by Jody Holford
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Find your Bliss with these great releases… The Daddy Coach
No Heartbreaker Required
The Practice Proposal
Falling for the Best Man
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Jody Holford. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
2614 South Timberline Road
Suite 105, PMB 159
Fort Collins, CO 80525
[email protected]
Bliss is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Stacy Abrams
Cover design by KAM Designs
Cover photography by
ca2hill/DepositPhotos
Only background/Shutterstock
pixdeluxe/iStock
ISBN 978-1-64063-860-0
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition September 2019
Dear Reader,
Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
xoxo
Liz Pelletier, Publisher
First, think. Second, believe. Third, dream. And finally, dare.
~Walt Disney
All my favorite people
Chapter One
Worst-case scenario, she’d go to jail.
Maybe the prosecutor would go easy on her, given her charitable work and her connections? Pulling into the temporary parking lane of the Nashville International Airport international pickups, Addie Carlisle checked the time. His plane had landed. He’d be expecting a driver. And that’s what she’d provide…with one little detour.
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she wondered if she should go into the airport to greet him. It wasn’t like he would know her on sight. Which was why she’d made a sign.
Getting out of the luxury sedan, she went to the trunk and removed the crisp white poster-board sign that read MCBAIN. Deep breaths. Maybe he’d find the whole thing funny. Maybe he’d want to do her this favor. Maybe you should just introduce yourself and ask him. It would be the path of least pressed charges.
He’d find it strange, though, right from the start, to have a member of the organization picking him up. It wasn’t exactly the norm, and from what she’d heard and witnessed behind the scenes, Sawyer McBain was not a fan of the unexpected. But she could still try the up-front and honest route. That’ll make him feel good: my sure thing bailed at the last minute so I wondered if you could do me this one little favor?
Addie had nearly convinced herself before she turned to lean against the rented car and laid eyes on him. It was like that scene from Miss Congeniality where Sandra Bullock walked out of the airplane hangar, but in reverse. The crowd actually parted for him, likely even without knowing who he was. Of course, more than six feet of toned muscle, with those wide shoulders and a swagger he probably wouldn’t admit to, he commanded space. Sawyer McBain wouldn’t recognize her, but she immediately recognized him.
Still, Addie wasn’t prepared for the effect of seeing him up close. She’d seen him on a screen and from far away when she attended games in the owner’s box with her best friend, the owner of the Nashville Slammers. But right now, the legendary catcher, supposed playboy, and fiercely private man was walking directly toward her, a hint of a smile on his ruggedly handsome face. His square jaw flinched slightly when a guy jumped in front of him, but his lips turned up in an almost-smile as he signed an autograph.
Addie watched for a moment while he interacted with the fan, making him laugh, and then resumed his trek, black carry-on slung over his right shoulder. While he continued forward, eyes locked on her sign, she took a moment to appreciate the full-length view. He was six three, two hundred and ten pounds of lean muscle. Not that she was a stalker or anything. In her newly appointed position as director of special projects and team wellness, she knew every player inside and out. On paper. And the papers she had access to didn’t always tell the whole story.
Her eyes traveled from his black boots up over thick, strong legs that she could only imagine, given his position, were incredibly muscled, then along the dark T-shirt covering flat abs and a sculpted chest. Thankfully, she managed not to drool when he stopped in front of her. Just tell him who you are. You technically work with him. And are taking advantage of it! You are seriously going to blow this.
No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She’d been working toward her goal for too long.
“Don’t know that I’ve ever had such a pretty driver,” Sawyer said, his eyes not hiding his flirtation. That smooth voice and the way his eyes tracked her body, an almost fake smile tilting his lips—what Addie referred to as a “show smile”—put her walls firmly back in place. She’d moved to Nashville to focus on her career and her own interests. She wasn’t opposed to finding love and a happily ever after, at all, but there was no way she was willing to get tangled up—in sheets or anything else—with a literal and figurative player who graced more tabloid covers than the royal couple. Plus, after watching her best friend fall for someone she technically worked with, Addie knew to be cautious in that area as well.
Her cheeks warmed and she lowered the sign. “Uh, thank you. Can I take your bag?” There were plenty of suitable and eligible men in Nashville. But wow, they don’t all look like this one.
Instead of answering, he walked around her and tossed his bag in the open trunk. Clearing her throat, she pulled herself together. She had a goal and a plan. Quickly checking the garment bags to make sure his hadn’t crushed them, Addie shut the trunk and went to the rear passenger door, holding it open for him. His brown hair was short, particularly on the sides. The top was a bit spiky but looked soft. She wondered if he’d fallen asleep on the plane or run his hands through it. Oh yes. Put him in a suit and they’ll bring in more money with one man than they have in a year.
