake stared in the direction where Nikki had disappeared. Nursing his beer, he pictured the stunning brunette who was wrapped tighter than a tourniquet.

Although he’d never admit it to Ryan, he was intrigued. Not because she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen; pretty girls, in his opinion, were a dime a dozen. And it wasn’t just because she wasn’t easy, although that was part of it. It had been a long time since he’d had to work for a date, and he was more than up for the challenge. He wondered what it would take to crack that icy façade and get to know the real Nikki Case.

But he also admired the fact that she was her own woman. Nikki appeared to be as passionate and committed to her job as he was to his. He found that to be incredibly sexy. Too many of the women he dated just seemed to be waiting for some proverbial knight in shining armor to take care of them. When he asked about their career, he would get vague answers like “consulting,” or that they were between jobs. Most of them seemed to have no identity and were just looking to hitch their wagon to his star.

This woman, he could tell, lived, breathed, and slept public relations. He wasn’t surprised when Pete said she was the best in her field. He wondered if the intensity she had for her work translated into the same passion in bed.

Nikki Case was like a good work of art: complex and interesting, revealing more with every second glance. And even though it started as a silly bet, the notion of pursuing her and winning her was damned appealing. It was going to take work, patience, strategy, and a refusal to be intimidated by rejection.

All of which he had in spades.

Nikki wasn’t at all surprised over the next few days when the players began to appear on the field unshaven, long-haired, and wearing yesterday’s filthy uniform. She’d expected defiance; after all, their habits had taken years to form. Even the threat of discipline didn’t seem to matter; several members of the team showed up fashionably late, and Roger Adams, the designated hitter, not at all.

Surprisingly, though, Jake was there on time. His uniform was spotless, and he was clean-cut and clean-shaven. Nikki didn’t know if he was trying to win her favor, but she doubted it. From the information in her files, Jake usually took pride in his appearance.

But she couldn’t say that for the others. They looked like a bunch of barnyard roosters scratching in the dirt. They didn’t understand the perception that lateness and a scruffy appearance meant a team that was less than the best. It took only a single photograph to create a bad impression that could last for years.

All of that was about to change.

John remained well out of sight in the executive offices, distancing himself from her and sending a silent message that she was on her own. But once again, Pete stood behind Nikki, making it clear she had his full support.

“I can see some of you have some problems understanding the new game plan.” Nikki tapped on her clipboard and pressed her lips firmly together. “I believe I made it clear that everyone was supposed to show up in a clean uniform, clean-shaven, and with no tattoos. When I call out your name, please step forward.”

The men looked at each other curiously, wondering how she could possibly enforce this edict.

“Jimmy. Ryan. Chase. Antonio. Derek. Pat.”

When no one stepped forward, Jake took a step back. The ballplayers who were safe did the same, thinking this was a fine joke.

That left the guilty standing front and center. Nikki glanced at Pete. “Now if you six will please return to the locker room, there is a barber waiting to help you comply with the new rules. And the rest of you, except for Jake, will find a clean uniform waiting. Any questions?”

The Sonics mumbled under their breath, but no one was willing to get thrown out of the game. Their eyes switched to Pete and he nodded, making it very clear that he was going to enforce Nikki’s orders. Jimmy Reilly threw his helmet to the ground and then stormed back to the locker room, followed by the other players.

Once out of earshot, he complained bitterly. “I can’t believe this crap. This is valuable time we could be using to practice instead of going to a beauty parlor.”

“I know. This is bullshit. I’m half tempted to quit.”

“Jeffrey must be losing his mind,” Ryan grumbled.

The complaints got louder as they each saw a neatly folded jersey and pants on the bench before every locker. Cody picked up his shirt and demonstrated the sleeve length.

“Do you realize it is eighty degrees out there?” He threw the shirt onto the bench in disgust. “No way am I wearing that.”

“There is an alternative,” Pete said calmly, his eyes meeting the catcher’s with a meaningful stare.

“Not getting rid of it.” Cody glanced down at the snake wrapped around his arm. The tattoo extended from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder, and was done in brilliant sapphire and emerald ink. “I’ve had my cobra since I was sixteen. It’s not going anywhere.”

“Then you’re stuck with the shirt,” Pete said decisively. “I’ll see all you boys outside. And anyone who shows up without the uniform can just take himself home now.”

Pete retreated, and the ballplayers cursed and muttered as they donned the new gear. A couple of the other hitters had tattoos as well, and found the same long-sleeved shirts that Cody had laid out for them.

“We’re going to sweat to death in this,” Brian said, putting on the offensive shirt but rolling the material up to his elbows.

“It will die down eventually,” Chase said diplomatic
ally.

“I don’t think so,” Jake said. “From what I understand, Jeffrey is on a mission, and she’s here for the duration.”

He exchanged a glance with Ryan, who shrugged, one brow lifted quizzically. “Maybe you need to start sweetening her up. Remember,” he indicated Jake’s jersey, “there’s more than number eleven at stake here.”

“I’m working on it,” Jake said. His voice trailed off when they saw a bikini-clad woman standing behind what appeared to be a barber chair. Astonished, he glanced over to Jimmy, who appeared equally surprised. Any doubt as to her occupation disappeared when she flashed a pair of scissors and indicated that the pitcher should be her first victim.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” the gorgeous blonde cooed as Jimmy dropped willingly into the chair. His jaw dropped open as the woman leaned forward, displaying her magnificent breasts. “You have a gorgeous head of hair,” she said seductively. “I can’t wait to get my hands on it.”

