Out of Left Field (Deadlines & Diamonds, #3)
Morgan Kearns
Copyright©MorganKearns2012
Kindle Edition
Praises for OUT OF LEFT FIELD:
“The dialogue in this book is a perfect example
of what romance is all about.”
~Nichole Severn, author of Bleed for Me
“…a story that comes to life in the palm of your hand and characters that work their way into your heart…”
~Linda Boulanger, author of To Dance with the Enemy
Praises for MORGAN KEARNS:
“I could read Morgan Kearns all day
and never tire of it.”
~Deena Remiel, author of Trinity
“Whatever Morgan puts in ink I will read.”
~Good Choice Reading
Praises for IN IT TO WIN IT:
“If sweet and romance had a baby,
this book would be the finished product.”
~Romance Novel Junkies
“…a gigantic 10.” ~skyla11377 book reviews
Praises for FADE TO BLACK:
“…a rollercoaster ride full of sensations.”
~Coffee Time Romance
“…an amazingly powerful love story…”
~Book Crazy
Available titles from Morgan Kearns
Deadlines & Diamonds
Out of Left Field
In It To Win It
Fade to Black
Bound by a Touch Novels
Heart Ache
Out of Left Field is a work of fiction. The characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarities to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 Morgan Kearns
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
Cover art by Char Adles
www.romancenovelcenter.com/charadlesperger
www.morgankearns.com
ISBN: 1-4750-7583-9
EAN13: 978-1475075830
Visit www.MorganKearns.com to order additional copies.
Xavier leaned against the door jamb. That he leaned against his left shoulder didn’t escape her notice. He really was a good-looking guy with his dark hair still damp from the shower and the five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw line, offsetting his dark pink lips.
She shifted in her seat and blinked away the lustful thoughts, staring him right in the eye. “You ready to admit you’re not fine?”
Laugh lines appeared next to his hazel eyes moments before his chuckle sounded. “I’m good, Doc. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She raised a brow. “Will you let me look at it?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t come here to show off an injury that doesn’t exist.”
“Then why did you darken my door, Xavier? I’m a busy girl.”
His gaze roamed over her, scorching her from head to Crocs. “I’m sure you’re a very busy girl.”
Her throat tightened, her skin tingled, but she managed a believable scoff. “Oh, please. Don’t try that crap on me. I’ve seen how women fall for your lines.”
To Xavier: When you stepped up to the plate, I had no idea you were such an amazing guy. I’ll happily wear “Xavier” on my back.
THANK-YOU’s
—because I couldn’t do it without you!
Thank you to everyone who has ever picked up one of my books! You make what I do possible.
To my go-to reviewers; Wanda & Raquel: Thanks for reading my work and sharing your opinion.
For making sure all the I’s are dotted and T’s are crossed, thanks to Dawn, Dawn & Kristi.
To Natascha: Thanks for busting out your fine-toothed comb. I’m thankful for you!
To Siobhan: You have a knack for making me laugh when I need it. Thank you!
Because a book is judged by its cover, I must thank Jimmy & Char for giving me an awesome one!
Everybody needs cheerleaders. I’ve got four of the greatest out there … and they’ve never read my books! Thanks to my kids for eating lots of corn dogs. Mommy loves you!
Happiness really is being married to your best friend. To my husband; thanks for loving me, supporting me, and being my shoulder to cry on. I love you!
Out of Left Field
(Deadlines & Diamonds)
Morgan Kearns
1
Snap, crackle, pop.
Matthias Xavier enjoyed that particular combination of sound when it came from a cereal bowl, but coming from his shoulder … not so much.
He ground his teeth, closed his eyes, and pushed the weight bar toward the sky. Focusing on the burn in his pecs, he relished the subtle pain telling him the exercise accomplished something. The pain in his shoulder accomplished nothing, except an assload of ache he’d sure as hell pay for tonight.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide his weakness for much longer, but exposing himself meant … well, exposing himself. He learned a long time ago someone was always ready, willing, and able to use any vulnerability against him.
He blew a breath out through gritted teeth, making a half-whistle noise. He huffed and puffed, but not from exertion as he set the bar in the cradle. He groaned and barely won the battle to keep from rubbing his shoulder. “I think that’s enough for now.”
From his position at Xavier’s head, his coach and best friend, Grayson Pierce, lifted a dark brow. “You didn’t finish the rep. You okay?”
No. “Totally.”
Skepticism shone in Grayson’s eyes, but he didn’t question further. Thank heaven. Xavier knew all about denial. His shoulder, though, yelled with all the bells and whistles of a freakin’ marching band.
“You just takin’ a rest or you done for tonight?”
“I’m done.”
