Worth the Trade (More Than A Game) (8 page)

“Yeah. I haven’t had a chance to look around.” Nor did he want to. He was no longer interested in the kind of women who were into professional athletes. The kind of women who were fascinated by his job, his income, and his moments in the spotlight.

“Hey, I’d be more than happy to show you around.” Bryce offered. “There aren’t enough single guys on this team.”

“I’m not really looking to party,” Marco admitted. “Besides, the last thing I need is to strike out off the field, too.”

“Sure. Let me know if you change your mind, though,” Bryce added as he finished his stretches.

They seemed to run out of things to talk about. Maybe Marco should have taken Bryce up on his offer to show him around. No one said he’d have to go home with anyone if he didn’t want to.

“Are you going to the team barbecue?” Bryce put his glove on, ready to take some ground balls.

“I guess so.” Marco had glanced at the invitation only briefly before tossing it in his locker. The last thing he wanted was to stand around talking about how much he sucked.

“You want share a cab with me?” Bryce asked. “I hear they used to be quite the tradition. Before Henry Collins got sick.”

The name “Collins” pricked his attention.

“So, where is this party?”

“At the Collins’ estate.” Bryce grinned. “It’s supposed to be casual: barbecue, bocce ball, that kind of thing. It might be fun. Get a chance to see her let her hair down.”

Marco knew the her he was talking about. No way he was letting Bad-boy Baxter get anywhere near Hunter. Not without him.

“Yeah. I’ll go with you.” Marco decided. “I’ll definitely go with you.”

Chapter 5

So far, the casual get-together was just what Hunter had envisioned. Several groups of players stood around chatting, sipping cold beers, and generally relaxing. A couple of guys were playing a heated game of bocce ball, and she’d managed to keep from spending all her time tracking Marco’s movements.

It was time to start cooking the burgers. Hunter lit the grill and went inside to retrieve the tray of hamburger patties she’d prepared ahead of time. She came back to find Marco scraping the grates on her built-in gas grill.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She would have been more open to him stepping in if he’d said more than two words to her this afternoon. Okay, so maybe “Thank you for having us over.” was actually six words. Still, he’d pretty much avoided her all day. Now he was making himself at home?

“Manning the grill.” He grinned, flashing his deep dimples. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses. That was a good thing.

“I’ve got it.” She tried to step in, but he shook his head.

“Sorry. Red meat. Open flame. Man’s job.” He pounded his chest and grunted for good measure.

“Really? Does that work for you often?” She crossed her arms over her chest and wasn’t too surprised when he dropped his gaze to her breasts. What a caveman.

“Look, I know you’ve busted your tail doing all the prep work. Getting everything ready. You should relax for a bit. Put your feet up. Have a beer.” Now he was being charming. He lowered his voice, making the conversation that much more intimate. “Give me a chance to feel at least somewhat useful.”

Fine. She could do that. If his ego was so fragile he needed to grunt, pound his chest, and char meat to feel manly, who was she to get in the way?

She went back into the kitchen to retrieve a platter for the cooked meat. As she reached for a brightly colored dish, she was startled by the sharp sting of memory. She fondly recalled dragging her father to the open market in the Dominican Republic during one of their many scouting trips to the Winter Leagues.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the grief before heading back outside.

“Here, you can put the manly meat on this.” No, that didn’t sound cheesy. Oh, damn it. She’d forgotten the cheese.

“Wow. Colorful.” He was teasing her again. And checking her out as he flipped the burgers. “I think there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Before she could come up with a clever retort, every head in the back yard turned. Clayton had arrived, with his wife, Annabelle. She’d been featured in the
Sports Illustrated
swimsuit issue three years in a row. Twice on the cover.

“Thank you so much for inviting us.” Annabelle swept across the yard in her oh-so-stylish emerald green silk blouse that dipped elegantly in the front and tied in a big bow in the back. She wore crisp white linen cropped pants and wedge-heeled sandals. “What a great idea to give the players a family style picnic.”

“I’m glad you could come.” Hunter wiped her hands on her cargo pants. She’d wanted to take a break from the suits and go with a more casual style. So she wore a black three quarter sleeve T-shirt, graphite cropped hiking pants, and light-as-air trail shoes. She’d pulled her hair back in a simple braid instead of her usual twist. She was trying for the carefree going-for-a-hike-on-Mt. Tam look. Next to the supermodel, she felt more like she was wearing a digging-through-the-dumpster-for-aluminum-cans kind of style. “You’re part of the Goliaths’ family as well.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you to include me.” Annabelle brushed an air kiss across Hunter’s cheek. “I haven’t really paid too much attention to the team since the girls were born.”

The girls were five-year-old twins, Sophie and Olivia. Two perfect little princesses.

“Did you bring them?”

“Oh, no. They had a play date. Besides, the last thing a bunch of single ballplayers want is to have little girls underfoot.”

Hunter used to be that little girl underfoot. When her father had first bought the team, he took her with him to every game, scouting opportunity and media event. She was kind of an unofficial mascot.

“Maybe when we have a get-together for players and their families, you could bring them.”

“Sure. Or we could host the next party,” Annabelle suggested. She turned to survey the rest of the crowd. She smiled graciously as some of the players recognized her. Then she broke into a huge grin as she caught sight of one player in particular.

