Baseball and Other Lessons (Devil's Ranch Book 2) (11 page)

“If those are Whataburger taquitos I might just have to kiss you.”

“Guess it’s my lucky day, then.”

Jenn heard rather than saw the grin on his face and suppressed a smile as she grabbed her now full coffee mug. She quickly added sugar and creamer before taking her first, fortifying sip of caffeine.

Leaning against the countertop, she said, “Okay, I hate to sound like a broken record, but what are you doing here, Matt?”

“I thought that was obvious—bringing you hangover food.”

She took another sip of coffee. “But why?”

“Consider it an apology.”

She didn’t even have to ask him what he was apologizing for. “You don’t have to apologize. I know what you meant. I was just slightly drunk and took things a little too personally.”

He settled against the counter next to her, close enough that their arms brushed ever so often, causing little tingles to shoot up and down her arm and straight to her core.

“It was a personal conversation, how else were you supposed to take things?”

She looked down into her coffee mug and asked, “Why are you being so nice to me, Matt? I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you since you came home, and yet here you are. You keep showing up, bringing me food. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe it’s my way of trying to make things up to you. Maybe I just need a friend. Maybe I’m in to self-torture.”

She smiled and took another sip of coffee. “I’m going with door number three.”

“You would.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Nice PJs, by the way.”

Belatedly, it dawned on Jenn that she was wearing a skimpy pair of sleeping shorts and a thin-strapped, light yellow camisole that hid absolutely nothing. As smoothly as possible, she crossed her arms over her chest and took another sip of coffee.

They stood side by side in silence for long moments, Jenn now painfully aware of her lack of clothing and the sudden absence of her animosity. Heat came off of Matt in waves, along with the subtle scent of him, the scent that made her think of tangled sheets, leather, warmth and man. She didn’t know what that scent was, but she kind of wished she could bottle it up and take it out to sniff every now and then.

“Your taquitos are getting cold.”

“They’ll heat back up. I need to finish this coffee first before I can do anything else.”

“Are you one of those people who needs a gallon of coffee in the morning in order to not go homicidal on everyone?”

“Not a gallon. I usually just need a cup. But get between me and that cup of coffee and I might get stabby.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem. What about you?”

“Me? I rarely get stabby.”

She snorted. “You know what I mean. Are you a coffee drinker?”

“Not really. I like a cup every now and then, usually in the winter time, especially when I’m sitting in a deer blind freezing my ass off.”

She smiled, used to hunting talk considering Chase, Owen, Matt and Matt’s friend and agent Darrin all owned the Devils Ranch just north of Del Rio. It was a huge place with fantastic views of the Devils River, and butted up to a big ranch owned by Texas Parks and Wildlife. The four men had bought it at auction some years back, and had turned it into a private hunting ranch that catered to businessmen and wealthy folks wanting a bit of privacy along with their venison.

“Do you get to hunt often? I would imagine you’re pretty busy, even in the winter time.”

“I try to make sure to get in a few hunts a year, including one out at our ranch. Honestly, I wish I could get in more, and spend more time out there. Chase and Owen do a great job with it, and God knows Daniel’s an amazing manager, but it feels more like an investment than something I’m actively involved with.”

She didn’t know the ins and outs of how ranch tasks were handled, but with Chase and Owen being the two owners in Del Rio and therefore close by, they were definitely more hands-on than Matt and Darrin were. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember ever even meeting Darrin. And Daniel, the ranch manager, was a super nice, very bright guy who ran the place as if it were his own. “Has Darrin ever been out here? I was just thinking about it and realized I can’t remember ever meeting him.”

“Not that I’m aware of. I was talking about it with him back before we bought it at auction, he mentioned he’d been looking for some good investments and figured land was a great one since they’re not making any more of it. That was that. I don’t think he’s ever hunted a day in his life.” Matt chuckled. “Actually, it would be hilarious to see him out of his designer suits and in a camo jumpsuit.”

“I take it he’s a bit of a city boy?”

“Oh, absolutely. But he’s great at his job and a good friend, so I put up with him.”

Jenn smiled. “Do you miss Dallas?”

Matt looked down and picked at his thumb nail. “I miss playing ball.”

She asked the question she’d been wanting to ask him for weeks. “What are you going to do if they don’t clear you to play again?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Matt…”

“That’s not going to happen, Jenn. I’ll be cleared to play again.”

“Are you still having concussion symptoms?”

“Not really. I’ve had a couple of headaches, but nothing excruciating and that could specifically be blamed on the head injury.”

“Fair enough. But what if your skull doesn’t fully heal before the end of this season? Or what if the doctors think it would be too great a risk for you to pitch again?”

“Is it just me or do you maybe care just a little what happens to me?”

Jenn snorted. “I’m curious and practical. That’s all.”

“I think you care.”

“Whatever.” She turned and set her empty coffee cup in the sink. Matt reached out and grabbed her hand with his own. She glanced down at their entwined fingers and raised her eyebrows as she looked up at him. He was gazing at the refrigerator across from them.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do after baseball. I figured I had a couple more years to make plans for the future.”

“Matt, you’re thirty-five. You have to know you can’t pitch for forever.”

“I know. I’m not stupid, Jenn.”

“I never said you were.”

“I know. I’m just…I thought I had time. I still have a couple of years left on my contract. I figured I would let it play out, retire gracefully and find something else to do. Maybe get more involved with the ranch. Maybe do some charity work. I’ve thought about coaching, but I don’t even know if I would enjoy it.”

