by JB Heller
Oh, if only she knew…
When I first got this gig, I was totally starstruck. But I’m a professional, damn it, and kept that crap under wraps. Bates has no idea I’ve never missed a home game or that I wear his number and have done so since he was in the minors.
I feel like such a creeper right now.
Keeping my inner fangirl to myself is the reason I was hired and how I’ve held onto the job for this long. Now they want me to marry him… What the heck am I supposed to do with that? Because I do, in fact, find Bates extraordinarily attractive, and I’m pretty sure I’d very much like jumping him.
All the color has leeched from Tia’s face, and she’s just sitting there, staring at me.
I run a hand through my sleep-disheveled hair and sigh. “Look, you don’t have to do this. I can find another way to fix my shit.”
My annoying-as-shit sister elbows me in the ribs—hard. “No, you can’t. This is the solution. Only this. And only Tia. We can’t just find some rando diamond doll and ask her to do this. She’ll jump on your junk the second she gets a chance, and this isn’t about getting you laid.”
I roll my eyes. “I know that, but Tia clearly isn’t interested. I’m not going to force her to marry me, Len. That’d be some archaic bullshit right there.”
“Who said anything about forcing her?” Lennon fires back. “It will be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“Right,” I scoff. “And how’s this supposed to benefit Tia? Are you planning on paying her or something?” Len’s pitying glance tells me that’s exactly what she is going to do. “Fuck that. What kind of asshole has to pay a woman to marry him? Give me a week, and I’ll find someone myself. Someone who actually wants to be with me.”
Lennon arches a brow, shakes her head, then swallows down the last of the mimosa I made her before calmly placing her glass on the ground at her feet. “We’ve already been over this. That won’t work, and you know it. Marrying a slutty cleat chaser isn’t going to improve or repair your reputation.”
Tia has remained perfectly silent throughout this whole exchange between my bossy-ass sister and me. I shift to face her. She’s still pale but not quite so ghostly looking now. “Do you have anything to add?” I ask her.
She swallows, licks her lips, then shocks the shit out of me by saying, ever so softly, “I’ll do it.”
My jaw drops. “What do you mean you’ll do it? Twenty minutes ago, you said you wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
Tia crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin. “I know what I said.”
I do not understand women. Like, at all.
My gaze darts from Tia—my future wife, apparently—to my sister and back to Tia again. “Seriously?” I ask. “Just like that, you’ve changed your mind?”
Maybe that mimosa was too strong? They’re meant to be 70/30, in favor of the alcohol, right?
Tia nods. “Yep. Just like that.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Why?”
Confusion blankets her face. “Why what?”
“Why are you suddenly down with this asinine plan to marry me? I mean, I know I’m a studly sex god and all, but that didn’t stop you from saying no initially. So, why’d you change your mind?”
She snorts. “A studly sex god? Really?”
I shrug, owning it. “I know what I’m bringing to the table.”
A soft smile curves her lips as she shakes her head. “You’re a good guy, Bates. I don’t want you to get hurt. Not to mention you’re one hell of a hitter, and if you get dropped, my fantasy line-up is screwed.”
“Your fantasy line-up? Like, sexual fantasies, right?” I’m fucking with her, but this is the first I’ve heard her mention one damn thing about baseball. As far as I knew, up until this very moment, she didn’t know a damn thing about it.
Her crazy dual-toned eyes widen, bringing more attention to their color difference, and a blush creeps up her slender neck. “What? No! My fantasy baseball team, you jackass.”
I grin at her discomfort. “Oh, you got me all excited for nothing.” I pout, and she rolls her eyes.
When she started working for me, I asked her about her eyes ‘cause they freaked me out. I’d never seen anything like it before—one cerulean blue and one emerald green. I thought she was wearing contacts. But she said it’s called heterochromia, and it took me, like, a week of practicing to be able to pronounce it properly. I also Googled the shit out of it ‘cause it looks freaking awesome.
