Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) (22 page)

“No. I mean, I knew he could contribute at the plate.”

“But you didn’t bring him to San Francisco to bring him into your bed?”

“No, of course not.” Even if she’d wanted to, she never would have believed he’d have been interested.

“Well, that’s good. Because I can tell he’s pretty smitten.”

“He’s
smitten
with winning.” Hunter hadn’t had enough girlfriends to know if this was normal girl talk or if Annabelle was teasing her.

“No. That man is head over cleats in love with you.”

“He is not. We’re not serious. In fact, the only reason we’re still seeing each other is because we’re still winning.”

“No. I see the way he looks at you.”

“That’s just part of his charm. His irresistibility.” Hunter was becoming more and more uncomfortable with this conversation. “I’m sure he looked at you the same way. You just don’t remember.”

“No. He never looked at me like that.” Annabelle sounded wistful. Envious, even. “Sure he
looked
at me. Maybe he even liked what he saw.”

She made a motion to draw attention to her face, her body, her cover-model looks.

“But he only saw the packaging.” Annabelle sighed. “He only saw what I presented to the world.”

Hunter looked at this gorgeous woman sitting in front of her. The woman she’d been jealous of so many times. But now she felt a little sorry for her.

“When Marco looks at you, he sees beyond the surface. He sees the whole you.” Annabelle wiped her eyes, this time with the back of her hand. “I saw it at the barbecue. He looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.”

“Are we talking about the same barbecue? You wore that emerald green top that dipped almost to your waist. Every man there was drooling over you. Including Marco.”

“No. He was just being friendly. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Right. Because I was so enticing in my baggy pants and plain T-shirt.”

“You were. You captured his heart. And yeah, I was jealous. Still am, if you want to know the truth.”

“You’re jealous of me?” Hunter stood up, shaking her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

Hunter laughed. What a joke. The supermodel was jealous of the tomboy. The woman who’d been named one of the most glamorous woman in the world before she was even old enough to drink.

But Annabelle wasn’t laughing. She was crying. Hunter was at her side, putting her arm around her friend.

“Annabelle, I don’t know what to say.”

“Promise you won’t hurt him. Marco’s a good man. A really good man.” She tried to laugh. “I keep telling myself I let him go, but he was never really mine.”

“He’s not really mine, either.” Hunter hoped she could be the kind of friend to Annabelle that she would need in a few weeks or months when she’d need a friend herself.

“Don’t sit there and tell me he’s just playing you like he plays left field.” Annabelle gripped her hands. “You have something special. Don’t let it slip away. Fight for it. Fight for it the way you’d fight for your team.”

Chapter 15

The Goliaths swept the series in Miami. Marco went five for thirteen with four RBIs. They were on a hot streak going into September and their closest opponent in the division had dropped three of their last four. They needed one win to clinch at least a wild card berth. Then, even if Los Angeles got hot the last few weeks, they were guaranteed a spot in the postseason.

But Hunter wasn’t going to be satisfied with a wild card. She had her sights set on the division title, and she was going to do whatever it took to help them get there. She’d picked the minor league players she thought were the most likely to contribute down the stretch, and she was personally going to welcome them into the clubhouse when they arrived in St. Louis.

She wouldn’t be available if they had problems with the hotel, however. She was staying with Marco. Her flight arrived just minutes before the team’s charter was scheduled to take off. That would give her a few hours to gather her luggage, grab dinner, and arrange for a car to take her to his apartment where she would shower, change into something not-so-comfortable, and await her lover.

She laughed when she let herself into his apartment. It was almost an exact replica of his place in San Francisco. The same leather sofa, big screen TV, and masculine—if not boring—black and silver bookcases. It was as if there was a bachelor pad catalog that catered to ballplayers who spent more time in a hotel room than their own place.

The only difference was the kitchen was on opposite sides of the apartment. In San Francisco, the living room faced west. Here it overlooked the city to the east. And back home, Marco had a view of the ballpark. When she looked out the window here she could catch a glimpse of the Gateway Arch.

Finally, she heard Marco’s key in the lock. She tried to hide her anticipation, but it was difficult when she was perched on his sofa in nothing but a bustier and matching red panties.

Marco dropped his suitcase, kicked the door shut, and fell to his knees in front of her.

“I’ve missed you.” He devoured her with kisses, stripping off his shirt when he came up for air.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Hunter grabbed at his zipper, tugging off his pants. Yeah, he’d missed her. The evidence was irrefutable.

“Did you miss me?” His mouth was magic, awakening her senses as he explored her body from her earlobes to her ankles.

She couldn’t answer, didn’t need to answer, her body responded for her.

“Marco. Please.” Her head fell back and she moaned as he slid inside her.

* * * *

Marco drove into Hunter. God she was good. Too good. A part of him wondered if he hadn’t fallen asleep on the plane, and was only dreaming of her. Dreaming of this perfection.

He’d arranged for her to meet him at his apartment. That way she could make herself comfortable in case the game went late or their flight was delayed.

She’d made herself comfortable, all right. She was dressed in the sexiest of her sexy lingerie, just waiting for him to come home.

