Slow Heat

He let out a tight breath and bowed his head in agreement. “And you, the Skipper, the owners-hell everyone but me-believes that the world cares about one more ridiculous baseball scandal involving some woman claiming I’ve gotten her pregnant.”

“You can’t blame people for believing it; you do have a bit of a playboy reputation.”

“I never slept with Tia.”

“She produced pictures of you and her on the beach by your house.”

He just looked at her.

“See,” she pointed out. “This is why we have to talk about it.”

“Look, I get what the powers-that-be want from me. From us. We pretend to be a couple in the eyes of the press so I look like a good boy, and our endorsements won’t be pulled. How hard can it be?”

“I don’t know,” she replied cautiously. “How hard?”

His eyes heated. And a matching heat seared through her belly at the inadvertent double entrendre. “You know what I mean, Wade. The plan-”

“The plan is that I have to behave. And you’re supposed to make me.” He paused. “Though I am looking forward to the make me part.”

Oh, God. “You know what? This isn’t going to work.” She was fun, dammit. Even lighthearted at times. Why the hell he made her sound so uptight and stuffy, she had no idea.

Wait. She did have an idea. An exact idea.

She’d slept with him.

Once.

On the one single night in her entire life when she’d had too much to drink. Except there’d been no sleeping involved. To make matters worse, it’d been one of the most erotic, sensual nights of her life. “Listen, I realize we’ve had our differences, but-”

“Differences?” He laughed, then shook his head, still amused.

“Fine, so differences doesn’t quite cut it. We have to get a move on.” A friend of his was getting married. A close friend who just happened to be a big-time Hollywood producer, and Wade was one of the groomsmen. The wedding was an entire weekend extravaganza, where there was sure to be tons of press. If he attracted any of it-and just by being Wade, he most definitely would-he needed to attract good press.

By the end of the two-hour trip to the famed Orange County, specifically Laguna Beach, they needed to be in sync and looking like lovers. Willing to do her part, she practiced a smile on him, the smile that usually got her exactly what she wanted, which in this case was Wade’s cooperation. Thing was, he didn’t often feel the need to cooperate. “You getting in?”

He looked at her for a long beat, all big and built and completely inscrutable, during which time she held her breath. For as kicked back as he was, he was also tough as steel. He had to be. Catchers were known for their courage and toughness, having what was arguably the hardest position in baseball. And Wade was the best catcher behind the plate, period. He had to command the respect of all the players, make the calls on the field, have good sequences in those calls, and the ability to change it up and keep the hitters off balance. All of which meant he had to be smart, sharp, and strong in both mind and body.

Wade was all of those things and more, and clearly one of those things was decisive. He tossed his overnight bag into the limo and followed it in, dropping down next to her even though he could have had the opposite seat all to himself. Leaning back, he stretched out his long, long legs and looked around. “So. We have any food in here?”

“No. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

He was always starving. Probably because he burned God knew how many calories a day between his five-mile runs, weight training, and the game itself. “We can stop and get something to go. Rosa’s?” she asked, naming the closest cafe. Look at that, she was getting the hang of taking care of him already.

“DQ is good.”

She’d never met a grown man with such a love for fast food before. But whatever he wanted, she’d get. It would make him happy, and a happy Wade was a hopefully compliant one. With a nod from her, the driver started the engine and they began their trek, heading through town toward Dairy Queen.

Santa Barbara was a colorful blend of the Spanish history of California and beach living. Wade was looking out the window, taking it in, giving her his profile as they turned onto Highway 1, heading south. The sparkling Pacific was on their right, the green, craggily Santa Ynez peaks on their left, both breathtaking.

They stopped at Dairy Queen and quickly got back on the road. Wade was quiet as he ate, watching as they left the affluent homes and ranches, heading into the outlying county and the less privileged areas. She knew he’d been underprivileged himself. Despite his many faults, he was surprisingly humble and quick to laugh at himself, and often joked he’d grown up so far from the proverbial train tracks that he hadn’t even been able to seethe tracks.

And her?

Well, she’d grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth and everyone knew it. It was certainly all Wade knew about her, because it’d been the only thing she’d ever let him see. He had no idea that the two of them had a hell of a lot more in common that he’d ever guess.

He polished off two burgers and went to work on his fries. “So…” His green eyes were relaxed but assessing as they met hers. “When were you going to tell me they want us to do this boyfriend/girlfriend thing for a whole month?”

“You heard?” she asked in surprise. She’d been asked to talk him into it.

“I work with a bunch of women, Sam. They tell all.”

“You work with a group of professional athletes, male.”

“Who gossip more than a bunch of teenage girls after cheerleading practice. Pace heard it from Henry, who overheard Gage talking to you.”

Pace being Wade’s best friend and the Heat’s pitcher. Henry was their shortstop. Gage, their team manager. And yes, the supposedly professional clubhouse really was similar in nature to a high school locker room.

Sprawled out, relaxed, Wade watched her with a half smile, looking far too appealing. She took a careful breath. “A month shows stability. It’s more impressive than just a weekend wedding fling.”

“So you’re okay with being joined at the hip for a month?”

“If you are.”

He considered this. “Are there benefits?”

“No.”

He sighed. “So much for fun.”

“Hey, I’m fun.” He didn’t say a word, which burned. “I am! And I just realized, there are benefits.”

He cocked his head.

“Well… I can be a pretty convincing bitch when I want to be.”

“Noooo,” he said with feigned shock. “But how exactly is that a benefit?”

“I can scare away all the crazy women that chase you around, thereby giving you a break. And in return, you can relax knowing you won’t have to take care of me like your usual fan-girl, clingy type who bores you within the span of one date.”

He arched a brow.

“Just calling ’em like I see ’em.”

He didn’t say anything to that as he finished his fries, then tossed all the trash into the bag and set it aside. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and said another entire boat-load of nothing.

“It’s just a role, Wade. And it could have been worse. We could have lost the endorsement entirely, or they could have traded you.”

“They’re that desperate for good press?” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Hey, baseball isn’t exactly showing its best foot to the public lately. We need this. The Heat needs this.”

“And your father’s okay with it?” he asked carefully.