Playing the Field: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel

by Jennifer Seasons

  JP arched a brow. “And?”

  The kid broke out giggling, “I can’t believe you used my song!”

  Neither could he. And the hell of it was, he’d played an exceptionally good game last night. Part of him was real worried that he’d landed himself a new walkout song permanently. But, if it made the kid happy then he’d just have to deal. Seeing him smile was worth it.

  Behind him came the sound of someone clearing their throat and JP looked over his shoulder to find Sonny standing there, her arms full of cut herbs from her garden. Just one look at her had his stomach coiling with need and his heart thundering heavily. He loved that woman so much it was downright scary.

  “Sonny.” Her name was the only thing he could say. Only thing he could think.

  With unreadable eyes she approached. “JP.”

  Charlie pulled out of his embrace and said, “I’m going to go make some breakfast.” The kid turned to leave but spun back around, his face worried. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?”

  “You got it, slugger.” Never again.

  JP HELD HIS hands out, palms up. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

  Sonny sent Charlie inside and stared at JP, swallowing against the tightness in her throat. Seeing him holding her boy had brought all kinds of feelings to the surface, and she was real close to crying. Nobody besides her had ever hugged him like that. And seeing the shortstop do it made her realize how much her son deserved that kind of love.

  And not just from her.

  Charlie needed to be loved by JP.

  All this time she’d been trying to protect her baby from hurt and all she’d succeeded in doing was keeping him away from experiencing love. With JP standing in front of her, his brown eyes earnest and unsure, all of her misgivings fell away.

  Every reason she’d ever thought of and every excuse she’d told herself fell by the wayside and her heart filled up with hope. JP was the one for her and she had to have the courage to take that next step—in spite of all her insecurities. The only thing they were going to do was keep her from having what she wanted the most anyway. But he was here now and she wasn’t going to let him get away.

  Setting the bundle of freshly cut basil on the hood of JP’s pickup, Sonny straightened her shoulders and walked right on up to the ballplayer. “I was really mad at you for standing up Charlie.”

  The shortstop inclined his head. “I know it.” He shifted his feet. “And I’m sorry for it. I was so wrapped up over us that it slipped my mind. It’s inexcusable.”

  She agreed. “Yeah, it is. If we’re going to do this thing, JP, then we’ve got to try harder. Relationships are a team effort.”

  His eyes narrowed and went dark with emotion. “Are you saying that we’re going to do this? You’re okay with everything?”

  That was the exact question she’d stayed up all night pondering. For so long she’d hidden from taking chances, afraid of what might be inside her if she did. For so long she’d used her old issues as an excuse to stay safe and alone. But then he’d come along and showed her how good it felt to be with someone who made her excited with possibilities. Who made her want to go beyond her walls and build something that would last.

  Someone who made her feel more love than she’d ever thought possible. And that someone was JP. World-famous baseball player and amazing human being.

  He was standing there in the shade of an oak tree, his eyes uncertain, and Sonny found that she didn’t like seeing that look in them. It didn’t belong there. JP was a cocky, self-assured ballplayer with a heart of gold. He simply wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with without his swagger.

  Sonny took a few steps until she was standing directly in front of him and tipped her head back. Everything she felt for JP she let show when she looked up at him and smiled slowly. As she watched, the uncertainty left his eyes and was replaced by something warmer and a whole lot more confident.

  And because she missed him and his smile more than she’d ever missed anything, Sonny said, “I’m saying that we can do this, but you have to do one thing first, Mr. Celebrity.”

  JP stared at her mouth and murmured, “What’s that, sunshine?”

  Reaching out a hand, she traced a finger over his chest and heard him inhale sharply. “You have to do that dance for me.”

  He frowned, confused. “What dance?”

  This was going to be fun. “The one you did last night. I hear it’s pretty popular. They’re calling it The Trudeau.” She and Charlie had watched it on YouTube about a thousand times. She’d laughed every single time. Sometimes the media did good things too.

  His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

  Sonny shook her head and traced her finger across the flat of his belly. “Nuh-uh.”

  He was silent for a moment and then said, sounding pouty, “You really want me to do it again?”

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist, biting back a smile. “Yeah. Then I’ll know you really love me.”

  JP pulled her in tight. “I do love you, Sonny. More than I ever expected to love anybody.” He started rolling and grinding his hips and his eyes lit with naughty humor. “But, if this makes you hot . . .”

  JP grabbed her butt and dipped her so low her hair touched the grass. It made her laugh from the exhilarating feel. “I love you too, JP.” And it felt so good to finally say it out loud.

  His hand was at the back of her neck when she straightened and he held her there, his expression suddenly serious. “I screwed up and I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t mess up any worse than she had. Only he hadn’t blamed anybody else. That’d been her doing. “I’m sorry too. I warned you about The Crazies.”

  JP smiled. “Yeah you did.” His lips brushed her temple and he said against her ear. “I’ve grown fond of them. They keep things interesting.”

  His mouth was heaven. “How handy for us then.”

  He laughed softly. “So we’re good?”

