Chapter Six

Addie was doing her best to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept wandering to the gala. To dancing with Sawyer. To the blush that crept up onto his cheeks when he’d raised over four thousand dollars, just for time with him. It was a different flush than when his eyes had filled with frustration at various points over the evening. When she’d circled his table, trying to be subtle about it, he was laughing and joking with the guests, giving ample attention to the woman who appeared to be keeping her hands to herself.

She’d reminded herself that everything she did was worth it and that everything had worked out fine. But when she’d dropped him off late that night, his barely audible “See ya” had left her feeling…hollow.

For as long as she could remember, Addie had focused on this singular goal: raising money and awareness for a disease that changed lives. She tucked most of her paycheck away each month and had since her very first job. When she was twelve, she’d offered everything she’d saved to one of her mom’s many doctors. They’d been talking about experimental treatments and drugs and the cost associated. With such a limited world view and the heart of a young girl who just wanted her mom to feel okay, she’d offered to pay the doctor the whole of four hundred thirty-two dollars.

Her mom had cried and her dad had hugged her, the doctor smiling at all of them. Then they’d told her it wasn’t her worry. It was a grown-up problem and she could play a game on her mom’s phone while they talked.

Addie had spent every day since trying to come up with ways to show her parents she could handle the truth and be part of the solution. Tears burned her eyes now as she thought of the bake sales, lemonade stands, and cake walks she’d held. Her parents refused to take a penny and instead encouraged her to donate the money to the MS Society to help others.

Neither of her parents would be proud of the way she’d used Sawyer, and the realization that she’d done so made her stomach feel like it was full of sour milk. This wasn’t how she wanted to make a difference. She’d convinced herself the end game was worth the risk when she’d picked him up, but she was wrong. Now if she could just figure out a way to apologize to him. Or, as she’d been trying to do all morning, make it up to him. She’d contacted the Slammers publicist but he hadn’t returned her call yet. She didn’t know who to contact at the television studio. What she needed was to find someone to take his place so she could claim a schedule conflict and then have a backup ready for them.

“Hey,” Isla, her best friend and boss, said from the doorway. She wandered in and took a seat on one of the chairs in front of Addie’s desk. “What’s got you looking so far away?”

Straightening in her leather chair, she moved too quick and sent a pencil flying.

Isla laughed, retrieving the lead missile. “And a tad jumpy.”

Looking every bit the successful, baseball-team-owning, beautiful woman she was, Isla put the pencil in one of the holders on the desk but didn’t take her seat again.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about the other night.” Right. That was technically true and sounded so much better than “I was daydreaming about one of your players and the way he moves around a dance floor like he’s a professional and now hates me because I’m manipulative”.

“How did it go?” She leaned back in the seat. Her long auburn hair was tucked partially up and strands trailed over the shoulders of her soft black blouse. She was stunning. More impressive, however, was how kind and hardworking she was. Taking over the team had not been an easy path for her friend, but she’d dug in her heels and stood her ground. There’d been a lot of people against having Isla at the helm, but in the end, Isla had proven she was the best chance of success for the Slammers because she had more than knowledge. She had heart.

And she never would have done what you did to achieve her end goal.

I’ll make it up to him.

Addie pushed back from her desk and looked at her friend. “It was excellent. Lots of money raised and I think I definitely swayed a few of the old guard to my side.”

“I can’t believe there’s so much politics in running and being part of a charity,” Isla said. “I wonder if there’s something we could do directly through the team and our organization.”

Two things Addison had learned at a young age: there was always something that could be done and nothing was too small. She stood up and went to the small bar-sized fridge, grabbed them both a water, and passed one to Isla.

“I think the answer to that is yes. We’d just need to figure it out,” Addie said, her gears already turning.

Isla laughed, leaning forward to squeeze Addie’s arm across the desk. “You have a lot on your plate right now. Why don’t we table it and come back to it when you can breathe? Speaking of which, are you going back to Colorado this weekend to visit your parents?”

