by Jody Holford
Her dad stalked forward and slammed a fist on the table. His lawyer leaned in, touched his arm. “Henry.”
Her dad shook him off. “You’re making a mistake.”
Isla stood, finished with this conversation. “Then it’s mine to make.”
“Let me buy in,” he countered, straightening.
He had the kind of capital to do it, and he had a platform in the fitness world that they could build on. She could set the terms, the expectations. You could make him happy. Proud. Her heart constricted. How long had that been her goal?
Looking at him now, she could see she held the power, but it didn’t feel nearly as good as she’d hoped. Because she knew, even if they patched things up, their relationship would never be the kind Liam and Talia had with their family.
The truth was, she’d rather fail without him than succeed with him.
“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”
When he stormed out, Mr. Newn at his heels, she felt empty. Sad. And slightly overwhelmed. She sank back into her chair and, though she knew she shouldn’t, she pulled up Twitter. It had become a slight obsession, reading what people were saying about her. Like looking at old yearbook photos, she cringed but couldn’t help herself. She needed to know.
There was the usual commentary, making her roll her eyes and wonder when people would get over the cup thing. Addie had told her she should feel pride in being made into a meme. Scrolling up, she stopped when she saw the picture Ethan posted. He’d captioned it “old friends,” but the woman pressed up against Liam’s body didn’t look old in any way. She looked…flawless.
More than that, she was someone he could be publicly photographed with, someone he could date without jeopardizing his relationship with players or other members of management. Without sullying his reputation.
Isla’s throat tightened as she thought back to their conversation on jealousy. How well-timed. Her stomach spasmed even as she willed herself to ignore it. Instead of doing that, she touched the picture, made it bigger, zoomed in on the woman’s lips pressing against Liam’s cheek. She set her phone down and got up from the table. There were things she could, should be doing. Worrying about Liam wasn’t one of them. It was her he wanted to be with.
Picking up her phone and the day planner she’d brought in, she went to find Addie. She had some phone calls to make, starting with Jonathan Conroy. Addie agreed, her idea was strong, and she was going to make it work. By the time spring training started, she’d be ready for the season.
When she arrived in her office, her grandfather’s assistant, Kahlil, was leaving a stack of messages on her desk.
“Hey,” she said, setting down her phone and book.
“Hi, Ms. Bennett. Here’re your messages. I put them in order of importance. You have a conference call with Billy Hayes in twenty minutes. Can I get you anything?”
Billy Hayes. Farm team manager. “I’m good, thank you. Uh, actually, can you get me the farm team roster? I want to make sure I know who I’m talking about when he calls.”
“Sure thing, ma’am.”
The twenty-something man started for the door. She stopped him with his name. “Call me Isla. Please.”
He smiled, wide and genuine, giving her a nod. There. At least one member of the staff liked her. Plus, Addie. Two in her corner were better than none.
It was a start.
…
Isla leaned back in the leather chair, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. She was probably smudging her makeup everywhere, but her eyes felt gritty.
When she dropped her hands, a short, surprised squeal left her lips before she could stop it. Liam was leaning against the doorjamb, looking like he’d walked off the pages of Sports Stars Are Hot magazine. That was a thing, right? If it wasn’t, it should be, and he should grace the cover.
“Tired?” He actually had his jacket slung over his shoulder, hooked on his index finger. The tailored suit pants and white dress shirt weren’t even wrinkled. She was wrinkled.
“Red?” His voice was husky, and when she looked up from his shiny dress shoes, he was looking at her with an amused grin. “Long day, babe?”
Before she could answer, he dropped his jacket to her desk and put one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the desk, and leaned down to kiss her. She hadn’t even caught her breath from looking at him before he stole it again.
One hand went to his hair, and the other gripped the front of his shirt. He leaned back, grinned. “Miss me?”
Standing, she pressed her body against his and kissed him as if it was the last time. Won’t make you look like the supermodel. No. It wouldn’t. But it wasn’t the supermodel’s ass he was grabbing. It was Isla he backed into the desk as a low growl left his mouth and his fingers dug into her flesh like he couldn’t get close enough.
She kissed him until the image she’d seen earlier that day disappeared. When she pulled back, her breath choppy, his eyes were dark and intense. His hands still gripped her, but they’d moved to her waist.
“Wow, Red. I might stay away twelve hours every day if you’re going to greet me like that.”
Her hands were in his hair, and her heart beat so erratically she wondered if she should be worried.
“I guess I did miss you,” she said.
Liam narrowed his eyes, pressed her tighter. Which was strange, since short of removing their clothing, they couldn’t get much closer.
“Are you okay?” She heard the worry in his tone.
Not wanting to rehash the day or how she’d felt earlier, she smiled too brightly. “Of course. How was your…uh, the commercial? You have a good day?”
When she tried to pull out of his arms, get some space so she could catch her breath, his arms tightened.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Isla,” he said, almost like he was disappointed.
Lips pressed together, she tried to stop the needy words from leaving her mouth. But she was fighting exhaustion, worrying about what her dad had planned, wondering why the hell Bruce had canceled her conference call with the farm team manager, and her secret boyfriend had spent the day with a gorgeous freaking model.