“Marco Santiago!” The supermodel practically launched herself at the left fielder. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “How long has it been?”

“Seven years.” He smiled that charming grin of his. “You’re beautiful as always.”

“Please, I’ve gotten so out of shape since having the twins.” She patted her perfectly flat abs. “But look at you. You’ve been working out.”

She actually reached up and squeezed his biceps.

“Yes, well, that is my job.” His cheeks colored slightly.

“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I didn’t know you were a Goliath.” She shook her head, making her perfect golden locks bounce. “I guess I should pay more attention.”

“So what are you doing here? Are you a friend of Miss Collins?” He met Hunter’s eyes, offering a slight smile.

“Oh, no. My husband is one of the owners. Can you believe that?”

“He’s a lucky man.” Marco stepped back, hooking his thumbs in his jeans’ front pockets. “I hope he appreciates what he’s got. Well, it was good seeing you again, Annabelle.”

“What, no hug?” She pouted, and Marco leaned in for a quick embrace.

“Get your hands off my wife!” Clayton chose that moment to make his presence known. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Oh, Clayton…” Annabelle let go of Marco and went immediately to her husband’s side. She placed a soothing hand on his arm. “Don’t be dramatic. Marco’s an old friend of mine.”

“Old friend, huh?” Clayton glared at the other man. His jaw twitched, and Hunter was sure he was about to lunge for Marco’s throat.

“Um Marco, I need you in the kitchen.” At the moment she didn’t care if he took that as an invitation. She just wanted to separate the two men, before she had to scrape blood off her patio.

“Sure. No problem.” He stared down the shorter man and followed Hunter back into the house.

“So, what do you need?” Marco looked around her kitchen, waiting for direction.

“I need you to not get into a fight in my backyard.” Her heart was still pounding, both from the fear that the two men would go to blows and the thought of Marco and Annabelle as once-upon-a-time lovers.

“I’ll behave. I don’t know if I can say the same about your partner.” His mouth twitched into a little smile. Not enough to bring out his dimples, but enough to show her that he found this amusing.

“You don’t understand…” She couldn’t tell him about the bet, but… Oh, she had a bad feeling this was going to end in disaster.

“I think I understand well enough.” His expression lost all hint of amusement. “The guy didn’t want me here in the first place. And now that he knows I have a history with his wife…”

“A sexual history?” Damn, it was none of her business. Except for how it could affect her business. Her team.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a little jealous. But that would mean you were interested. And clearly, you’re not.”

Hunter felt a warm flush creep up her cheeks. She knew if she tried to protest, he’d see right through her. He seemed to have x-ray vision where she was concerned.

“We dated, briefly, when I was first called up to the majors.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying this.

“So you did sleep with her?” Her cheeks flamed.

“Does that bother you?” He moved closer, his damn blue eyes boring right through her.

“I think we should check the burgers on the grill.” She tried to move past him, but he caught her arm.

“Hunter, the burgers are fine.” His hand was warm, his voice even warmer. “You’re jealous.”

“She was on the cover of
Sports Illustrated
.”

“Now, I’m jealous,” he teased. “I’ve never made the cover.”

“She does look better in a bikini.” Hunter tried to laugh it off. Pretend her gut wasn’t twisting at the thought of him and Annabelle together.

“You think so?” His features became more serious.

“She’s beautiful.” Hunter couldn’t help but sigh. What woman wouldn’t be envious of the two-time cover model who looked like she could make a third appearance—even after giving birth to twins?

“She’s not the only one.” He stared directly into Hunter’s eyes. “But I haven’t thought of her once since we broke up all those years ago.”

“Oh.” Hunter had to wonder how many other gorgeous women he’d replaced Annabelle with.

“Yet, I can’t get
you
out of my mind.” He reached out to touch her hair. “You, with your pulled back hair. Your drab wardrobe. Your barely there makeup. You haunt my dreams.”

He muttered something in Spanish. A crude, suggestive remark. He obviously didn’t realize that she’d been around enough Latino players to have picked up on slang.

But before she could tell him she also spoke Spanish, his tongue was in her mouth. Hungry. Insistent. Possessive.

He kissed like he played: full throttle. He explored her mouth as thoroughly as he covered the outfield. Diving deep. Lunging. Taking her breath away. He slid his knee between her legs. Instinctively, she pressed against his hard, muscular thigh. He ran his hands up her back. Rubbing. Pressing. Claiming. He shoved one hand through her hair, loosening the carefully braided strands while his other hand continued to pull her closer.

“Marco.” She gasped, trying to catch her breath.

He kissed her again. Harder. Deeper. He rubbed his thigh against her most sensitive spot, sending small shudders throughout her body. She was
this
close to having an orgasm, fully clothed, with a yard full of people just outside.

“Marco. Please.” She pulled away, even as her heart—no, her body—wanted to protest. “Someone could walk in here any second.”

“Right. Sorry.” Marco let her go with a heavy sigh. Then he muttered a curse in Spanish.

“
Yo
hablo Español.
” She barely managed a smile, her lips were so swollen from his kisses.

“I should have known.” He stared down at her. Stared right through her. It was almost enough to make her forget she had company, including her partners, several members of the team, and Marco’s former lover.