She loved Nashville. It was a city she’d dreamed about visiting, but she couldn’t deny missing Colorado or her parents. “No. Of course not. Not with playoffs starting. Plus, my dad is surprising Mom with a weekend away. She’s been on a new medication for a while now and feels really good. I am heading out of here shortly, though. I’ve got a meeting set up with the youth center to talk about our athletes working more directly with kids in crisis. It’ll be one of the options for the players who want to give back to the community. A lot of them don’t see that as part of wellness and balance, but I hope to change that.”

It was only because Addie was looking directly at her friend that she saw the slight tightening of the other woman’s lips. Shoulders a little stiffer, Isla held her gaze.

“What?” Addie’s nerves rattled. The wellness project mattered to her—she’d been trying to implement it for the past several months when she noticed the way some players ignored the signs their bodies gave them that they were pushing too hard or fast. Since taking her position, she’d had an inside look at the way the athletes and the management tunneled their focus on all things baseball. It was necessary to an extent, but it wasn’t healthy. Addie truly believed in the connection between balance and happiness. She was positive that with a well-balanced life, in all areas, players would be more successful.

“Liam was chatting with a couple of the players and got some feedback I think we need to take into consideration,” Isla said. The caution in her tone only heightened Addie’s concern.

“Okay. That’s fine. Any new program or idea has kinks. What kind of feedback?”

Isla stood and sighed. She paced away from the desk and then turned to face Addie again. “Some of the players are worried that we’re just using this as an attempt to spy on them.” She held up a hand when Addie started to protest. “Spy might be the wrong word. But instead of realizing that we’re trying to find ways to make their lives easier, to help them improve their own awareness of self-care and its impact on their game, some of the guys think we’re just trying to expose things they don’t want to share.”

Addie scrunched her face up, trying to understand what Isla was saying. “They think we’re tricking them? By offering massages, dieticians, assistants, or whatever else they need to make their personal lives smoother so that it transfers to the professional arena? That’s ridiculous.”

Isla shrugged. “That’s guys. Liam thinks it’s the interview process. You go in—a lot of them don’t know you—and they wonder why you’re asking all of these questions about their health, their lifestyle, their needs and wants.”

A weight settled on Addie’s lungs. She pressed her hand to her chest. Why was it so hard to do a little good? That’s all she wanted. With the MS Foundation, her job, with the players. Why were people fighting her every step of the way?

“What do you think we should do?” Please don’t say pull back. Please.

Isla smiled, her eyes sparkling, and crossed her arms. “It thrilled me when you followed me here from Colorado. Mostly because I needed a friend. But also because you are one of the smartest, most giving, compassionate, and intuitive people I’ve ever met. You are a huge part of my own success and I not only believe in your ideas, but I believe in you. So, you tell me, Addie, what do you want to do?”

Resisting the urge to throw her arms around her friend—because in this environment, Isla was her boss—Addie beamed. “Can I get back to you? I need to think about that and obviously, now isn’t the time. They need to focus on playing.”

Isla beamed, her smile transforming her face. “We made the playoffs, Addie.”

Addie laughed. “Yes we did. Thanks to you and your determination not to have it any other way.”

Isla feigned nonchalance. “The team might have had a little to do with it.”

Addie laughed again. “Maybe a little. But they followed where you led.”

“We’re doing good things here, aren’t we?”

“We absolutely are.” Addie checked her watch. “Speaking of, I have someone coming in about ten minutes to chat about an intern position.”

“Sounds good. Let me know. I’ve got a couple of meetings and I’ll see you later tonight,” she said and because Isla didn’t care about protocol, she gave Addie a tight hug.

“Thanks,” Addie whispered.

“Always.” The businesswoman in Isla reappeared, replacing the soft look in her eyes with one of certainty. “I’m going to draft a follow up email to the one you sent when you started the wellness initiative. Now that you’ve reached out to several players and implemented changes in their lives in small ways, we have some evidence as to how your position is tied to meeting their needs.”

