Moon Shot

by Tara Wyatt

  It was currently 3-2 for the Twins in the bottom of the eighth inning. They probably weren’t going to win this game, but winning wasn’t what mattered right now. Spring training was all about fine tuning the lineup. It was about seeing who was clicking with whom and making sure that the players got what they needed to reach their full potential, whether it was extra time with Abby, defensive drills, or maybe even a sit down with the team psychologist. And it was his job to watch it all and make sure every single guy got what he needed. His job to pull it all together. His job to create a team dynamic that allowed them to win as many games as possible.

  “Bats are looking good so far,” said Abby from beside him, squinting out at the field. “But I think you might want to send Smalls and Brixton my way.”

  Javi nodded, as he’d been thinking the same thing. “I’ll have them come in an hour early tomorrow, and they’re all yours.”

  Abby simply nodded back and chewed her gum. Javi studied her, waiting for that zing of attraction to zip through him, but it wasn’t there. All he felt looking at Abby was friendship and collegial respect. Sure, he could appreciate the fact that she was beautiful, but it just didn’t feel the way it had before. Before he’d found out about her and Jake. Before the engagement and subsequent wedding. Before seeing how obviously deliriously in love they were. A part of him wondered if he’d really ever felt anything more than friendship for her. If maybe he’d been lonely and projecting onto her. Had he really been into her, or had he just known she was a safe choice? A friend who’d never hurt him, or accuse him of choosing baseball over her. Who’d never make him feel like he wasn’t good enough, no matter how hard he tried.

  He didn’t know, but he needed to get his head sorted out. It was something he should’ve done a long time ago. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have slept with Aerin at Abby’s wedding.

  God, Aerin. Just thinking her name sent his heart racing, blood pumping through his veins, swelling his cock. That night…it had shocked the hell out of him and rocked his world at the same time. If only it had been with someone like Abby.

  The game ended and they lost. But they’d played well and showed promise, so Javi wasn’t distraught. The effort today was something to build on, and he was damn well going to make sure they kept pushing and striving, because he knew, deep down in his bones, that this team was capable of greatness.

  He sat at his little desk in his stifling office, sorting through game notes and putting together tomorrow’s lineup, making adjustments based on what he’d seen out on the field today when a sharp rap on the door had him looking up to find Tom Aldridge, the team’s GM, standing in his doorway. He wore a Hawaiian shirt with a Dallas Longhorns logo on it and khaki shorts, his sunglasses propped up on his bald head. His face was red, the lines of a wicked sunglasses burn starting to come through. He rubbed a hand over his beaky nose.

  “You got a sec?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door before Javi could answer. Which was fine, because it wasn’t like Javi ever turned down meetings with the GM, mostly because liked being employed.

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “You’ve heard about Santiago Alvarez.” It wasn’t a question, just a flatly stated sentence.

  Javi nodded. “Sure.”

  “He defected from Cuba to Mexico a few weeks ago now, and apparently he’s in the area, ready to meet with teams. He needs someone to sign him ASAP.”

  Javi sat up a bit straighter. God, if they could land Alvarez…The one gap they had in their lineup was a catcher. “He’s here?”

  “In Tampa, with his agent.” Which meant he was interested in signing with one of the Grapefruit League teams. During spring training, the teams were divided up into two leagues—Grapefruit and Cactus, with the Grapefruit league playing in Florida, and the Cactus league playing in Arizona. The Longhorns always held their camp in Englewood, a small town in Florida about ninety minutes south of Tampa. Other teams set up camp in the surrounding areas—Fort Meyers, Port Charlotte, Clearwater, Dunedin. If Alvarez was here, that meant he likely had his sights set on one of the big teams. The Red Sox, the Astros, the Yankees, the Nationals—they all were part of the Grapefruit League.

  But none of those teams needed a catcher as badly as the Longhorns did. Javi locked eyes with Tom, who simply nodded. “I want you to go. I think you’ll add a personal touch that really isn’t my forte. Plus, you’re both Spanish.”

