Spring Training

by Roz Lee

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Todd took a few practice swings then stepped into the batter’s box. The past few days, he’d hit more homeruns than he had since Spring Training began. Several people asked what was up with his sudden ability, and all he could think to say was he felt good.

  It was the truth. He felt better than he had in a long time. The fatigue that plagued him due to the late nights spent with Mistress Lola had evaporated. He felt energized, and it was all because Brooke was with him. Loving her nightly was better than any performance-enhancing drug known to man. If he could bottle what she did for him, he’d be a rich man.

  Hell, he was a rich man, and it had nothing to do with the size of his bank account. Brooke was his treasure, which made the damned trade rumor hanging over him even worse. If he agreed to the trade, he’d have to leave Brooke behind in Dallas. She had a business there and family. Their Master/slave agreement didn’t extend to the outside world. He couldn’t just order her to sell or close her business and follow him across the country.

  “You ready, Todd?” He glanced to the coaching team situated behind the chain link practice backstop.

  “Yeah. Bring it on.”

  He grounded the first and second pitches down the third base line. Adjusting for the pitch speed, the third one sailed to deep left field. The fourth made it over the wall in left field. The fifth cleared the wall in deep center field.

  “You’re done, superman.”

  Todd nodded at Jake Tulleson, the Mustangs’ batting coach, and surrendered the batter’s box to the next player awaiting a turn. Dropping his bat into the dugout rack, he turned to find one of the younger players, Chip Matthews, staring at him. He’d never particularly liked the kid, who’d tried his best to weasel his way into a starting infield position ever since he came up from the Minor League two seasons ago. “What do you want, Matthews?”

  “I hear you’re being traded to the Waves.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Does it matter? You’re old news for the Mustangs, which means good news for me.”

  “How do you figure? They can’t trade me without my consent.” He’d be damned if he agreed to a trade if it meant letting this turd have his position on the field.

  “You know as well as I do that those clauses aren’t ironclad. If the Mustangs want you gone, you’ll be packing your shit before the ink dries on the trade agreement.”

  Todd skirted around the punk to get to the water jug. After drawing a large cup full, he sat on the bench to enjoy the cool drink. “I don’t have time to listen to a bunch of crap. If you have something to say, just say it then get the hell out of my sight.”

  Chip sauntered over to block Todd’s view of the field. “I see the way you’ve been hitting the last few days. Everyone is wondering what’s come over you. An old man like you, batting like that? There’s only one explanation for that kind of sudden improvement. Juice.”

  Todd, who had been trying to catch a glimpse of batting practice, jerked his gaze up to the vermin standing in front of him. He lowered his voice to a growl. “What did you just say?”

  “I said you’re using PEDs. That’s steroids to you old-timers. You all turn to them eventually. Your career is in the toilet, so what do you do? Pop a few gummies, pop a few pitches out of the park. Voila! You’re back on top.” The rat leaned down so his face was inches from Todd’s. “You won’t get away with it. The Mustangs already suspect, or they wouldn’t be putting you on the auction block.”

  Todd stood, fists clenched at his sides, forcing the smaller man to retreat a few steps. “You don’t know shit, rat face. Why don’t you crawl back into whatever hole you came out of and leave the ball playing to the men?”

  The idiot didn’t have enough sense to be afraid. He stood his ground. “Just you wait and see, old man. Come opening day, we’ll see who’s standing on third base.” With a sneer on his lips, he headed toward the exit.

  “I know who it won’t be. You!” Todd called to the rodent’s back, adding under his breath, “Asshole.”

  He sat down, rubbing a hand over his face. Damned idiot kid. If he spouted his venomous shit to the right people, all hell would break loose. The media loved to speculate about players taking drugs or doing anything illegal or immoral. They lived for scandal.

