Chapter 9
I’d like to say that I was surprised that every surface in the locker room was now adorned with pictures of me from Scored. A normal guy might burn with embarrassment as laughter erupted from around the room. Even my best friend chuckled along with my other teammates.
“Hey, look, it’s our very own supermodel,” one of them called out amid the laughter.
“No need for the mitt; you should have just used a ball,” another shouted, earning him my middle finger.
I couldn’t help but chuckle along. There was zero doubt that if it were any one of them, I would have done the same thing. No need to be upset by it.
Moving toward my locker, I snatched the picture that had been taped to the shelf, and cast it aside. More laughter rang when what seemed like hundreds of pictures poured out and dropped to my feet. Damn, what time did someone wake up to do that?
“You guys are dickheads.”
I had begun to change into my practice gear when Remington walked up to me. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I chided, “Nice best friend you are. Thanks for having my back.”
He burst out laughing. “Dude, do you honestly think I could have stopped them?”
Buttoning my practice jersey, I shook my head. “Probably not. It’s fine. To be honest, I couldn’t give a shit.”
“I didn’t think so. Is it safe to assume you’ve already spoken to Sommer?”
“Yup. We’re cool, though. I do feel bad for not telling her about it. I honestly forgot I’d be in this month’s issue.”
Changing the subject, I couldn’t help but ask, “How’s my favorite three-year-old?”
“Doing her best to remind us we’re not ready for more kids.” He laughed. “She’s good. I never knew how opinionated a toddler could be. That girl is three going on twelve.”
“Bite your tongue. I can’t even imagine her going into her teen years. As it is, I’m ready to start pulling the I’m going to kick your ass if you look at my sister the wrong way, big-brothercard. Riley sent me a selfie from her friend’s phone after playing with makeup. Needless to say, my sister is going to drive our parents, especially our father, crazy.”
Remington nodded in understanding. “It’ll be a wild ride, that’s for sure.”
The shrill of the coach’s whistle blew. Turning, I saw him shaking his head. “Get your asses on the field, and when we get back in here, you’re all cleaning up.” I glared at my buddies, who still couldn’t stop talking smack and laughing. “All except for you, Hall. I’ll assume you didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“No, sir, and thank you.”
“All right, let’s go, gentlemen.”
We all rushed out onto the field to begin our stretching and warm-ups. Since I was pitching tomorrow, I ran through drills and followed the ritual I’d had since I played in college. It hadn’t failed me yet, and I didn’t expect it to.
While the other players took their places on the field, I stayed in the bullpen with my coach and practice catcher. My velocity and ball movement were on point.
“You’re definitely a Jameson,” Coach Markus said. I smiled, knowing that he also coached my father. “Your dad practiced the same way.”
“Thanks, Coach. I appreciate the compliment.”
I settled on the practice mound, my foot against the rubber, when he added, “But you’re better. And I’d tell you that even if your old man were standing here.”
Pride swelled in my chest, hearing his words. When I first came to the Hawks, he told me how much I reminded him of young Cash Jameson. But he never told me I was better. Maybe, two years ago, I hadn’t been.
“I’m proud of you, kid. Now, show me that two-seamer.”
Letting out a breath, I stepped back on the mound, and for the next forty minutes, I threw every pitch he wanted. Once practice ended, I hit the showers, and while my pals were cleaning up, I headed home, but when I drove past a sign for Danny’s Flower Boutique, I couldn’t help but stop.
Something told me that Sommer would be pissed that I sent something to her, but knowing that my forgetfulness caused her grief today and gave her more work to do bothered me. It was a shock it didn’t show during practice.
Thankfully, the lot had only two cars in it, and I hoped that no one recognized me. Rather than wear a baseball hat like a lot of well-known people did to hide their identity, I took mine off. I didn’t consider myself well known, but people were used to seeing me in a Hawks hat. Maybe if it was off, no one would be the wiser.
The bell above the door rang as I walked into the small, empty shop. Immediately, I was overcome with floral scents. Tall glass-door refrigerator cases filled with small arrangements in glass vases and baskets sat on the shelves. On the other side, there was a small table with a wedding book on it.
