Chapter Twenty-Three

Liam’s mood hovered somewhere between turned on and pissed off. He’d never paid much attention to the media commentary about himself because it came with the job. If he dated anyone more than once, it hit some form of celebrity gossip medium. Never before had he let it bother him, but the idea that Isla would feel insecure or unsure because of a picture with Lara, whom he’d never had any interest in dating, bothered him.

He had friends whose marriages and relationships had struggled because of media spotlight and speculation. He’d just never had anyone he cared enough about to worry. Isla was becoming a first in a lot of ways.

As they descended the steps to the field, her hand in his, he felt her stop and make a cute sound of appreciation. Eddie, the groundskeeper, had helped him out.

“You already have a picnic set up?”

When he turned, her smile touched something deep inside of him, like she’d uncovered the sun after a long winter. He was seriously sunk. With him on the lower step, they were eye level, and she put her hand to his jaw. He needed a shave, but the commercial had wanted a couple days’ growth.

“I figured you’d be hungry. Plus, I really think your childhood was lacking field time.”

Looping her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his in a way that diverted his attention from food and anything other than Isla, she kissed him. Kissing had always been a prelude for Liam. Laying the groundwork for the good stuff. But with Isla, it was all the good stuff.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she pulled back.

He meant it when he said, “My pleasure.” Tugging her hand, he led her down to the blanket beside the pitcher’s mound and sat with the basket between them. They’d slipped off their shoes before they hit the green space, but he should have thought to bring cleats. Next time.

Liam opened it up, pulling out the wine, cheese, grapes, crackers, strawberries, and other snacks he’d had his cousin throw together. While they munched on fruit and cheese, Liam told Isla more about his day, how Ethan had purposely captured the picture, and Bruce had shown up to ask him about accompanying him on a trip.

“He’s doing what he can to undermine me,” Isla said, huffing out a breath. “He scooped a conference call from me, and when I asked about the winter meeting for the GMs, he said there was no room for me.”

Liam didn’t want to overstep. Besides being a conflict of interest, he knew she needed to make her own decisions, come to her own conclusions. Bruce was being an ass. But Isla needed to sort that out for herself. Unless she truly doesn’t know what kind of power she has.

“Do you have someone advising you? I want to. I mean, I want to talk to you as your boyfriend who knows a hell of a lot about baseball, but I don’t want to influence your decisions.”

Isla lowered her hand without picking up the strawberry she’d been going for. Her eyes were wide, and it might have been the stadium lighting, but they looked a little misty.

“Babe?” Had he already overstepped? Dammit. It didn’t have to be him, but she needed someone in her corner who could guide her. How did he suggest that without making her feel like he didn’t believe in her?

When her grin widened, stretching her cheeks and brightening her eyes, he laughed and leaned in, cupped his hand around her neck, pulling her closer. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

“I haven’t been anyone’s girlfriend in a long, long time. I guess the label just kinda…I don’t know. Made me mushy or something. Ignore me. I haven’t had enough sleep.” Her eyes darted down, and his heart turned over, like a puppy going belly up.

“God, you’re incredible. You’re such a powerhouse one moment, and then the slightest of compliments reminds me how absolutely sweet you are.”

He hadn’t thought much about labels, either, but he knew, whatever else happened, he wanted her to be his. For them to belong to each other. Didn’t matter if it was too much, too fast. His parents had spent three days together on a college camping trip and known from the first second. His grandparents had married after a month. Sometimes life went that way. Sometimes a person worked their whole life, like Liam did with baseball, to get what they wanted. And now, something he didn’t even know he wanted had shown up at his bar and changed everything.

Worried he might scare her off with his train of thought, he pulled her up so they were both standing. “We’ll get to the food. Come on.”

Eddie had dragged out the smaller, easier to move ball machine and set it up by the dugout. Liam picked up a ball, tossed it a few times, then put it down. Turning to face her, he started to roll his sleeves.

“You have anything under that sexy jacket?”

