Undercover with the Nanny

by Skendrovich, Cathy

  “I’m sorry Coach Bivens had to step down. He was pretty good.” Mary took a draw on her drink, while another mom, Beth, Kate thought she was called, chimed in.

  “He was all right, but he never moved the boys around to different positions. I hope his wife and new babies are doing fine.”

  Kate listened to the conversation while staring out at the adults in the outfield, her stomach sinking. Not only did she have to speak on Mr. Cabrera’s behalf to Bobby’s coach, it seemed he had a new coach. This was getting better and better. Why would the new guy want to take on private lessons? He was already behind the eight ball, inheriting a team near the end of the season.

  “Well, his replacement is definitely easier on the eyes,” Mary added. Kate was surprised to hear all the moms titter and cackle like hens with a new rooster. She flipped her sunglasses over her eyes and wondered which man on the field—because there were three—was the coach.

  “Oh, my yes,” agreed another mom. “And he doesn’t have a kid on the team, so he won’t play favorites.”

  All the women nodded like bobbleheads in the rear window of a car. Kate returned to studying the outfield while the conversation around her stretched from just how fair this new guy might be, to how wide his shoulders were.

  One man in particular, a head taller than the others, caught her attention, but he was too far away. Something about him was vaguely familiar…

  “Oh, practice is over. Here they come. Beth, better get those fruit cups ready.”

  Kate joined the women as they all stood while the boys came running toward them, whooping and hollering after huddling for a team chant. Their short legs churned them ever closer, their grass-stained knees standing out against the stark white of their baseball pants. Kate could make out Bobby in the middle of the pack. He was running as hard as he could and looked happy, red-faced and grinning.

  The coaches followed behind them with more dignity. Their voices drifted across the distance. Kate returned her attention to them, and her stomach flipped like on a rollercoaster. She narrowed her eyes on the tallest of the approaching trio.

  It couldn’t be. She blinked, but the view was the same. Striding toward her, wide shoulders and chest encased in a body-hugging Padres jersey that couldn’t possibly be factory-made, was none other than her neighbor, Sawyer Hayes. The one who’d searched her apartment for the bogeyman and had kissed her hand like Mr. Darcy himself. He was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, carrying a couple of bats in one large hand. His head turned in her direction. She couldn’t see his eyes for the shades, but she knew the moment he recognized her.

  He grinned, and her task took on a whole new meaning for awkward.

  Sawyer Hayes was Bobby’s new coach? She’d only just met the man, and now she was running into him everywhere. Before her mind wrapped around that coincidence, Bobby whined beside her.

  “Kate? You’re here?”

  She looked down into the boy’s shiny, smiling face. So much for his memory, since she and his dad had both told him she’d be picking him up. But he looked so happy, she couldn’t scold him for his inattention, instead swiped his hat off his head and ruffled his hair before replacing the cap. Bobby grinned around the juice box straw between his lips.

  “Don’t you remember?” she asked him. “I have to talk to your coach.”

  “Oh, Coach Hayes is so cool. He played first base in high school and college. He’s a friend of Coach Bivens, who had to quit coaching ’cause his wife had twins. Yuck, two babies.” He wrinkled his nose. “Wanna meet Coach Hayes?”

  Kate’s gaze flew to Bobby’s new Little League coach. He was surrounded by the other moms. Of course, he would be. Hadn’t she heard them salivating over him like he was a giant box of chocolates?

  Before she could tell him no, Bobby grabbed her hand and towed her toward Hayes, who was smiling and answering questions in that sexy Texas drawl that danced up Kate’s spine like caressing fingertips.

  Her reaction had her digging in her heels. “Let’s wait for the other ladies to finish. Why don’t you go hang out with your teammates?” She took his now-empty drink container while he did as she suggested, racing toward the group of boys who were jumping and hopping about with imaginary light sabers in their hands.

  She walked to the nearby trash can to dispose of the juice box and glanced at Hayes, whom she could see easily over the women’s heads. He smiled and responded to their questions like a seasoned politician. She noted how he took time to look each mom in the face before answering whatever was asked.