“Thank you for waiting. I’m Danny. Can I help you with something?”
When I turned, a man who appeared to be in his early thirties, wearing a green apron with the shop’s logo on it, looked at me with wide eyes.
Ignoring his reaction, I walked up to the counter. “Hi, I need to order some flowers for a ... friend and coworker.” He nodded as though he knew I was lying. Fun fact, I wish I had been lying, but it happened to be the truth. Maybe I should have done this over the phone or online. “Would you be able to deliver them today?”
“Yes, of course. Also, this shop prides itself on discretion.”
I gave him a nod. “Thank you. I’m not sure what to pick.”
“Well,” he said, glancing at the floral case. “I’d stay away from roses. How about white hydrangea and pink peonies?” I agreed because I had no idea what either was. “Do you know how much you want to spend?”
Again, knowing nothing about flowers, I shrugged. “Will two hundred be enough?”
The man stared at me as though I’d sprouted three heads. “Yes, that would be more than enough. It will be a very large arrangement.”
“Sounds good. Rather than hand him my credit card, I pulled cash out of my pocket. Will that also cover delivery? It’s local, at the Hawks’ facility.”
“Yes.” He placed a card with a pen on the counter in front of me before excusing himself to the back room for a moment. Maybe he wanted to give me privacy, but it didn’t help because all I could do was stare at the small blank card.
I picked up the pen and held it over the white rectangle. What did I want to write to her that wouldn’t freak her out? She had just agreed to be friends with me, so it should be something simple ... safe. Yet my mind wanted to go somewhere else ... and being me, I let it.
Sommer,
I hope these brighten your day the way you brighten mine. I’m sorry if I caused you more work, but think about if the mitt wasn’t there. No, really ... think about it.
Your friend,
Jimmy Hall
Knowing that the last line would send her into a tailspin (and most likely not in my favor), I should have changed it, but instead, I slid the card into the tiny white envelope and wrote her name on the front of it. When Danny came back a few seconds later, I handed it to him.
He took down more information, and once our transaction had been completed, I walked out of the store with a little added bounce in my step and a smile on my face. God, how I wanted to be a fly on the wall in her office when she got the flowers. Then again, she’d probably get the biggest swatter and smash me for sending them.
Either way, I wanted to see her face, and despite the last line, I hoped they made her happy.
* * *
I reclined in my chair, beer in one hand, remote in the other, and cursed myself for not requesting a notification of when the flowers were delivered. Since it was past five p.m., I knew that she had to have received them by now. Except, I’d received zero texts or calls to prove that theory.
The action movie on television couldn’t keep my attention, and I had no idea what mission was happening or why it was impossible when it always seemed to work out in the end. Maybe that was what I should have dubbed my relationship—or anti-relationship—with Sommer—Mission: Impossible.
Maybe I’d gone too far with the mitt comment. With my luck, she’d call and tell me that I could no longer call her Sommer, and being friends was off the table. Dammit! I was an idiot. Why did I go there? I knew better when it came to her and women like her. Or maybe I didn’t and that was my issue because I have never known a woman like Sommer. The women I knew would have wanted to be the mitt.
Fuck.
I picked up my phone and debated calling the shop, but they were closed, so that didn’t help. Flicking off the television, I took the stairs two by two and went into my bathroom. Maybe a shower would help ease some tension.
Cranking on the water, I waited until the steam heated the air before stepping inside. Droplets of water danced on my body, doing nothing to ease away thoughts of Sommer. If anything, it made it worse.
Shit, I needed to have sex. And not just sex. I needed her.
I grabbed the bar of soap and ran it all over my body. Once lathered, my right hand skittered down to my dick and, of its own accord, began stroking it. For balance, I placed my left hand on the cool tile while my right squeezed and tugged with perfect pressure and movement.