  Todd breathed deep then let it out. He couldn’t very well tell anyone the real reason for the recent improvement in his batting. Kinky sex with the woman he loved, with a Domme thrown in for good measure, was more scandalous than taking PEDs. Not to mention admitting to such a thing would mean dragging innocent people’s private lives through the mud along with his.

  He’d long since quit caring what anyone thought of his sexual proclivities, but there was more to consider than just him. Lurid details of his private life wouldn’t reflect well on the team and, in turn, would invite scrutiny of every player in the League. He was well aware there was a lot of kinky shit going on that was none of anyone’s business but the people involved.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Todd nearly jumped out of his skin, recovering when he noticed Jason Holder filling a cup at the water jug.

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “Just thinking.”

  Jason smiled. “About Brooke?” Drinking from his cup, he sat next to Todd. “You had that faraway look in your eyes.”

  An image of his slave, naked and open for him, flashed in his mind. He’d do anything to keep what he had with her private. “No, but I’ve got a problem.”

  “The trade?”

  Todd shrugged. “Indirectly. What do you know about Matthews?”

  “The shithead? Not much. He thought he was going to get first base last year when Sean retired, but that didn’t happen. The only infield positions he’s not interested in are catcher and pitcher, because he has no talent for one, and he’s afraid his pretty face might get messed up if he played the other.”

  Todd smiled at his friend’s assessment of their teammate. “He just threatened me.”

  “With what?”

  “He knows about the trade rumor. He wants my position, and he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to get me off the team, even hint to the right people that I’m using PED’s.”

  “Well, shit.” Jason drained his cup, crumpled it in his hand and chunked it across the dugout. It hit the wall, ricocheting back at them. He kicked it to the middle of the floor.

  “I’m sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Jason had been accused of using PEDs last year and had come out on the winning side. Ironically, the reporter responsible for breaking the story as well as putting it to rest was none other than Jason’s sub, Carrie.

  “No, don’t be sorry. I’m past that shit.” His friend filled two cups from the water jug then returned to his seat, handing one to Todd. “We’ve got to put a stop to it before he brings a shitload of crap down on the entire team.”

  “Yeah. But I don’t have a clue how to do that. He said there was already speculation as to why my hitting has improved the last few days.”

  Jason harrumphed. “Brooke?”

  “Yep. But I can’t tell him that. He’d go to the press to expose my private life, and Lord knows the scandal from that would be worse for the team than any PED use, real or imagined.”

  “I hear you. Carrie and I had a similar problem, but it turned out I have an indisputable reason for not using steroids. You don’t happen to have a heart problem, do you?”

  “Nope. At least not the kind you’re thinking of. Brooke is my heart. I’ll agree to a trade before I’ll let that piece of shit, Matthews, drag her through the mud.”

  “Then we need to think of a way to shut him up before he screws the whole team.”

  Todd took a sip of water. “Now you know where I was when you came in. I was trying to think of a way to stop him, short of murder.”

  “Count on me to help you bury him.”

  “I’m sure you mean that in a figurative way, so thanks.”

  “I mean th
at any way necessary. I’ve got your back, bro. You can count on Jeff, too.”

  “Thanks.” Todd stood, gathering his glove from the back of the bench. “If you think of anything helpful, let me know.”

  “Hey,” Jason called to him. Todd stopped and turned to his friend. “Don’t let him get to you. We’ll figure this thing out. You just keep hitting, and everything will be okay.”

  With a wave and a smile for the intentional double entendre, Todd jogged out to field ground balls for a while. He appreciated Jason’s support, and he’d call out the cavalry, if need be, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Weathering a drug scandal might be the easiest path he could choose since he had zero to worry about in that regard. He’d never used and never would. The team had survived a steroid shit-storm before. They’d do it again.

  Still, it bothered him to think team management might think he was using. Maybe he’d be better off confronting them about their suspicions, offering to take a drug test right up front. But if they weren’t thinking he was using, he’d be throwing shit at the fan for no reason. That alone might get his ass traded.

