by Susan Hatler
The scenario seemed eerily similar to how Ben had sabotaged my project at the science fair.
“I understand why my grandma would be upset,” I said, letting go of Ben’s hand. “It’s frustrating when you have a goal and you work really hard for it, only to have it is destroyed.”
“Maybe there was more to the story than your grandma knew,” Ben said, giving me a long look. “Something he couldn’t tell her at the time.”
My mouth dropped open. Was he seriously trying to justify ruining my science project? I was ready to dive into the argument, but Moose starting barking. Leaning down, I scooped him out of my purse, and fed him a piece of croissant. Maybe he’d just been hungry.
“Saved by the dog,” Ben muttered.
Ida’s eyes twinkled. “The two of them argued so much because they had strong feelings for each other. I can see you two are the same way.”
Ben and I exchanged a look, and his almond-brown eyes seemed stormy with emotion.
“Well, this has been lovely.” Ida dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “But you both have quite a day ahead of you, so it’s probably time for you to get to it.”
My heart started pounding. The task. Please let it be something easy.
“Florence’s first task for you is about love and respect. She wants you to get a picture of the two of you on home plate at the Braves’ baseball park before the game. As you know, your grandparents were devoted Braves fans. Florence felt that this challenge would show how well the two of you work together under pressure. Good luck.”
Ben and I looked at each other.
“Are the Braves even playing today?” I asked.
“Game starts at noon,” Ida responded.
Ben turned to me. “That doesn’t give us much time. We need to go now.”
“Thank you for breakfast, Ida.” I pushed back my chair and stood. “We’ll be back later with the photo. You can count on it.”
A burst of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was all for love and respect in a marriage, but how were we ever going to get down onto the baseball field? One thing I knew, though, and that was that failure wasn’t an option. There was too much at stake—namely Jill’s wedding. Ben and I had to get that photo no matter what.
Chapter Five
By the time we arrived at the Braves’ baseball park, my stomach was a ball of nerves (no pun intended). I had no idea how we had managed to fake being Jill and Ryan well enough to convince Ida that we were engaged, but how could we possibly get a photo together on home plate when we didn’t even have tickets to the game? Oh, and we had the dog with us.
Moose squirmed in my oversized purse, so I leaned down and whispered, “Moose, hush, or we won’t be able to sneak you in.”
Ben snapped his fingers as if he had an idea. “Hand him to me.”
“Okay . . .” I looked at him curiously, but handed Moose over. “What are you going to do with him?” I asked.
“There’s no way you’ll get him past security once they check your purse,” Ben said.
“Well, it’s too hot to leave him in the car,” I said, worried about what to do with him. “Maybe we should’ve left him at Jill’s grandma’s house like you originally suggested. I’m really sorry. I just felt bad leaving him alone after he’s had such a traumatic day.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Ben waved my apology off. “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me. Go along with everything I say and do. Deal?”
I nodded slowly. “Just promise me we aren’t going to do anything that will get us arrested.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he promised.
“Lead the way then,” I said, hurrying after him as he suddenly veered away from the entry of the ballpark. I grabbed his elbow. “Where are you going? The entrance is over there.”
“Trust me,” he said, giving me a wink.
Realizing I had no other choice, I hurried to keep pace with him as we skirted the edge of the ballpark, weaving through the throng of people streaming toward the doors to take their seats before the game started.
Ben didn’t slow down at all. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. Moose seemed excited, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as he rode in the crook of Ben’s arm. I felt an extra twinge of warmth toward Ben. I’d had no idea that he liked animals so much, Plus, Moose seemed to like Ben, and dogs were notoriously good judges of character.
As we neared a service entrance, Ben slowed his pace. I gave him a side-glance, but he didn’t falter. Ducking into the doorway, we were immediately stopped by a security guard. My stomach churned. There was no way we were going to get away with whatever crazy plan Ben had cooked up.
“Where do you think you’re going with that?” the security guard asked, holding his cell phone in the same hand that he pointed at Moose, who cocked his head to the side.
Ben glanced down at Moose. “With this little guy? I’m going to work. He’s my emotional support dog,” he said, without missing a beat.
My jaw dropped open. His what?
“Emotional support dog?” the guard repeated.
“I can show you my ID if you need it,” he said. “But we’re both late for work. If I don’t check in with John in the next ten minutes he’s going to get on my back again. To be honest with you, that’s one of the reasons I have to bring this guy to work with me. He can sense when my cortisol levels rise so I can take preventative measures.”
I watched Ben lie seamlessly to the guard, and fought to close my mouth. This had to be the most far-fetched story ever invented. There was no way the guy would buy it.
“John is on a real power trip lately,” the security guard said, clapping Ben on the shoulder. “Make sure your support dog has his vest on next time.”
“Thanks, man.” Ben gave the guy a fist bump like they were the best of friends. “I’ve got that vest on special order. I had no idea how long these things could take.”
The guard nodded good-bye to us and then turned his attention back to his cell phone.
“How did you do that?” I whispered to Ben.
