All humor drained from Bradley’s face, as did the color. Trenton clamped a hand on Brad’s shoulder and leaned forward. “She um, she filed for divorce.”
“Last week,” Shepherd supplied helpfully.
“Oh. Huh.” Xavier turned to scan the ballroom. “Is she here?”
Two yeses and a no answered him.
He faced the men, a smile on his face. “So which is it?”
Bradley ran a hand through his hair. And—holy shit!—it shifted. The part literally moved closer to his left ear. Xavier bit back a laugh. Trenton stepped in tight. Xavier took a step back, and once again Trenton approached. Xavier looked down into the salt and pepper hair. Or what was left of it.
Trenton leaned up on his toes to whisper, “She’s here with another guy.”
Attempting sympathy, Xavier nodded. “Sorry, man.”
He couldn’t believe he’d spent so much time worrying about what these particular three men would think of him. They had nothing on him. Not a damn thing.
Xavier was ripped. In fact his abs were six-pack toned. He tightened them, just to have his body scream the booyah! his mouth couldn’t. He still had a full head of hair and tonight, even if for only tonight, he’d have an amazing woman on his arm.
At least, he hoped she’d play the part. Maybe she’d just mingle and socialize and head up to someone else’s room when the night ended. It’d probably serve him right.
The sudden ill feeling in his stomach and the clawing need to pummel some poor unnamed bastard registered as jealousy. Awesome!
“Oh, sweet angel from heaven,” Shepherd breathed.
Bald and Balder followed his line of sight to the stairs as did Xavier. Angel was right. Or devil maybe, considering the red dress.
He’d never loved a dress more in his life. The thing draped her in exquisite precision, showing off every feminine curve of her slender body. He smiled at the creamy flesh peeking over the top of where the fabric dipped down in the front. From where it hugged her waist, it flared out to sway with each step. Mile-high red heels accentuated her killer legs. He’d love nothing more than spending the rest of his life memorizing every inch of her.
When they got back, he might just have to burn all of her scrubs and insist she wear things like this hot little number. Then he thought of the rest of the guys ogling her and changed his mind on the spot.
As soon as she stepped foot on the ornate tile floor, Trenton approached her. Xavier froze where he stood. As he watched one of his biggest rivals from his days at Central High School put on a charming smile. “Can I get you a drink?”
Frankie smiled down at him and shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Shepherd tried next. He stood, smoothed the front of his department store suit. “Hey, sweetheart. How about we take a spin on the dance floor?”
Again with the smile and thorough dismissal. “That’s very kind, but no.”
Bradley lifted his hand, reached for his head, then thought better of the motion. Xavier had to agree with his choice. Undeterred by the near de-toupeeing, Bradley stepped up to the plate, so to speak. He reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips when she extended it.
Through the entire exchange she’d kept her gaze from Xavier. That little fact caused his heart to pummel his ribcage and his pulse throbbed so loudly behind his ears, he barely registered the conversation.
“I don’t recognize you from good ol’ Central.” He didn’t let go of her fingers, her skin turned white from the pressure.
Her smile tightened, forced through her irritation. “No, I didn’t go—” She purposely lifted her eyes to meet Xavier’s and he only barely kept from stumbling back. Her lips parted. Her cheeks blushed. “There you are, lover.”
At the words, Bradley dropped her hand and the three of them turned toward Xavier. He opened his arms in greeting and she strolled right into them, melting herself against him. She brushed her lips over his cheek before pulling away to stand close by his side. She chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised, boys. I’ve only ever had eyes for Xavier.”
***
It felt so good to say those words out loud. She’d only had eyes for Xavier for a long time. He probably hadn’t realized it. Truth be told, she’d just figured it out.
Seeing the defeated expression on his face as the three other guys approached her, broke her heart. He stood off to the side, watching closely. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened to a muddy brown. And yet he looked so handsome in his suit. His very expensive suit. That’s it, she was convinced. Some things weren’t meant to be scrimped on. In some cases the name brand was the only way to go: Oreos, Doritos, Armani. And Xavier.
His hazel eyes twinkled as they roamed over her body, from her hair to the arch-killing red heels on her feet. She wasn’t sure the caress would be hotter if he actually touched her, but she intended to find out. Now.
She threw her arms around his neck, hoping he could handle playing the part she’d cast him in. When his arms circled around her waist and pulled her in tight against his hard body, she tipped her head up and couldn’t resist.
Her lips were on his before she’d made the conscious decision to kiss him. When his tongue streaked across her lips, she opened for him. He tilted his head and kissed her so deeply she felt it in her toes.
She would melt right here. Just like the Wicked Witch of the West, she would dissolve into a puddle. The Witch’s weakness was water. Frankie’s just so happened to be Xavier.
He released her from his kiss, only to press his lips to her nose. Another part of him pressed into her stomach and her heart soared in victory. She’d affected him. She wasn’t alone in her arousal. He dropped his mouth to her ear, his hot breath scorching her.
“You look amazing, Doll.” He kissed the tender place on her neck, making her knees give out. His hold kept her upright. “Better than amazing. You look good enough to eat.”
“Thanks.” The word escaped on a breath, dissolving into a hiss.