Addie tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s an excellent idea. Having Liam, Corey, and Tommy agree to be test run subjects helped. But now I’ll need to touch base with all of the players and the initial intakes might be time consuming. Once I get a read on everyone, it’ll be more about maintaining. We can share some of the results from implementing small changes for some of the front of house staff as well. It’s a great way to show the connection between all of us and the universal desire for everyone to find balance.” Ironically, she could use a little balancing of her own priorities.

“There you go,” Isla said, laughter dancing in her eyes. She knew what Addie was like with a project.

When Isla left, Addie made a few notes, more than a little curious about which of the players complained. It wasn’t the ones she listed because they’d volunteered, agreeing that it got harder, especially with the team doing well, to balance a career with growing families and changing lives. She’d only interviewed and met with a handful of them. Liam was close to several of his former teammates, even now that he worked for the organization instead of playing.

Pulling up the team roster, she opened her files to cross check which players she’d met with and which ones she still needed to see. Scrolling through, she landed on Sawyer’s picture and stats. Just like that, her mind wandered again, and it was almost like she could smell his cologne. When she’d gone home the other night, it had lingered in her hair and on her skin, making her wonder what it’d be like to have him in her bed. Then, she’d reminded herself that he didn’t even want to talk to her, never mind anything else. She’d set aside someone’s feelings to achieve the goal and that was not who she’d ever wanted to be.

She’d known from the second she looked at him that there was something special, something different, about Sawyer. More than just how he looked. He hadn’t been overly friendly and they’d gone back and forth all evening, leaving her decidedly unbalanced, but what resonated was that despite his reservations, he’d gone through with it all.

He’d more than stepped up without any reason at all.

Warmth washed over her before she could stop it. He’d smelled really, really good. Being wrapped in his arms like he was afraid to let her go helped her memorize the feel of him.

“Busy?”

Addie’s head snapped up, and she locked eyes on the object of her affection…no, lust…no, that’s no better… Heat swamped her cheeks and she forced herself to stay still so she didn’t toss any more pencils or other office supplies to the ground.

“Sawyer,” she said. Was her voice breathy?

“Addison,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. One side of his mouth quirked up and he stared across the room.

The use of her full name tweaked her heartstrings. He has every right to be mad. They stared at each other, her still behind her desk, him filling the doorway. He wore dark jeans and a T-shirt that fit his upper body perfectly. When he folded his sculpted arms over his wide chest, she saw the tattoo curling around his biceps. Her eyes traveled down and again she marveled at how such a large man could move with such ease and grace as he held her close on the dance floor. By the time her gaze made it back to his, her skin was heated. But when she saw the amused look in his brown eyes, her cheeks flamed.

“See something you like?” He came all the way into the room. It wasn’t a large office but with him in it, there didn’t seem to be enough air for the both of them.

Arrogant. Now he’d think she was just like any other woman who wanted him for his looks or what he could offer. “Uh, sorry about that. My mind wandered. What are you doing here?”

He arched a brow but she looked away, busying herself by piling up her papers and then standing. She came around the desk but still didn’t meet his stare. She could feel it, though. Everywhere.

“I have to work out and practice.” He gave a frustrated sigh. “Why won’t you look at me?”

Her chin snapped up. Oh. Looking at him from this vantage point only highlighted his strong jaw, slightly crooked nose, and the lines around his eyes. He looked tired, and she immediately wanted to ask why. She didn’t have any right to. Unless…

“I feel horrible. I’m so sorry about so many things. What I did was wrong. All of it.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze softening—or maybe that was just her hopeful imagination. He said nothing, and nerves ran around in opposite directions inside her, banging into each other. She willed herself to take a deep breath.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’d like to ask for it. You probably have people taking advantage of you all the time, and I never intended to be one of them.”

