Chapter Three

Addie’s stomach felt like she’d downed a fistful of Pop Rocks and a chaser of soda. Her body was literally vibrating and most of it was from fear. She hadn’t told him everything. He’d agreed, very begrudgingly, but who could blame him? Sawyer McBain was currently changing into an Armani tux to be her show-and-tell for the evening, and she hadn’t given him all the details.

When did she turn into such a coward? For someone who prided herself on relationships and organization, she was sorely mismanaging both things right now.

Reginald Dawson, the current head of the MS foundation charity association, walked her way, his lips pressed in a flat line. She’d heard through someone else that he wanted his brother-in-law to take the vacant seat on the board. A Nashville born and bred insider. Something Addison was not.

When she moved here last January, to support and be with her best friend and boss, Isla Bennett, she’d promised herself, and her mom, that she’d do even more to make an impact. In the fifteen years or so that she’d been part of fund - and awareness-raising for multiple sclerosis, there had been some major improvements and steps in the right direction. Addie had been fueled by the desire to make her family’s life better despite her mom’s illness since she found out about it at twelve years old. In doing so, she’d found a passion for contributing as a whole.

Which sometimes made her do slightly crazy things like kidnapping baseball players.

“Miss Carlisle,” he said, his eyes cooler than the ice-blue tie he wore. His job of overseeing the foundation was meant to focus on making lives better, but he had a tendency to treat others with disdain. He wasn’t unkind. Just…dismissive. Unless a person had the proper credentials and family lineage. Addie’s fund-raising, charity, and volunteer work should have spoken for itself. Loudly.

“Mr. Dawson. Everything looks beautiful,” she said genuinely, looking around at the gorgeous ballroom. Silver balloons, streamers, and taper candles decorated the space. Mini white lights shone through a gauzy silver fabric that hung loosely from the ceiling. It had been Addie’s suggestion to do a silver-themed event to honor the twenty-fifth anniversary of the local organization. She’d brought it up at the last meeting and though Mr. Dawson had suggested “newcomers” simply listen, the others on the board had been receptive to the design idea.

The man’s salt and pepper hair made him look distinguished rather than old. He was old-school, old-money, and didn’t seem to like Addie for the simple fact that he didn’t know where she came from. Not that he’d asked.

“It does. But then, we always do a wonderful job with presentation,” he replied.

Fidgeting with the clasp on the black clutch she held, she forced herself to hold his gaze. She could endure almost anything when it came to finding ways to make her mother’s fight easier.

Mr. Dawson looked around and then settled his gaze on her again. “I heard your guest had a last-minute cancelation.” Was she imagining the pleasure in his tone?

Other people milled about, dressed in their finest silks and satins, and for one quick second, staring at this man who looked down his nose at her, she felt like she didn’t fit in. How stupid is that? My money, time, and effort are every bit as good as yours.

“Lenora brought a singer. Damon someone or other,” he said, brows raised.

Addie’s jaw dropped and her eyes searched the crowd. Did he mean Damon Sutter? The swoon-worthy singer-songwriter who was climbing the charts? She was definitely a fan. But what woman who had eyes and listened to music wasn’t?

She willed her heart rate to settle, but come on! The man wrote lyrics that made women believe real love was out there waiting for them. She didn’t spot him, but she did see several other stars. Her breath quickened and she reminded herself they were all just people too. Really freaking awesome, hot people. Addie should have been more chill, since she spent her days in a building full of superstar athletes, but in truth, she didn’t interact all that much with the players. But that is going to change, and you can’t act like some groupie.

Mr. Dawson cleared his throat. “Being able to follow through on your word is very important. We have a lot of families that depend on us,” he said. She felt like she was in high school, being chastised for not turning in her homework. A retort settled heavily on her tongue.

A warm, strong hand rested on her shoulder, fingertips curling in, shooting sparks all the way to areas that hadn’t had any attention in a long while.

“I think that’s very commendable,” Sawyer’s rich voice said. His body brushed against hers as he came to her side. “When Addie asked me to attend, the enthusiasm and passion in her voice was enough to sell me on being a part of the great work you do.”

Mr. Dawson’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open for a fraction of a second. He held out his hand. “Sawyer McBain. It is an honor. I’m Reginald Dawson, executive director of the Nashville organization.”