  His face was shadowed by his ball cap, but she already knew his eyes were a penetrating green, while his voice flowed like testosterone-fueled lava. He stood military straight and listened intently when they spoke. They lapped up his undivided attention, leaving only after he’d granted each of them a personal audience.

  When she realized she was staring at his wide shoulders and chest, as well as smiling at the sound of his chuckle, Kate pivoted and glared at the distant coastal mountains. She was here to deliver Cabrera’s message, not fall under this man’s obvious spell. Besides, he was too cocky.

  It was unfortunate that out of all the men who could have replaced Bobby’s coach, swaggering Sawyer Hayes had to be the one, but she was a big girl. She could shut him down in the first inning. She had to, no matter how much the butterflies in her stomach fluttered at the thought of confronting him again. A man was a complication she didn’t need, even if he was mouthwateringly gorgeous. At least, that’s what she told herself, yet one more time.

  Soon his flock of admirers had floated off to their cars, with waves and “See you later,” and he turned his attention to Bobby, who was attempting to pitch the practice baseballs into Hayes’s open equipment bag. Sawyer hadn’t spied Kate where she stood by the trash, so she watched and listened unobserved.

  “Hey, Bobby. Don’t you have a ride?” He looked around; Kate remained out of his line of sight. Their gazes had met earlier, but, of course, he didn’t know she and Bobby were connected.

  Bobby tossed another ball at the bag, but it hit the side and rolled away. He pounced on it while saying, “Yeah. Kate’s over by the trash. She wants to talk to you.”

  Busted.

  Sawyer swung around, zeroing in on her with a smile. He strode toward her with a loose-hipped, unhurried gait that carried him to her side in seconds. She met his direct gaze, lifting her chin only slightly to do so.

  “We meet again, Kate Munroe, and the pleasure is definitely all mine.”

  Oh, hell. That slight, Southern accent flowed over her like butter melting on biscuits. She fought the urge to bat her eyes and cry, “Fiddledeedee” in her best Scarlett O’Hara imitation. Don’t be distracted. Focus, focus.

  “Hmph.” Jeez, was that the best she could come up with? She cast about in her head for something, anything remotely flirtatious. And got nothing. His green eyes sparkled, while his lips curved upward during the awkward silence.

  “Hey, do you guys know each other?” Bobby was beside them, rescuing her by setting the longed-for conversational ball rolling.

  “Sort of. He moved next door to me.” Kate switched her gaze to the boy, whose whole face lit up.

  “Cool. Coach Hayes can hit the ball all the way into the other playing field. Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom.”

  Kate nodded and watched as her young charge ran toward the park restrooms. Then she turned her attention to her companion, who was swinging the bats in his hand in a lazy pendulum arc.

  “I’d hoped you played baseball better than volleyball, but it sounds like you’re still hitting out of bounds.”

  His quick laugh startled her. She wasn’t used to people laughing at her acerbic criticism.

  “Touché. Yeah, I definitely don’t like staying between the lines.”

  She snorted, avoiding his gaze by watching Bobby disappear into the restroom. Hayes continued.

  “Cute kid. How are you two connected?”

  “I’m his nanny.”
/>   “And here I thought you followed me because you’re interested in me. I don’t know if my ego can take another blow.”

  Bobby was on his way back already, at a much slower pace. Kate rolled her eyes at Hayes’s come-on.

  “Your ego could stand a few hits.” He grinned, and she smiled in return. Damn, he was too engaging by half. She took a deep breath and pressed on. “Bobby’s dad wants to know if you could give Bobby some individual batting and catching lessons. They have a park near their house, and he’d pay you quite well.” She named an exorbitant hourly wage. Hayes didn’t flinch.

  He stared into her eyes, and his smile lessened. His gaze cruised over her face, touching on all the individual parts until she had to look away or start blushing. And she didn’t do blushes. She was way more sophisticated than that.

  “I don’t really see the need for private lessons. Bobby plays like all the other boys his age.”

  Warmth and goodwill flooded Kate’s insides despite her suspicions. He may be a horn dog when it came to hitting on women, but his judgment of Bobby’s ability softened her opinion of him. He didn’t find her charge wanting, like his father did. But it was her job to secure his coaching services.