Jake stood in the doorway, a grin of admiration on his face as his teammates scrambled to get in line for a haircut. The female barber flirted with each player, admiring the texture of their hair, the color, and anything else she could possibly find to compliment. And the men ate it up. Eagerly they offered their chins and allowed her to administer her razor, especially when she made a sexy show of slathering on the cream. By the time she was done, the team looked as immaculate as a group of boys making their first communion.

He had to hand it to Nikki. By the time the Sonics trotted out to the field, all of the grumbling and complaining had ceased. Her spoonful of sugar definitely helped them swallow her agenda.

Jake was the first to walk outside. “Good move with the girl,” he complimented Nikki.

“Surprised?” It was her turn to grin. “You know the old saying. You catch more flies with honey.”

“I’m really impressed. Continue that way and you’re on the road to success with this team.”

“Aren’t you consorting with the enemy by telling me this?”

“Nope. Just looking to help you out.”

Nicki gave him a considering look. “And why would you do that?”

“Maybe because I like you?” One brow lifted as if daring her to contradict him.

“I’m not buying the Brooklyn Bridge, either,” she said shrewdly. “Much as I’d enjoy continuing this conversation, I’ve got to get back to work.”

Jake watched Nikki stride past him and signal to a photographer. As the team filed out onto the field, she made sure the man caught the picture of a freshly cleaned-up ball club. Chase jogged out to the mound, looking even more like the cover of
GQ
, while the rest of the team appeared neat and professional. Even some of the grumbles disappeared when the barber, finished for the day, stood beside Nikki and loudly extolled how handsome the team looked.

Jake grinned. She had pulled off the seeming impossible, getting this rough-and-tumble team to do her bidding. And all it took was a blonde in a bikini. Nikki Case obviously knew how to get her way, and understood men. She’d won the first round, but she had a long road ahead.

The good humor resulting from the blond barber lasted about as long as the first inning. The players who were stuck with the long-sleeved shirts began grumbling first, followed by the others when the opposing team began ribbing them about their sparkling appearance. By the seventh-inning stretch, rumors had begun to circulate about the new PR rep for the Sonics. And by the end of the game when the Sonics lost, the frustrated team was more than happy to blame Nikki for just about everything, including the unbearable humidity.

“Can’t wait for a drink.” Ryan tossed his shirt into his locker and slammed the door.

“I hear that,” Jake agreed. “It’s sweltering out there today.”

“This damned thing was pulling my arms all day,” Cody griped, tugging the soaked shirt away from his torso. “Swear that’s why I popped up in the ninth.”

“Did you hear that reporter Chris Smith talking smack about our hair and uniforms?” Brian complained. “Every time I came to first he called us pretty boys.”

“Beers at the tiki bar. I’m buying.” Sensing a revolt brewing, Jake tossed his jersey over his arm and headed toward the edge of the field. His teammates were right behind him as they gathered at the local watering hole, and Ryan gestured to the server. To their surprise, she shook her head and then went to talk to the manager. Jake and Ryan exchanged confused glances as the man nodded seriously, and then came to their table.

“Sorry, guys,” he said, obviously chagrined as the server brought a tray containing a pitcher of lemonade. As Jake’s mouth fell open and the rest of the team stared incredulously, the manager continued. “Orders from the top. The only thing we’re allowed to serve you is ice water, lemonade, or iced tea.”

“What the fuck!” Ryan put his hands on his hips and faced down the man. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Wish I was.” The manager shook his head and indicated Nikki, who was standing at the edge of the field talking with Pete. “It was made very clear to me that I needed to follow their rules or deal with the repercussions. Apparently the thinking from your management is that this doesn’t look good for the team—drinking, fraternizing with the fans—when you’re supposed to be practicing and training.”

“That’s it! This means war, if I have to go to Jeffrey myself!” Brian threw the contents of his glass on the dirt and then stormed out of the tiki bar. Most of the team followed. As Jake watched them go, he shrugged apologetic
ally.

“Don’t mean to take it out on you,” he said, glancing at the yellow puddle at the man’s feet.

“No offense taken,” the manager said simply while the server gazed at Jake sympatheti
cally. “Sounds like you boys got yourself a problem.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Jake grimaced in agreement.

She was, of course, still in the office when everyone else had gone. Jake stood outside the door, his jersey tossed over his shoulder. Her back was to him as she talked on the phone, and unconsciously she twirled the string of pearls around her neck and crossed her legs.

“The Sonics are a different team this year. I think it took getting to the World Series to change their thinking, make them take the whole thing more seriously. They are showing up for workouts early and staying late. No, I’m not kidding! They’ve even stopped hanging out at the tiki bar.”

She swung around in her chair, startled when she saw Jake posed lazily at the door. In her prim suit and pearls, with her black hair pulled back in a chignon, she looked as uptight as a schoolteacher on her first day of class and ten times as sexy. As she held up a finger, indicating she’d wrap up the call in a moment, he wondered how she’d react if he walked over and undid that bun, letting that black hair spill over her shoulders as he slid his fingers through the silken tresses…

“I sent you a couple of press releases. Take a look and let me know if there’s anything you think we can work with. In the meantime, want to stop by and check out the team? I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised…

“Great! See you then.” She hung up the phone, and her eyes met Jake’s as he sauntered forward and took a seat.

One black brow arched inquisitively as she studied the distance between them. “Can I help you?”