  Javi’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t bother to remind Tom that neither he nor Alvarez were from Spain. Javi was Mexican-American, having been born in Texas, and Alvarez was Cuban.

  “You think he’ll be more open to talking to me because I’m Latino,” he said carefully. “Even though we’re likely not one of the teams he’s interested in.”

  Tom nodded. “Right. Do whatever it takes to sign him. We can go as high as fifteen a season.”

  Javi let out a low whistle. “Not messing around here, are we?”

  “No, we’re not. I’ll text you the address. He’s taking meetings at a hotel in Tampa.”

  Javi nodded and scooped up the keys to his rental car. Thankfully, he’d already changed out of his uniform and into a black T-shirt and jeans. With a final nod in Tom’s direction, he headed for the door.

  “Flores?”

  “Yeah?” he paused with one hand on the door frame.

  “I really, really need you to make this happen. This will be a gold star on your record when it’s time look at your contract at the end of this season. Understand?”

  Did Javi understand that his job was almost perpetually on the line? Yeah, he’d gotten the fucking memo.

  “Got it.”

  Javi pushed open the door that led to the parking lot, a warm rush of sunshine-infused air greeting him. Unlocking the Jeep, he slipped his sunglasses on, started it up and put the address into his GPS, then dialed Cara’s number, hoping to use the time to catch up with Chloe and Olive.

  The drive to Tampa was supposed to be ninety minutes, but traffic wasn’t on his side, and it was nearly two hours later when he finally pulled into the valet parking area of the Westshore Grand. He arched an eyebrow as he absently handed the valet his keys, wondering what Alvarez was playing at, taking meetings in one of the swankiest hotels in downtown Tampa. Yeah, he was good, but he hadn’t even signed with anyone yet.

  He stepped into the expansive lobby, a rush of cool air greeting him. Soft piano jazz tinkled from a hidden speaker, and everything glistened. The black and white checkerboard floor, the chrome finishes, the Art Deco style chandelier hanging above a black marble fountain in the center of the space. It all shone like money.

  Following the directions he’d been given, Javi took the elevator to the second floor, where Alvarez and his agent had taken over a small meeting room.

  “I’m here to see Santiago Alvarez. Javier Flores, from the Dallas Longhorns,” he said, handing the suited assistant his team ID.

  “Of course, Mr. Aldridge said you’d be coming. Please, have a seat and they’ll be with you shortly.”

  Javi nodded and sank down into one of the chairs, the leather creaking under his ass. He wished he’d stopped by his hotel room to change into something a bit more professional than jeans and a T-shirt, but it was too late now. Hopefully his choice of wardrobe wouldn’t matter.

  As he waited, he went over all of the talking points he’d come up with on the drive up. The Longhorns were a solid team, almost certainly destined for the post season again this year. They were young and hungry. Not only that, but he could guarantee Alvarez plenty of playing time, something other big clubs probably weren’t in a position to do. Dallas was a great city to live in. Plus, the Longhorns had a young and innovative coaching staff.

  They were all solid points, but rehearsing them still didn’t alleviate the tension pulling across his shoulders. To a lot of other teams, this was just another meeting. To Javi, it was more. Not only was it solidifying his job security, but maybe even opening the door to other oppor
tunities in the future. If he could pull it off, anyway.

  The smoked glass door swung open and the assistant GM from the Red Sox emerged. He gave Javi a sneering once over before heading to the elevator, not saying a word.

  “You can go in now,” said the assistant from where he stood several feet away, his eyes glued to the tablet in his hands. “They’re expecting you.”

  “Great, thanks.” Javi stood, wiped his palms on his jeans and pulled open the door.

  He didn’t have a name for the emotion that coursed through him when he saw Aerin sitting on the other side of the glass table, her hands folded neatly in front of her. It was a cocktail of all kind of fucked-up-ness. Shock was the base note, the anchoring factor. But on top of that was excitement, a healthy splash of lust, a sprinkle of curiosity, all topped off with a garnish of sadness and regret. It tasted bitter and sweet at the same time, and he licked his lips, drinking in the sight of her.