  “Yes, well, thank you for that. Coach Bivens had him sitting on the bench during games, and Bobby’s dad would like to see him get more play time. He thinks some lessons might improve Bobby’s game.” Not that he’d actually see his son play. Mr. Cabrera just wanted the bragging rights of a star player as a son.

  Hayes ran his hand over his chin, the scratchy noise sounding unbelievably sexy. What the what? Hadn’t she gotten her knee-jerk attraction to him under control? Liking the sound of his five o’clock shadow was just plain weird, and so not like her.

  With her hormones under strict orders to behave, Kate studied Sawyer without even a twinge of a swoon. She squared her shoulders. At last, he shrugged.

  “Well, sure. I guess I can coach him. I won’t say no to helping a kid better himself. When does his dad want me to start?”

  By now Bobby had returned. His gaze shot from one to the other, while he rose to his tiptoes as if he was about to blast off. Whatever she thought of Sawyer Hayes, he’d left a positive impression on Bobby. That spoke volumes.

  “Mr. Cabrera thought at least two, maybe even three afternoons a week, at your discretion. School’s out in a couple of weeks, and Bobby goes to sports camp afterward, so he kinda wanted all this to happen before that.”

  “Please, Coach? Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?”

  Both Kate and Sawyer smiled at the age-old bribe. Sawyer hunkered down at Bobby’s eye level.

  “Do you think you need practice, Bobby?”

  Kate’s hormones went bananas. She had to stop herself from grabbing Hayes and planting a big, fat kiss on his lips, those lips that formed the question no one had thought to ask the boy. What he thought of himself. Mr. Cabrera’s abrupt decree that his son needed help seriously undermined Bobby’s self-esteem. At least, Kate thought so.

  She narrowed her eyes on Bobby, not wanting to miss an inkling of what his opinion of himself was. The boy pushed his bottom lip out and dug at the grass with his cleated toe.

  “I dunno. I don’t catch very good in practice, and I hardly play during games. And sometimes I strike out.” He raised his gaze to Sawyer’s, and it sparkled with excitement. “I want to hit and catch like you. You’re better than Coach Bivens.”

  “I don’t always catch balls either, kiddo. And I strike out a lot too.” He stared at Kate for long seconds, humor in the depths of his eyes. She looked away, fighting the urge to laugh at his innuendo. Didn’t the guy ever accept the answer no?

  He continued. “There’s always room for improvement, bud. So, if it’s okay with you, we could hang out together a few afternoons a week, toss the ball around and see if you can get more play time.”

  “That’d be so awesome,” Bobby enthused, throwing his arms around Hayes’s neck.

  Kate watched the interlude, saw Sawyer’s eyes widen when Bobby bear-hugged him. After a brief hesitation, one burly arm lifted, his long-fingered hand splaying across the boy’s thin back to hold him steady. His stunned gaze met hers, dazed and unsure of his status. Yet he continued to hold the boy. Her resolve crumbled.

  The moment ended as quickly as it began. Bobby released Hayes so fast he had to put one hand on the ground to steady himself. Bobby turned to Kate.

  “When can he start, Kate? Now?”

  She laughed past the lump in her throat, and Sawyer joined in as he rose to his full height. He swiped the Padres cap off Bobby’s head and mussed his hair before replacing it at an angle.

  “We just had practice, dude. How about tomorrow, after school. What time?” This last question he directed at her, and she was caught off guard, so engrossed in watching the play of emotions across his face.

  Again, Bobby answered for her. “Three. Three, right, Kate?”

  “Um, yeah. I can give you the address—”

  Sawyer nodded toward his equipment bag. “Bivens gave me the team roster. I’ll be there at three.”

  He held her gaze longer than necessary, as if he were setting up a date with her, not an eight-year-old boy. Her body tingled. Hayes was chipping away at her misgivings with his genuine niceness. What was the harm in enjoying his company for the moment?

  Chapter Five

  “Coach Hayes. Coach Hayes, stop.”

  Not five minutes after Sawyer had set up Bobby’s private lessons and said goodbye to him and Kate, the kid was chasing after him. Sawyer pocketed his phone and turned around.

  “Forget something, kiddo?”

  “Kate’s car won’t start.”

