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“Her dream man,” Callie said, laughter in her eyes. “Riley Kelleher is Janie’s seduction target and I now understand why you haven’t done anything about it. Goodness, Janie, when you decide on a conquest, you do aim high. The star of the team?”
“I know, I know. He’d never even consider…”
Callie put her fingers over Janie’s mouth. “Don’t you even think that. You’re lovely and he’d be damn lucky to get you.”
Babe’s nod set her blond curls bouncing and made her curvy figure jiggle in a way that her new boyfriend probably loved.
Janie didn’t wiggle. Ever. Not if she jumped up and down. Not even if she stood on her head. Or in a wind tunnel.
She grabbed the ice cream. “Forget it,” she said as she dug in, the chocolate and raspberry creating a cacophony of sinful excitement on her tongue. Much like Riley would, she imagined.
Not happening.
“I won’t forget it,” Callie said, looking her over. “You know what? I like this idea. You might be just what Riley needs.”
“A skinny fan-girl?”
Callie pinched her. Actually grabbed her arm and pinched her with her strong fingers. “That’s enough of that.”
Rubbing her arm, Janie began to laugh. “Okay, Mama.”
“If I were your mama, you’d stop trying to hide your looks.”
Babe, digging out a big spoonful of ice cream, nodded her agreement. “She’s right, you know. You’re exactly Riley’s type.”
Janie cast a doubtful look down at her unimpressive curves. “Uh-huh.” Then she licked her spoon, unable to stop thinking of Riley. And ripples. All those yummy, muscular ripples.
“I mean it,” Babe said. “He needs a nice, normal woman with class. Brodie says Riley’s a good guy, despite his reputation and his bad press from a few years ago.”
Callie backed her up. “I’ve known him since Donovan first bought the team. Riley went through a total dog phase after his divorce. But since then, he’s just been a great guy who ignores the skanks who follow him around.”
Well, she wasn’t a skank. There was that. But she was not at all convinced the man wasn’t a player. She’d seen Riley’s magnetism up close and personal. No way could he be that good with women if he didn’t get a lot of practice with them.
“What does it matter whether I’m his type or not?” she muttered. “All I wanted from the man was a one-night stand. Hot sex. Because there’s no way on God’s green earth I’d ever let myself actually fall for someone like him.”
Callie frowned, looking almost disapproving. “I just said he’s not a bad guy, despite his past.”
“Dogs and new tricks…ever heard of them?”
“Second chances, ever heard of them?”
“Okay, forget you being his type,” Babe said, cutting them both off. “You’re right, you said all along this would be a wild fling. Just because Callie and I batted out of the ballpark and found true love doesn’t mean you have to, or even want to.”
She did. She just wasn’t fool enough to think it would be with someone like Riley Kelleher.
Babe continued, “So, you can just have a couple of amazing booty calls with the pitcher, then go on with your life.”
Janie couldn’t help laughing. “Booty calls, huh?”
Callie rolled her eyes, but also smiled. “I still say you two are a great couple. But if booty’s all you’re after…”
“It is.” Janie wouldn’t even allow herself to consider going after more. Not a woman like her. Not with a man like Riley.
She was a plain Jane. And he was a superstud.
Uh-uh. It’ll never happen.
Sighing heavily, she admitted, “I’d be lucky to get a call for a beer, much less booty. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the gorgeous, seductive, booty type.”
Maybe once she had a man naked she was. Her few previous lovers had always seemed…pleasantly surprised by her enthusiasm. But getting a man into bed wasn’t her strong suit.
“You’re lovely,” Callie said as she reached for Janie’s ponytail holder and tugged it free, sending her long hair tumbling. She lifted it and started piling it on Janie’s head, leaving a few tendrils draping down over her shoulders. “As for seductive? Well, honey, I know all about making yourself that.”
Babe was tugging Janie’s glasses off her nose. “I know a little something about makeovers myself.” Then, without warning, they both dove for their handbags and grabbed bottles of makeup, tweezers and containers of eyeshadow. Janie could only sputter as they began to smear and spread, highlight and pluck.
Unable to do anything but sit still for fear one of her eyeballs would get poked out, she put up with it for a few minutes, then tried one more time to protest. “Guys, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can!” they both said as they each took an arm and spun her around. They were watching while she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror hanging over her desk.
And at that moment, spying the exotically made-up woman with the upswept hair, the shadowed eyes and the full, reddened lips, Janie began to wonder if they might be right after all.