  The last time he’d seen her was when she’d kicked him out of her hotel room after the hottest sex of his life. Oh, look, he’d just added a dash of shame to his cocktail. He’d known that they’d cross paths again—someday, eventually—but he was still caught off guard. He felt like he’d just walked out onto a battlefield without any armor.

  She glanced up and satisfaction surged through him at the way she went incredibly still as her eyes locked on his. Heat flared in her gaze, so hot and intense he felt as though he’d been licked by flames. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms in front of his chest, more of that heat licking at him when her eyes dropped to his arms.

  The fact was, he had no freaking clue what to say to her, so he resorted to their usual mode of communication. Snarky and sarcastic. He gestured around him at the fancy meeting room. “I should’ve known. This has your fingerprints all over it.”

  “You should’ve. Putting two and two together isn’t that hard, even for you Mr. Flores.”

  He forced himself to bite back a smile. It felt different, sparring with her now that he knew where all those sparks could lead. Not that they’d be leading there again.

  His unhelpful brain chose that moment to conjure up the memory of Aerin on her knees, her lips stretched around him. Almost angrily, he pushed the memory away. This was a business meeting. But then something totally crazy possessed him, a thought that once it had appeared, he couldn’t dismiss or ignore. What if, after this meeting, they went and grabbed a drink somewhere? Yeah, she’d kicked him out, but they’d both been panicking the morning after. Now, with a little space it didn’t seem so monumentally bad.

  Oh, fuck. He was happy to see her, wasn’t he? He’d never fancied himself as having a masochist kink, but hell, maybe he did.

  She cleared her throat, licked her lips and then reached for her glass of water, taking a long sip. “Please, have a seat.”

  He nodded, but before he dropped into the chair, he extended his hand and introduced himself to Alvarez, flipping into Spanish. Alvarez’s eyebrows went up a little, and he relaxed visibly in his seat.

  Once he’d sat down, Aerin leaned forward, her hands once again clasped neatly in front of her. “You should know that we’ve had a lot of meetings today. Promising, productive meetings. I think it’s admirable that you’re here for the Longhorns, but I doubt you can compete with some of the offers we’ve heard.”

  Javi nodded slowly. That wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. “Why else would you come to Tampa if you didn’t want to talk to the Yankees and the Red Sox?” he said with a little shrug.

  Aerin sent him a cursory smile, her lips pressed together tightly. “So let’s not waste each other’s time then.”

  Javi leaned forward, bracing his arms on the table. “Are you trying to get rid of me on behalf of your client, or on behalf of yourself?” Heat flared in her eyes. His skin sizzled with it. The air around them seemed to crackle and vibrate. Javi flashed her a smug grin and then returned his attention to Alvarez, once again switching to Spanish.

  “I know you’ve had some big meetings today. The Yankees, the Red Sox. Big names. Big teams. Big wallets. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that we can offer you the same kind of money that they can. But I can offer you something they can’t: me. I know what it’s like to come from a place of struggle. I was born here, in the United States, but my parents didn’t have much money. They sacrificed for me to follow my dream, my passion. I understand sacrifice. I understand what you’re giving up and risking just by being here. I don’t know what your life’s been like, but I can imagine. And I can come a hell of a lot closer to understanding than any rich, white manager from another team ever will.”

  Aerin’s eyes were glued to Javi, her pupils blown. She cleared her throat again. “If you’d care to loop me in, Mr. Flores.”

  Javi shrugged. “I was just telling him that I can’t match whatever the other teams are offering. I can go as high as fifteen mil over three seasons, but I know the other offers you’ve had are probably significantly higher. But even though I can’t offer him more money, I can offer him someone who understands his journey and the path he’s on right now.” He shrugged, tenting his fingers together. “I didn’t grow up in Cuba. I grew up in a poor area of San Antonio. And I was never even half the player that you are, Santiago. I wish I had been. Maybe I’d have played longer.” He shook his head, smiling ruefully, and then flipped back into Spanish. Partly because he felt it was a way to connect with Alvarez, and partly because he was pretty sure it was turning Aerin on.