She grinned and undid the buttons, pulled it off her shoulders, which left her in a camisole-type tank top. Standing there in her bare feet, pencil skirt, and what could be considered lingerie, she looked edible. Liam licked his lips, and Isla tipped her head back, laughing. The sound filled the stadium and his chest.

“Okay,” he said, picking up the ball again. “First, how to hold a baseball.”

She arched one of her brows. “I know how to throw a baseball, Liam.”

“You’ve thrown a baseball?”

“Well, I don’t know. In school I think. But a ball is a ball.”

With mock disappointment, he shook his head. “No, babe.” Walking closer, he held the ball to show her. “You don’t want to grip it. You want to hold it soft, leaving a little space, like this.” He turned so she could see, and she leaned in. The scent of her perfume distracted him for a moment, but then he pointed to the seams. “You want two fingers over the seams, your thumb here. When you release, it’ll spin off your two fingers.”

He lobbed the ball straight ahead. Isla shrugged, picked up a ball from the bucket, and copied what he’d done. It arched up and fell about ten feet in front of her.

“Don’t push down with your fingers. You want the ball to roll off them.” Stepping up behind her, he put another ball in her hand, wrapped his arms around her, and showed her where to position her fingers, shook her arm a little, encouraging her to relax her grip. “Relax, Red. You’re wound tight.”

“Uh, hot baseball player smooshed up against me. Of course I am,” she muttered.

Liam chuckled, his hands dropping to her waist. “Smooshed? Guys don’t smoosh. I’m not even sure that’s a word.”

“Well, there’s a word for having your front pressed to my back while I’m trying to learn something,” she said, her tone amusingly snappy.

He kissed her neck, pressed his mouth below her ear. “What is it?”

“Distracting.”

She arched, pushed her ass out to move him back, and took a step away. Jesus, she was funny. And determined. By the time she’d thrown six balls, she had a better spin on it. Liam walked closer to the dugout and grabbed the gloves. He came back as she was throwing another ball.

“Elbow needs to be above the shoulder. That’s it. You need to keep your feet planted as you follow through. There you go.”

Pride filled him when the distance of her next throw surpassed all of the others.

“You’re a natural.”

She laughed. “Hardly. But you’re right. It feels good.” She tried again, and it went even farther. Her laughter made it fun, reminding him of the first time he’d held a ball. He was five. He’d picked up that ball and knew he wanted to be a ballplayer.

Isla rotated her shoulder. “That’s going to ache. No wonder you guys have to ice down.”

Liam swung the bat a few times, listening to the whoosh as it sliced through the air. He loved that sound. Only one sound better in the stadium, and that was making contact.

“You ready to try the ball machine?”

Isla looked over at it. “Uh, it’s going to spit out baseballs toward my head?”

Liam laughed. “It’s not aimed at your head.”

She tilted her head and scrunched her lips. “I’m not so sure. How about I watch you?”

Liam showed her how to load the ball into the machine, adjusted the speed, and walked across the field.

“Ready when you are,” he hollered.

When the ball came, the sound of the bat making contact hummed through him, created a bone-deep satisfaction.

“Oh my goodness!” She shouted it, staring at him. “That was insane!”

He laughed, waggled his eyebrows playfully even though satisfaction over her expression buzzed through his body. “Baby. That was nothing.”

Like a kid in a candy store, she kept asking for more, and Liam couldn’t help it, he fell further because her delight was energizing. When he’d hit a dozen balls, he walked over and kissed her. She didn’t seem to mind that he’d worked up a sweat, but then, she’d helped him do so in other ways more than once.

“You are incredible. If you weren’t on my team, I’d seriously be wooing you,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

Liam laughed. “Hmm. Maybe I should have utilized my free agent status.”

“Well, you’re stuck now. I’m keeping you.”

The bat fell to his side, and he scooped her up, pulling her body against his own. Her hands went to his shoulders and his circled, holding his own arms so she was basically sitting on them.

“I like the sound of that. Careful. I might get ideas,” he said. She leaned down, took his mouth in a kiss that made him wish they weren’t in the middle of the field.