She dropped her forehead to his chest and mumbled, “It’s just been a long day. Twitter is mean, Bruce is a jerk, and my dad is ramping up to sue me.”
Liam used his hands to lift her chin so she had to face him. “You saw the picture Ethan posted.”
She sighed. Apparently, she was transparent. Some strong businesswoman she was.
Cut yourself some slack. This is your first time dating a super hot baseball player while owning a team. Clearly there’s an adjustment period. She was nearly punch-drunk and should just back away, go to the apartment that still didn’t feel like home, and eat a pint of ice cream.
“Isla, what’d I tell you?”
“I know,” she whispered. “I do. And I trust you. It just wasn’t nice to see.”
They were still glued to each other when Liam used both hands to pull the pins from her hair, letting it tumble down around her shoulders. Immediately, her neck felt looser. Leaning in, he brushed his nose against her ear, and his warm breath made her shiver.
“I thought about you all day. I missed you.”
She shouldn’t need his reassurance. They weren’t in high school, and she knew his job entailed socializing with the masses and he had a large fan base, including women. Their relationship was new, and things were already heavy. They couldn’t even share the fact that they were together. Which might have been the driving force behind today’s insecurity. Breathing out those feelings and the rest of her doubt, she noted truth in this moment: this sexy man was staring at her like he could devour her.
“I’m sorry.”
He cupped her cheeks. “Don’t be sorry. Just talk to me. Before I forget, my mom asked me to bring you to dinner on Sunday. You good with that?”
She smiled. “You ever bring a girl home for dinner before?”
&
nbsp; Liam chuckled, and the pressure in her chest disappeared. “Not since high school. Seeing as Talia has a big mouth, though, I knew I wouldn’t get to keep you all to myself for long. I’ll warn you now, my family is overwhelming.”
“I look forward to meeting them.” Something normal in the midst of everything foreign.
“Good. Now. I have a surprise for you. Have you eaten?”
“No. We could drive separately back to my place?”
He shook his head, stepped back, and took her hand. “Nope.”
She tugged on her hand, stopping him. He looked back at her questioningly. “I’m pretty sure Ethan would have a fit if we go somewhere public for dinner even if we could pass it off as business or friendship.”
Liam closed the distance between them again. “We’ve barely started, and I’m already realizing we’ll have to stop hiding this, Red. It’s too complicated, and I’m falling too hard.”
Her stomach leaped, and she sucked in a breath. Before she could say anything, he continued. “I know we have to wait. I’m just saying, I don’t know if I can hide it forever.”
Her heels made it so they were closer to eye level. Leaning in, pressing her mouth to his, she kissed him soft and slow, trying to show him how much it mattered that he was willing to stand up for them.
Forever was a long time. “Let’s go one step at a time. I don’t want a crowd tonight. I just want you,” she said.
His forehead dropped to hers. “Then you’re in luck, because I’m taking you for dinner on the field.”
She laughed. “What?”
“You heard me. We’re going down to the field to have a picnic. And then I’m going to show you something that’s been missing from your life.”
Biting her lip and fighting the urge to happy dance on the spot, she tried for coy. “Oh really? I’m pretty sure you showed me that in the shower this morning. And last night.”
Liam’s laugh delighted her. It was loud and real, and she loved being the reason. He squeezed her hand and pulled her along. “You have a dirty mind. Just one of the things I adore about you. But I was actually talking about baseball.”
“What?” She had to hurry to keep up with his pace.
“I’m going to show you how good it feels when the bat connects with the ball.”
She didn’t want to put a damper on things, but she paused. “There are still personnel here.” She wasn’t sure who, but there had to be someone other than them in the building.
“Stop worrying. There’s like, one security guard who hovers outside for another hour or so, and the janitor was finishing up when I came in. No one will know.”
The excitement in his voice was so boyishly sweet that her chest filled with warmth. He stopped suddenly, whirling so their bodies came together. He gave her another kiss, but this one was a little rough and a lot thrilling.
“After that, we can do a replay of last night and this morning.”
She shivered, goose bumps dotting her skin just from the look in his eyes and the way he held her close.
“I think I’m going to like baseball,” she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Liam’s mood hovered somewhere between turned on and pissed off. He’d never paid much attention to the media commentary about himself because it came with the job. If he dated anyone more than once, it hit some form of celebrity gossip medium. Never before had he let it bother him, but the idea that Isla would feel insecure or unsure because of a picture with Lara, whom he’d never had any interest in dating, bothered him.
He had friends whose marriages and relationships had struggled because of media spotlight and speculation. He’d just never had anyone he cared enough about to worry. Isla was becoming a first in a lot of ways.
As they descended the steps to the field, her hand in his, he felt her stop and make a cute sound of appreciation. Eddie, the groundskeeper, had helped him out.
“You already have a picnic set up?”
When he turned, her smile touched something deep inside of him, like she’d uncovered the sun after a long winter. He was seriously sunk. With him on the lower step, they were eye level, and she put her hand to his jaw. He needed a shave, but the commercial had wanted a couple days’ growth.
