Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1) (11 page)

“
T
he police chief
!? Really Minka? The police chief is your dad! You couldn’t have given me a fucking heads up. Jesus!”

My little minx giggles in the passenger seat next to me. This situation was anything but funny. I nearly shit my pants when I saw her cop father walk up behind her. That guy is seriously going to cut my nuts off if I ever even look at her the wrong way. Which of course I never will.

Speaking of looking at her, I can’t stop. She’s piled all those curls into a bun at the top of her head, which makes her look even more fucking exotic and delectable than usual. She is wearing this curve hugging white sundress that I seriously am considering ripping off of her with my teeth.

I’ve had a boner ever since she opened the door. Which was kind of awkward seeing as how her father wanted to put a bullet in my balls.

I didn't need to admit to the girl I was crushing on that her father made me quiver in fear. Chief Braxton was not a small man. He wasn't even your average dad.

When you thought of someone's father, you thought middle-aged, sporting a gut, mildly intimidating, but good-natured fellow. Minka's dad was a goddamn pitbull.

He was taller than me, probably about six foot five, in better shape than any cop I'd ever seen, and was menacing as shit.

When she'd walked away to do god knows what, possibly leave me to die, he turned his laser focus on me.

“Sorry, it was just too good. And I’m getting used to this whole protective, overbearing dad thing.”

Hm, she was actually revealing something without me having to pull it out of her. I decided to keep on this line of questioning.

“Yeah, he mentioned that you were working on your relationship. What did he mean by that?”

I reach over the console and drag her hand to rest on my lap. Just her hand on my leg makes me instantly calmer. And also brings my dick to half-mast.

“We are. My dad and I, we haven’t always been the best communicators over the years. He’s been pretty absent, but…..well, I guess I should tell you that my mother died giving birth to me.”

A frown marks her beautiful, plump lips and I instantly regret asking her about it. “I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t know…”

I was never very good when it came to death, or comforting people in grief. I hadn’t experienced it all that much.

“It’s ok. I’m not bitter about it. Never have been. Mostly I just get sad that I never got to know her. But that’s why its been so hard for my dad. He pretty much fell apart after she was gone. Threw himself into work, slept at the station most nights. It was as if I lost two parents.”

I can’t imagine what that loneliness feels like. Sure, my dad could be an asshole, but my mom supported and loved me more than she did herself. My family was always together on holidays, birthdays and at least one weeknight dinner. Looking at it from her perspective, my reluctance to sit down and talk with my father seemed petty. At least he was in my life.

“But recently, we had a blowup. Which was actually positive,” she snorts. “We aired our grievances, and he’s going to try to make more of an effort.”

“That’s…great.” I smile, trying to forget his death threat on me just minutes earlier.

“Oh, you don’t have to pretend he doesn’t scare the shit out of you.” She squeezes my leg and my cock shoots from half-mast to wind blown sails.

“You do that again and he’s really going to kill me for what I do to you,” I stare into her eyes, which flash with heat. At this rate I’ll need to pull the car over and get her in the back. Its been way too long since I’ve tasted her.

“So what about your father? I recommend a huge blowup. It really does wonders for that fatherly bond.” She smiles, but I could tell she was trying to broach the subject of my dad.

This was definitely not the car small talk I wanted to engage in. “Alright, rap goddess. Can you take a little rock and roll?

Minka gives me a knowing glance, but thankfully drops the subject. This trip has already gotten off to a rough start, what with the firing squad I’d encountered at her house. I want to relax, see Minka let her hair down. I don’t want to sour our mood with shitty talks about how much my dad sucks.

The opening guitar chords of one my favorite songs blasts out of the speakers, and I jack the volume up even more. I pull my aviators out of where they rest on my shirt collar, slip them on and begin to sing along. Badly.

I peer over at Minka, and see her heated gaze taking in my entire form. A spark of lust hits me square in the gut. I can’t get us to the beach fast enough.

I begin to belt the words again, and I look over to see her laughing hard. And damn, she’s a sight.

Her curls whips around in the wind coming through the open windows. She has her head tilted back, her mouth wide with a smile. Her delicate hand lays in my lap, and the other clutches her chest over her heart, as if she can’t catch her breathe from giggling.

A little piece of my heart breaks off and makes its way across the car to her. If this girl keeps showing me these unfiltered moments, if she keeps letting me in, I might just fall in love with her.

T
he beach house
is one of my favorite places on earth. The house itself is impressive, as was every piece of real estate my father purchased. But this place was pure, so much more toned down than his usual gaudy castle he bought.

The exterior sported those faded gray shingles you always saw when you pictured Nantucket, and the front yard was more a mixture of grass and pebbles than sloping green lawns. I was always glad my father never tried to maintain that pristine standard here, it felt more natural.

The house was three stories. The bottom level featured a large garage that housed bikes, kayaks, paddle boards....basically any beach entertainment item you wanted, we had. The other side of the bottom level was made up of a huge media room. One side was its own private movie theater, complete with the comfy black loungers. The other side held a ping pong and pool table side by side.