  Sawyer looked toward the Sentra, and spied Kate lifting the hood of her car. After searching her apartment the other night, he’d told Ian to immobilize her vehicle, forcing her to ask him for a ride. His San Diego CO had pulled the necessary Little League strings to replace Bobby’s coach with Sawyer, allowing him to get close to her, and subsequently gain access to Cabrera’s house for planting surveillance bugs. So far, the plan, or Act II as he called it, was unfolding like clockwork.

  Watching her stare into the engine cavity, his heart skipped a beat. Did she know anything about cars? He hadn’t planned for that eventuality, and that was stupid on his part. Stupid, and sexist. But all he said was, “Well, let me go over and see if I can help her figure out what’s wrong.”

  “Car problems?” he asked as he approached, his mild tone drawing an even bigger scowl across her face. He had to fight to keep a sober expression.

  “My car won’t start.” She sounded like a sulky teenage girl. “I think you’re bad luck. First, I have a break-in, now my car won’t start.”

  Glancing at the exposed engine, he replied, “Now that’s a challenge, if I’ve ever heard one. No one has ever called me bad luck. Besides, you didn’t have a break-in, remember? I’m innocent here.” He ducked his head under the hood. “Turn it over,” he commanded.

  She did as she was told, and the car responded like it had the other times, with just a click. Sawyer tsked. Ian had disconnected the sparkplugs, hiding the fact well.

  “Sounds like the starter. You ain’t going anywhere. Since your car is so new, I wonder if it’s a recall?”

  “I don’t know.” She huffed, getting out of the car and slamming the driver’s door. “I bought a new car so I wouldn’t have this sort of problem. Ugh. We have to get home. Bobby’s dad is supposed to be back from a business trip.”

  He’d known Cabrera had been out of town. One of his guys had tailed him to a small airport the other day, but the flight plans he’d filed had listed a small Arizona airport as his destination. He’d never arrived there, of course. He probably picked Ortiz up at some tiny airstrip south of the border.

  “I can give you a ride.” This was going exactly as planned. Thank you, Ian.

  “That’d be great, Coach,” Bobby chimed in. “Then I can show you where I live, and maybe you
could meet my dad.”

  Oh, he’d definitely like to meet Cabrera. It would be the closest he’d gotten to the Ortiz network in months.

  The drive wasn’t long at all. Cabrera lived in a gated community, but Kate had had the foresight to grab her permanent pass from her car.

  “Dad’s home, Dad’s home,” Bobby announced, and Kate pointed at the Cabrera house. It sat back a bit from the street, with a half-circle, stone driveway where Cabrera’s black Escalade sat. Sawyer swung the F-150 around and parked in front of the house. Kate and Bobby slid out of the truck.

  “I want Dad to meet Coach Hayes, Kate.” Bobby ran into the house, with Kate following more slowly. She looked back at Sawyer.

  “I have to check my work messages. After I meet Bobby’s dad, I’ll take you back to your car, like I promised, and we’ll try starting it again. If it still doesn’t, I’ll wait with you for a tow. My mama raised a gentleman.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him as if searching for a deeper meaning in what he said, and he maintained his half-smile through her scrutiny. At last, she nodded and headed toward the house.

  “Thanks, Hayes,” she called over her shoulder. “Gentlemen are a dying breed.” She disappeared through the front door Bobby had left open. Sawyer dialed Ian’s number.

  “Did I do good?” were the first words out of Ian’s mouth when he picked up. Being the youngest and newest guy on the team, he still sought Sawyer’s approval. Sawyer didn’t mind; someone that interested in doing well was an asset.

  “Perfect. Now I need you to put it back into working order. I’m at Cabrera’s. If the opportunity presents itself, I’ll drop some bugs.”

  After disconnecting, he rounded up his secret stash of bugs and hid them in one of the pockets of his cargo shorts, then headed for the stone porch.

  “Come on in, Hayes.” Kate appeared in the entry, and Sawyer dutifully stepped inside. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he took stock of his surroundings. The place was expansive, spreading out like a football field on all sides. It gave open concept a whole new meaning. While the floors were tile, the living spaces were designated by plush area rugs and over-sized furniture. Modern artwork covered the walls, and the ceiling was spanned by exposed beams.