  If by good he meant amazing. “Yeah.”

  Without warning JP tossed her over his shoulder and clamped a hand across the backs of her thighs, making her squeal. “JP! What are you doing?”

  He patted her butt and headed toward the house. “It’s time you got over this phobia, Sonny. It isn’t good for your health.”

  His butt was right there and she gave it a good pinch. “What are you saying, huh?”

  He laughed and pinched hers back. “That I’m taking you inside and making you love Saturdays.”

  And he did. He made her love the hell out of Saturdays.

  Twice.

  See how Jennifer Seasons’s Diamonds

  and Dugouts series first started!

  Keep reading for a sneak peek from

  STEALING HOME

  Available now from Avon Books.

  An Excerpt from

  STEALING HOME

  When Lorelei Littleton steals Mark Cutter’s good luck charm, all the pro-ball player can think is how good she looked . . . and how bad she’ll pay. Thrust into a test of wills, they’ll both discover that while revenge may be a dish best served cold, when it comes to passion, the hotter the better!

  RAISING HIS GLASS, Mark smiled and said, “To the rodeo. May you ride your bronc well.”

  Color singed Lorelei’s cheeks as they tapped their glasses. But her eyes remained on his while he took a long pull of smooth, aged whiskey.

  Then she spoke, her voice low. “I’ll make your head spin, cowboy. That I promise.”

  That surprised a laugh out of him, even as heat began to pool heavy in his groin. “I’ll drink to that.” And he did. He lifted the glass and drained it, suddenly anxious to get onto the next stage. A drop of liquid shimmered on her full bottom lip and it beckoned him. Reaching an arm out, Mark pulled her close and leaned down. With his eyes on hers, he slowly licked the drop off, his tongue teasing her pouty mouth until she released a soft moan.

  Arousal coursed through him at the provocative sound. Pullin
g her more fully against him, Mark deepened the kiss. Her lush little body fit perfectly against him and her lips melted under the heat of his. He slid a hand up her back and fisted in the dark, thick mass of her long hair. He loved the feel of the cool silky strands against his skin.

  He wanted more.

  Tugging gently, Mark encouraged her mouth to open for him. When she did, his tongue slid inside and tasted, explored the exotic flavor of her. Hunger spiked inside him and he took the kiss deeper. Hotter. She whimpered into his mouth and dug her fingers into his hair, pulled. Her body began pushing against his, restless and searching.

  Mark felt like he’d been tossed into an incinerator when he pushed a thigh between her long, shapely legs and discovered the heat there. He groaned and rubbed his thigh against her, feeling her tremble in response.

  Suddenly she broke the kiss and pushed out of his arms. Her breathing was ragged, her lips red and swollen from his kiss. Confusion and desire mixed like a heady concoction in his blood, but before he could say anything she turned and began walking toward the hallway to his bedroom.

  At the entrance she stopped and beckoned to him. “Come and get me, catcher.”

  So she wanted to play did she? Hell yeah. Games were his life.

  Mark toed off his shoes as he yanked his sweater over his head and tossed it on the floor. He began working the button of his fly and strode after her. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to catch her. When he entered his room he found her by the bed. She’d turned on the bedside lamp and the light illuminated every gorgeous inch of her curvaceous body.

  He started toward her, but she shook her head. “I want you to sit on the bed.”

  Mark walked to her anyway and gave her a deep, hungry kiss before he sat on the edge of the bed. He wondered what she had in store for him and felt his gut tighten in anticipation. “Are you going to put on a show for me?” God, that’d be so hot if she did.

  All she said was “mmm hmm,” and turned her back to him. Mark let his eyes wander over her body and decided her tight round ass in denim was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  When his gaze raised back up he found her smiling over her shoulder at him. “Are you ready for the ride of your life, cowboy?”

  Hell yes he was. “Bring it, baby. Show me what you’ve got.”

  Her smile grew sultry with unspoken promise as she reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She pulled it up leisurely while she kept eye contact with him. All he could hear was the soft sound of fabric rustling, but it fueled him—this seductively slow striptease she was giving him.

  He wanted to see her. “Turn around.”

  As she turned she continued to pull it up until she was facing him with the yellow cotton dangling loosely from her fingertips. A black, lacy bra barely covered the most voluptuous, gorgeous pair of breasts he’d ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t stop staring.

  “Do you like what you see?”

  Good God, yes. The woman was a goddess. He nodded, a little harder than he meant because he almost fell forward. He started to tell her how sexy she was when suddenly a full-blown wave of dizziness hit him and he shook his head to clear it. What the hell?

  “Is everything alright, Mark?”

  The room started spinning and he tried to stand, but couldn’t. It felt like the world had been tipped sideways and his body was sliding onto the floor. He tried to stand again, but fell backward onto the bed instead. He stared up at her as he tried to right himself and couldn’t.

  Fonda stood there like a siren, dark hair tousled around her head, breasts barely contained—guilt plastered across her stunning face.

  Before he fell unconscious on the bed, he knew. Knew it with gut certainty. He tried to tell her, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Son of a bitch.