Sawyer squeezed Addie’s shoulder before removing his hand and shaking Mr. Dawson’s. It was no secret that Reginald was a hardcore sports fan with a particular fondness for baseball. He’d know that Sawyer tended to avoid large-scale events. He might have enough sway to influence who sat on the board, but running into someone from the Slammers was not an everyday occurrence for the man.

“Nice to meet you. It’s wonderful that you have volunteers like Addie to help make your foundation so successful.”

Mr. Dawson all but rubbed his hands together, and though Addie felt warmed by Sawyer’s words, she had a feeling it was more to do with Dawson’s attitude than his appreciation of Addie. They’d had a rocky start but maybe, just maybe, they could become friends.

“Yes, well. It’s a great cause. And I’m happy to see that you followed through, Addison. Any of our hometown team would have been great, but this is exceptional. Just excellent to meet you, Sawyer. Hell of a hit you took. You look all healed up now. Just in time for the playoffs. That’s got to be a thrill for all of you.”

“It absolutely is. We’ve worked hard to get where we are, and our new management has led with extreme grace and commitment. It’s a team effort.”

Addie stared up at him. Holy-stock-answer. Did he believe what he said or had he said it so many times it was memorized? Sawyer looked at her, then back at Dawson. “You have quite the crowd here.” She heard the edge in his tone.

“Yes. We always pull in a large group of supporters. We’re happy to have you on board. People will be leaving their paddles in the air when you hit the stage. I bet we raise more this year, between you and that singer, than we have ever before.” His grin was blinding and a lot more genuine than the one he’d given Addison. “Speaking of which, I should get things started.”

He walked off, and Addie’s insides bunched like an accordion. He could still walk out and it would be even worse now because Dawson knows who you brought. The second favor was really an extension of the first. Turning slowly, she saw his scowl and was ready to launch into a defense of her actions when his eyes narrowed and roamed down her body.

She bit her lip and smoothed a hand over her hip. She felt her pulse in way too many places. Under her suit jacket, she’d worn a black evening dress. She’d put a white dress shirt and jacket over it so when she’d picked him up she looked more like one of the servers. In the bathroom, she’d ditched the outerwear, leaving only the dress. The sweetheart neckline had easily been hidden beneath the bulky overcoat, which had also restricted the sexy A-line. A thin black ribbon circled her rib cage, right under her breasts, making them look fuller than her average size. Her shoulders were bare and with her hair up, she knew she looked elegant, even though she hadn’t paid a fortune for the dress. She’d had high-paying jobs for several years now but chose to live frugally, funneling money into causes close to her heart. Mostly. She had a weakness for pretty purses but felt everyone should have a vice. It humanized them.

“Where were you hiding this outfit?” Sawyer’s voice was rough, his eyes heated.

Addie swallowed. She hadn’t known until right this moment that just someone’s tenor could make her skin come alive. “I’ve been wearing it the whole time.”

He breathed deeply, his eyes fastening on her own. She had to remind herself that she had only one goal here and it had nothing to do with running her hands over Sawyer McBain. But boy, did she want to. The tux she’d brought fit him like he was modeling it for GQ. The slight stubble on his square jaw gave him an extra sexy vibe.

“Explain the ‘when you hit the stage’ comment,” he said. Music from a five-piece string band welled behind them.

Putting on her don’t-be-mad-at-me smile that only ever worked on her dad, she walked toward the ballroom. His hand curled around her arm and he gently pulled her back to face him, making sensation shoot straight to her stomach.

“Let’s dance,” she said, not meaning for her voice to come out husky and breathy. He followed when she stepped farther into the room. Addie used the position to put one hand on his shoulder, urging him to dance. He took the lead, putting a hand to her waist and moving around the floor with graceful ease.

“Addison,” he said, his tone brusque.

“Uh. Well, see, we were supposed to bring people who might inspire the guests to donate money to spend time with them.”

“Excuse me?”

She leaned in, though he was so much taller than her, it didn’t have the desired effect. “It’s a charity auction. They’re expecting the high-profile guests to be auctioned off.”

“You’re pimping me out?” His jaw dropped. “Like Pretty Woman?”

She shushed him and looked around the room. Even though guilt racked her, she smirked. “You are not Julia Roberts. And of course I’m not pimping you out. It’s for charity, damn it. Some lucky person will get to spend the rest of the evening with you, including dinner, for a very generous donation.”