He’d planned on taking it slow, being smooth and romantic. Instead, he’d taken her right there on the couch. Right where he’d found her.

The minute she’d said “please” he was a goner.

“I love you,” he said the words at the exact moment that she cried out his name. Spiraling out of control, they surrendered to an earth-shattering climax. He had no idea if she’d heard his confession. She just held on as the aftershocks ripped through them both.

“Does that answer your question?” She fumbled around for her panties, but wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I guess I did miss you.”

She slipped the tiny scrap of satin over her hips and wriggled off the couch.

Yeah, she’d heard him. Heard him and was terrified by his confession.

He dropped back on his heels and watched her escape to the bathroom.

With a sigh, he pulled his pants on and wandered into the kitchen. He’d made sure the cleaning service had come that morning to change the sheets and air out the place. But he hadn’t thought to have them stock the refrigerator.

He stood there staring at the empty fridge, feeling sorry for himself until he heard the shower.

He tapped on the door before entering with an extra towel.

“Just wanted to make sure you had everything you need.” Yeah, that was a lame excuse to barge right on in.

“I found everything easily enough.” Hunter laughed as the warm water sluiced down her body. “Once I figured out everything was a mirror image of your place in San Francisco. I’m starting to think that having identical apartments near every ballpark is part of the collective bargaining agreement.”

“An apartment’s an apartment.” Marco tossed the towel on the counter and started to back out of the bathroom. “One place is the same as the next.”

“And why is that?” She lathered herself up, turning to rinse. “Why don’t you care about where you live?”

“I don’t know. I guess I moved around enough as a kid, I never got attached to any one place.” He stood there, watching her make herself at home in his shower.

“Why did you move so much?”

“My mom was a hard worker.” He leaned against the bathroom counter, his past opening up like his pores in the heavy steam. “She had a good job. Worked for a wealthy family. Until their son came home from college.”

He’d never told anyone his story. It was too painful. Too shameful. But he wanted Hunter to know where he’d come from.

“He seduced my mother and when she got pregnant, he went back to college and she was out of a job.”

“Oh Marco. That’s so unfair.” She opened the shower door, inviting him in.

“Yeah.” Marco slipped out of his clothes, and joined her in the shower. “It was. But she never gave up. Even if it meant packing up and moving to a new town, wherever the jobs were. She kept a roof over our head. Food on the table. She made sure I got an education. And that I could play ball.”

“Sounds like your mother and my father would have been good friends, if they’d had a chance to meet.” Hunter stepped aside so he could rinse off.

When she wrapped her arms around him, Marco felt like he’d finally found a home.

* * * *

Hunter woke before Marco. She eased out from under his embrace, wanting to escape, but unable to tear herself away. So she propped herself up on the pillow and watched him sleep. He was gorgeous. Even in slumber, his muscles flexed, revealing his power. Not a scratch, or blemish, or spot of ink marred his perfectly smooth skin. Just a sprinkling of dark hair, in all the right places, inviting her to sample the fine tastes and textures and pleasure she’d grown to love.

Love. It hit her like a ninety-seven-mile-an-hour fastball. It was powerful and frightening and intoxicating at the same time, especially when it came with amazing sex. The kind of mind-blowing, earth-shattering, and all that other cliché inducing stuff she’d thought only existed in the movies.

He’d told her he loved her. True, he’d said it as he was plunging deep inside her and sending her over the edge. She’d been unable to respond, at least not verbally. But then he pulled away. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment. Or maybe he was as frightened by the thought as she was.

Watching him now, she felt butterflies in her stomach. No, more like a thousand hairy spiders. Still, she couldn’t tear herself away. She brushed a kiss across his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and a warm smile spread across his face.

“Good morning gorgeous.” Marco pulled her against him.

“Please, I’m a mess.” Hunter attempted to smooth her hair back.

“That’s what makes you even more beautiful.” He snuggled even closer. “Your hair is tousled from me running my hands through it. Your lips are swollen from my kisses. Your cheeks are pink from my whiskers.”

He kissed the top of her head before lifting her chin to meet her gaze.

“I’m the only one who sees you like this.”

Her stomach growled, ruining the moment.

“I guess I should have had some food delivered. I’m afraid I have nothing more than a bottle of hot sauce in my refrigerator.”

“You have an unopened jar of salsa and a box of stone wheat crackers in the pantry.”

“Good thing there’s a diner just down the street.” Marco sat up. “Let’s get dressed, grab some breakfast and go explore the city.”

They showered, dressed, and walked hand in hand to the family diner down the block.

“Marco Santiago!” The waitress set the coffee pot back on the burner before throwing her arms around him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“It’s good to see you again, Kelly.” Marco gave her a quick hug. “Any chance you have my table ready for me?”

“For you, Marco, anything.” She beamed at him, a neon flashing smile, and led them to his table.

“Does that mean I can get my favorite omelet?” He slid into the booth.

“It’s been added to our list of specials. ‘The Marco’ is one of our most popular menu items.” The woman was flirting with him. Shamelessly.

“Well, I guess I’ll have the special.” Marco flashed his dimples at the waitress before acknowledging Hunter was there. “Do you need to see the menu?”