He eased her away from him, placing another gentle kiss on her lips then tucked her tightly to his side. His fingers wrapped around hers and the smile he flashed her sealed her fate. She was in way over her head.
“Boys, I’d like you to meet Dr. Frankie Holden.”
All three of them looked impressed. The heavy guy let his eyes travel over her again in a purposeful, lazy inventory of her assets. She felt dirty, wanted to cover herself. Xavier squeezed her fingers until they tingled. He probably didn’t even realize in another moment he’d crush her bones.
“What’s your real name, sweetheart?” Chubby licked his thick lips and rubbed at his mouth with plump fingers. “You must have been really expensive.”
Frankie anticipated Xavier’s movement before he could hit the disgusting guy. She tugged his arm down, which tweaked his shoulder just enough to ground him.
“If you’ll excuse us,” she said as sweetly as her clamped jaw would allow before leading Xavier away from them, deep into the throng of people.
She spotted an empty booth off to the side and steered an unwilling Xavier toward it.
“You should have let me punch him.” Xavier tugged on her hand as he stared over his shoulder. The murder in his eyes and menace in his scowl said she’d done the right thing by stepping in. “It’s been a long time coming, Doc.”
She slid onto the bench and scooched around until she sat alone in the middle of the table, surveying the dancers. Or she would have been if not for the mountain blocking her view. Patting the bench next to her, she smiled. “Join me?”
His eyes slipped shut and his nostrils flared with a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to. He wanted to beat the shit out of the asshole who’d insinuated she was a whore. She could live with that. She didn’t need him to bloody his knuckles to prove he cared about her. His defensive reaction meant everything.
When his eyes flipped open, he grinned at her. An honest-to-goodness, I’m-happy-to-be-doing-this smile. He slid into the bench, stopping when his hip bumped into hers.
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She glanced at his name tag and frowned. Matthew Xavier. That wasn’t right. She’d seen his medical records. Hell, she’d seen all his—
“What’s up with the name tag?” She looked pointedly at it.
He shot a disgusted glance at the plastic covered tag with his graduation picture on it. “Long story.”
She leaned forward and cupped her chin in her palm, resting her elbow on the table. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His sigh seemed to pain him. “When I went to kindergarten, it seemed every kid in the class was named Matthew. The teacher started calling me Matt, which seemed okay, until there were like seven of us who answered. I didn’t want to be Matt X, so I told her I wanted to be called Matthias.”
“’Cause that’s your name.”
“Yes.” He took her hand, the warmth spreading through her like fire over frost. “Anyway, the other boys said I only wanted to be called Matthias because I wasn’t cool enough to be Matthew.” He paused and looked down at where his fingers twisted and weaved around hers. “I insisted I was.”
“And you became Matthew.”
“Yep. But I never seemed cool enough for them.” His gaze darted around the room. “I need a drink.”
She reached for the name tag and carefully unpinned it from his lapel. She eased the paper out of the plastic clip and tore it in half. “You’re Matthias Xavier, Major League Baseball All-Star. You’re handsome and kind and you have more money than anyone in this room.”
He laughed. “Not exactly. See the guy over there at the bar?”
She squinted to see. “The short guy with the mullet?”
“Yeah. He started a social networking site and is worth a fortune.”
Frankie nodded. “Okay, well—” She cupped his cheek in her hand. “You’re better looking than he is. I’m sure he’s not near the ladies’ man you are.” Saying Xavier was good-looking? No biggie. It was the truth. Calling him a ladies’ man, though, had nearly choked her.
“Thanks, Frankie.” He leaned forward and ever-so-gently kissed her cheek.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
***
Xavier wasn’t sure anything else on earth could ground him the way Frankie did. No other person—let alone a woman—could have stopped him from putting his fist into Shepherd’s fat mouth. She’d talked him down off the wall, and he would be forever grateful.
He’d never have enough gratitude, though, for the way she’d made him feel when she removed his name tag, giving him back his identity. She probably didn’t even realize the meaning of the gesture.
He’d searched a very long time to figure out who the hell he was. He’d been born a third. He’d started out his life living in someone else’s shadow. Two someone else’s, actually. Then he’d been Matt, along with every Tom, Dick, and Harry at Rogers Elementary.
It hadn’t been until college when he’d made the baseball team he became Xavier. Everyone called him that. Teammates, coaches, teachers. Girls. The name gave him an individuality he’d never known before.
Matthew or Matthias, the third, was just another face in the crowd.
Kids admired Xavier. Men respected Xavier. Women loved Xavier, wanted to be loved by Xavier. Xavier stood out.
As long as Xavier worked hard, practiced harder, he could do anything he wanted.
“Xavier?” Frankie stroked his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He took off his suit coat and laid it across the table. “Why don’t we get something to eat?”
“And drink?” she asked with a laugh.
“Yeah. Something stiff.”
Eyes from every direction followed them as they made their way to the buffet table. A couple of people approached, taking a plate of their own. Each time someone came close, Xavier’s entire body stiffened. His smile screamed forced, but he graciously accepted their congratulations or condolences, and he always introduced her.