  “But I know what it’s like to have next to nothing and then suddenly have more than you ever could’ve imagined. I know so many things now that I wish I’d known twenty years ago. Including that it’s not always about the money, but about the team you play with. Who you have in your corner. If you come to Dallas, you’d have someone in your corner who gets it. Who really fucking gets it.”

  Alvarez took a deep breath and looked over at Aerin. She lifted her eyebrows, and then he returned his attention to Javi.

  He switched back to English for Aerin’s benefit. “Other teams can give you more money. I can’t deny that. But in Dallas, with the Longhorns, I can give you a place to belong. A place where you’re understood. A place to grow.”

  Alvarez took another breath, his face an unreadable mask.

  “You’ll have a home with the Longhorns. Dallas will welcome you. I promise you that.”

  Silence filled the room, and he could tell that what he’d said had gotten through to Alvarez. Could see the earlier steely resolve wavering and then dissipating. He leaned over and whispered something in Aerin’s ear. She shook her head quickly, scribbled something on a piece of paper and slid it to Alvarez. He read it and shook his head. A silent argument. Javi leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d come to shoot his shot, and he’d done what he could to convince Alvarez to give the Longhorns a chance.

  Aerin whispered something else in Alvarez’s ear and he shrugged and then nodded. She met Javi’s gaze. “Fine. You’re on the list of potentials. But this is far from a done deal.”

  Javi shot her a smile. “That’s all I ask.” Hopefully it would be enough to appease Aldridge. “How about we have dinner sometime soon? Me, Tom, the two of you. You could come out to a pre-season game, get to meet some of the guys, and then we can talk.”

  Before Aerin could disagree, Alvarez nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”

  She pushed out of her chair. “Great. Let me walk you out.”

  Javi was one hundred percent sure he could find his way back to the elevators on his own, but for once, he wasn’t going to argue with her. He stood, shook Alvarez’s hand, and then held the door, waiting for Aerin to go first. Once they were in the hallway, she started practically marching to the bank of elevators.

  “What are you even doing here?” she hissed. “You don’t work in the front office.”

  “Tom figured I’d have a better shot at wooing Alvarez. I think he was right.”

  She made a small impatient sou
nd. “Hmm.”

  He understood her frustration. It was her job to get her client the best deal and the fattest, juiciest contract possible. This wasn’t just his payday, but hers too. But he decided to leave that topic alone.

  “So, when did you land Alvarez? Nice get.”

  “Oh, um…” She hesitated slightly, and then stopped walking as they reached the elevators. “Shortly before the, uh, the, Jake and Abby’s wedding.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t fully understand why, but something that felt a hell of a lot like disappointment sat like a cold lump in his stomach. He glanced up and down the hallway and then leaned in closer. “You didn’t say anything.” He’d thought that…shit, he’d thought that their night together had meant…he wasn’t sure. Something. It had been more than just sex. At least, for him it had. He’d thought maybe it had been for her too, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  “No, I didn’t.” Her words were cold, even though her eyes were burning. She hit the call button for the elevator, clearly wanting him gone.

  He licked his lips and nodded, keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t trust himself not to say anything that wouldn’t get the Longhorns kicked off of Alvarez’s short list of teams. God, he’d been so stupid to think that what had gone down between them had meant anything.

  Why did he always find himself chasing the wrong women? Abby, who saw him as a friend and colleague, and who’d been involved—not just involved, in love—with someone else. And now Aerin, who was so wrong for him he’d need a calculator to add up all the reasons why. He blew out a breath, frustrated with himself. And to think, a few minutes earlier, he’d been ready to suggest they go grab a drink.

  The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. Without a word, he pressed the button for the lobby, holding her gaze as the doors sealed him away.

  Seven

  Aerin tapped her key card against the pad and then pushed open the door to her hotel room. She kicked off her shoes, made it the few steps to the king-sized bed and flopped down on it face first, her arms out at her sides.