Bottom Of The Ninth: Bad Boys Redemption: Book Three

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “Nice!”

  “I have two thousand on hand for our event tomorrow. It’d be nice if a certain ballplayer showed up to help.”

  “Oh, you’re right. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Your name is getting out there, girl. If you strike soon, you should be able to start selling more of your photos online. It’s a huge boost.”

  “I definitely won’t turn away potential sales, but that isn’t the reason behind doing this charity drive. We’re on target to reach our hundred-thousand-dollar mark. That’s a huge donation.”

  “Heck yeah, it is. We’re lucky I found the direct shipment place. Could you imagine mailing out every calendar by hand?”

  “God, no.” I rise off the couch and turn toward the kitchen. The movement created enough wind to knock a piece of paper off the end table. I can’t hold back my frustrated sigh. “My renewal letter for my apartment.”

  “Are you going to renew?

  “I don’t know. Seven weeks is all I have left to decide.” I glance around the six-hundred-square-foot area. “This place is so tiny, but I can’t afford much more.”

  “You know, I haven’t solved my roommate situation yet. The room’s yours if you want.”

  “I’ll give it some thought. Thanks for your help. I owe you big time.”

  “Anytime, babe. I better get to work.” She grabs her coat and hat. “What time is lover boy coming over?”

  “Around six.”

  “Ooh! You should fix oysters on the half shell.”

  “Get to work,” I tease.

  “I’m going. I’m going, but seriously, girl, oysters.” She snaps her fingers. “Or something made with avocados. I heard they’re a good aphrodisiac, too.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m fixing manicotti.”

  “Well, at least seduce the hell out of that man.”

  Nala leaves, and a wave of emotions stirs deep within me: excitement, anticipation, and the worst one—fear. I don’t want to want AJ this badly. We can only be temporary. I know this. It’s part of the reason I’m allowing myself to be with him. Yeah, because the man doesn’t sweep you off your feet every time he’s around. He’s still not the kind of guy I want to end up with. I still want a man who will be present in my life, our kids’ lives. I don’t want someone whose job will take him away. If I thought living with my dad was bad, AJ’s career is ten times worse. This decision would be a lot easier if only he weren’t so Goddamn nice.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MIA

  Current Day

  The tomato-basil aroma overpowers my kitchen as I position the last manicotti shell in the pan. My stomach growls in approval, joining the party my nerves decided to throw. I swear, I’m more anxious for this date than the one last night. Not because I’m worried about my cooking not being impressive, although I would like to redeem my preparation skills—I don’t always end up with stitches—but I can’t get this war between my head and heart under control. Maybe I am the type of girl who combines sex with feelings after all because tonight’s date seems more intimate. More personal.

  I drizzle the culprit making my mouth drool over the stuffed shells. Tonight’s challenge will be to keep those feelings in check. Honestly, this overthinking I can’t seem to stop will probably be for nothing. Next week, we find out if he’s traded, which means a move. His move. I’m not sure what to think about that. Nor do I know what to do. Being with him now will only lead to another broken heart, but one that I have more control over. I have to protect my heart and prevent myself from falling further. But there’s one problem. The more I think about AJ, the more my resolve starts to collapse.

  I chase the marinara with a layer of white sauce. If we only have a few weeks left, I’ll keep my heart in check and refuse to get emotionally attached. As far as sex goes… I don’t see anything wrong with riding that man at least one more time.

  A few shakes of parmesan cheese to top off the dish, and it’s ready. I toss the pan into the oven and get to work on the Olive Garden inspired salad. It doesn’t take long before AJ’s ringing the buzzer.

  After buzzing him in, I stand by the door, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles of my dress. Baby grasshoppers have taken over my nervous system because I feel jumpy. Where are these nerves coming from? Maybe because I’m overdressed for a stay-at-home dinner. I decided to take Nala’s advice and dress provocatively. My candy-apple-red mini dress is open in the back, but that’s not the best part. The crisscross hem bolsters a deep plunging neckline which is sure to draw attention. I have to admit it didn’t take too many yards of material to make this dress, but it sure makes me feel sexy as hell. Usually. Tonight, I’m more afraid AJ will think I’m trying too hard.

