She didn’t want him to know how his words affected her. So she said in the most nonchalant voice possible, “Okay, maybe.”
One of his brows lifted, and his lips quirked. “Maybe?”
She was saved from answering because headlights flickered behind them. Axel pressed on the gas and turned left. In another moment, they were on the highway again, this time heading back toward Belltown.
They didn’t speak, and Brighton wished she knew what he was thinking. What he thought of her, more specifically.
He took the exit that led into the town, and Brighton asked, “Do you miss this place?”
Axel didn’t answer for a moment. “Sometimes. I mean, I miss the games, the guys I was close with, but it was a stressful four years.”
“Because of school?”
“That was the least of it,” he said. “I worried about my mom trying to raise my sister on her own. I was on scholarship, but money was really tight. She was working two jobs, and my sister struggled in school. There was only so much I could do long distance. I thought things were hard when my sister was a preteen,” he said. “But that was nothing compared to now.”
The stress in his voice was plain. “I’m sorry, Axel. Teen girls are never easy.”
He pulled up to an open square that had a giant statue in the middle of it. He turned to look at her. “Except for you, it seems. Although being the adult in your family must have been pretty tough.”
“It is what it is,” she said. “I mean, every family has issues, it seems.” The intensity of Axel’s gaze was making her feel jittery inside. “What’s that statue?”
“Come see,” he said.
This surprised her, but she climbed out of the car and walked with Axel to the towering figure.
“It’s a... lumberjack?”
“Yep,” Axel said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “School mascot, you know.”
“Cool.” Brighton walked around the statue. The man was quite brawny, looking all tough and masculine. Technically, he could be any one of the Six Pack. Axel remained where he was, and Brighton stole a couple of glances at him in the moonlight. Maybe at some point she should give his blazer back, but she’d become quite used to it. She liked that it was sort of big on her and that it smelled like him.
“If you make a wish,” Axel said, “and kiss the heel of his boot, your wish will come true.”
“Really?” Brighton said. “Does it work?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t tried it.”
Brighton continued around the statue until she was near Axel again. “You lived here for four years and you never tried it?”
He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable in the darkness. “Nope.”
Brighton turned from him and walked the couple of steps to the statue’s rather large boot. She closed her eyes, made a quick wish, then kissed the cold boot.
CHAPTER 11
“What did you wish for?” Axel asked.
Brighton straightened from the statue, where she’d kissed the Lumberjack’s boot, and looked over at him.
How did she do that? he wondered. In any lighting, in any place, she seemed to get more beautiful. The moonlight was like a waterfall over her hair, and her eyes seemed as black as the night.
“If I tell you,” she said, “it won’t come true.”
He liked the way she teased. It told him she liked him, and that was a good thing, because he definitely liked her. Which was why the sooner he got her away from that lumberball game, the better. Why he’d thought it was a good idea to go, he didn’t know. Yeah, it had been fun, but he liked having Brighton to himself much better.
“The Lumberjack is different, though, from most wishing legends,” Axel said. “If you don’t tell, then your wish won’t come true.”
Brighton laughed.
Axel smiled. He found he smiled a lot around this woman.
“Okay,” she said in a slow voice, walking toward him, then stopping a couple of feet away. “I wished that you’d find a happy place with your sister. You know, come to a meeting of the minds, and that you wouldn’t feel as stressed.”
He gazed at her for a moment. “You used up your wish on me?”
“I only get one wish?” Her brow wrinkled.
“One wish per year,” he said, making it up as he went.
“Oh?” Her lips curved. “I guess I’ll have to come back next year then. Maybe play some lumberball and see if Skeeter will take me for a ride in his Mustang.”
“No,” Axel said, stepping closer.
“No, what?” She raised her chin, her gaze challenging.
“You’re not going anywhere with Skeeter.”
Brighton lifted her brows. “You’re not the boss of me.”
She was close enough to touch, so Axel ran his thumb along her jaw. He could have sworn she shivered, yet she didn’t move away. Her skin was soft and warm, just as he thought it would be. He breathed in her scent of sweet oranges, and he wondered how this woman had seemed to bewitch him. What was it about Brighton? The way she wore his jacket like she owned it? Or the violet of her eyes? The warmth of her laugh? Or maybe it was the way she looked at him—past his profession, past the dazzle and buzz of the professional baseball world—right into his soul.
“Thanks for your wish, Brighton West,” he said in a low voice.
“You’re very welcome, Axel Diaz.”
The way she said his name was like a caress.
She hadn’t moved but kept her gaze on him as he ran his fingers over her cheek, then beneath her ear and into her hair. Her waves were soft, cool with the night air, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her mouth.
Would it be so terrible to kiss her? Yeah, it was a first date, but she wasn’t shying away from his touch.
In fact, she placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. He was sure she could feel his heart racing, completely giving him away.
“I think you should make a wish,” she said in a soft voice, her breath teasing his skin.
He lowered his head, moving closer. “Maybe I will.” He slipped his other hand around her waist, beneath the blazer. She seemed to melt against him, and she slid her hand up his chest and over his shoulder.
