by Jody Holford
“Explain the ‘when you hit the stage’ comment,” he said. Music from a five-piece string band welled behind them.
Putting on her don’t-be-mad-at-me smile that only ever worked on her dad, she walked toward the ballroom. His hand curled around her arm and he gently pulled her back to face him, making sensation shoot straight to her stomach.
“Let’s dance,” she said, not meaning for her voice to come out husky and breathy. He followed when she stepped farther into the room. Addie used the position to put one hand on his shoulder, urging him to dance. He took the lead, putting a hand to her waist and moving around the floor with graceful ease.
“Addison,” he said, his tone brusque.
“Uh. Well, see, we were supposed to bring people who might inspire the guests to donate money to spend time with them.”
“Excuse me?”
She leaned in, though he was so much taller than her, it didn’t have the desired effect. “It’s a charity auction. They’re expecting the high-profile guests to be auctioned off.”
“You’re pimping me out?” His jaw dropped. “Like Pretty Woman?”
She shushed him and looked around the room. Even though guilt racked her, she smirked. “You are not Julia Roberts. And of course I’m not pimping you out. It’s for charity, damn it. Some lucky person will get to spend the rest of the evening with you, including dinner, for a very generous donation.”
Sawyer’s frown deepened and he scanned the room. “Most of the women here are my grandmother’s age.”
Addie bit back a laugh, but a quick scan of the room showed he was right. “Maybe a man will bid on you.”
He tilted his chin down and glared at her. “That supposed to be funny?”
Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. “I’m sorry.”
She’d gone about it all wrong and she knew it. What an absolute mess. She should have just asked Isla for help. Even if the team was at an away game, her fiancé, Liam, who was the former heavy hitter for the team, probably had some famous friends. Though everything she’d done tonight suggested otherwise, she hated taking advantage of people, and Isla had enough on her plate. The truth was, she’d panicked. She wanted so badly to succeed here, to make a home in Nashville, to be part of the Slammers but also part of the community, that she’d leaped before she looked.
Dropping her hands, she shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. How I’ve behaved is completely unfair to you. I’m ashamed at the lengths I went to. I understand if you want to leave—I’ll even drive you home. I have no excuse for myself, and you deserve more than this.”
Sawyer tilted his head to the side and studied her. Her chest ached with the pressure of his stare. Guilt kicked her heart rate up another notch. Surprising her, he stepped closer and pulled her back in his arms.
“Your mom is living with MS.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I can take advantage of someone else for personal gain.”
Though music and people filled the room, Addie felt like it was only the two of them. Somehow, whether it was the size of him or just his personality, Sawyer created an invisible bubble around them as they swayed together.
“What’s the personal gain?”
She scrunched up her nose and stared at him. His forehead lowered so it was almost touching hers. She blinked and inhaled sharply. “To get a seat on the board.”
“To skim funds? Misuse accounts? Take advantage of families already suffering?”
Her jaw dropped, literally, opening and closing like a fish. His questions were offensive but what struck her more was how much they said about him. Or rather, who he had in his life. Was he really that jaded?
“Of course not. Why would you say something so awful? I told you I was sorry. I’m not a terrible person. I offered to take you home. Why would you be deliberately cruel?”
He didn’t seem bothered by her outrage. Sawyer held her gaze as casually as he held her in his arms, like it meant nothing. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I’m trying to figure out what the personal gain is for you going to the lengths you did to get me here. You said a seat on the board, but as far as I can figure out, even that is selfless. You want the seat to raise money for people with a disease you don’t even have.”
Blinking, trying to absorb his words, she sorted through them. “You don’t have to have MS to be affected by it.”
His smile slowly warmed his features, making his eyes brighter and more captivating. It was so unexpected—the scowl was pretty hot, too, but wow, his smile—that Addie lost her breath for a moment.
“Exactly. If that’s the kind of personal gain you’re being so hard on yourself about? Well, let’s just say it’s a refreshing kind of selfishness. But I’m doubling up on the payback.”
Hope made her heart trip. “You’ll do the charity auction?”
His scowl returned. “I will. Never know when I might need an extra favor.”
The way he said it sounded rather ominous, but she wasn’t in a position to argue. The Nashville Slammers had been through a lot in the last year. Their owner died, leaving the team to his estranged granddaughter, who’d almost been forced to quit. Their beloved heavy hitter had retired, they’d hung on by their fingertips this entire season and could be heading into the playoffs. Hometown pride was a big thing. Especially right now. Sawyer McBain was going to be a moneymaker on that stage. Like Magic Mike but…well, clothed. She grinned at the thought.
“I have no problem being indebted to you twice over.”
He shook his head like she was confusing. “You’re an interesting woman.”
Shrugging, she decided to take that as a compliment. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He shrugged and scanned the crowd as he moved them around the floor.
He was a pretty interesting person himself. Hot one minute, cold the next. Hard to read and temperamental. Though tonight wasn’t really the best circumstances to judge him, Addie figured there was a lot more to Sawyer than the impression he gave. She just didn’t know if it was good or not.