The way she leaned back, cupped his face, made his heart do that weird jump slash squeeze thing.

“Once things are more settled, when I get my dad to back off and make it clear to Bruce that he’ll have to get used to me, we can stop hiding. But it’s better for both of us this way.”

As he loosened his grip, letting her slide down his body, he hated that she was right. He’d have lawyers all over him, his contract torn apart. It wasn’t like he’d ever sue her for harassment or something, but the media would have a field day. And that would have a definite ripple effect. He’d had a good career, and he knew he was coming to the end of it, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that to be now. Going out on top mattered to him. But so does Isla.

“Is it my turn?”

Pulled back into the moment, he nodded, kissed the bridge of her nose. “Yup. I’m going to throw the ball for you, though, because I want to teach you how to stand first, how to swing.”

She bit her lip, staring at him with her brows scrunched.

Using his index finger, he smoothed the lines. “That okay?”

She nodded. “You know, I’m wondering, do you know if the team has ever done anything with schools? Like a partnership? Can you imagine how pumped kids would be if they could get some one-on-one instruction from players?”

He grinned. Liam could see the gears turning. “I know there’s a few guys who work with rec centers and stuff. Definitely be worth looking into. You still thinking of talking to that Conroy guy?”

They walked toward the home plate and she side-eyed him, a grin tipping up her unpainted lips.

“His name is Jonathan. I think you’d like him,” she said.

“As long as you don’t,” he replied, pointing to the plate.

Stopping in front of him, her hands on his chest, she tilted her head back. “Liam Cruz, you are the sweetest, sexiest man I’ve ever met. Without question. How on earth can you be jealous of a business partner you’ve never met?”

“You were jealous of Lara.” He stared pointedly.

Her nose scrunched up. Freaking cute. “She’s a model.”

“Yeah, well, your pal Jonathan didn’t exactly fall off the ugly truck.”

Her belly laughter made it hard to fight his smile. “You looked him up?”

Liam shrugged.

“Maybe we should set Jonathan and Lara up.”

Now, he laughed. “How about we just worry about us?”

“I like us, Liam. It feels like the rainbow after the storm. Or during the storm, in my case.”

Kissing her was like breathing. Necessary. “Me too, Red. Let’s stop doing this to each other. I won’t act like a dick about Jonathan and you remember what I told you. Whatever you see online isn’t real. Us, right here…this is the most real I’ve ever felt. And I have to say, watching you enjoy the sport I love is only making me like you more.”

“Well then, I’d better hit a home run,” she said, taking the bat from him.

He took a few minutes to show her how to stand. He also took a few minutes getting distracted by curling his body around hers.

“Uh, is this how you learned?” She turned her head as much as she could to look over her shoulder at him.

He smirked. “Not exactly. But I think it’s effective, don’t you?”

“We’ll see. Are you going to throw the ball to me?”

He stepped away, moved in front of her. “Let me see you swing first.” Watching while she pretended to hit a ball, he nodded. “Okay, but keep your head up. Put your legs a little farther apart. You’re going to move with your hips, like I showed you.”

She swung again.

“You want to square the bat up when you follow through. Okay, I’m going to toss a few balls.”

She missed the first three and he gave her further instruction, reminded her what to do. When she made contact, she dropped the bat in her excitement.

“I did it! I hit it!”

Laughing, he hugged her. “Yeah, you did. Let’s try it again, okay?”

They went through it about a dozen more times, and Liam realized that between Isla and baseball, this had been one of the best nights of his adult life. And he wanted more of them.

“Come on, I’m going to show you the different positions like I did on the paper, and then we should get home.”

“Home?” She was still standing on the plate.

“My place? Yours? Doesn’t matter to me. We aren’t being followed or stalked by the media. It’s close to midnight. Drive your car, I’ll drive mine, it’ll be fine.”

Walking over, the bat hanging by her side, she used her other hand to run her fingers through his hair.

“We’ll flip a coin. Because it doesn’t matter to me, either.”

The stadium lights, the woman, the smell of the field. Yeah. He’d hit a home run all right.