Axel couldn’t wait another second. He brushed his mouth against hers. A brief, simple kiss. Her lips were cool from the night air, but the barely-there kiss sent fire through his veins. He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Is this okay?” he whispered.
Her smile was coy. “Yes,” she whispered back, then wrapped both arms around his neck.
So Axel kissed her again, and this time it wasn’t brief. She tasted both sweet and spicy, and her lips soon became warm. Goose bumps skated across his skin as she moved her fingers into his hair.
Axel quickly realized that kissing Brighton was no ordinary experience. He’d kissed plenty of women, and well, now he realized how lacking those experiences had been. Brighton’s touch was like an ambrosia he couldn’t get enough of.
She fit against him perfectly, and all his senses buzzed as she curled her fingers and gripped his shirt, then deepened the kiss.
He obliged, keeping one hand tangled in her hair as he moved his other hand up her back. She nestled closer, only bringing more heat. The cool air did nothing to keep his mind cool. He needed some space, some distance, to keep his gentleman status.
He broke off the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, catching his breath.
“Do you know you smell like oranges?” he said.
“What?” She laughed. “It’s probably my shampoo.”
“Hmm.” Axel twisted a lock of her hair around his fingers, then brought it to his nose to inhale. “It reminds me of where I grew up. Next to some orange groves. It’s nice.”
Brighton traced the edge of his collar, her fingers brushing against his neck. “You smell good too.”
He kissed her again, lightly this time.
When he drew away, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “I have to get up
in a few hours. Can I get a ride back to the hotel?”
“Of course.” He didn’t let her go though.
She raised her brows.
“Oh, you mean now?”
Brighton laughed, then wrapped her arms about him and hugged him. “I like you, Axel Diaz.”
He pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her neck. “Is that a yes to a motorcycle ride?”
“Um, that’s still a maybe.”
He groaned.
“I’m not saying no,” she added, “but I’m not saying yes.”
“The very definition of maybe.”
“Exactly.” Brighton released him and grasped his hand, then led him toward the Mustang.
Axel walked with her, wishing it weren’t so late and that they had more time together. After the wedding tomorrow, he’d be flying to Colorado, right back into the baseball cycle. He wouldn’t return to Seattle until the following week.
On the drive to the hotel, he reached for her hand. She slid her fingers into his, and he didn’t know if he’d ever had a more perfect night.
“Are you going to tell me why you were crying at the wedding?” he said, asking the question he’d wanted to for a while.
“It’s complicated,” she said.
“I can probably follow.”
Brighton glanced at him, and he squeezed her hand.
She released a sigh. “I’ve kind of avoided weddings since, well, since my fiancé dumped me the morning of our wedding day. My last good memory of our relationship was at our rehearsal dinner, when we danced. At least, I thought it was a good memory. Until I found out that everything between us had been a sham.”
Although her voice was calm and steady, she was squeezing his hand rather tight.
“Who was this guy?” he asked.
“He worked at my former airline,” she said. “He was a pilot, and I guess I got caught up in his charm. I found out later he had a bit of a track record, and that’s why he’d switched airlines several times in his career. But this time he wasn’t going to leave things to chance, and he filed a sexual harassment claim against me. I was threatened with a layoff, so I quit.”
Axel sputtered. “What? You were about to get married. How would anyone believe a claim like that?”
She sighed as if she’d had the same question. “It never went to HR mediation because he agreed to drop the claim if I left the company.”
“Which you did.”
“Yes.”
They’d arrived at the hotel, and Axel pulled to a stop past the main entrance. “So you saw all the dancing tonight, all the happy people, and it brought back crappy memories.”
“I needed a breather, I guess.” Brighton met his gaze, her smile sad. “You were great, Axel, and I’m glad you danced with me. It was nice to make a better memory.”
“My pleasure.” Axel pulled her hand toward him and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand.
“You are a flirt,” Brighton said.
Axel was glad that the sadness had left her voice. “Just around you, it seems.”
She smiled and pulled away her hand.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “It’s late, I know.”
He climbed out of the car and walked around to open her door. Then he extended his hand and helped her up.
She released his hand too quickly. “This is yours,” she said, shrugging out of the blazer.
He took the jacket, but didn’t move to let her pass. “Can I see your phone, Brighton West?”
She handed over her phone, and he pulled up the contacts, then added his number.
“Call me if you change your mind about the motorcycle,” he said, handing the phone back to her.
She met his gaze, and he wished that he didn’t see the hint of insecurity in her eyes. As if she were still finding her way back from her ex-fiancé’s cruel treatment.
“You’re unexpected, Axel, in a good way,” she said in a quiet voice. Then she kissed his cheek. “Whatever happens, thank you for tonight. I’ll always remember.”
He watched her walk away, toward the hotel entrance. Had she just blown him off? He’d purposely put the ball in her field, so to speak, giving her his number and not getting hers, since he wanted to know how interested she was. Because he was very interested, despite knowing that he had no time for a relationship outside of his own life’s problems.
Yet kissing Brighton hadn’t felt like a mistake. And he hoped she didn’t think it was.