“If the winning bid is a handsy grandma, your job will be to run interference so none of my body parts is pinched.”
Stifling the giggle that wanted to burst free, she nodded her agreement. “Is your grandmother handsy?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I brought a couple of teammates to the home she lives in and she grabbed both their asses.”
Unable to hold back, Addie laughed loud enough to draw attention, and for once, she didn’t even care. She was dancing with more than a superstar. He had a grandmother he visited in a home and he took pity on Addie when he could have told her to go to hell.
She wasn’t sure what the payback would be, but he’d more than earned it, and the night was only just beginning.
Chapter Four
Sawyer twirled with Addie on the dance floor, loving and hating how perfectly she fit in his arms. He wasn’t looking for perfect and he sure as hell wasn’t looking for a woman. To say he was gun shy there would be an understatement. Which meant he needed to stop thinking about the feel of her hip beneath his hand or the way she’d magicked out of that boxy jacket and into a sexy evening gown and, once again, stolen his breath.
He didn’t trust a lot of people and certainly not Addison, since he didn’t know her, but he trusted his gut, and as ruthless as it might seem, something told him having this woman in his debt would be advantageous. Too many things had spiraled out of his control lately, and he needed something—someone—in his corner.
“Thank you for all of this,” she said, her breath tickling his ear. He’d leaned down to pull her close because if he was going to dance with a woman, he wanted the feel of her along his body.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” he said. And she might not be thanking him when he took his payback. This was one night of schmoozing and fakery. That seemed far more doable than the game show the Slammers publicist had booked him on. Why the heck wo
uld he want to be on a reboot of a show he’d never even watched? The only game he liked was baseball. He wasn’t sure what kind of power Addison had at the Slammers organization or if she could pull strings to release him from the obligation, but it was worth asking her to try.
Glancing around the room, he eyed the various grandmotherly types who were chatting and laughing. Maybe he was stereotyping, but if any of these women was like his grandmother, Sawyer would have to keep his hands firmly planted over his ass. He smiled, thinking of Grams’s sass and how much she’d like to hear about Addison Carlisle’s determination to get what she wanted. Jolene McBain was his mother’s mother and the only person in his family who loved him for him.
It had rubbed him the wrong way that Addie wanted something from him. He was already being stretched more than a rubber workout band. But when he realized her idea of a favor included no personal gain, he’d been more than curious. He’d been charmed. Damn it.
“The auction will start soon. Dinner will be served after and…depending on who your winning bid is, I may or may not see you then.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. “You’re going to disappear? Aren’t you my ride?” What kind of game was she playing now?
Addison glanced around, then looked back up at him again. “Well, yeah. But…” She stared at his chest.
Clearing his throat, resisting the urge to nudge her chin back up with his hand, he waited.
“I don’t know if you noticed or not,” she said to his chest. “But there are more than handsy grandmas in this mix. If you get bid on by a woman who…interests you, you may not want me to be your ride is all I’m saying. You know where I work, so finding me won’t be an issue, but I just wondered if you knew what you’d like in exchange for tonight.”
The music swelled and the scents of other peoples’ colognes and perfumes nauseated him. Or maybe it was the fact that he was pretty sure Addison had just suggested that he’d choose to go home with a woman who paid for him. He wasn’t giving that much to a charity, thank you very much. Time? If he had to. Money? If he liked the cause, absolutely. Taking a stranger home ever again? Not happening.
“Contrary to what the tabloids say, I don’t hook up with every woman I meet, and I definitely won’t be heading home with anyone tonight. Especially not someone who paid to be with me. This isn’t Pretty Woman, Addison.”
Her head snapped back. “You sound angry.”
That confused her? “You just suggested I’d sleep with the highest bidder for a good cause.”
Addison’s jaw dropped open. “I… That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to trap you into anything.”
The loud laugh that burst from his chest turned some heads, and even in the low light, he could see the faint blush that colored Addison’s cheeks.
“Funny thing for a kidnapper to say.”
The shock, and hurt, in her expression clawed at him. It was a jerk thing to say, but he wasn’t wrong. He just hadn’t meant it to come across so harshly.
Addison stepped back from him, and he had no choice but to follow her to the side of the dance floor. He snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, kept a smile glued to his face. There were photographers circling the room. Which meant he and Addison would be linked together by tomorrow; she’d be labeled his latest conquest. One of the many reasons he kept to himself these days. He was tired of the rumors and the way his mom managed to use them against him.
Standing beside her, he passed her the flute, surprised she accepted it from him. Nerves visibly pulsed off her. The woman had passion in spades. And that thought dried his throat. He took a long drink of the bubbly liquid but it didn’t loosen the pressure in his chest.
“I went about tonight all wrong and I regret that now,” she said.
He barely heard her over the music. “Life’s full of regrets.”
She turned her head and scrunched her brows. “You’re very cynical.”
Sawyer shrugged. “The Slammers publicist arranged for me to do a guest spot on some trivia show. I want out. With playoffs starting, I don’t have time and I didn’t want to do it in the first place.”