  For once in his life, he almost wished he had a heart condition like Jason. That and a drug test would end any speculation about him using PEDs. But as solid as his heart was, he knew it wouldn’t stop Matthews. The man would find another way to muck things up. He’d never seen a more determined asshole. The best thing he could do was see that the man himself was traded. Why the Mustangs kept him was a riddle he couldn’t solve.

  ***

  Brooke lifted her arms above her head. Stretching felt good after hours of standing in the kitchen. She had two cakes and two different kinds of cookies to show for her efforts. She wasn’t sure about one of the cakes, but the cookies and the other cake were definitely going to make an appearance at Baked by Brooke. Adding a California Pinot Noir to the chocolate batter and glaze resulted in a rich dessert that tasted like chocolate covered cherries. People were going to eat it up, especially around Valentine’s Day and Christmas.

  After making sure her confections were tightly covered, she headed to the shower. Time had gotten away from her as it often did when she was baking. If she didn’t hustle, she’d be late for Todd’s game, and then who would eat all her creations? Smiling, she ducked under the spray, washing away fatigue and sweat from a day spent in the tiny kitchen with a three-hundred-fifty-degree oven going.

  Getting to the stadium didn’t take long. Driving Todd’s car since he’d bummed a ride with a teammate, she was allowed access to the team’s parking lot. The security guard at the gate called someone to help her with the goodies she’d brought to share with friends and family members in the clubhouse after the game.

  Todd had explained how the team celebrated the manager’s birthday every year with a potluck after a game. He had helpfully offered to have her bring dessert.

  She didn’t mind. It gave her an excuse to try out new recipes then quiz the guinea pigs as to the results.

  The Mustangs beat the Claim Jumpers by three runs, thanks to Todd’s homerun in the eighth inning. Brooke smiled as everyone in the clubhouse congratulated her man. He accepted the accolades with the quiet reserve she’d come to recognize as shyness. He played baseball because he loved the game and the competition. The fame was something he tolerated because it came with the territory. In truth, he was a very private and modest person.

  She loved that she knew him well enough to see what he hid from most of the world. Warmth spread through her when he spied her in the crowd. Excusing himself from the kids surrounding him with a promise to answer all their questions in a few minutes, he headed her way.

  “Hi, gorgeous. Are you here with someone?”

  She loved his teasing tone. “I was looking for my man. Perhaps you’ve seen him? He’s a homerun hitter, a real hero to children and bakers.”

  His eyes sparkled as he pretended to puzzle over her words. “I don’t think he’s here, but I am. Might I escort you around while you look for this paragon you speak of?”

  “You may,” she said, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I saw your homerun. You’re everyone’s hero tonight.”

  His arms slid around her waist, pulling her close. “I only want to be your hero.”

  “Always.” She traced the blue satin Mustangs logo sewn across the front of his red jersey. “You smell good,” she said, trying to move closer without causing a scene.

  “Only to you.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I promised the kids a few minutes of my time, then I’ve got to get a shower. Will you be alright hanging out in here until I get back?”

  She scanned the room. Besides the kids, there were about a dozen women she’d never met, wives and girlfriends, she supposed. One older woman spoke to her friend, Carrie. “I’ll be fine. Do what you have to do, and don’t worry about me.”

  He was immediately swamped by the kids, boys and girls alike, clambering to celebrate with the hero of today’s game. Brooke headed toward the one other person she knew. Carrie welcomed her with a smile, introducing her to Cathy Walker, the guest of honor’s wife.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Brooke.” The older woman’s smile was reassuring.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too. Todd speaks well of your husband.”

  Cathy’s laugh was rich and deep. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I’ve had more than an earful of complaints over the years. Goes with the territory, I suppose.”

  “I guess it does.” Brooke’s admiration for the woman grew. “I’m just getting the hang of being on the arm of a baseball player. Todd’s the hero today, but tomorrow he might be the villain. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the ups and downs of the game.”