  Fonda Peters had drugged him.

  About the Author

  * * *

  JENNIFER SEASONS is a Colorado transplant. She lives with her husband and four children along the Front Range, where she enjoys breathtaking views of the mighty Rocky Mountains every day. A dog and two cats keep them company. When she’s not writing, she loves spending time with her family outdoors exploring her beautiful adopted home state. You can find her online at www.facebook.com/jennifer.seasons.3.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

  By Jennifer Seasons

  Playing the Field

  Stealing Home

  Give in to your impulses . . .

  Read on for a sneak peek at four brand-new

  e-book original tales of romance from Avon Books.

  Available now wherever e-books are sold.

  THE MAD EARL’S BRIDE

  By Loretta Chase

  WANTED: WIFE

  By Gwen Jones

  A WEDDING IN VALENTINE

  A VALENTINE VALLEY NOVELLA

  By Emma Cane

  FLING

  A BDSM EROTICA ANTHOLOGY

  By Sara Fawkes, Cathryn Fox, and Lauren Hawkeye

  An Excerpt from

  THE MAD EARL’S BRIDE

  (Originally appeared in the print anthology Three Weddings and a Kiss)

  by Loretta Chase

  Gwendolyn Adams is about to propose to an earl. On his deathbed. Because she comes from a long line of infamous heir breeders, she is being offered up as the last chance to save a handsome aristocrat’s dying line.

  The Earl of Rawnsley is in for the shock of his life: a surprise bride. No one asked him what he wanted, but if he may die, he most certainly does not want to spend his last days breeding . . . no matter how tempting and infuriating Gwendolyn may be . . .

  “The name is Adams,” she said. “Gwendolyn Adams.”

  He scowled. “Miss Adams, I should like to know whether you are trying to convince me to marry you or to kill myself.”

  “I merely wished to point out how pointless it is, in the circumstances, to quibble about our respective character flaws,” she said. “And I wished to be honest with you.”

  A wicked part of her did not wish to be honest. She realized he was worried about his male urges clouding his judgment. The wicked part of her was not simply hoping the urges would win; it was also tempting her to encourage them with the feminine tactics other girls employed.

  But that was not fair.

  They had turned into the narrow drive leading to the stables. Though the rain beat harder now, Gwendolyn was aware mainly of the beating of her own heart.

  She did not want to go away defeated, yet she did not want to win by unfair means.

  She supposed the display of her limbs—however much her immodest mode of riding had been dictated by the need for haste and the unavailability of a sidesaddle—constituted unfair means.

  Consequently, as they rode into the stable yard, she headed for the mounting block.

  But Rawnsley was off his horse before she reached it, and at the gelding’s side in almost the same moment.

  In the next, he was reaching up and grasping her waist.

  His hands were warm, his grasp firm and sure. She could feel the warmth spreading outward, suffusing her body, while she watched the muscles of his arms bunch under the wet, clinging shirtsleeves.

  He lifted her up as easily as if she’d been a fairy sprite. Though she wasn’t in the least anxious that he’d drop her, she grasped his powerful shoulders. It was reflex. Instinctive.

  He brought her down slowly, and he did not let go even after her feet touched the ground.

  He looked down at her, and his intent yellow gaze trapped her own, making her heart pound harder yet.

  “The time will come when I will have no power over you,” he said, his low tones making her nerve ends tingle. “When my mind crumbles, little witch, I shall be at your mercy. Believe me, I’ve considered that. I’ve asked myself what you will do with me then, what will become of me.”

  At that moment, one troubling question was answered.

  He
was aware of the danger he was in. His fears were the same as those she felt for him. His reason was still in working order.

  But he continued before she could reassure him.

  “I can guess what will happen, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because I’m the man I always was. A death sentence has changed nothing.” His hands tightened on her waist. “You should have left me in the mire,” he told her, his eyes burning into her. “It was not pleasant—yet Providence does not grant all its creatures a pretty and painless demise. And I’m ready enough for mine. But you came and fished me out, and now . . .”

  He let go abruptly and stepped back. “It’s too late.”

  He was in no state to listen to the reassurances, Gwendolyn saw. If he was angry with himself and didn’t trust that self, he was not likely to trust anything she said. He would believe she was humoring him, as though he were a child.

  And so she gave a brisk, businesslike nod. “That sounds like a yes to me,” she said. “Against your better judgment, evidently, but a yes all the same.”

  “Yes, drat you—drat the lot of you—I’ll do it,” he growled.

  “I am glad to hear it,” she said.

  “Glad, indeed. You’re desperate for your hospital, and I’m the answer to your maidenly prayers.” He turned away. “I’m desperate, too, it seems. After a year’s celibacy, I should probably agree to marry your grandmother, Devil confound me.”

  He strode down the pathway to the house.

  An Excerpt from

  WANTED: WIFE

  by Gwen Jones

  TV reporter Julie Knott has been dumped two weeks before the wedding. But when she follows a story to the backwoods of New Jersey, she finds a new marriage proposal, one born of logic. Can they keep their relationship simple, or will love come crashing in?