“Good deal.” Grayson grabbed a towel off one of the weight benches and scrubbed his face. Folding it around his neck, he held an end in each fist. “I’m gonna hit the showers and take off.”
There was no doubt where Grayson would go after his shower. Home. The photo adorning the definition of family man in the dictionary belonged to Grayson Pierce.
Xavier waited until the door closed before rubbing at the deep ache in his shoulder.
Yeah, this sucked.
He straddled the weight bench and considered his options. If he mentioned the injury to one of the trainers or the PT crew or, even worse, Doc, he’d be replaced until he healed. Not out of spite, just reality. Cold, hard, unforgiving reality. Santiago would step into left field and Xavier knew he might never evict the guy.
He also knew if he didn’t say something, he’d face another sleepless night.
He stood. Decision made. Who needed sleep? He’d sleep when he was dead.
As long as he didn’t move his arm, he was fine. So he tucked it against his side and headed for the locker room. When only the echo of dripping water answered the call of his footsteps, he smiled. Alone. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his shoulder. Alone with his pain.
He ducked into the shower, using the cold tiled wall as a support to keep his shoulder elevated. He scrubbed his hair and washed his face. Given his status as an athlete, he really should have been more coordinated. But using his left hand to do things made him feel like an idiot. Like a child. Like a freakin’ invalid!
“Xavier?”
“Shit!” He cupped himself and turned off the water. The quick motion of his arm brought back the rat-a-tat-tat of the drum cadence.
“I’m sorry to … um …” The blush on Doc’s face made her almost adorable. Almost. She whirled around and he add
ressed her back.
“What the hell are you doing, bursting in here? Wasn’t the shower a dead giveaway I’d be naked?”
The short blond ponytail at the base of her neck wagged back and forth. “Sorry, X.”
He took the towel from the bar and rubbed at his hair and face. Left-handed. He was damned relieved she couldn’t see his struggle as he tried to secure it around his waist. After he’d tucked the edge against his hip, he stepped toward her.
“You can turn around, Doc, I’m decent.”
Her cheeks still sported a tinge of pink as she faced him, but her expression translated into all business. “A little bird mentioned you might need to talk to me.”
“Did this damn big stool pigeon look anything like Pierce?”
She rolled her eyes. “He only mentioned your shoulder might be bothering you. Is it?”
“I’m fine.”
Again with the eye roll. “I didn’t ask about your overall wellbeing, X. I asked about your shoulder.”
She reached out and stepped toward him. He stepped back, his eyes narrowing and his lips tightening into a scowl. “I said. I’m. Fine.”
Instead of looking threatened or offended, the annoying woman had the audacity to smile. She actually smiled … and laughed. He had the sudden urge to shake her. Didn’t she know he was a force to be reckoned with when he got good and pissed off?
She slowly dropped her hand and slipped it into the pocket of her navy blue scrubs. She shook her head and murmured, “I can’t fix stupid.”
He was about ready to tell her where she could stick her attitude when she sighed.
“I am here to help you, Xavier. If you have an issue with your shoulder, you know as well as I do it needs to be addressed. But if you’re too stupid to admit it, then I guess there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Like I said, I’m fine.”
“You’ll let me know when you’re not fine?” Her tenderness and gentle tone pissed him off. Not because she patronized him. Doc didn’t patronize. She was completely genuine. The damned woman cared about him. Or about his physical wellbeing, rather. But only because she got paid big bucks to care.
Still … the way she cared, the way she checked on him, made him feel special in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. Feeling anything around Doc—around any woman—didn’t work for him. Especially when said woman made every guy on the team feel like the most important man in her life while she worked her magic.
Wrapping an elbow or ankle, massaging a quad, or administering the physical therapy to put them back in the game, Doc was there, front and center, for all of them. More than one guy had faked a groin injury or extended an invite to join him in the whirlpool for a soak.
Doc took their suggestive comments in stride. Although Xavier prided himself on making inappropriate innuendos to women, Doc was different. Maybe he did have scruples. Hell, maybe he respected her. Imagine that.
“Doc, if I’m not fine, you’ll be the first to know.” Even as he made the statement, he knew damned well, she’d be the last to know.
***
Frankie didn’t believe Xavier. No doubt he wasn’t aware how he held his right arm cradled to his abdomen. Nor did he realize she’d witnessed the way he’d used the wall of the shower to support his shoulder. The guy was in pain.
She’d been able to watch him without an ounce of admiration. Until he’d turned around. The way his enormous hand covered his private parts made her blush from tresses to toenails. Even now, sitting alone in her office, she felt the heat blaze in her cheeks.
What the hell was wrong with her? She was a doctor for hell’s sake. She’d seen men naked before. A lot of men. More men than she could count.