“So you have thought about your future after baseball.”

He shrugged. “I guess I have, a little. Nothing serious, though.”

“Well, those all sound like good options.”

“Yeah. I’m just not ready for those to be my only options.”

They stood in silence, her hand clasped in his, and for the first time in ten years Jenn allowed herself to feel something other than anger and antipathy towards Matt. She looked at him and saw a proud, confused man who needed guidance and, yes, a friend. If someone had told her a month ago that she would be standing in her kitchen with Matt Roberts, contemplating being his
friend
, she would have told them they were crazy.

His hand tightened around hers, and Jenn did something even crazier than thinking of him as a friend—she wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head against his chest.

Matt stood frozen for a few seconds, and then tentatively hugged her back. It was kind of awkward, a little sweet and a lot confusing.

Jenn wasn’t sure what this meant going forward, but she did know that they couldn’t go back to the anger-filled place they’d been in for the past ten years. Could she be friends with Matt, or was that playing with fire?

The feel of his thumbs brushing against the small of her back in a slow, relaxing pattern pushed through the swirl of thoughts in her head. Like the first flowers of spring, her body slowly woke up nerve ending by nerve ending.

This stupid attraction was so inconvenient.

She pulled away, tugged her camisole down and grabbed the Whataburger bag on the countertop. Before she could move away completely, Matt reached out and cupped her face with his hand. She wanted to arch into his palm like a cat.

Instead, she stood there, still, watching him watching her. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he inhaled a quick, shaky breath. Her heart pounded in her chest and dammit, she
wanted
this man.

He hadn’t even kissed her, and she wanted to climb inside of him.

Matt stepped closer, crowding her body with his own, and Jenn’s pulse thickened in her veins like some crazy voodoo drumbeat. Her fingers itched. Her skin tingled. Her lips wanted nothing more than to press against his.

That Matt Roberts scent wrapped around her nose and her brain, making her thoughts fuzzy at the edges.

She was having a hard time remembering why kissing him would be a bad idea.

His thumb stroked her cheek while his other hand rested on her hip. His fingers flexed against the cotton of her boxers and she kind of wished his fingers were flexing against nothing but bare skin.

Matt’s eyes darkened to that mossy green color she remembered from all those years ago, and she licked her lips. He moved closer, nuzzled his nose against her temple and then her cheek.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, anticipating what was next no matter how wrong it was. Matt’s lips were soft and he kissed her cheek, the tip of her nose and then her other cheek, taking his time. Jenn’s breath caught at the unexpected affection, and the slow heat building in her belly.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, the curve of her jaw.

How was it that big, masculine Matt Roberts could be so gentle?

Jenn sighed as Matt pulled away from her. Her body swayed forward of its own volition, and his grip on her hip tightened.

“I think someone’s at the door.” His voice was hoarse, like he’d just run a marathon through the Sahara.

“Hmmm?”

He chuckled. “Someone just rang your doorbell.”

Oh, did you ever.

Wait, what? Jenn’s eyes blinked open and Matt slowly came into focus. His beautiful mouth was twisted into a wry grin, his hazel eyes burned with something that looked a lot like lust and his breathing was just the slightest bit uneven.

Oh. Shit.

What the hell had she just done?

#

Matt knew the moment Jenn returned to the present. Her green eyes sharpened, the flush on her cheeks deepened and her body tensed. Not two seconds later she’d taken two steps away from him and couldn’t seem to look him in the eye.

One step forward, two steps back. Wasn’t that just the way of it?

She set the Whataburger bag back on the counter and cleared her throat. “I, uh, should probably get that.”

She walked around him—making sure not to touch him—and towards the front door. Matt closed his eyes, sighed and ran his hands over his head.

What the hell had he just done?

He turned and followed her into the living room, only to see her wrestling a box half her size through the front door.

“Need some help with that?”

She shook her head and continued to try to pull the box through the doorway.

It didn’t move.

She made a cute frustrated sound before letting the box drop to the floor and turning towards him. “Screw it. Can you help me with this?”

Matt moved towards the front door and then bent and picked up one end. The damned thing had to weigh at least eighty pounds and was probably the size of a mini fridge.

“What the hell is it?”

“I have no idea.”

He managed to wrestle the entire box into the living room enough so that they could shut the front door. He pulled out a pocket knife and Jenn held up a hand.

“Wait.”

“Okay.”

She checked the label on the box and sighed. “I’ll open it later. Can you just move it to a corner or something?”

Matt put the knife back in his pocket and shrugged. “Okay. But are you sure you don’t want to just go ahead and open it? I can break down the box so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“No, it’s really okay. I can get it myself later.”

Jenn clearly did not want to open that box with him around, that much was obvious. Curiosity piqued, Matt glanced at the shipping label as he moved the box to a far corner of the living room.

“Rebecca McDonnell. Isn’t that your mom?”

Jenn sighed. “Yes. How’d you know?”

Matt set the box down. “She was my ninth grade chemistry teacher.”

“Right. I forgot she was still teaching while you were in high school.”

“She’s retired now?” It didn’t seem like Mrs. McDonnell was old enough to be retired, but what did he know about being a teacher?

Jenn shrugged. “More or less.”

A phone rang from down the hall and Jenn held up a finger. “Hold on a second. Let me go get that.”