Would our babies have her awesome eyes or my boring blues?
Oh, hell no. Where the fuck did that thought come from? I eye her, worried she can tell what just ran through my head. But she seems oblivious, thank God.
“You’re staring, man,” she says, shifting in her seat.
“Shit, sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head, trying to bring my thought process back to the topic at hand. “So”—I clear my throat—“all it took was a fifteen-minute conversation with my pushy sister and you want to get hitched?”
She shrugs and averts her gaze. “Like I said, you’re a good guy—”
And that reminds me… “You think I’m a good guy? You know I’m not a relationship kinda dude. I mean, you clean my sleepover room. You know I never keep a girl around longer than a couple of days, if that. What about that says I’m a good guy?”
“You just haven’t found the right woman yet. I’m happy to keep the diamond dolls at bay while you get your career back on track, then we can part as friends.” She pauses, shifts her gaze to Lennon, and waits a beat before saying, “Right? That’s the plan, yeah? We stay married until things settle down and his contract is renewed, then get a quiet divorce?”
Lennon shrugs. “More or less.”
My brows take a nosedive. I know my sister, and there’s something she isn’t saying. “Spit it out. What does ‘more or less’ mean?”
She huffs. “It’s not a big deal, really. It’s just…if we don’t want this to look like a publicity stunt, you’re going to have to stay together for at least a year. I’d prefer longer, but a year should do it.”
I’m on my feet, pacing in front of the pool before I even register that I’ve moved. “A year?” I mutter, running my hands through my hair.
“Yes, Bates, a year,” Lennon confirms. “And you’ll have to remain faithful in that time. No getting caught with your pants around your ankles. It’s the straight and narrow for you. Any and all PDA will be exclusively with Tia. This is the only way. We need to sell this, make people believe you two are in love. And it goes without saying that nobody can know about this being a setup. Not even your family, Tia. The whole world needs to buy it.”
I come to an abrupt halt, spinning to gape at my clearly crazy sister, one thing in her little speech standing out like a giant red flashing sign. “You’re kidding, right? I can’t get laid? I’ll lose my damn mind!”
She shrugs. “That’s what your hands are for, stupid.”
“My hands!” I boom. “I haven’t had to rely on Mrs. Palmer to get the job done since I was in high school. Be serious, Lenny.”
Getting to her feet, she dusts off her jeans and gives me a serene smile. “I’ll get Arch to give you some pointers.” Then she’s walking away, stepping through the sliding doors and disappearing inside.
My mouth hangs open in a spot-on imitation of a starving goldfish as I stare after her.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Tia says. “I’ll be celibate too.”
“No, that doesn’t make me feel better,” I snap, glaring as I cross my arms over my chest.
She stands from the lounger she’s been seated on since she and Len came out here and approaches me, stopping less than a foot away. Tipping her head back, she looks up into my eyes as she places a hand over my heart. “Then maybe this will,” she murmurs then shoves me harder than I thought her skinny arm could.
I stumble, my foot catching air, sending me careening backward. “Son of a—” My mouth fills with water as I plummet t
o the bottom of the pool. I kick back to the surface to find a smug Tia standing with her hands braced on her hips. I don’t give her a chance to run. I lunge, curling my fingers around her ankle and yanking her into the water with me.
Her arms flail in the air as she falls, a screech leaving her lips, and I can’t help but laugh.
When her head breaks through the surface, I close the distance between us, backing her against the side of the pool. Her dark hair hangs in her eyes, and I sweep it to the side as I crowd her. “If you were insinuating cold water would be the antidote to going without for a year, you’re sorely mistaken,” I murmur.
We’re so close I feel every breath she takes, her full tits brushing against my chest with each inhale. I swallow as her hypnotizing eyes search mine, then she goes and licks her damn lips, and suddenly, I’m rocking a hard-on for my housekeeper.