“Those spots are providing great coverage for the team. Several of the players have already done it.”
He finished his champagne. “Good for them. That’s your first payback. Get me out of it. I need to focus on baseball.”
She pressed her lips into a firm line that contradicted the fire in her eyes. “Fine. And the second favor?”
“I’ll let you know.”
She started to say something when a couple approached and asked for an autograph. Going on autopilot, Sawyer engaged, laughed, listened to how much they were enjoying the season and wished like hell he was home, drinking a beer, by himself.
When a tall blonde approached and took too many liberties with her hands, he politely extricated himself and linked his fingers with Addison’s. The dual sensation of comfort and heat, just from their palms sliding together, surprised him.
She arched her brow. “You scare easily.”
A low growl left his throat. “Don’t like being groped without my permission.”
She squeezed his hand. “Fair enough. Sorry.”
The softness of her tone, the genuineness, twisted something in his chest. Sawyer led them toward the bar.
“Is my getting you away from her your second favor?”
“Ha. Nice try. You didn’t do anything. I took your hand.”
They waited in line, and he probably should have let go of her hand, but if it kept people from getting too close, he didn’t want to.
The guy behind the bar barely looked old enough to serve liquor. He was in the middle of drying a glass when his eyes locked with Sawyer’s. The glass fumbled but the kid caught it, righted it, and dropped his jaw.
“Sawyer McBain. Man, you are awesome. Watching you play is lit. You’re like this generation’s Yogi Berra,” he said.
Sawyer laughed. There was absolutely nothing like meeting someone who liked him for the right reasons. The kid was way off in his assessment of Sawyer’s abilities but it was a hell of a compliment. Sawyer held out a hand and the kid grasped it eagerly.
“And you are?” He caught the curious look Addie was giving him from the corner of his eye.
“Dustin Osborne, sir.”
Sawyer almost hung his head. Sir? When did that happen? “Sawyer will do. I’ll take a rum and Coke and the lady will have…” He stopped, looked down at Addison. Jesus, she was pretty. Something tightened between his chest and his heart. You need sleep. And to get off your feet.
“I’ll have a cola,” she said. Then she winked at him. “Need to make sure I get you home safe.”
“Absolutely,” Dustin said.
As he served up the drinks, the kid babbled about Sawyer’s stats and how he watched every game. He talked about going to one…someday.
“Playoffs are starting. Nothing beats that. You should come,” Sawyer said. The new owner had shaken things up a bit, but it had been good for the team. And his buddy Liam, Sawyer mused, fighting back a grin. Liam Cruz had fallen head over heels for the gorgeous, funny, and smart woman who’d inherited the team last year.
“Yeah. Between college and working two jobs, there isn’t much time,” Dustin said, his eyes no longer meeting Sawyer’s.
He felt Addison straighten at his side. She pulled her hands from his and leaned on the bar, casual as anything, but he felt the change in her focus.
“Two jobs is a lot while you’re going to school,” she said, sipping her cola.
The band had gone back to a softer song, making conversation easier. Dustin shrugged. “You do what you have to do, right?”
“Is your schedule flexible?” Addie asked. The guy who’d been talking down to Addison when he’d finished changing was making his way to the stage.
“School? Yeah. I can only afford one course right now so most of the time I’m working. Parties like this and full time at a packagin
g plant.”
Addison reached into her purse and passed the kid a card. Sawyer raised his brows at her but she shrugged. Much like Dustin.
“We could always use hard workers at the Slammers organization. We offer competitive wages and incentives for college students. Call the number on my card and book a meeting with me next week. Whatever time works best for your schedule.”
The kid held the card like it was gold. “Seriously?”
Addison’s smile sucker punched Sawyer, like a fastball to the chest. Had he thought she was pretty? Stunning was a more apt description. Even more reason to steer clear.
“Yes, seriously.”
An older couple approached, and Sawyer and Addison moved toward the front of the room, drinks in hand.
“You do that for everyone?” Sawyer couldn’t figure this woman out.
She looked up at him, lips pursed in thought. “No. I don’t. But sometimes you just get a feeling about people, you know? I feel like there’s more to his story, and if I can help, it makes me happy.”
Yeah, he was currently very uncomfortably aware of knowing what it was like to get “a feeling” about someone.
“Don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone who finds so much happiness in making others feel that way.”
Tilting her head to one side, she stared at him a moment. An uncomfortable moment. “That’s too bad. Maybe you’ve been hanging around with the wrong people.”
He laughed again, though there was nothing funny about her statement. “You have no idea.”
When her lips turned down, his gaze focused on her mouth and images flitted through his brain, the idea of kissing the frown away popping in out of nowhere. Someone tapped the mic.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived at the best part of the night. Let’s make some money,” a loud voice called to the crowd.
Addison turned her back on him to look up at the stage, and Sawyer felt an inexplicable emptiness. There were so many things he did in his life out of obligation. This was no different. He was just doing her a favor. But unlike any of the ones he usually doled out, part of him was enjoying this one. Which was the strangest part of this completely weird night.
