by Jody Holford
“We absolutely are.” Addie checked her watch. “Speaking of, I have someone coming in about ten minutes to chat about an intern position.”
“Sounds good. Let me know. I’ve got a couple of meetings and I’ll see you later tonight,” she said and because Isla didn’t care about protocol, she gave Addie a tight hug.
“Thanks,” Addie whispered.
“Always.” The businesswoman in Isla reappeared, replacing the soft look in her eyes with one of certainty. “I’m going to draft a follow up email to the one you sent when you started the wellness initiative. Now that you’ve reached out to several players and implemented changes in their lives in small ways, we have some evidence as to how your position is tied to meeting their needs.”
Addie tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s an excellent idea. Having Liam, Corey, and Tommy agree to be test run subjects helped. But now I’ll need to touch base with all of the players and the initial intakes might be time consuming. Once I get a read on everyone, it’ll be more about maintaining. We can share some of the results from implementing small changes for some of the front of house staff as well. It’s a great way to show the connection between all of us and the universal desire for everyone to find balance.” Ironically, she could use a little balancing of her own priorities.
“There you go,” Isla said, laughter dancing in her eyes. She knew what Addie was like with a project.
When Isla left, Addie made a few notes, more than a little curious about which of the players complained. It wasn’t the ones she listed because they’d volunteered, agreeing that it got harder, especially with the team doing well, to balance a career with growing families and changing lives. She’d only interviewed and met with a handful of them. Liam was close to several of his former teammates, even now that he worked for the organization instead of playing.
Pulling up the team roster, she opened her files to cross check which players she’d met with and which ones she still needed to see. Scrolling through, she landed on Sawyer’s picture and stats. Just like that, her mind wandered again, and it was almost like she could smell his cologne. When she’d gone home the other night, it had lingered in her hair and on her skin, making her wonder what it’d be like to have him in her bed. Then, she’d reminded herself that he didn’t even want to talk to her, never mind anything else. She’d set aside someone’s feelings to achieve the goal and that was not who she’d ever wanted to be.
She’d known from the second she looked at him that there was something special, something different, about Sawyer. More than just how he looked. He hadn’t been overly friendly and they’d gone back and forth all evening, leaving her decidedly unbalanced, but what resonated was that despite his reservations, he’d gone through with it all.
He’d more than stepped up without any reason at all.
Warmth washed over her before she could stop it. He’d smelled really, really good. Being wrapped in his arms like he was afraid to let her go helped her memorize the feel of him.
“Busy?”
Addie’s head snapped up, and she locked eyes on the object of her affection…no, lust…no, that’s no better… Heat swamped her cheeks and she forced herself to stay still so she didn’t toss any more pencils or other office supplies to the ground.
“Sawyer,” she said. Was her voice breathy?
“Addison,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. One side of his mouth quirked up and he stared across the room.
The use of her full name tweaked her heartstrings. He has every right to be mad. They stared at each other, her still behind her desk, him filling the doorway. He wore dark jeans and a T-shirt that fit his upper body perfectly. When he folded his sculpted arms over his wide chest, she saw the tattoo curling around his biceps. Her eyes traveled down and again she marveled at how such a large man could move with such ease and grace as he held her close on the dance floor. By the time her gaze made it back to his, her skin was heated. But when she saw the amused look in his brown eyes, her cheeks flamed.
“See something you like?” He came all the way into the room. It wasn’t a large office but with him in it, there didn’t seem to be enough air for the both of them.
Arrogant. Now he’d think she was just like any other woman who wanted him for his looks or what he could offer. “Uh, sorry about that. My mind wandered. What are you doing here?”
He arched a brow but she looked away, busying herself by piling up her papers and then standing. She came around the desk but still didn’t meet his stare. She could feel it, though. Everywhere.
“I have to work out and practice.” He gave a frustrated sigh. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Her chin snapped up. Oh. Looking at him from this vantage point only highlighted his strong jaw, slightly crooked nose, and the lines around his eyes. He looked tired, and she immediately wanted to ask why. She didn’t have any right to. Unless…
“I feel horrible. I’m so sorry about so many things. What I did was wrong. All of it.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze softening—or maybe that was just her hopeful imagination. He said nothing, and nerves ran around in opposite directions inside her, banging into each other. She willed herself to take a deep breath.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’d like to ask for it. You probably have people taking advantage of you all the time, and I never intended to be one of them.”
She bit her lip to keep from babbling on and on. She hated how much she wanted to step into him, to hug him close. But even if she hadn’t been such an idiot the other night, she had her own lines in the sand, including a strict no dating anyone from work policy. Her career, and the things she tried to achieve in connection with it, were too important to let a relationship interfere. The one time she’d crossed that line, the man had stomped on her heart and stolen her marketing ideas, earning himself a corner office and a promotion.
“I was mad,” Sawyer said.
Air whooshed out of her lungs at the break in the silence. “You have every right to be. I truly am sorry.”
He nodded. “I’m not as mad anymore.”