One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Mind if I ride up front with you?”
Her heart hitched along with her breath. “Of course not.” Even better.
His smile should have been listed as one of his strengths on his roster sheet. Or as a weapon. Oh my. She won
dered if the delicious scent was just purely Sawyer or his cologne. Either way, it made her head swim.
He beat her to the door and slid in, so Addie rounded the hood and got into the car. Pressing the button for the ignition, she buckled up and checked her mirrors. When there was an opening, she pulled into the traffic lane that would lead them out of the airport.
Finding an opening to pose her question was a bit tougher than she’d expected, seeing as he stared out the window, seemingly content with the quiet. It confused her; he had a rep for chatting up the ladies, but he certainly wasn’t talking her ear off.
“How was your flight?” Keeping her eyes on the road, she more felt his gaze than saw it.
“Fine, thanks.”
Right. Okay. “I’m a fan of yours,” she said, trying again.
“Always nice to meet a fan,” he said, his voice low and a little rumbly. The kind of voice that made shivers travel over her skin. “What’s your name?”
“Addie.” There. See? The truth is not so hard.
“Short for Addison? Your parents were Cubs fans?” His voice had a hint of twang, and she remembered he’d been born in Nashville. He hadn’t always played there, but for the last several years, it had been his home.
“My friends call me Addie.”
Sawyer lived around The Gulch, which wasn’t far from Music Row. She had approximately eight to ten minutes before he noticed she wasn’t getting on the I-40. Once she took the turnoff for the I-65 instead, he’d know she was up to something. Which you are. But it’s something for the greater good. That didn’t always matter to people.
Addie glanced over. Ease in. Relax. “Did you have a good trip?”
Sawyer stretched out his long legs and crossed his arms over his chest. “Sure. How long have you been a driver?”
She recognized deflection but went with it, swallowing around the knot in her throat. “Just a short time.”
“Word gets out that your company has such pretty drivers, you’ll be working overtime.”
She laughed too loud, nerves making the sound sort of garbled. Smooth, Addie. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this career.”
He glanced over, and she felt his eyes on her as she navigated traffic. She could feel warmth spreading over her skin.
“No? I guess if you don’t like driving, you’re definitely in the wrong profession,” he said.
Tightening her grip on the wheel, she thought of how best to approach the conversation. “Speaking of professions, you’re one of the best catchers in the game.”
She’d liked baseball even before she signed on with the Slammers, but since joining her best friend, Isla, after she inherited the team, she’d made it her goal to know as much as she could. McBain was a name people didn’t forget once they saw him play. Which he hadn’t done for the last three games due to a runner’s slide into his knee as he came over home plate.
It could have been her imagination, but Addie swore she felt the mood in the small space between them shift.
“Yup.” His voice was flat. Uninterested. No imagining that. When she glanced over, he was staring out the window again.
Interesting. And awkward. Her position meant chatting with players, establishing relationships, and getting a feel for what they needed to improve their overall wellness. Isla had been so receptive to the presentation she’d given her on balancing personal and professional worlds, it had made her heart soar. Addie never felt like she was making enough of a difference, but this job was changing that.
Professional athletes, at least the ones she’d met, did everything to the extreme. They couldn’t just work out, they trained. They didn’t just play, they lived the game. Addison wanted to make sure the carryover of that intensity didn’t negatively impact the players. She also wanted to help people who were in positions to make a difference see that they could. The players she had met with so far were more than eager to share their stats and standings. Not Sawyer.
Time to come clean. She gulped in a lungful of air. “I…um…I actually work for the Slammers,” she said. The truth will set you free. Or, at least, loosen the knot in your throat. Things were always worse in her imagination than they turned out to be in reality. Maybe he’d be more open than she thought. She knew the media could slant things to a very crooked view so maybe the things she’d heard about him being reluctant to socialize, particularly at large gatherings, was inaccurate.
“What did you say?”
She pulled up to a stoplight. The last one before she’d have to get on the interstate. “I’m the head of special projects and player wellness.”
She’d hoped that would cut through the red tape, show him they were on the same side, same team and all that. But when she looked over, his face contorted, his dark brows angling together and his lips curving to create a deep frown that did not suit what she’d originally thought of as laughing eyes. Addie’s stomach clenched.
“What the hell does that mean?”