Well, this is new…
My breath hitches as Bates moves a fraction closer, his head tilting as he nears. Oh Lord, he’s going to kiss me.
I do the only thing I can in this situation—take a deep breath, squeeze my eyes closed, and submerge myself beneath the water. But I can’t escape him; he’s too close. So I just stay there under the water until my lungs burn from lack of oxygen.
When I pop back up, gasping, Bates arches a brow.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Right…” His self-satisfied smirk tells me he knows I’m full of it, and I hate it.
Pressing my palms against his chest, I push as hard as I can. “You’re too close, back up.” I try to sound snarky, but it comes out breathy.
Nice one, Tia. Let the man know you’re kinda into him right before you have to fake marry him.
The big bastard doesn’t move a muscle as he examines every inch of my flushed face. He lifts a hand, brushing the hair plastered to my forehead to the side, just like he did before. The gentle touch makes my breath catch in my throat.
Why is he doing this?
“Bates,” I murmur, unsure of exactly what I want to say.
“Aren’t you at least curious?” he asks.
My gaze darts between his baby blues. “About what?”
“If we’re compatible. We’re going to be stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. What if we can’t stand each other? What if I snore? What if I leave my toothbrush on the sink and my toothpaste open?”
My shoulder lifts in a slight shrug. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, I already know you snore, and you’ve never, not once, left your toothbrush or paste out of place.”
The corner of his full lips tugs up in a grin. “I take oral hygiene very seriously.”
“I know,” I whisper.
Why is he still so freaking close? And why am stroking his chest now? When the hell did I start doing that?
He shifts, coming even closer, causing my hands to slide up his broad shoulder and around the back of his neck as he brings his mouth close to my ear and murmurs, “I think we should practice.”
“Pr-practice?” My pulse thrums through my veins. Our bodies pressed flush against each other, I can feel every curve and dip of his muscular chest and abdomen. And good Lord, he’s hard. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I close my eyes, the sight of him, along with the heat of his body, too much to take in. It’s like sensation overload.
His mouth brushes over the curve of my jaw, down to my chin. “This.” He groans, then his lips are on mine. I gasp at the contact.
Bates slides his tongue inside, and I’m lost. So freaking lost.
He tilts his head, adjusting his angle and deepening the kiss. My fingers grapple with the wet strands of his hair as he devours me. My desperate little moans would be embarrassing if he wasn’t just as vocal about it as I am.
“Fuck, Tia.” He groans against my parted lips then dives back in.
I whimper as he tugs my legs around is hips then rocks his pelvis into mine, giving me some much-needed friction. It feels so good. Too good. I tear my mouth from his, panting, but he doesn’t stop or even slow down.
He sucks on the edge of my jaw, his teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh a moment later. “Why haven’t we done this before?” he murmurs as he continues licking and nipping.
His words are like a cold splash of reality. “Crap,” I squeak. “Bates, stop. We need to stop.”
He lifts his head, his eyes searching mine. “Why?”
A lump forms in my throat at the confusion in his gaze. I cup his face in my palms then rest my forehead against his. “Because sex complicates things. If we’re going to make it through the next year, we need to remain friends. Just friends,” I clarify.
Bates frowns. “We can be friends with benefits. We’ve both got needs, and they can’t be met elsewhere, so why not together?”
My heart clenches in my chest, and I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I don’t want you to sleep with me just because I’m your only option. That’s not me.”
He closes his eyes, gives my thighs a little squeeze, then lowers my legs from around his waist. “You’re right.” He swallows then releases me completely, taking a step back. “At least we know we can sell it now—us being a couple,” he says with a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Yeah,” I murmur then turn and pull myself up and out of the pool.
As if in a trance, I stare out the window of the train as buildings fly past in a blur of reds and browns. I pay them no attention; I’ve seen them all a hundred times. My brain is a mess of thoughts I’m unable to process.