After leading her back to the table, he waited for her to slide in then placed his plate next to hers. “What would you like?”
“Oh. I can go with you.” She made to stand.
He held up a hand. “That’s okay. I’ll just be a second. What would you like to drink?”
“White wine.” He turned and she hollered after him, “And a glass of ice, please.”
So she planned to dilute her wine. Interesting. Apparently she didn’t want to get tipsy. He, on the other hand, would love to see Doctor Frances Holden lose a bit of control.
At the bar, he waited in a small line. Shepherd, stupid man that he was, approached him. “Hey man, I’m sorry I—”
“I suggest you stay out of my way.” Xavier didn’t turn around. “Frankie isn’t here to protect you.”
“Protect me?”A harsh bark sounded. “That tiny thing couldn’t protect a hamster from a stiff wind.”
Xavier was actually surprised at the calm he felt. He had no desire to break the guy’s jaw. Set him straight, sure, but his nose and dental work would remain in one piece. “Look, Matt, I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Frankie’s my girl and you’re an ass. End of story. So why don’t you do us both a favor? Go crawl back under the rock you slithered out from?”
Shepherd nodded, almost like he approved. “Wow, so somewhere along the way you found your balls.”
Xavier didn’t respond. Didn’t need to. He’d found more than his balls in the time since graduation. As he caught Frankie’s worried stare, he raised his fingers to his lips then blew her a kiss. Her eyes flew open wide and he smiled. He found he liked to surprise her.
***
Frankie didn’t like the look on the big guy’s face as he glared at Xavier. He was trouble with a big, fat, capital T. Under the table, she’d wrung the napkin between her hands until there wasn’t anything left. Stupid paper napkins. She would have thought a place as fancy as this would have cloth ones. But making hamster bedding out of her napkin didn’t top her list of worries at the moment.
Xavier crossed the room and placed the drinks on the table before sliding in next to her. The smile on his face revealed he’d been content with whatever had gone down at the bar, but she found herself curious and couldn’t stop the question.
“Everything okay?”
“Never better, Doc.” He took a sip of the amber liquid in the squat glass. “Never better.” Picking up his fork, he speared a piece of asparagus, holding it up in salute. “Let’s hurry and eat. I feel like dancin’.”
His request surprised her, but she didn’t say anything. She’d never thought of him as much of a dancer. She guessed he wouldn’t suggest it if he didn’t know how.
The band played covers from the late eighties, early nineties. It wasn’t Frankie’s first choice in music, but she didn’t hate it either. The tunes were all a little before she’d gotten nice and friendly with the stereo.
Xavier wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it on the table. He took a drink, leaving only ice cubes in the glass. He smiled at her.
She studied his face. “You really want to dance?”
“Hell, yeah.” He took her hand. “I’ve got the most beautiful woman in the room. I wanna show her off.”
Frankie’s cheeks heated. She hoped the dim lighting would keep her excitement under wraps. The music, slow and soft, would be the perfect start to their dance party.
He gathered her in his arms, holding her tight against his body. His warmth enveloped her. She shivered, snuggling closer. She hadn’t realized she was chilly until his warmth began to unthaw her. Unable to help herself, she laid her head against his shoulder and loved knowing she’d had a part in putting it back together.
She’d see him back in left field if it was the last thing she ever did. She’d pull strings if she had to, but she’d be damned if Xavier had played his last inning.
The music shifted into something more upbeat and disappointment surged through Frankie. She wasn’t ready to release her hold on Xavier. He wasn’t ready to let her go either, it seemed. His st
rong embrace continued as did his steady swaying and gentle turning.
“I can’t dance.”
“I never would have guessed.” She nuzzled his chest while his hands drew lazy circles over her spine. “I think you dance very well.”
“Did I mention I really like those heels?”
His question had come … out of left field.
She did a little stutter step, dropped her head, and looked at her red heels, turning in a circle between his black loafers. “Thanks. I like them, too.”
Her response sounded lame, but really, what else could she say?
His hand came up to cradle her cheek, his fingers gripped the back of her neck. “No, I like them because they put you at the perfect height for this.” And then he kissed her.
She’d died and gone to heaven.
Or she’d dreamed the whole thing.
If that was the case, this had become the best dream. Ever.
Xavier’s hands moved down over her behind and fit her more tightly against him. She moaned softly as his lips drifted from her mouth, over her cheek, down her neck.
“You taste so good, Doc.” He tasted her again. “Too damned good.”
She wouldn’t survive this night. His tenderness, his attention, negated all the jerky things he’d ever done to her. She loved being in his arms.
As another couple danced by, doing the hand jive, one of the Matthews from earlier laughed. “Seriously, Matt, you’re going to eat her alive. Maybe you two should take things upstairs and stop making the rest of us jealous.”
The woman slapped him, but laughed. “I’ll take you upstairs, Matt,” she slurred.
“That’s okay, honey.” The other Matt tucked her under his arm and they disappeared into the sea of people.
“I’m sorry. It’s really easy to forget this isn’t for real.” He shook his head, his expression sad. “Sometimes I want...”
She held her breath. Her heart beat so hard in her chest, her ribs ached. She wanted, too. Desperately.
Out of Left Field Page 12