  The rapping on the door has me waiting a few seconds before summoning the courage to face him. The door opens to reveal a large-framed male with dark hair, slightly disheveled on top, and a strong, chiseled chin pointing directly at me. I forget all about what I’m wearing. That is until appreciation dances in his eyes as he gives me a once-over. When those “sex eyes” land back on my gaze, all I want to do is remove said clothing. What this man makes me want to do.

  “Did you change your mind and want to go out?”

  “Oh, no.” I glance down and toy with the hem of my dress that lands just shy of mid-thigh. “I just wanted to dress up for you.”

  He shakes out of his coat and hangs it on the nearby hook. Then he toes off his shoes, his gaze never straying from me.

  “That you did. And I’m glad you don’t want to go out because I’m in a greedy mood tonight. I want you all to myself.” He closes the gap between us and pulls me against his rock-hard chest. My arms snake around his waist as he continues to stare at me with hunger. “Especially now that I have a hankering for a candied apple. You look sinfully edible.”

  Before I can respond, his hands cup the underside of my cheeks, and he dips his mouth to cover mine. I’m caught in a whirlwind of AJ and closed-mouth kisses that, quite honestly, surprises me. They’re slow and sensual and so Goddamn soft I’m in a tailspin of emotion. I simultaneously want more from him while never wanting this pace to end. And those baby grasshoppers? They’ve invaded my stomach because this fluttering sensation can’t be normal.

  My fingertips weave into his fine hair that feels so incredibly soft it sends shivers down my spine. Or maybe that’s from the swipe of his tongue against my lower lip. I practically force myself not to tug too hard at his pleading groan. I grant him access, and when our tongues collide in a wild frenzy, I’m treated with another low, torturous groan. The begging in his voice makes me feel empowered. And my heart? Yeah, it’s long gone, along with my resolve to not fall further.

  He releases my mouth, and I instantly feel the void. My heart speeds to an allegro tempo, while the ache between my thighs screams for me to continue. I tamp down those raging hormones. I can’t get sidetracked.

  “Well, hello to you too.” I peer up at him, and his lips curve into that sexy grin.

  “I’d never get tired of this type of greeting, Cupcake.”

  I give him a sly smile. “Come on. The food is almost ready.”

  He follows me into the kitchen, and I grab the bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator. “I have your beer if you’d rather have that.”

  That earns me another appreciative glance, but he shakes his head. “I’ll have some wine with you.” He leans against the small counter space while I pour our glasses. “The food smells delicious.”

  He’s staring at me with a deep intensity as I hand him the glass. I start to squirm. “What?”

  “You’re so talented. I just… You amaze me.”

  Heat rises to my cheek, and to counter off it, I spin to open the oven door. A whiff of hot air causes me to back up.

  “Here, let me get that.” He grabs the hot pads and shoulders past me to the stove. My kitchen is small, so when he brushes by me and bends to pick the casserole dish up, I feel him everywhere. Gracious, this is going to be a long evenin
g.

  We dish out the salad and manicotti and go sit at the only table available. AJ’s large frame settles into the saddle bar stool. Due to the apartment’s limited space, the pub table snugs the wall and leaves me no choice but to sit next to him. Normally, Nala and I have no problems sitting side by side, but AJ’s huge. He takes up three-fourths of the space. Sitting by him, it is downright impossible to keep from touching, like right now with his leg rubbing against mine.

  His gaze scans the salad, the manicotti, and the breadsticks off to the side. “Damn, girl. This is downright impressive.”

  “Thanks. I found the recipe by accident, though. I riffled through an old cookbook over at Nala’s some Saturday evening. It’s the best sauce I’ve tried.”

  He gives me a sideways glance. “You spent a Saturday night over at your friend’s house flipping through cookbooks?”