My breath became ragged as I could feel my climax build in the bottom of my spine. Images of Sommer popped into my head: the way her eyes sparkled when she was fired up about something, the way her ass looked in a pair of jeans, how her blouses showed a swell of her cleavage when she bent over to talk to me.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I let myself think about her beneath me. Bent over her desk. On my table ... in my bed. Moving my hand faster and faster with each thought of how much that woman excited me. On a low grunt, my release came relentlessly, leaving me spent but with her still on my mind.
Reaching forward, I turned the knob to cold and rinsed myself off before stepping out and wrapping a fluffy towel around my waist. And that was when I heard my doorbell. Forgoing clothes and assuming it was Remington, I hustled down the stairs barefoot and half-naked. Water drops fell from the ends of my hair and down my body.
“I’m coming!” I yelled after it rang again. When I pulled it open, it wasn’t Remington but Sommer. A very stunned-looking Sommer. Her eyes scanned my body.
“Hey, sorry, I just got out of the shower and didn’t hear the gate alert.”
Her slender neck worked down a swallow. “I should have called. I’ll go.”
She turned to leave, and instinctively, my hand shot out to grab her arm. That was when my towel decided to slip a bit. Sommer turned and gasped right before spinning around, facing away from me.
I shouldn’t have smiled, but I did. “Come on in. I’ll go change and be right back down.”
Not waiting for her reply, I did as I said, and within record time, I was back downstairs in my track shorts and my black Hawks T-shirt.
Sommer stood in my family room, looking at the pictures on the built-in shelving next to my fireplace. She turned and gave me a tight smile.
“Hey. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I should have called.”
“What’s up? Please don’t tell me this is about another public relations debacle. I swear, whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s about the flowers.” Rather than say anything, I waited for her to continue. “Thank you, they’re beautiful and totally unnecessary. I won’t mention the mitt comment.”
“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but it was true nonetheless. And as far as them being unnecessary, I disagree. You deserved them. I should have told you about the shoot when we talked. I really did forget about it. But you liked the flowers? Danny at the shop assured me they’d be beautiful. That was why I was in the shower.”
“Because of the flowers?”
“I was worried that you didn’t get them or maybe didn’t like them. I don’t know much about sending flowers or varieties.”
Her eyes glassed over as though lost in thought. “I love hydrangeas and penises.” She shook her head. “Peonies. I meant peonies.”
Rolling my lips between my teeth, I simply nodded.
“Please ignore me.”
“Don’t think that’s a possibility.”
“It has to be.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I took a step closer and placed my hands on either side of her face. Her pretty green eyes rolled up to meet mine. “I know you don’t want me to, but I like you.” The soft skin on her nape rested against my fingers. “All you need to do is give me a chance.” With a gentle lift of my thumbs, I eased her head back. Anticipation filled the air. God, I wanted her, but I reminded myself to tread lightly. Surprisingly, Sommer’s lashes fluttered closed. The overwhelming desire to crash my lips onto hers washed over me. The subtle scent of her perfume drifted up, almost teasing me.
It would have been easy to do what I’d been wanting, but rather than kiss her lips, I softly rained gentle pecks down her cheek, along her jaw, and over the column of her slender neck. Tiny goose bumps peppered her skin. Knowing I had that effect on her had my dick stirring to life. Except I couldn’t go there, not yet.
Sommer’s head tilted to the side, allowing me more access, and everything in my being wanted to take advantage of her silent invitation, but instead, I placed a final soft peck on the tip of her nose and lowered my hands.
Her eyes slowly opened. Our gazes held for a few beats. “We could be great together, Sommer. I don’t know what happened in your past or what you think will happen if we date, but if you give me a chance, I’ll prove how good we can be.”
“It’s too complicated. Today, when your flowers arrived, all eyes were on me. Even Gregory asked who sent them.”
“What did you say?”
“I’m not a good liar, so I told the truth. I said they were from a friend.”
“Right.” I took another step back. “I’m just glad you liked them. And again, sorry for not telling you about Scored.” Needing to lighten the mood, I said, “Next time, why don’t you come with me?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Sommer turned and walked toward the door, opened it, and took a step outside. “Next time, maybe you should keep your clothes on.”
I winked. “No promises.”
Sommer rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”
The door closed behind her, and I said to no one, “You can count on it.”