Her cheeks flushed. She’d talked in so many damned interviews about how difficult it was to be a woman in a man’s industry, and now she’d gone and done exactly what she hated men doing to her. She took a breath. “Look, I’m sorry. That was out of line. But Chris, what happens? If you turn down the Charlotte job? You would just stay here?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I like this town. I won’t miss Florida in the spring, I’ll tell you that.”
“This isn’t a joke. This is serious.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away on her palm. She hated herself for crying. She hated herself for caring about the team, and what people expected of her. She hated that she was actively trying to talk him out of being with her when it seemed like the one thing that would make her life incredibly happy. “If you stay here, you can’t stay with the organization. And we can’t have a public relationship. We couldn’t have a relationship at all. It would be unethical.”
“No, it would be unethical if you gave me preferential treatment. You’re not even willing to give me a job.” He laughed a little, then grew quickly serious again. “Maggie, I’m tired of pretending any of this bullshit matters. I don’t care if I never play another game. When I’m asking you to give me a reason to stay, I’m not asking for a job. I’m asking for you.”
Her tears spilled freely now. “And what are you going to do? Open a sports bar? This isn’t Cheers. You’re not going to be happy unless you’re involved in some way. I don’t want to be the woman who destroys your life.”
“I don’t want that either. But I don’t see myself having any kind of life in Charlotte, without you. And I obviously can’t ask you to walk away from the team.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I think if stay here, we’ll have something together. But I can’t take the risk without knowing you’d give it a shot.”
“I should say no.” She looked down, her laugh shaky. Here was a guy who was so good for her, in so many ways, and all she wanted was to run.
“Why should you?” He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, and she pulled away.
“What if it gets out that we’re dating? Do you know what that kind of scandal will look like? My family would be so disappointed in me.” She choked back her tears because it didn’t do any good to cry over milk you haven’t spilled. “I could ruin dad’s entire image. I would ruin yours.”
“Maggie, honey…” Chris shook his head, then slid from his chair to kneel beside hers. He took both her hands in his and squeezed. “You don’t want to be the woman who ruins my life. Why would you think I’d want to be the guy who ruins yours? We can be discreet. This isn’t like Jennifer Lopez marrying A-Rod. Nobody cares that much about either of us. We just have to use our heads.”
“Can you just promise me that it will be okay?” she asked pathetically, knowing what his answer would be. What any smart person’s answer would be.
“No, I can’t promise you it will be okay. I can’t even promise that we’re going to live happily ever after. But I can promise that nothing is going to happen if we don’t try.” He looked up at her, his face heartbreakingly honest. Maggie had the feeling he didn’t find himself in this position often. “I started falling in love with you in the batting cage that night. I’m embarrassed to admit that, but there it is. And I haven’t stopped falling for you. I’m willing to sneak around, if that’s what it takes, until October. Or next October. Or October ten years from now. I want this for us. I just have to know that you want it, too.”
She was moving before she realized her intent, which was to tackle him from his chair. His arms crushed around her and they both tumbled to the floor, hands and mouths already finding each other.
“I do,” she mumbled between kisses. “And I don’t want you to go to Charlotte.”
His hands groped for the bottom of her shirt, and she went one step further, whipping it over her head and tossing it away. She tugged his head down and pushed their mouths together, a sound between a sob and a moan slipping between them. Food, work, fucking baseball, none of that mattered as much as the rush of emotions and the feeling of utter rightness that gripped her.
Scrambling together in a tangle on the floor, they hurried to undress, to get to skin-on-skin faster than their frenzied, hindering help they gave each other would allow. By the time they were naked, they were both breathless, and she could barely squeak out, “Please tell me you brought condoms.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I had a feeling there was a fifty-fifty chance of needing them tonight.” He kissed her, long and slow, then growled in frustration before standing and sprinting into the kitchen. He pulled a box from his jacket pocket and, after a curse-filled second of trying to open one end, he just tore the entire thing in half. Condoms flew through the air and rained over the linoleum, and Maggie laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Then, when he was sheathed and slowly sliding into her, she was breathless for an entirely different reason. It might not have been the most graceful sex or the longest-lasting, but sex on the kitchen floor, surrounded by an exploded box of condoms, would be one of her most treasured fantasies from now on.
Afterward, when they were snuggled together satiated and happy in her bed—as exciting as the impulsiveness of it had been, the floor was no place for a thirty-seven-year-old back and forty-two-year-old knees—she leaned up on her elbow and said, “Wait… I thought you didn’t like to have sex the night before a game.”
He stretched lazily. “Yeah, well, you’re breaking a rule for me, I might as well do the same for you, right?”
She laughed, and he reached up to cup her cheek in his palm. “It’s going to be rough, Maggie. I’ll be away a lot, you’ll be busy… we’ll probably be eating terrible takeout every night because we can’t be in public together. But we’re going to make this work.”
“And that,” she said, leaning down to kiss him, “Is all I’m asking for right now.”
ALSO BY ABIGAIL BARNETTE
Bad Boy, Good Man
Surrender
Where We Land
THE SOPHIE SCAIFE SERIES
The Stranger
The Boss
The Girlfriend
The Bride
The Ex
The Baby
The Sister
The Boyfriend
THE BY-THE-NUMBERS SERIES
First Time (Penny’s Story)
First Time (Ian’s Story)
Second Chance (Penny’s Story)
Second Chance (Ian’s Story)
Baby Makes Three (Penny’s Story)
Baby Makes Three (Ian’s Story)
THE CANIS CLAN
Bride Of The Wolf
Wolf’s Honor
NORTHERN CIRCLE
Awakening Delilah
Writing as Jenny Trout
Choosing You
Say Goodbye To Hollywood
Abigail Barnette is the pseudonym of Jenny Trout, a USA Today bestselling author, blogger, and funny person. Jenny writes award-winning erotic romance, including the internationally bestselling The Boss series, as well as young adult and new adult novels.
As a blogger, Jenny’s work has appeared on The Huffington Post, and has been featured on television and radio, including HuffPost Live, Good Morning America, The Steve Harvey Show, and National Public Radio’s Here & Now.
She is a proud Michigander, mother of two, and wife to the only person alive capable of spending extended periods of time with her without wanting to kill her.
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Long Relief (Hardball Book 1) Page 8