  I raise my chin, trying to look stern, but who am I kidding. Spending a Saturday night with recipes is lame. No matter how fun it can be.

  “Good thing I did; otherwise, you wouldn’t be eating this fabulous meal. God, did you see how many cookbooks the demonstration kitchen had? Talk about chef heaven.”

  He laughs, and the vibrations cross to my leg and travel down to my toes. “This is the best manicotti I’ve ever tried. I’m kind of glad you’re a nerd.”

  “I’m not a nerd!” I smack his arm.

  “Maybe a little.” A mischievous gleam coats his eyes as he dips his breadstick in the extra sauce and takes a bite.

  I huff an exasperated sigh even though I’m nowhere near offended. I’d say more enthralled than anything. AJ seems completely at ease. There’s a lightness to him that’s been missing for a while. This is the guy who I was enamored with back in college. The guy who warmed my heart. And he seems to be doing it all over again.

  I clear my throat. “So, tomorrow is our major push for the calendar sales.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “Great, so far. We’re on track to raise six figures, and we’ll hit it if tomorrow’s push works.”

  “Seriously? You’ve raised that much?”

  “We’re on track,” I repeat. “But, yeah, it’s looking really good.”

  “Must be the hot elf you have. I heard people can’t get enough of him.” His hand lands on top of my thigh, his callused palm rubbing against the smoothness of my skin.

  I force the bite I took down as my throat suddenly becomes thick. Flicking my gaze to his, I speak, but my words come out breathier than intended. “I’m sure he is. I know I can’t get enough.”

  Those brown eyes darken to ebony, and his hand moves higher on my thigh. I try not to squirm, but I’m so turned on.

  “Fuck, Mia. I’d like nothing more than to bend you over this stool and ram into you until you couldn’t stand any longer, but I’m trying to be good.”

  Holy crap. Why does that image turn me on? I swallow hard before speaking. “Are you planning on being good the whole evening?” Please say no.

  His gaze drops to my cleavage and lingers for a moment. “I don’t think I’ll be so honorable tonight, babe.”

  “Good.” I press my lips together as he squeezes my leg.

  “But right now, it’ll have to wait. I can’t pull away from this food.”

  I laugh as the tension dials back to reasonable measures and steer the topic back to the charity event. “We lucked out because the card shop is letting us set a booth up by their entrance for free.”

  “When is this?”

  “Tomorrow. It’d be nice if a certain player stopped by to, you know, do some promoting.”

  “Yeah? I think that can be arranged.”

  “Thanks. We’ll be sure to sell out then.”

  “Especially if they want a signature. Should I sign it Sexy Elf?”

  I shake my head. “So arrogant.”

  His laugh comes out naturally. “Of course, I’ll be there. I think it’s pretty damn obvious I’ll do anything for you.”

  My breath hitches, and I pull my gaze away, biting my lip.

  He smiles and shakes his head. “You’re still so damn sweet.”

  As he dives back into the Italian yumminess, I revel in the lightness of his mood. We still need to discuss what is actually going on between us. What our expectations are if there are any. But he’s finally relaxed and joking. I hate to bog him down by a heavy conversation. No, the trade discussion, along with our temporary status, can wait. It’s just…as his leg continues to rub against mine and his hand rests upon my thigh, my body responds readily. It doesn’t care if we’re temporary or not. It’s seeking an encore. I just hope my heart can keep up.

  We finish the meal and place the dishes in the kitchen. He offers to help clean up, but I dismiss the offer, telling him there’s plenty of time for that later. Instead, I grab his Guinness American Blonde Lager from the refrigerator and hand it to him.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to buy my beer though.”

  I grab my wine glass and lick my lips. I step toward my living room but lower my voice as I brush past him. “I like to keep my guest happy.”

  A flash of arousal glazes his eyes, and I realize I’m playing with fire. One that I hope doesn’t extinguish after our next discussion.

  “I do like a good host,” he mumbles, following me to the couch.

  I snuggle next to AJ after we get situated on the couch. We have a direct line to the scrawny Christmas tree. The multicolored lights flicker, bringing a sense of peace even without ornaments.