“Stick with me, honey.” He grasped my elbow as we entered the lobby, steering me to the opposite side to a visible sliding clothing rack. “Grab a uniform,” he said.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“The ushers are wearing the same uniforms that are on this cart.” He nodded to several workers lurking about. When I didn’t move, Ben grabbed two usher uniforms off the cart. Then he looked up and down two separate hallways, and led me down the closest one.
“Where are we going?” I asked, knowing there was no way we’d get away with this. Surely someone would notice we didn’t work here.
“Duck in here.” He opened a door and entered what appeared to be a utility closet.
I latched onto the uniform he held out. “We’re so going to get caught.”
“Not on my watch,” he said, setting Moose on the ground, and taking off his shirt.
My gaze flew to Ben’s broad, muscular chest, and I really couldn’t be blamed for wanting to run my hands over his well-defined abs. I mean, the guy had to be working out every day of the week to maintain muscles like that. Wow.
The corner of his mouth hitched up. “You going to get dressed? Or just watch me change?”
“I’m not watching you.” My cheeks heated as I lifted my lashes. “I-I’m just waiting for you to turn around like a gentleman,” I said, trying my best to sound indignant.
“Whatever you say.” He grinned as he turned around, making it obvious he knew I’d been checking him out. How embarrassing.
“That’s better,” I said, trying to maintain a little dignity as I stared at Ben’s back. Then I noticed him reaching to undo his pants. Yikes!
Closing my eyes, I spun around quickly, and stepped into the khaki pants he’d handed me, which were so not flattering. I wished they were two sizes smaller. But, oh well. Then I lifted my dress over my head, and held it against my che
st as I slipped my arms through the sleeves of the red polo shirt. At least the top fit me well. Not that this was a fashion contest, or anything.
From behind me I heard a soft whoosh, which had to be Ben’s pants falling to the floor. My heart raced. Right now, Ben had to be stripped down to his underwear. I tried to ignore the images in my head, my brain guessing whether he wore boxers or briefs.
Both images were appealing.
“I’m dressed,” I said, my voice trembling a little as I secured the hem of the red shirt at my waist. Was it hot in here? “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice unusually low.
I turned around, my gaze flicking up into those almond-brown eyes. The heated look he gave me sent an electric zip to my belly, causing my breath to catch. Had he had visions of his own about me while we were changing? He stepped toward me. The air between us thickened.
My heart started to pound so loudly I was sure he could hear it. His gaze held mine, keeping me under his spell as he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. I stood perfectly still as he threaded his fingers through my hair, lifting my long locks off my neck. He leaned close to me, stopping when his mouth was a few inches from mine.
I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to. If I just leaned a little closer. . . .
“You look too pretty to be an usher,” he whispered.
“An usher?” I asked, those two words jolting me from the spell, reminding me that we were here to complete a task. I mean, hello? How could I be thinking of making out with Ben in a utility closet? We were on a time crunch to get the wedding charm! I stepped out of Ben’s gentle hold, my hair falling against the sides of my face. “Yes, we should go do whatever an usher does,” I said, stepping around him and heading for the door.
“Sarah?” he said.
I pulled the door open for safety, before I turned around. “Yes?”
“Don’t forget this.” He stepped forward and brushed my hair back again, sending a wave of tingles up my neck where his fingers had touched my skin. He slipped my hair into the back hole of a navy blue hat with a red rim and a fancy white “A” on the front. Then he secured the hat over my head, and smiled. “There you go.”
“Now my outfit’s complete,” I said, my brain stuck on how he’d said I looked pretty. He’d seemed sincere when he’d said it, too, which really made me want to close the door and kiss him. I needed to focus, big time. I cleared my throat. “How did you know John was the name of the guy in charge around here?”
“Lucky guess,” Ben said, with a shrug. “Dressing as employees is our best chance to get onto the field. We’ll do whatever we’re assigned to do, and when we get close to the field then we’ll find someone to snap a shot of us on home plate.”
“Okay.” My gaze landed on his lips and I so wished I’d been more forward in the closet. Too late for that now. I pointed down a hall. “Some ushers went that way.”
“Let’s go the other way toward the field,” he said, hurrying down the opposite hallway.
Being a rule follower, more objections raced through my mind. But Ben had taken us this far, so I needed to trust him and do my best to pretend to be an employee.
“Let me check something. I’ll be right back,” Ben said, leaving me all alone.
The sun shined high in the sky as I glanced down at the green baseball field, my gaze landing on home plate. Although the game didn’t start for almost two hours, the Braves were warming up on the field, and a handful of fans were gathering in their seats.
“Hot out today,” a girl said, coming up to me. She wore an usher uniform like mine only her pants fit much better. I was totally jealous. “Today’s my first day,” she said.
“Oh? How are you liking it?” I asked.
“I’m excited since I’m such an Oliver Kelly fan. But I don’t have my name badge yet. Apparently someone in the office named Phyllis messed up the order, so the badges’ arrival has been delayed.” Her gaze landed on my chest. “Is that what happened to your badge, too?”
“Yes, poor Phyllis.” I absently placed my hand over the right side of my chest. “Hope John doesn’t give her a bad time,” I added.