Addie’s heartbeat stuttered. “You’re not?”
“Not really. The night went pretty well. My date kept her hands to herself. You raised money. And now I don’t have to do the game show. Correct?”
She nodded. She’d figure something out. “I’m still sorry,” she whispered.
He stepped closer, reached out like he was going to touch her, and then tucked his hand back in his pocket. “Whatever. It’s done. We both got something out of it…and you still owe me.”
There was a smile in his voice and the idea of owing him warmed her because it meant she’d get to see him again. Which was not the point of any of this. While that might be true, she couldn’t help the way his husky voice slid over her skin like fragrant bubbles in the tub.
His gaze softened and she realized she’d been staring. Sawyer cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “The thing is, I started thinking about why you did all of those things. And I’m still stuck on the fact that none of it was for yourself.”
Needing the breathing room, she moved closer to her desk, sweeping her finger along the edge. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No. It doesn’t. But it does make you unique.”
Her head snapped up. When their gazes locked, her stomach tumbled in a way that was not wise. “I got too wrapped up in what I wanted.”
His eyes moved to her lips and back up as he moved closer. “Maybe. And maybe I got too wrapped up in being mad to realize that a few hours of my time for a good cause isn’t such a bad thing.”
Hope surged through her. Something about this man made her want to bring out his smile. Despite everything, the little bit of time she’d spent with him had been more enjoyable—and electrically charged—than anything else she’d done for a long time.
“There were moments you seemed to be having fun,” she said.
She nodded, not wanting him to go and knowing they both should. She thought back to what he’d said when he arrived. “I’m glad you did. The energy is high with the playoffs. It’s pretty cool to be part of it. How’s your knee?”
He ran a hand through his hair and her eyes followed the movement. The tattoo—a baseball bat resting in a catcher’s glove—wound around his arm. When she met his gaze, she saw his had shuttered. “All better. Why?”
She felt her brows scrunch at the change in tone. “Just wondered. You were out a few games. You must be excited about the playoffs.”
“Of course I am.”
“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word, not sure how she’d changed things between them. Again. Addie didn’t know him well, but it felt like there was more beneath the surface. He was all cool and calm, but something stirred inside of him and it made her feel restless.
“I’m heading out to meet with a few players myself. After I interview our friend Dustin from the other night.”
It was only when Sawyer’s eyes brightened that she realized they’d been clouded a second earlier. With worry? Fatigue? She didn’t want to pepper him with questions that he’d mistake as part of her job. Especially since a big part of her didn’t want him to look at her like someone he worked with. She sucked in a breath at the thought.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Oh yeah? I’m glad he followed through. That’s great. What will you have him do?”
Addie leaned against the desk and Sawyer copied her movement. Their thighs brushed. Even through his jeans and her skirt, she felt the heat travel over her skin like a caress.
She cleared her throat. “There are several options, depending on what his skills are. I could use someone helping me with player intakes. I think I mentioned that I’m working on a wellness initiative and having someone do some preliminary checking would save me time. But Isla, sorry, Ms. Bennett, could also use an assistant in her office. If he wants to learn more about baseball, we can find something for him in that capacity, but if he wants more of an office position, we’ll have no trouble finding him something.”
Sawyer turned his head toward her and she did the same.
“You’re an interesting woman, Addie.”
“You said that the other night.” Maybe it wasn’t a compliment.
“It’s still true. You’re also kind. You go about it weirdly, but you have good intentions.”
She laughed even as the little wrinkle of confusion between his eyebrows tugged at her heart. Being around him was like being on a seesaw. She wanted to press her fingers there, smooth out the skin. Way to keep your brain on track. She saw baseball players all the time. None of them affected her like this. Just Sawyer.
“Kindness is the easiest thing to give and the most powerful to receive.”
Their eyes held until Addie’s pulse scrambled uncomfortably.
“Am I interrupting?”
They both turned like teens caught making out. Liam Cruz stood in the doorway. Talk about filling the frame. Liam was a wide-shouldered, tall, dark-haired former player who now assisted with managing the team. He was also Isla’s fiancé. Addison pushed off the desk and tried to think of what to do with her hands. She took a deep breath.
“What’s up, Cruz?” Sawyer asked. He moved over to his friend and they did the strange ritual men had of bumping shoulders and slapping each other on the back.
“Not much, man. I was just coming up to see Addie for a minute but since you’re here, we’d like you to stick around after practice today.”
“Any particular reason,” Sawyer said. His voice was casual but Addie noticed the way his shoulders stayed stiff. Was he worried?
“A few things to discuss with playoffs.”
The words lay between the two men and Addie breathed in the tension of their stares.
“Do you need something?” Addison asked, looking at Liam. She said a silent prayer that the warmth of her cheeks didn’t mean she appeared flushed.
“I do, but I can chat with you after. You coming for dinner tonight?”
Addie grinned. “Who’s cooking? You or Isla?”
Liam chuckled. “Me.”
“Then, absolutely.”
She loved her friend dearly but she had her limits.