If Axel had gotten her number, he would have been calling her tonight, so it was probably a good thing he hadn’t. He didn’t know how long he stood by the Mustang, watching the entrance of the hotel. It wasn’t like he expected her to come out again. Finally, he moved around the car and climbed in. Driving back to Skeeter’s childhood home, Axel wondered what was so compelling about Brighton over other women. Maybe he couldn’t pinpoint it, but he was drawn to her. Had been from the moment he’d first looked into her violet eyes.
When he rumbled into Skeeter’s driveway, the front door of the house opened, and a tall, lanky form stepped out. Skeeter walked toward the car, and Axel shut off the engine and climbed out.
“How was she?” Skeeter asked.
“Perfect,” Axel said, running a hand over the smooth paint. “You do beautiful work. Your dad would have been proud.”
Skeeter smiled and rested his elbows on the roof of the car. “I was asking about the woman you brought. Brighton.”
“Ah.” Axel slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against the Mustang. “She’s perfect too.”
Skeeter chuckled. “Oh yeah?”
“But don’t quote me on that,” Axel said quickly. “If I hear one word from the Six Pack, I’ll know it came from you.”
Skeeter mimicked zipping his lips. “Your secret is safe with me, but you gotta know, Axe, whether I say anything or not, everyone saw you tonight.”
“Uh, yeah, what’s your point?”
“It’s pretty obvious to all of us that she’s hooked you good,” Skeet said.
Axel rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “She lives in Seattle, did you know that? I mean, what are the chances?”
Skeeter only grinned. “Fate?”
Axel scoffed. “I don’t know about that; besides, I think she’s going to blow me off.”
It was Skeeter’s turn to scoff. “The day a woman dumps Axel Diaz is the day the world returns to the Dark Ages.”
“Whatever, man,” Axel said, but he laughed. Then he sobered. “She almost got married last fall, and I think she’s pretty jaded about that still.”
Skeeter nodded. “Understandable.” He paused. “But did you kiss her?”
“Of course.” Axel held back a smile. “I don’t even know why, because the last thing I need is a girlfriend. My life is a hot mess.”
“I think you know why, Axe,” Skeeter said. “I mean, you can’t be a hero to everyone all the time. You need someone for you too.”
“Did you just go philosophical on me, dude?”
Skeeter laughed. “Get used to it. I aced that class.”
“Not surprised,” Axel said. “I always knew you had it in you to get those college classes finished—just had to put your mind to it. Now, which couch do I get tonight? I’m beat.”
“Rachel’s staying over too, so you should probably take the downstairs couch.” Skeeter pulled out his phone, then said in an annoyed tone, “She should have been here a half hour ago.”
“Something wrong?”
Skeeter put his phone back in his pocket. “She said she’d get a ride home with Grizz from Sinclairs. I thought they were leaving right after me.”
“What? Your sister has a curfew or something?”
Skeeter shrugged. “Nah. Go ahead inside, I’m going to pull Ellie in, then wipe her down a bit while I wait for Rachel.”
Axel raised his brows but decided not to razz Skeeter anymore. He headed into the familiar house that he’d spent plenty of time in when he was in college. He knew he wouldn�
��t sleep well on a couch, but he didn’t think that he’d be sleeping much tonight anyway. Thoughts of Brighton were already plaguing his mind.
CHAPTER 12
Brighton had become an expert on Axel Diaz in the past week. No, she still hadn’t called him. He hadn’t been in Seattle anyway. That would change tomorrow, when the Sharks played the Portland Royals at home.
She looked at her phone when it buzzed, and she saw the texting strand she was currently embroiled in with Gabe.
Are you seriously not going to the game? Gabe texted. It’s Axel Freaking Diaz in the house. And he KISSED you, sweetheart.
Brighton laughed, although she felt a little ill too. She’d spilled everything about her date to Gabe the day after. He’d been shocked and stunned, then kept hugging her. And on their return flights to Seattle, he kept whispering “tiger” every time they passed each other.
Stop, she texted. You don’t have to keep reminding me.
KISS. KISS. KISS.
I’m going to block you, she texted.
Her phone rang. Gabe, of course. She sighed and answered. “Mocking me over texting isn’t enough?”
“We need a heart-to-heart, Brighton.”
She groaned. “This morning I had myself believing I could do it, you know. Show up at the game tomorrow night. Maybe say hi while he’s autographing balls for little kids. But now... I just can’t.”
“That means I have twenty-four hours to change your mind,” Gabe said.
“Save your energy. I’m sure I’m the last thing Axel’s thinking of,” she continued. “They lost all their games this week, and rumor is that they’re bringing up a minor-league pitcher.” Yeah, she’d read every bit of news she could find on the team. Because, well, Axel Diaz had kissed her. And truthfully, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had even ventured into the murky dregs of Twitter, which had been quite informative.
Both she and Gabe were off shift for two days at the same time; otherwise, Brighton would have a perfect excuse to miss tomorrow night’s Sharks game.
“Okay, let’s talk in what-ifs,” Gabe said. “If you change your mind at the last minute, we need to be prepared. What are you wearing?”
Brighton smiled. “You don’t give up, do you?”
Charming the Shortstop Page 8