She bit her lip to keep from babbling on and on. She hated how much she wanted to step into him, to hug him close. But even if she hadn’t been such an idiot the other night, she had her own lines in the sand, including a strict no dating anyone from work policy. Her career, and the things she tried to achieve in connection with it, were too important to let a relationship interfere. The one time she’d crossed that line, the man had stomped on her heart and stolen her marketing ideas, earning himself a corner office and a promotion.

“I was mad,” Sawyer said.

Air whooshed out of her lungs at the break in the silence. “You have every right to be. I truly am sorry.”

He nodded. “I’m not as mad anymore.”

Addie’s heartbeat stuttered. “You’re not?”

“Not really. The night went pretty well. My date kept her hands to herself. You raised money. And now I don’t have to do the game show. Correct?”

She nodded. She’d figure something out. “I’m still sorry,” she whispered.

He stepped closer, reached out like he was going to touch her, and then tucked his hand back in his pocket. “Whatever. It’s done. We both got something out of it…and you still owe me.”

There was a smile in his voice and the idea of owing him warmed her because it meant she’d get to see him again. Which was not the point of any of this. While that might be true, she couldn’t help the way his husky voice slid over her skin like fragrant bubbles in the tub.

His gaze softened and she realized she’d been staring. Sawyer cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “The thing is, I started thinking about why you did all of those things. And I’m still stuck on the fact that none of it was for yourself.”

Needing the breathing room, she moved closer to her desk, sweeping her finger along the edge. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No. It doesn’t. But it does make you unique.”

Her head snapped up. When their gazes locked, her stomach tumbled in a way that was not wise. “I got too wrapped up in what I wanted.”

His eyes moved to her lips and back up as he moved closer. “Maybe. And maybe I got too wrapped up in being mad to realize that a few hours of my time for a good cause isn’t such a bad thing.”

Hope surged through her. Something about this man made her want to bring out his smile. Despite everything, the little bit of time she’d spent with him had been more enjoyable—and electrically charged—than anything else she’d done for a long time.

“There were moments you seemed to be having fun,” she said.

He chuckled. “Don’t push it. I just wanted to stop by and clear the air. And make sure you lived up to your end of the deal.”

She nodded, not wanting him to go and knowing they both should. She thought back to what he’d said when he arrived. “I’m glad you did. The energy is high with the playoffs. It’s pretty cool to be part of it. How’s your knee?”

He ran a hand through his hair and her eyes followed the movement. The tattoo—a baseball bat resting in a catcher’s glove—wound around his arm. When she met his gaze, she saw his had shuttered. “All better. Why?”

She felt her brows scrunch at the change in tone. “Just wondered. You were out a few games. You must be excited about the playoffs.”

“Of course I am.”

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word, not sure how she’d changed things between them. Again. Addie didn’t know him well, but it felt like there was more beneath the surface. He was all cool and calm, but something stirred inside of him and it made her feel restless.

“I’m heading out to meet with a few players myself. After I interview our friend Dustin from the other night.”

It was only when Sawyer’s eyes brightened that she realized they’d been clouded a second earlier. With worry? Fatigue? She didn’t want to pepper him with questions that he’d mistake as part of her job. Especially since a big part of her didn’t want him to look at her like someone he worked with. She sucked in a breath at the thought.

He didn’t seem to notice. “Oh yeah? I’m glad he followed through. That’s great. What will you have him do?”

Addie leaned against the desk and Sawyer copied her movement. Their thighs brushed. Even through his jeans and her skirt, she felt the heat travel over her skin like a caress.

She cleared her throat. “There are several options, depending on what his skills are. I could use someone helping me with player intakes. I think I mentioned that I’m working on a wellness initiative and having someone do some preliminary checking would save me time. But Isla, sorry, Ms. Bennett, could also use an assistant in her office. If he wants to learn more about baseball, we can find something for him in that capacity, but if he wants more of an office position, we’ll have no trouble finding him something.”