“Okay. See you tonight. You want to walk down to the gym with me?” Liam asked Sawyer.
Sawyer glanced back and forth between Addie and Liam. “Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute?”
Liam eyed them both. Addie saw the big-brother speculation from her friend’s fiancé. Because her family was still in Colorado, Liam and his parents had appointed themselves her family and as Liam had told her more than once, they had each other’s backs. Addie wondered who had Sawyer’s back.
Liam gave Sawyer a hard glare, but Sawyer met his gaze and held it. The moment suspended and Addie’s breath caught.
Nodding, Liam said, “I’ll wait in the hall.”
Addie was still wondering what silent messages they’d sent to each other when Sawyer walked closer, crowding her in a way that made it hard to focus.
“I need your phone number.”
Her stomach twirled like an old-fashioned merry-go-round. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I need to make sure I can contact you when I need to cash in my next favor. Never know when I might need a driver.”
She smiled, biting her lip to avoid letting it take up her whole face. “Hmm. I do have some experience with that.”
They stared at each other for a beat, and in that quick second, a wave of desire pummeled through Addie. It was so strong, so sudden, it shocked her. She held out her hand, and he dropped his phone into it.
Pushing aside the nagging question of how many phone numbers this guy got in the run of a week, she typed in her details. She texted herself so she could reply. And now you have his number in your phone.
“Any restrictions on the favor?” he asked, pocketing his phone.
The laugh burst from her chest. “I don’t think so. Should I be worried? Do I need a safe word?”
His smile was gentle and relaxed. She liked it a little too much. He stepped back. “Nah. I understand ‘no’ perfectly well. I’ll see you around, Addie.”
She nodded, willing her heart to settle back to a regular pace. “Sounds like you will.”
When he walked out, she let out the deep breath she’d been holding. She was about to launch a team-wide initiative on finding and achieving balance. It probably wasn’t a good sign that she felt so unsteady on her feet or that she could easily picture Sawyer McBain being a man who could leave her off-kilter for good.
Chapter Seven
Getting through his workout and following up with a grueling practice would have been manageable, even enjoyable, if not for the ache searing from his kneecap outward.
The energy was electric. The team was stoked. Last year, they’d finished pathetically low in the ranks, lost their owner unexpectedly, gained a new owner who flipped things upside down and righted them again with incredible flair, and now…now they were going into the playoffs. Short of being brought up to the show, it was the biggest highlight of his career. He’d been close once before but never made it.
Now that he was there, part of this team who’d clawed their way up the ranks, a team he was damn proud to be part of, everything was tainted by pain.
“How’s it going?” The team doctor, Oliver Ryman, or Doc as they all called him, appeared at Sawyer’s side as he was wiping sweat from his brow.
“Good.” The less said, the better.
“That the reason you’re not putting all your weight on your knee?”
Damn it. Sawyer pushed both feet flat and ignored the razor-sharp slivers of pain. “You’re watching me pretty damn close. My knee was bent. So what?”
Several players walked past them on their way off the field and into the locker room
hallway.
“Heading to Salvation for a bit. You in?” Corey Dryer, their first baseman, asked.
Sawyer shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Corey shrugged and slapped him on the shoulder. “We miss you, man.”
When the guys were gone, Doc gave Sawyer a hard, assessing look. “You’re not hanging with the team now?”
Sawyer rolled his eyes and tossed the towel into a bucket. “Is it okay for me to be tired? Look, you did your assessment; you cleared me. I’m fine. I don’t need a damn babysitter.”
Doc closed the gap between them. “We’re heading into the playoffs. Do you have any idea how big that is? If you’re not one hundred percent, I need to know.”
“I said I was good. And don’t tell me how big this is, man. You think I don’t know? This is what we wait for, this opportunity. And I am hanging with my team, but I’m not twenty like the rest of them, and we have a game in two days.”
Sawyer started to stalk off, but Doc grabbed his arm. “Where were you?”
Sawyer sighed. “I hung out with an old friend for a weekend.” Not exactly a lie. The fact that the old friend was a sports med doctor didn’t need to be mentioned.
Putting both hands on his hips, Doc dropped his head. He was about Sawyer’s age and a good man. He’d been with the team a few years and knew his job well. He cared about the players and the game. He was a friend. And Sawyer knew he was being a dick to him.
Before he could apologize, Doc lifted his head. “I can give you a cortisone shot before the game. It’ll help if there’s any pain, and it won’t hurt anything if there’s not.”
They locked eyes, and Sawyer saw something he didn’t expect: Doc wanted this chance at the World Series every bit as much as the rest of the team.
Sawyer gave a short nod. Conversation over. There was nothing else to say after that. When Doc walked past him, he stayed there, staring out at the field, the bleachers, and the roof of the stadium. God, he loved it here. Loved it behind the plate, loved the smell of the turf, the sound of the fans in their seats, the scents of hot dogs and peanuts. The roar of thousands of people and the crack of the bat. The laughter of his teammates and the sound of his coach swearing.