4 (#ulink_56ac22c3-991e-5706-81bf-4cb5ee7cc477)
A few days later
RILEY HADN’T thought much about the fact that he hadn’t been laid in ages until he noticed the brunette in red. The woman was sitting a few tables away at Diamond, his favorite restaurant. He’d watched her come in, her nicely curved body nicely displayed in the sparkly cocktail dress that revealed a mile of leg. Not to mention a mouthwatering hint of delicate cleavage.
Riley’s heart had skipped a beat when she’d entered the place. It’d skipped another when he heard the soft, lyrical sound of her voice talking to the hostess as she’d approached.
She was a beauty, but a quiet one. A classy, petite, perfectly formed feminine package, and she’d made every masculine cell in his body come to attention. Instantly.
For some reason, he’d felt a flash of recognition, as if he knew her. But he knew he didn’t. He’d definitely have remembered a woman as sultry as this one.
Sipping his beer, he’d ignored the voice in his head that tried to convince him his celibate streak ought to end, because she had to be meeting someone. But as the minutes had stretched on, no one had joined the woman. He couldn’t believe any man would stand her up, but it looked as if that’s what had happened.
Since she was seated facing him, he surreptitiously noted the slender neck and her high cheekbones. Her delicate face was almost heart-shaped, framed by a mass of rich brown hair. Highlighted with streaks of gold, her hair was pulled back except for a few long curls brushing her shoulders.
Then there were the eyes. Wide-set, big and brown, like dark chocolate. With her lush red lips the color of ripe raspberries, he couldn’t stop thinking of the ice cream the shop around the corner had named after him. And how much he wanted to lick her juicy lips and to taste that creamy vanilla skin.
“Enjoying your evening, Mr. Kelleher?” a smooth voice asked.
He shook off his study of the stranger and glanced up to see the owner of the place. Rumor had it she was about to remarry Donovan Ross. “Yes, thanks, everything’s wonderful, as usual.”
“I was glad to hear you’d be dining with us,” Callie Andrews said. “Though I do wonder why you never bring anyone with you.”
He hadn’t been tempted to bring anyone anywhere—into this restaurant, into his life—for a long time. So why he couldn’t stop focusing on the brunette, he had no idea. “Can’t get a better steak in Louisville,” he said, speaking to Callie, though his attention was glued to the female four tables down.
The female who suddenly looked up and caught him staring.
Riley almost looked away. His first instinct was to break the visual connection and let his attention casually roam over the other diners in the restaurant. Evade. Avoid. Walk away.
That had been his strategy for some time now. Evade emotional traps. Avoid potential complications. Walk away from anything that could be construed as genuine personal interaction.
Even sexual interaction was something he didn’t think about too much these days. Sure, in the first year after he and Bronwyn, his first wife, had split, he’d taken solace in the arms of any attractive woman he’d wanted. But it hadn’t helped. He’d quickly realized he was being stupid…as selfish and self-indulgent as his ex had been. So he’d gotten back on track, determined to remain private, unattached. Detached. Except for his family, he’d let no one come close. It just wasn’t worth the risk.
It had worked. Pretty much.
He and the stranger continued to watch one another. Riley noted the way her eyes flared and her mouth opened as she sucked in a quick breath. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and a slow flush of color rose from her neck up her cheeks. Not a flush of embarrassment…their staring hadn’t disconcerted her. But a warm rush of heat. As if she’d sensed he’d been undressing her in his mind, considering letting go of his rules and his self-imposed exile from anything resembling romance.
Then she smiled. A tiny smile…a welcoming smile. A come-here-and-buy-me-a-drink-and-I’ll-make-your-night-divine smile.
Oh, man, he was in trouble.
“So what have you been doing with yourself?” Callie asked.
“We’ve been on the road a lot.”
“Don’t I know it,” she mumbled.
Smiling, Riley lifted his beer mug. “Been missing Donovan?”
“Desperately.” She quickly glanced side to side, as if afraid she’d been overheard. Lowering her voice, she added, “But don’t tell the big jerk I said that. His head’ll swell too much to fit through the door.” The sparkle in her eyes told him Callie wouldn’t have her ex-husband any other way. That she adored him.
A sharp stab of want hit Riley in the gut. Damned if he was a jealous man, and he didn’t covet Donovan Ross’s fiancée. But maybe, deep down, he coveted that feeling Ross must have when he looked at the woman he loved and knew she loved him just as much.
He’d never had that.
Oh, he’d loved, but as for being genuinely loved in return? Well, he didn’t know if any guy in his position could ever be sure of that. Because most women they met were after a notch on their own player’s scorecard. Or a big fat alimony check, like the one he wrote out every month, which was the real cherry on the sundae since he’d been the wronged one in the marriage.