  “Stick around long enough, Brooke, and you will. The secret is knowing the man behind the public persona. As long as he’s your hero, day in and day out, that’s all that matters. Keep that in mind, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Todd is my hero,” she said. “It just hurts when people say things about him as if he failed in some way. It isn’t like he wasn’t trying his best.”

  “I know how you feel,” Carrie said. “I’m still pretty new to this, too. It’s hard to ignore the insults and nasty comments from the media and, sometimes, the fans. I try not to listen. Jason takes it all in stride, but I can’t help but want to shield him from everything. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be vilified for trying to do his best. That’s what riles me.”

  “Ladies, ignoring it is all you can do, and, of course, being there to support your man when it becomes too much for him. And it will eventually. I can’t tell you how many times Doyle has come home in a rant over something said about him. I let him vent, then remind him of the man he really is.”

  “How do you do that? I mean...how do you remind him?” Brooke asked.

  The older woman raised her eyebrows. “Girl, if I have to tell you that, then we need to have a talk. Somewhere private.”

  Carrie burst out laughing. Understanding dawned, and Brooke joined her.

  “Laugh, you two, but it works every time.”

  They were still laughing when a young man joined them. From his damp hair, Brooke assumed he was one of the players fresh out of the locker room. “Excuse me, ladies. Mrs. Walker, have you seen my wife?” He scanned the room.

  “No, I don’t think I have. I didn’t know she was in Arizona.”

  “She came in this week.” Apparently not seeing the woman in question, he turned his attention to Brooke and Carrie. “Mrs. Holder. Nice to see you again.”

  “Chip.” Carrie inclined her head. “Have you met Brooke? She’s Todd’s girlfriend.”

  Brooke felt like squirming under his gaze. Though he smiled, there was something almost malicious in his eyes when he looked at her. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, not offering to shake his hand. The idea of him touching her sent a shiver down her spine.

  “I didn’t know Stevens had a girlfriend.”

  “I do.” Relief flooded her body
as Todd insinuated himself between her and the other man. Todd’s arm around her waist was a welcome reminder of his protective streak where she was concerned. “Why don’t you run along now?”

  The man sneered at Todd. Turning a smile on Mrs. Walker, he took his leave with a polite word.

  “What was that all about?” Cathy asked Todd.

  “Nothing. We just don’t have much to say to each other.”

  “Well, I can see that he’s no friend of yours,” the older woman said. “And here I thought you were a mild-mannered man, Todd.”

  “Not where he’s concerned. You’d all do well to steer clear of him.”

  “He’s married, isn’t he?” Carrie asked.

  “Boggles the mind, but yep. As a matter of fact, there’s his wife now.” He nodded toward the door where a woman stood, casserole dish in hand, looking around for direction.

  “She’s beautiful,” Brooke said. “And she’s married to Chip? Poor thing.”

  Mrs. Walker cleared her throat. “Remember what I said, ladies? I suspect she sees a different person than you do. She sleeps with the man after all.”

  They all broke out laughing except Todd, who looked at them as if they were nuts.

  “Private joke,” Carrie said by way of explanation.

  “Let me in on it,” her husband said, coming up to gather her in his arms from behind.

  “Later, Jason.” She leaned to one side to kiss his cheek. “Good game.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Could have been better. Good thing we had superman here—” He nodded at Todd. “—to save our asses.”

  “Superman?” Brooke loved the way Todd flushed at the compliment. “Yeah, he’s a superman alright.”

  “Cut it out, all of you.” Todd glanced around the room. “Where’s the birthday boy? I’m starving.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Todd kept Brooke by his side the entire evening as if he were afraid he might lose her in the crowd. After dinner, he took her around, introducing her to everyone as his girlfriend. He was constantly touching her in some way, holding her hand or keeping her close with a hand on her hip. She felt cherished and more than a little possessed by him. She kept reminding herself that, in this place, she was only a girlfriend, not the slave her heart told her she was.