She could practically hear his teeth grinding together. Her pulse sped up. “Uh…it means that I coordinate charity events, community connections, and projects for our players to take part in. I also work with players personally, to make sure they have everything they need for a balanced lifestyle.” He said nothing, and the air seemed to get sucked out of the vehicle. Give him an example. She always had to explain her position when she told people about it. “For instance, I just set one of the outfielders up with a massage therapist and a dietician. He’s having trouble managing his diabetes and he could find those resources himself, but doing it for him takes the stress away.”
“And managing wellness includes picking players up from the airport?” He scowled.
“Uh, no.” She was messing this up.
“I don’t need a damn wellness manager. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I manage myself just fine.”
A horn honked behind her, and with her brow furrowed, she turned back to the road. He certainly didn’t seem to manage his overreaction to her job title very well. She’d taken the plunge now, though, and had about thirty seconds of asphalt to make him like her again.
“Well, that’s only part of it. As I was saying, I also coordinate projects. I connect athletes with organizations that can benefit from their influence and public personas.” He had to be familiar with that idea, since he was signed up for several charity events once the season was finished. Her jaw had dropped when she’d read that the reserved player was scheduled to ballroom dance with some famous actress on a Variety Telethon.
From the corner of her eye, she saw his hands clench on his lap. “I have more than enough on my plate, lady.”
“Addie Carlisle.”
“Listen, Addison¸ whatever you’re selling? I’m not buying. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but if you need some sort of celebrity endorsement, go through my agent.”
Right. And she could have, if her original volunteer hadn’t backed out. The truth was, the rest of the players were at an away game. Sawyer, clearly, wasn’t.
She could feel the tension radiating off him, increasing the temperature of the car to an uncomfortable degree. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I should have been more direct.” Her heart was flapping in her chest like an angry bird.
“It’s fine. People ask me for things all the time.”
Which might account for him being so standoffish. And here you are, falling into the crowd of people who want something from him. When she saw his hand reach out and rub over his left knee, the one that had taken the hit, guilt swamped her. She pulled the car over just before the highway sign, ignoring the loud honks behind her.
Sawyer sat up, swiveled his head around, his tight jaw dropping open. “Are you crazy? You’re going to get us in an accident.”
“Sorry. I seem to be saying that a lot. I’m going to level with you, Sawyer, because I don’t have time to do this any other way.”
His eyes widened and he pushed himself back against the door. “T
ell me you’re not a crazed fan who wants one of my hairs to do some love spell or something.”
Addie nearly choked on her laughter, but she wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. “That hasn’t really ever happened, has it?”
“You have no idea what people are willing to ask of strangers.”
The way he said it tugged at her heartstrings. Yes, she was asking for something, too, but she wasn’t like all the others. She had a valid reason and a willingness to owe him. Big. If she could just convince him.
Addie took a deep breath. “You have nice hair, but it isn’t what I want, and when I fall in love or a man falls in love with me, I want it to be the real thing. Not because of a spell.”
His eyes widened, his brows arching up. “They don’t really work.”
“How can you know that for sure?”
Sawyer put a hand on the dash, leaned in slightly. “Are we really having this conversation?”
Addison didn’t usually get sidetracked so easily, but this man was…unsettling. In far too many ways. “No. Well, we are, but we shouldn’t be. I just wanted to point out that if you don’t believe in them, you have no reason to worry. But saying they don’t work like you’re some authority on whether they do or don’t, well, unless you’ve tried, you can’t know that.”
He leaned in a little farther and she caught another heady whiff of his cologne. “Lady, Addison, Addie, Ms. Carlisle, whatever you want me to call you, what’s it going to take to just get me home already?”
She squeezed the steering wheel and glanced at the clock. They were going to be late.
“Look,” he said, his tone softer. “Do you know where I live? I’ll sign a ball for your nephew or give you a couple of T-shirts. Can we just go?” He flicked his hand out, gesturing to the road.
Addie shot him a weak one-sided smile but didn’t put the car in drive. “If you still insist on going home, I’ll take you there. I promise. But I’m in a bind and, you’re right, I do need something from you. I need a really big favor.”
Chapter Two
Sawyer clenched his hands and forced himself not to take his frustration and fatigue out on the adorable freaking woman driving him. What the hell kind of setup was this? She looked all cute and sweet and sexy as hell in her black skirt and crisp white dress shirt covered by a suit jacket. He was used to women who exuded sex appeal because it was clearly their goal. This one did it without even trying. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that made his breath and heart hitch at the same time when he’d locked eyes on her. He’d learned the hard way to check his emotions, expectations, and reactions in public. It took more than a gorgeous woman who flustered easily to break through his iron shield.