A memory slams into me....my father and I....him teaching me to play both. The memory brought a warm sensation into my chest.

It's why I loved this place most of all. I had only good memories of my father here.

I grab our bags from the trunk and escort Minka inside the media room.

"So this is the fun zone." I wave my hand around as she stares, not hiding her impressed smile.

"Wow. I see you really spared no expense, huh?"

"Oh, quit playing the 'I loathe rich kids' card. You'll be thanking me when you can watch The Notebook in all its surround-sound glory later."

She wrinkles her nose. "Ew, really? You take me for that kind of girl. I'd rather kick your ass in pool."

She makes me want to bound across the room and throw her over my shoulder. The girl’s full of surprises, and most of them turned me on immensely. "Duly, noted. Spank Minka's ass in pool, I'll add that to the list."

"In your dreams, pal."

"Let's go drop these upstairs."

We make our way to the second level, which houses two of the four bedrooms, and a massive great room which doubles as the kitchen and living room.

The kitchen is state of the art, all stainless steel appliances and cream-colored counters. The overall theme of the house is beachy chic and neutral tones, beiges and creams stole over every piece of decor. Mama had picked rustic, antique pieces with just enough flare to suit her expensive taste.

I move into the living room and set our bags down with a thud on one of the gigantic overstuffed couches.

"So here's the dilemma." I wait for Minka to stop drooling over the kitchen to propose my plan. I know I need to tread lightly. "There are two guest rooms down here. But my room, and my parent's master suite, are both on the third floor."

She blinks, clearly not understanding where I’m headed with this.

"There is nothing more I want than to have you share my bed this weekend. In which case I can take both of these bags upstairs. It has the best view of the beach too, just saying. If you need extra convincing." I stop, assessing her face. I can’t read the indiscernible expression that swims in her stunning eyes, which were now the color of deep, dark honey. "But, I know you might not be comfortable with that. And I really want you to be comfortable. So this is absolutely your choice."

She contemplates me, and I can see the wheels turning in the back of that pretty head of hers. I silently pray she picks my bed. I want nothing more than to hold her in my arms all night. And maybe there were some other especially dirty fantasies I wanted to put into action too.

But I would forgo the dirtyness, it would be tough but I would, if she agreed to sleep in my bed.

"I think I'd like to stay in the guest room. Don't hate me..." Minka cringes a bit and looks down at her shoes.

I’m across the room in two seconds flat. I gently push my fingers under her chin and tip it up until I can see her sharp, exotic features in full view.

“First of all, I could never hate you. So forget that. Second, don't be ashamed or embarrassed for holding true to something. You don't feel comfortable. I would feel terrible if you chose to stay in my bed and didn't fully want to be there. I am thanking my lucky stars that you even came on this little getaway."

Again, a niggling feeling at the base of spine alerts me to the fact that she has definitely been burned in the past. I won’t pry it out of her, but I also hate that she doesn’t feel one hundred percent secure in my presence.

"Let's get you set up in the room down the hall. It has the better bathroom." I grin at her, trying my best to erase any fears or doubts taking up space in her head. "I promise I won't even try to sneak in here in the middle of the night."

When she speaks next, her voice is infused with a tiny bit more confidence. "No one said you couldn't try that."

O
wen's room
really does have the best view.

After settling my stuff into the guest bedroom downstairs, he'd convinced me to at least come up and see his rad Owen-cave. His words, not mine.

The room is enormous, it practically takes up half of the third floor. The half that is not occupied by his parent's suite that is almost as big as my house. When I'd walked in and seen their bathroom, I told Owen he could lock up when he left, I'd be living in their soaking tub until I died.

Owen's room matches the rest of the house in its creamy beige color palette, with accents of nautical decor throughout. His California King is backed by what looks like a huge piece of driftwood that has been painted ivory and made to look distressed. But what it faces is far more beautiful than the actual bed.

Directly across the room are floor to ceiling sliding glass windows that open up onto a balcony. The whole thing wraps around the entire top level of the house. I stare in awe as I make my way towards them, completely ignoring the hot slab of man putting his clothes away in the free-standing armoire across the room.

Pressed up against the glass, so close I'm probably slobbering on it, I look out at the most breathtaking beach view I've ever seen. And that would also be only the second beach view I've ever seen.

Dad was never big on vacations, as noted by his frequent absences. Chlo's family had taken me on a trip to Florida with them in middle school, but I found the beaches in Miami to be crowded. And filled with women in bathing suits that I'd be embarrassed to walk around in even today.

But this ocean view? It was majestic. Owen's house sat almost directly on the beach, save for a dune shielding the back of the house from the prying eyes of beach guests. All you'd have to do was walk up and over the sand hill to meet the ocean.