The judge hadn’t cared. And the media hadn’t bothered to question Bronwyn’s claims that Riley’s off-the-field playing was responsible for the breakup of baseball’s favorite sweethearts.
Those closest to him—his parents, brothers, good friends—knew the truth. To hell with the rest of them. He’d long ago realized people would believe what they wanted to believe.
Shaking off the memories, he glanced at the stranger again. She was sipping red wine, which left her lips ripe with color.
“She’s very attractive, isn’t she?”
He should’ve known the restaurant owner would pick up on his not-so-subtle interest. “Yeah,” he mumbled.
“Want an introduction?”
“You know her?”
“I might. Shall I…fix things up?”
“Got a second career as a matchmaker going?”
She shuddered visibly. “Donovan would never forgive me.”
“Then it’s just as well I’m not looking to be fixed up.”
“Suit yourself. If you like dining alone….” Walking away, she left him with nothing to do but look into the depths of his drink. Or at the woman across the room.
She was definitely a more interesting subject, and apparently she felt the same way about him. Because again, she caught him watching her and after a quick, nearly imperceptible shift of her eyes and quiver of her body, met his gaze boldly.
But that tiny flash of hesitation told him something. Right at that moment, Riley got it. This woman hadn’t been stood up. The tightness of her lips, the tremble in her hand, betrayed her nervousness and he finally figured out her game. She’d come here, dressed like that, to one purpose: to pick up a man. Any man. And he was the man she’d chosen.
He could almost visualize what would happen if he accepted the hot, unspoken invitation in the brunette’s eyes. He’d smile as he walked to her table. She’d invite him to join her. They’d share another drink and talk about nothing while whispering a million silent, erotic promises.
They might make it through dinner…or they might give up any pretense and walk out before their food arrived. Their hands would clasp, fingers entwining as they left the building, knowing what was about to happen. Her leg would brush against his, a delicate touch of near innocence that was utterly sinful.
They’d make it to the parking lot before they kissed. Riley’s hands would be buried in her soft hair while he roughly explored the depths of her mouth with his tongue. They’d share breaths, share heat, share an almost indescribable excitement.
Once inside his car, they’d pause for another intense, more private kiss. And if they were lucky, he’d have the strength to start the car and drive to his place—or hers—to finish what they’d started. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to wait, though, and his cramped car would do for some quick, hot, fabulous sex.
He’d played this scene before. Not recently—not for a few years. But it had happened in his early days with the Slammers.
You’re not that guy anymore.
No, he wasn’t. He’d long since realized meaningless sex was not the way to eradicate the memory of his failed marriage. And that, as strange as it seemed, he was being used, too, by women who never wanted Riley the person…just Riley the pitcher.
He didn’t hate them for it. Hadn’t his wife, the woman who’d pledged to love and honor him until death, wanted the sports star, too?
Not the man. Never the man he was inside.
So he’d changed. He wasn’t one of the players off the field anymore, despite the rumors. And he didn’t care. Life was good now without women. Which made it hard to understand why he couldn’t stop thinking about the brunette.
“You know what,” he murmured to his waitress as she came to deliver his dinner, “I’ve changed my mind. Can you box that up?”
The waitress jerked her head up and down, as obsequious to one of the star players in this town as most other people.
Like the lady in red?
That cinched it. He wasn’t certain the woman had recognized him, but it was possible. And he sure didn’t want any obsequious woman willing to do anything to say she’d made it with a sports star. He’d been there, done that. So as soon as the waitress came back with his food and check, he handed her some cash and stood to leave. His stride didn’t slow as he passed the stranger, though he was unable to resist giving her an appreciative nod, if only to thank her for the distraction she’d provided.
Once outside the main dining room, however, he realized he’d forgotten his dinner. “Damn,” he muttered. Because he was hungry. And because he’d look like a loser going back in there to get it after playing Mr. Cool and Confident while escaping.
“Problem?” the hostess asked.
He could ask her to retrieve his bagged dinner. Or he could walk out and hit a drive-through on the way home. In the end, however, he decided on a third option. “I just decided to go into Fever Pitch for a while,” he told the woman, smiling as he crossed the vestibule to the quiet bar, which served light food. Not his nice medium-rare steak, but it’d do.
Anything would do, as long as it got his mind off the temptress he’d just walked away from.
* * *
“THIS WAS the stupidest idea on the face of the earth.”
Janie didn’t bother keeping the disgust out of her voice. There was no point. Callie had witnessed the entire humiliating scene that had just unfolded in the restaurant. There was no way the other woman, no matter how loyal, could deny the truth: Janie had given it her best shot. And had been completely shot down.