“I figured you’d be hungry. Plus, I really think your childhood was lacking field time.”
Looping her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his in a way that diverted his attention from food and anything other than Isla, she kissed him. Kissing had always been a prelude for Liam. Laying the groundwork for the good stuff. But with Isla, it was all the good stuff.
“Thank you,” she whispered when she pulled back.
He meant it when he said, “My pleasure.” Tugging her hand, he led her down to the blanket beside the pitcher’s mound and sat with the basket between them. They’d slipped off their shoes before they hit the green space, but he should have thought to bring cleats. Next time.
Liam opened it up, pulling out the wine, cheese, grapes, crackers, strawberries, and other snacks he’d had his cousin throw together. While they munched on fruit and cheese, Liam told Isla more about his day, how Ethan had purposely captured the picture, and Bruce had shown up to ask him about accompanying him on a trip.
“He’s doing what he can to undermine me,” Isla said, huffing out a breath. “He scooped a conference call from me, and when I asked about the winter meeting for the GMs, he said there was no room for me.”
Liam didn’t want to overstep. Besides being a conflict of interest, he knew she needed to make her own decisions, come to her own conclusions. Bruce was being an ass. But Isla needed to sort that out for herself. Unless she truly doesn’t know what kind of power she has.
“Do you have someone advising you? I want to. I mean, I want to talk to you as your boyfriend who knows a hell of a lot about baseball, but I don’t want to influence your decisions.”
Isla lowered her hand without picking up the strawberry she’d been going for. Her eyes were wide, and it might have been the stadium lighting, but they looked a little misty.
“Babe?” Had he already overstepped? Dammit. It didn’t have to be him, but she needed someone in her corner who could guide her. How did he suggest that without making her feel like he didn’t believe in her?
When her grin widened, stretching her cheeks and brightening her eyes, he laughed and leaned in, cupped his hand around her neck, pulling her closer. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
“I haven’t been anyone’s girlfriend in a long, long time. I guess the label just kinda…I don’t know. Made me mushy or something. Ignore me. I haven’t had enough sleep.” Her eyes darted down, and his heart turned over, like a puppy going belly up.
“God, you’re incredible. You’re such a powerhouse one moment, and then the slightest of compliments reminds me how absolutely sweet you are.”
He hadn’t thought much about labels, either, but he knew, whatever else happened, he wanted her to be his. For them to belong to each other. Didn’t matter if it was too much, too fast. His parents had spent three days together on a college camping trip and known from the first second. His grandparents had married after a month. Sometimes life went that way. Sometimes a person worked their whole life, like Liam did with baseball, to get what they wanted. And now, something he didn’t even know he wanted had shown up at his bar and changed everything.
Worried he might scare her off with his train of thought, he pulled her up so they were both standing. “We’ll get to the food. Come on.”
Eddie had dragged out the smaller, easier to move ball machine and set it up by the dugout. Liam picked up a ball, tossed it a few times, then put it down. Turning to face her, he started to roll his sleeves.
“You have anything under that sexy jacket?”
She grinned and undid the buttons, pulled it off her shoulders, which left her in a camisole-type tank top. Standing there in her bare feet, pencil skirt, and what could be considered lingerie, she looked edible
. Liam licked his lips, and Isla tipped her head back, laughing. The sound filled the stadium and his chest.
“Okay,” he said, picking up the ball again. “First, how to hold a baseball.”
She arched one of her brows. “I know how to throw a baseball, Liam.”
“You’ve thrown a baseball?”
“Well, I don’t know. In school I think. But a ball is a ball.”
With mock disappointment, he shook his head. “No, babe.” Walking closer, he held the ball to show her. “You don’t want to grip it. You want to hold it soft, leaving a little space, like this.” He turned so she could see, and she leaned in. The scent of her perfume distracted him for a moment, but then he pointed to the seams. “You want two fingers over the seams, your thumb here. When you release, it’ll spin off your two fingers.”
He lobbed the ball straight ahead. Isla shrugged, picked up a ball from the bucket, and copied what he’d done. It arched up and fell about ten feet in front of her.
“Don’t push down with your fingers. You want the ball to roll off them.” Stepping up behind her, he put another ball in her hand, wrapped his arms around her, and showed her where to position her fingers, shook her arm a little, encouraging her to relax her grip. “Relax, Red. You’re wound tight.”
“Uh, hot baseball player smooshed up against me. Of course I am,” she muttered.
Liam chuckled, his hands dropping to her waist. “Smooshed? Guys don’t smoosh. I’m not even sure that’s a word.”
“Well, there’s a word for having your front pressed to my back while I’m trying to learn something,” she said, her tone amusingly snappy.
He kissed her neck, pressed his mouth below her ear. “What is it?”
“Distracting.”
She arched, pushed her ass out to move him back, and took a step away. Jesus, she was funny. And determined. By the time she’d thrown six balls, she had a better spin on it. Liam walked closer to the dugout and grabbed the gloves. He came back as she was throwing another ball.