Sawyer turned his head toward her and she did the same.

“You’re an interesting woman, Addie.”

“You said that the other night.” Maybe it wasn’t a compliment.

“It’s still true. You’re also kind. You go about it weirdly, but you have good intentions.”

She laughed even as the little wrinkle of confusion between his eyebrows tugged at her heart. Being around him was like being on a seesaw. She wanted to press her fingers there, smooth out the skin. Way to keep your brain on track. She saw baseball players all the time. None of them affected her like this. Just Sawyer.

“Kindness is the easiest thing to give and the most powerful to receive.”

Their eyes held until Addie’s pulse scrambled uncomfortably.

“Am I interrupting?”

They both turned like teens caught making out. Liam Cruz stood in the doorway. Talk about filling the frame. Liam was a wide-shouldered, tall, dark-haired former player who now assisted with managing the team. He was also Isla’s fiancé. Addison pushed off the desk and tried to think of what to do with her hands. She took a deep breath.

“What’s up, Cruz?” Sawyer asked. He moved over to his friend and they did the strange ritual men had of bumping shoulders and slapping each other on the back.

“Not much, man. I was just coming up to see Addie for a minute but since you’re here, we’d like you to stick around after practice today.”

“Any particular reason,” Sawyer said. His voice was casual but Addie noticed the way his shoulders stayed stiff. Was he worried?

“A few things to discuss with playoffs.”

The words lay between the two men and Addie breathed in the tension of their stares.

“Do you need something?” Addison asked, looking at Liam. She said a silent prayer that the warmth of her cheeks didn’t mean she appeared flushed.

“I do, but I can chat with you after. You coming for dinner tonight?”

Addie grinned. “Who’s cooking? You or Isla?”

Liam chuckled. “Me.”

“Then, absolutely.”

She loved her friend dearly but she had her limits.

“Okay. See you tonight. You want to walk down to the gym with me?” Liam asked Sawyer.

Sawyer glanced back and forth between Addie and Liam. “Uh, yeah. Just give me a minute?”

Liam eyed them both. Addie saw the big-brother speculation from her friend’s fiancé. Because her family was still in Colorado, Liam and his parents had appointed themselves her family and as Liam had told her more than once, they had each other’s backs. Addie wondered who had Sawyer’s back.

Liam gave Sawyer a hard glare, but Sawyer met his gaze and held it. The moment suspended and Addie’s breath caught.

Nodding, Liam said, “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Addie was still wondering what silent messages they’d sent to each other when Sawyer walked closer, crowding her in a way that made it hard to focus.

“I need your phone number.”

Her stomach twirled like an old-fashioned merry-go-round. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I need to make sure I can contact you when I need to cash in my next favor. Never know when I might need a driver.”

She smiled, biting her lip to avoid letting it take up her whole face. “Hmm. I do have some experience with that.”

They stared at each other for a beat, and in that quick second, a wave of desire pummeled through Addie. It was so strong, so sudden, it shocked her. She held out her hand, and he dropped his phone into it.

Pushing aside the nagging question of how many phone numbers this guy got in the run of a week, she typed in her details. She texted herself so she could reply. And now you have his number in your phone.

“Any restrictions on the favor?” he asked, pocketing his phone.

The laugh burst from her chest. “I don’t think so. Should I be worried? Do I need a safe word?”

His smile was gentle and relaxed. She liked it a little too much. He stepped back. “Nah. I understand ‘no’ perfectly well. I’ll see you around, Addie.”

She nodded, willing her heart to settle back to a regular pace. “Sounds like you will.”

When he walked out, she let out the deep breath she’d been holding. She was about to launch a team-wide initiative on finding and achieving balance. It probably wasn’t a good sign that she felt so unsteady on her feet or that she could easily picture Sawyer McBain being a man who could leave her off-kilter for good.