“I hear he’s brutal.” The girl pushed her sweaty bangs off her forehead. “Well, I’d better finish wiping down my seats before more fans start to arrive.”
“Yeah, I should do that, too.” I turned away, relieved to see Ben appear at my side. “Where have you been? I think we’re supposed to be wiping down seats.”
“Let’s do this,” Ben said, handing me some towels.
“Where did you get these?” I asked.
“I have my sources.” He gave me a wink and then jogged down the steps toward the lower seating area. He glanced over his shoulder, holding Moose in the crook of his arm. “Let’s go, honey.”
My tummy fluttered at the term of endearment. “But what’s the plan? We’re going to sneak onto the field and pretend we’re getting home plate ready for a game?”
“We’ll improvise,” he said, descending the steps toward the dugout.
“I don’t how,” I protested, scampering after him.
“Leave it to me,” he said as Moose twisted his head in my direction and yipped. Ben scratched Moose’s head absentmindedly. “We’ll think of a reason to go there and then we’ll take a picture. Easy.”
“Easy?” I blinked, wondering what Ben’s idea of hard would be. But before I could say anything else, Moose yipped again, and leapt from Ben’s arm. I stared in horror as Moose took off running, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his ears flapping. “Moose!” I yelled.
“Don’t worry,” Ben said, before jogging after Moose. “I’ll get him.”
An usher crossed the aisle, holding a small black towel. His eyes bulged when he spotted us coming at him and he jumped out of the way as Moose flew by him, yipping several times.
“Who are you?” the usher asked, frowning as he stepped in front of us. “Where are your badges?”
Ben nearly plowed into the guy, but managed to stop in time. “Our badges are . . .”
“Coming.” I came to a halt just behind Ben, holding onto his arm as I panted, trying to catch my breath. “Phyllis messed up the badge order. We should have them next week.”
The crease on the man’s forehead relaxed. “Tell Phyllis she assigned you to the wrong section. This is my area. Good day.”
“Sorry.” I gave the guy an apologetic smile, then followed Ben, who had started moving again.
Once we’d moved out of earshot, Ben peered over his shoulder and gave me an amused look. “Who’s Phyllis?” he asked.
“She works with John.” I would’ve reveled in the fact that I’d talked us out of a jam, but I was too worried about Moose, who had disappeared from sight. When we reached the bottom of the stairs by the dugout, I scanned in all directions. “Where did he go?” I asked, starting to panic.
“Stay calm.” Ben squeezed my arm before he jogged to the dugout, calling Moose’s name as he went.
“Does this little guy belong to you?” came a male voice behind me.
The voice sounded mildly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with Oliver Kelly, the star left fielder for the Atlanta Braves, and current hottie-of-the-year in practically every magazine. His emerald-green eyes, trademark scruff, and signature tattoos made my legs go weak. He was also holding Moose.
Tough guy on the outside with a soft interior? Oh, be still my heart.
“Miss? Is he yours?” He smiled, revealing a set of straight white teeth beneath his full lips.
“Yes, he’s my Moose,” I said, then closed my eyes feeling mortified. These were the words I’d chosen to say to Oliver Kelly? For real? Smooth, Sarah. Very smooth. Not. I cleared my throat, fighting to recover. “I mean, his name is Moose. I’m so glad you found him.”
“He’s great.” He smiled, showing those straight white teeth again. “Exactly like the dog I had as a kid. My dog’s name was Ha
rry, though. Man, does this little guy bring back memories,” he said, scratching Moose behind the ears.
“Dogs are wonderful.” I reached out to take Moose, Oliver’s fingers brushing against mine during the exchange. “He’s a cute dog, isn’t he? Really cute. Not so well behaved, but still super cute,” I said, babbling.
“He’s not as cute as his owner,” Oliver said, a grin spreading across his handsome face.
Oliver Kelly just said I was cute! I so wish I had this on video. Oh, wait. I did have my cell phone. . . .
I pulled my cell out of my pocket and smiled up at him. “Mind if we get a picture together?”
“Sure, sweetheart.” He bent down until his cheek was against mine, helping me hold the phone up as I snapped the selfie. Then he straightened. “What’s your phone number, cutie? I’d love to call you sometime,” he said.
My jaw dropped open. Oliver Kelly wanted to call me? Wowzers!
“Actually, man, this is my fiancée.” Ben came up beside me, slipping his arm around my waist, causing my belly to do a little flip. Then he pulled me closer against him. “So, you won’t be calling her later. She’s taken.”
“I am?” I gazed up at Ben. I knew we were faking our engagement to win the wedding charm, but what did that matter to Oliver Kelly? Ben’s sudden possessiveness totally shocked me. But I couldn’t say I hated it exactly. I was actually reveling in it.
Oliver cocked a brow. “Yeah? So where’s her ring?”
“Not your concern, man,” Ben said, the corner of his mouth curving upward as his fingers grazed along my jawline. Oh, wow. “But I can’t blame you for trying,” he added.
Shivers race up and down my spine. Oliver had come up to bat and Ben had struck him out before he could hit the pitch. Er, or call me for a date.
“Are you really engaged to this guy?” Oliver asked.