My cell chimes in my pocket, so I pull it out. Lennon’s name stares back at me. My temples throb lightly with the beginnings of a headache. I don’t want to talk to her right now. I have enough on my mind—like the memory of Bates’s hard body and soft lips pressed to mine.
How did that even happen?
Releasing a deep sigh, I shove my cell back inside my pocket. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the cool window of the train.
Twenty minutes later, I arrive at my stop and make the short walk to the apartment I share with my mother and sister. When I get home, I’m still trying to wrap my head around today’s turn of events.
I’m going to marry Bates Handler. Me. His housekeeper. Is about to become his wife.
I flop down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling, my mind a mess of thoughts I can’t even begin to process.
“Tiana, is that you, mija?” my mother calls from the kitchen.
“Sí, Amá,” I call back as I kick off my shoes then pop my feet up on the coffee table.
Vinnie’s little nails tap along the floorboards as he exits my room and scuttles along the hall, appearing moments later on the arm of the couch to greet me.
“Hey, Mi Nene,” I coo. “How’s my big boy?” I extend my hand to him, and he climbs onto it then walks up my arm to perch on my shoulder and nuzzle into my neck.
I got Vinnie two years ago, and he’s been my sidekick ever since. His previous owner didn’t realize how much time and attention an eclectus parrot needs, so she chose to rehome him when he was less than a year old.
He snuggles further into me then shuffles around and stretches his neck until he’s eyeballing me. “Mwah! Kisses,” he caws, giving me a peck on the lips.
“I love you too, big boy.” I kiss him back.
The front door opens then slams closed before my sister, Danika, strides into the living room. “Are you professing your love to that green pollito again? You need a boyfriend, Titi.” She chuckles.
I roll my eyes; Danika and Vinnie don’t exactly get along. Well, he likes her enough, but ever since he tried to get freaky with her hand, she’s refused to go near him. It’s not his fault he was feeling hormonal and she happened to be there.
Her boyfriend comment has me thinking this is probably as good a time as any to ease my family in on the whole I’m-going-to-marry-a-baseball-star thing.
I clear my throat and sit up. “Hey, hold up a sec,” I tell
Dani as she goes to stride past me.
She pauses, glancing back at me. “What’s up, manita?”
“So, I, umm… I’m kind of seeing someone.”
Her eyes widen, and she plops down on the couch beside me. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
I shrug. “It’s new.”
“Well, who is he?” She inches closer, her brow raised. “Or she?”
“He,” I state, “is Bates.” I brace myself, knowing she is going to lose her crap at this. I’m not the only baseball fan in this family.
Her hand flies out, shoving my shoulder. Vinnie squawks at her, but she ignores his outrage. Her brown eyes stay locked on mine as she gapes at me. “Shut. Up! I cannot believe this.”
I shrug again and mumble, “Surprise?”
“Are you freaking kidding me? You’re dating Bates-freaking-Handler! How could you keep this from me?” Dani jumps to her feet and starts pacing the floor on the other side of the coffee table.
“Like I said, it’s new—”
“Amá,” Dani calls. “Amá, did you know about this?”
Our mother comes in, wiping her hands on her yellow apron. “Know about what?” she asks, her gaze skimming between me and Dani.
“That Titi is dating Bates,” Dani exclaims.
My sister is practically vibrating with excitement. Meanwhile, I’m seriously contemplating making an escape. I’m so not ready for this conversation. My knee bounces as I paste on what I hope is a believable smile.
Lord, why did I even say anything?
My mother slowly turns to face me, surprise painted all over her face. “Is this true, mija?”
I swallow and nod. “Yep.”
Danika is tapping away on her cell. “I’m calling Dax,” she announces a second before my brother’s voice fills the room.
“What’s up, Chiquita?”
“You’re on speaker. Titi’s been keeping secrets,” she tells him.
I drop my head into my hands, squeeze my eyes closed, then take a deep, calming breath. May as well get it over with all at once, I suppose.