Good grief. That made her sound like some kind of slut. She wasn’t a slut. She shook her head and clarified herself to … herself.
She’d lost it. Seriously, lost it.
First, she’d blushed over a naked man holding his junk in a shower she barged into and now … yeah. Well, now, she was defending her non-slut status to herself.
What next?
“Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
Oh, hell! Now she was talking to the damned voices in her head.
She eyed the framed degree on her wall, the one from University of Nevada Las Vegas proclaiming Frances Maureen Holden to be a Doctor of Physical Therapy. Would the Powers-That-Be have been comfortable giving her that fancy piece of paper, if they’d known about these little conversations she conducted?
Probably.
She hoped so.
Surely she wasn’t the only one who held complicated dialog all by their lonesome.
“Doc?”
She jumped and a deep, amused rumble soothed—and irritated her.
Xavier leaned against the door jamb. That he leaned against his left shoulder didn’t escape her notice. He really was a good-looking guy with his dark hair still damp from the shower and the five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw line, offsetting his dark pink lips.
She shifted in her seat and blinked away the lustful thoughts, staring him right in the eye. “You ready to admit you’re not fine?”
Laugh lines appeared next to his hazel eyes moments before his chuckle sounded. “I’m good, Doc. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She raised a brow. “Will you let me look at it?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t come here to show off an injury that doesn’t exist.”
“Then why did you darken my door, Xavier? I’m a busy girl.”
His gaze roamed over her, scorching her from head to Crocs. “I’m sure you’re a very busy girl.”
Her throat tightened, her skin tingled, but she managed a believable scoff. “Oh, please. Don’t try that crap on me. I’ve seen how women fall for your lines.” She huffed and stood. Pressing her hands against the top of her desk, she leaned forward. “I’m worried you’re stupid enough to ignore an injury until it’s not easily fixed.”
“So you only care because you’re bein’ paid to.”
“Yep.”
“That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Don’t get all butt hurt, X. I’m not your kinda woman anyway.”
At least he had the courtesy to look offended. “And what kinda woman would that be?”
She clutched her breasts through her scrubs and his eyes followed posthaste. “These are real.”
When the words flew out of her mouth, she was as surprised as he was by her outburst. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he just stared at her, and she realized she’d thrown down a gauntlet. Or had she?
His laugh was a bit sardonic. He nodded. “You’re probably right, Doc. You’re not my kinda woman.”
As he turned on his heel and walked out of her office, she should have been relieved he hadn’t pushed the issue. Yeah, should have in one hand, shit in the other. His refusal to at least soothe her with pretty words stung.
It wasn’t like she was attracted to Xavier. That wasn’t to say the guy wasn’t attractive. He was. Too attractive for his own good. He could have any woman he wanted, and he knew it. His bedroom probably had a revolving door on it.
She’d never thought twice about him until the moment in the shower. His vulnerability had called to her. The rock hard planes of his body had been nice to look at, ‘cause duh!, she had estrogen. It was the way he sucked breath in through his teeth anytime he moved his shoulder that made her cringe. The way he attempted to wash his body in uncoordinated motions with his left hand that broke her heart.
Dammit. He was really going to screw something up if she didn’t examine him. Stupid, stubborn man!
Tomorrow was Opening Day, the first game of the season. She’d give him one game. One inning of one game then she would turn him in.
2
Damn him.
She’d actually lost sleep over Xavier last night. Her eyes moved over the file she had on the desk in front of her, but didn’t register a single word. Even now, she worried about him.
F
rankie forced herself to read the lab results then signed her name across the bottom. A knock surprised her and the signature did a little hop, skip and jump at the end as she looked up. She bit her lip to keep the four-letter word from leaping off her tongue.
“Xavier. Hi.” She stood and walked around the desk, leaning her backside against the front. “What can I do to help you?”
He took off his Rockets hat and wrung it in his hands. He dropped his head and stepped into her office. She never would have dreamed confident, arrogant Matthias Xavier III taking on the persona of a troublemaking child entering the principal’s office. Surprise, surprise.
He closed the door and met her gaze. “Can I trust you?”
Unsure where this question would take them, she tipped her head to the side and cautiously answered, “Yes?”
He unbuttoned the front of his jersey and panic stuttered through her bloodstream.
“Um … what do you think you’re doing?”
“I was a dumb shit last night, Doc.” Two more buttons opened, revealing the top of his six-pack. And she’d be damned if she didn’t look.
“When are you not?” She’d been going for trite, pithy even, but sounded breathy and needy.
He smiled tightly and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Last night was the worst.” She raised a brow as he yanked his jersey out of his pants. “You were right about my shoulder.”
Out of Left Field Page 1