Sawyer’s frown deepened and he scanned the room. “Most of the women here are my grandmother’s age.”

Addie bit back a laugh, but a quick scan of the room showed he was right. “Maybe a man will bid on you.”

He tilted his chin down and glared at her. “That supposed to be funny?”

Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. “I’m sorry.”

She’d gone about it all wrong and she knew it. What an absolute mess. She should have just asked Isla for help. Even if the team was at an away game, her fiancé, Liam, who was the former heavy hitter for the team, probably had some famous friends. Though everything she’d done tonight suggested otherwise, she hated taking advantage of people, and Isla had enough on her plate. The truth was, she’d panicked. She wanted so badly to succeed here, to make a home in Nashville, to be part of the Slammers but also part of the community, that she’d leaped before she looked.

Dropping her hands, she shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. How I’ve behaved is completely unfair to you. I’m ashamed at the lengths I went to. I understand if you want to leave—I’ll even drive you home. I have no excuse for myself, and you deserve more than this.”

Sawyer tilted his head to the side and studied her. Her chest ached with the pressure of his stare. Guilt kicked her heart rate up another notch. Surprising her, he stepped closer and pulled her back in his arms.

“Your mom is living with MS.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I can take advantage of someone else for personal gain.”

Though music and people filled the room, Addie felt like it was only the two of them. Somehow, whether it was the size of him or just his personality, Sawyer created an invisible bubble around them as they swayed together.

“What’s the personal gain?”

She scrunched up her nose and stared at him. His forehead lowered so it was almost touching hers. She blinked and inhaled sharply. “To get a seat on the board.”

“To skim funds? Misuse accounts? Take advantage of families already suffering?”

Her jaw dropped, literally, opening and closing like a fish. His questions were offensive but what struck her more was how much they said about him. Or rather, who he had in his life. Was he really that jaded?

“Of course not. Why would you say something so awful? I told you I was sorry. I’m not a terrible person. I offered to take you home. Why would you be deliberately cruel?”

He didn’t seem bothered by her outrage. Sawyer held her gaze as casually as he held her in his arms, like it meant nothing. “I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I’m trying to figure out what the personal gain is for you going to the lengths you did to get me here. You said a seat on the board, but as far as I can figure out, even that is selfless. You want the seat to raise money for people with a disease you don’t even have.”

Blinking, trying to absorb his words, she sorted through them. “You don’t have to have MS to be affected by it.”

His smile slowly warmed his features, making his eyes brighter and more captivating. It was so unexpected—the scowl was pretty hot, too, but wow, his smile—that Addie lost her breath for a moment.

“Exactly. If that’s the kind of personal gain you’re being so hard on yourself about? Well, let’s just say it’s a refreshing kind of selfishness. But I’m doubling up on the payback.”

Hope made her heart trip. “You’ll do the charity auction?”

His scowl returned. “I will. Never know when I might need an extra favor.”

The way he said it sounded rather ominous, but she wasn’t in a position to argue. The Nashville Slammers had been through a lot in the last year. Their owner died, leaving the team to his estranged granddaughter, who’d almost been forced to quit. Their beloved heavy hitter had retired, they’d hung on by their fingertips this entire season and could be heading into the playoffs. Hometown pride was a big thing. Especially right now. Sawyer McBain was going to be a moneymaker on that stage. Like Magic Mike but…well, clothed. She grinned at the thought.

“I have no problem being indebted to you twice over.”

He shook his head like she was confusing. “You’re an interesting woman.”

Shrugging, she decided to take that as a compliment. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He shrugged and scanned the crowd as he moved them around the floor.

He was a pretty interesting person himself. Hot one minute, cold the next. Hard to read and temperamental. Though tonight wasn’t really the best circumstances to judge him, Addie figured there was a lot more to Sawyer than the impression he gave. She just didn’t know if it was good or not.

“If the winning bid is a handsy grandma, your job will be to run interference so none of my body parts is pinched.”

Stifling the giggle that wanted to burst free, she nodded her agreement. “Is your grandmother handsy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I brought a couple of teammates to the home she lives in and she grabbed both their asses.”

Unable to hold back, Addie laughed loud enough to draw attention, and for once, she didn’t even care. She was dancing with more than a superstar. He had a grandmother he visited in a home and he took pity on Addie when he could have told her to go to hell.

She wasn’t sure what the payback would be, but he’d more than earned it, and the night was only just beginning.