  “Thanks again for helping with the tree. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

  “You would be looking at an empty space.”

  “Shut up.” I shove his side, and once again I’m met with a solid wall of muscle. Dang, he feels good. “Getting that Christmas tree was the best decision I made.”

  “Yeah, why’s that?” He takes a pull of his beer and wraps his free arm around my shoulders.

  “It brought us together.” Even though we’re not together-together. “I don’t think I would’ve ever listened to you had we not been forced to spend time with each other.”

  “Don’t make me thank your brother,” he says through a groan.

  “Never!”

  We sit and talk about everything but the underlying issue. We dance around the topic, whether intentionally avoiding it or not.

  Although we’re opposites in many ways, we find out we do have some things in common. We both like nature although AJ’s only camping experience consists of staying at a Dakotah Lodge in Sioux Falls when his high school team traveled for a tournament. I told him hotels don’t count even if they resemble a log cabin. He then brought up staying at my cabin in Vermont. And that led to our passion for the West Coast. No matter what we discuss, it circles back to the one area we’re both tiptoeing around.

  “You know what still puzzles me?”

  He glances down at me, aimlessly running his fingertips along my arm. “What?”

  “The night you stood me up, you were getting drunk while I waited. I never understood that.”

  “You knew I was drinking?” The question is laced with regret.

  “Yeah, I had called Sadie to see if you guys ran late. She called her boyfriend, and he saw you getting hammered. You told me you didn’t drink.”

  He sits straighter and hangs his head, running his hand through his hair. He curses to himself before pinning me with a stare.

  “First of all, I was an idiot back then and didn’t handle the situation well at all. But I didn’t want to hurt you. Remember, I truly thought you’d be better off without me. I believed if I stayed with you, I’d drag you down.” He blows out a breath, and I know talking about his feelings is hard for him.

  “AJ, you don’t have to continue. I already forgave you.”

  “No, it’s important for you to know my headspace at the time.” He grimaces. “You may not like this part. I also thought you were innocent, you know. I didn’t realize underneath this quie
t demeanor a hellcat lays in waiting.”

  “Oh, God.”

  He holds his hand up. “Hear me out. I didn’t want to taint you. I wasn’t good for you, so when I let you go, I knew I was too much of a pussy.” He apologizes when I cringe. “Sorry, wimp. I was too much of a wimp to face you. You make me weak, Mia. I knew I wouldn’t be able to break it off if I faced you. So, I copped out. I knew standing you up would piss you off enough, and by blocking your number, I wouldn’t be tempted to call.”

  “And the drinking?”

  “I felt guilty as hell. The idea of hurting you made me sick. So, I tried to drink the thought of hurting you away. Didn’t work by the way. The guilt never left, and I had one hell of a hangover.”

  I smirk. “Serves you right.”

  “Come here.” His arm wraps around me in an apologetic hug. “If I could change the past, I would. But please know I still feel awful for how I handled things.”

  “Thanks for explaining. When they told me you were drinking instead of answering my calls, I didn’t know what to think. You told me you didn’t drink, so I thought you were nothing but a liar.”

  “I’d never lie to you.” He grabs my hand and brings it up to his lips. “The timing is never right with us. Why is that?”

  “Fate’s a bitch.”

  His mouth drops. “Why, Mia. Is that a curse word that fell from your mouth?”

  I toss my head back in laughter. “I never said I didn’t curse, but every other word is too much.”

  He studies my hand that rests against his palm. He dwarfs me. The tips of my fingers barely reach the base of his. The texture is rough compared to my buttery soft ones. Another example of how we’re opposite.

  “I have to be honest here, Mia. I never once thought about settling down. Hell, you’ve seen me out. You’ve seen the type of life I lead. But none of that matters when it comes to you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

  My heart pounds in my chest from his admission. “Ever since you squatted on my court, I knew you were special. Lust, love at first sight, I don’t know. But there’s always been something there between us. I can’t deny it.”