"You can go out on the deck you know..." Owen chuckles, coming up behind me. I can feel his body heat against my back, and am instantly overcome with a warm buzz, wanting to feel his hands on me. Instead, he reaches around me, brushing his arm against my waist in the process, and clicks open the latch, pulling the giant doors apart.

I wasn't sure I could move just then. Tingles move up and down my spine from just his contact against my skin. My body yearns so badly for him to just move his mouth down and close in on my neck. Like he'd done all those weeks ago in my kitchen.

"Quit thinking about getting me naked, Braxton." He skims his finger down my arm, another repeat from my kitchen, goosebumps trailing in its wake. And then, just as my eyes close and a sigh forms on my lips, he smacks me square on the ass.

"Ow! You dick!" I scowl at him as he twists around me and runs to the railing of the balcony.

"You only want me for my amazing body, we get it. But come over here and check out this view." He teases, facing away towards the ocean.

I join him at the railing and try to shove my elbow into his ribs, but he’s quicker. He catches my arm and pulls me in front of him, bracketing me between the railing and his, yes, amazing body. My heart rate picks up.

"There, that's better." I feel him nuzzle my hair and then rest his chin on my head. My heart literally melts into a pool of wilted-girly feelings. This is why I can’t stay in his room.

While the fear that he'd be just like Gregory had almost evaporated, Owen had done absolutely nothing but make me feel secure, it was replaced by a whole new fear. The fear of falling. I was getting too close, letting him slip past my defenses and every wall I'd put up. I knew that if I'd agreed to share his bed, he'd tear them all down, shoving into the nooks and crannies of my heart. Places I'd never be able to get him out of.

I liked him too much, and it was only a matter of time until he left. I needed to keep straight about what this was, a summer fling. It was fun, sexy, and yes, he was great at romancing me. I had been seeing the world through rose-colored glasses ever since he'd stepped into it.

But the summer would eventually end, and I couldn't expect that Owen, a college sophomore, and someone destined for celebrity and super-stardom, would wait around for me to graduate high school.

That's why I needed to keep a safe distance, avoid getting caught in his orbit. Because if I did, I would definitely get burned.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" I can feel his breathe so close to my ear that it sends delicious shivers down my back. No way was I spilling all of the fears running through my mind.

"I was thinking about how beautiful and quiet it is out here. Nothing like Miami."

I can hear the smile on his lips. "Oh, yeah? Are you a Miami connoisseur or something?"

"No, it's just the only other beach I've ever been to me. My friend Chloe's family took me when I was thirteen.”

"Seriously? This is only your second trip to the beach?" I turn my head back and nod as he guffaws in disbelief. "Well shit, I have to show you what a real beach is like. Go slip into something sexy and let's go for a walk." His hands squeeze my hips.

"You're a perv."

We make our way to our respective bedrooms, but not without him trying to follow me into mine and subsequently getting the door slammed in his face. When I’m finally alone, I heave my suitcase onto the spacious king bed, and begin to rifle through it.

Rooting around to try and feel for the straps of my bikinis, my hand hits the corner of a box. "What the...." I pull, finally freeing the item, and groan when I saw what my hand comes up with.

Condoms. Those idiots had put condoms in my bag. Chlo and Kels must have stashed them at the bottom of my bag when I'd been talking to my dad.

Tossing them aside, I start to pull out my clothes and arrange them in piles. I find my black bikini that ties in a bow at the center of my chest, and think it qualifies as something sexy.

I tie the pieces of fabric to my body and then pull a long sun dress with a watercolor flower print on over my suit. Checking my hair and makeup in the mirror, I’m satisfied that I haven’t become too smudged or wrinkled from the car ride.

Just as I finish applying some chapstick, Owen's knock sounds on my door. "Come on in."

He opens it as I set the tube back on the dresser, and I have to remind myself to breathe when I turn to him.

White board shorts hang low on his narrowed hips, and I can see the v-shaped muscles indenting the sides of his abs. His stomach muscles tense under my stare, and his skin, the color of buttery leather, looks like silk stretched across steel.

A white short-sleeve cabana style shirt hangs open on his frame, unbuttoned. His thick arms are crossed in front of his chest, the white material of his sleeves stretched tight across his bulging biceps.

His college baseball hat makes his loose, syrup-colored locks fan out to frame his face. When I bring my attention, finally to his face, his azure eyes have turned a stormy dark blue, a wolfish grin spreading across his full lips.

"Are you done? I'd like to take a walk this century."

I laugh, realizing I have been openly gawking at him. "Yes, let me just grab my sandals."

I bend down to retrieve them by the night stand, and am horrified when I see what is sitting just in front of my face. Jesus, please just this once, don't let me be embarrassed.

"What are those?" Too late. Owen has definitely seen the box of condoms, I can tell by the curious, smug expression with which he asks his rhetorical question.

"Nothing. I…I didn't put them in there."

"Sureeee, you didn't." He teases."Let's go, Miss Prepared."

I huff as I follow him out. I was going to kill those two.