The Heart Of The Game (8 page)

“It’s
Cody
.” Zoe turned to him. “Meet Coco—she’s the bossy sister,” she said, following her sister’s instruction and moving toward him. Zoe’s shoulder touched his. And she stiffened. Not the reaction he might’ve hoped for given the stiffening in one part of his body he was glad was hidden by the draping tablecloth.

“Closer,” Coco commanded, not looking out from behind her camera.

Zoe inched closer and then turned to him. Her gaze locked to his and her pupils dilated. The almost imperceptible signal told him that she too felt the energy between them.

“For goodness’ sake,” Coco said, waving her camera at them. “At least smile. And look at
me
. This is a wedding photo, not a passport shot. And move your heads closer together.” She waved her hand, pointing. “Alex, you get in this one too.”

Zoe didn’t move, but Cody couldn’t resist leaning closer. She smelled like late-spring honeysuckle warmed by the sun. Or maybe roses. He wrapped his arm around the back of her chair, careful not to touch her too much, but just enough to feel the warmth of her through the fabric of his jacket sleeve. Hell, he felt the warmth of her clear through his body.

“Make this the last one, Coco,” Alex said as he moved closer in on Zoe’s left. “You’ll have stolen all of my soul at this point.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale,” Coco said from behind her lens. “Besides,
baseball
has your soul, dear cousin. Or maybe Jackie does. You can’t blame losing it on me.” She waved her hand. “Zoe, smile, would you?”

Cody kept his eyes toward the camera. He might be crazy after all, because he swore he could feel Zoe smile. Feel it—like the sun coming out from behind a cloud and lighting everything it touched.

“
Much
better,” Coco said, adjusting her zoom and angling her camera. And then she went still. She lowered the camera and looked straight at Cody. She stared for the briefest moment and then turned to Zoe. A look that Cody couldn’t decipher passed between the sisters.

“My turn,” Zoe said, pulling away from the pose she’d held between him and Alex. She held out her hands. “Pass me that camera.”

Jake took the camera from Coco and handed it over to Ryan. Gage brandished his baby-food-covered fingers, and Ryan wisely stood and walked the camera around the table to Zoe.

She clicked off a couple of shots. “Now,
sorellina
, let’s see
your
soul. Jake, Ryan, lean in toward Coco.”

Coco grimaced and then shot an exaggerated smile at her sister. She had the same dark hair Zoe had, but her brown eyes gave her an innocent, doe-like look. Yet when Coco glanced to her left and met Jake’s gaze, Cody saw something that caught his attention. A month ago he wouldn’t have recognized the signs that conveyed the energy arcing between Jake and Coco. But he knew those signs now.

Zoe clicked off a few more shots.

“Enough,” Coco said, pulling away from the pose and shaking her head like a cat shaking off an unwanted stroke of affection.

Jake crossed his arms and looked down at his plate. Coco’s evident effect on Jake shouldn’t have made Cody feel better, but seeing that he wasn’t the only man in the room navigating the powerful, sensual energy that the Tavonesi sisters triggered at least told him he wasn’t imagining things.

Like Cody, Jake kept to himself. He was a great team player, but off the field he was quiet, almost shy. Except when he partied. Then he was a wild man. The first week he’d been called up, Cody had toured some of the downtown bars with Jake. But the late nights dulled his edge and before the end of the week, Cody had begged out of the carousing. Partying and running around worked fine in the first couple of months, but after nearly 140 games in the minors—and a move to the majors—recreation took a back seat to performance on the field.

But they weren’t playing now.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, Jake had a damned good opportunity for a date sitting right beside him.

Zoe lifted her champagne flute and held it out for a passing waiter to fill. “Thank goodness they’re skipping all the formal dancing rituals. I’ll get to eat,” she said as she sipped.

Cody wasn’t sure what she meant, but it occurred to him that he would like to dance with her. To hold her close, if only for one dance. To see if the mysterious power he was beginning to crave would hold up for longer than the length of a glance or a fleeting touch.

Waiters delivered plates of grilled salmon and roasted vegetables. One thing he loved about living in the Bay Area was the fresh fish. An arm jostled him just as he was about to dig in.

“There you are,” a deep baritone voice said. Cody looked up just as Zoe’s dad leaned down to brush a kiss to her cheek.

Zoe lifted her hand and covered her dad’s where it rested on her shoulder. “I thought you’d abandoned us, Papa.”

“Never.” Santino Tavonesi glanced around the table, eyes only for his daughters. “I came to make sure you girls save me a dance.”

“As you can see, you may have competition,” Coco said in a laughing voice from across the table.

“I’m claiming family rights,” Santino answered. His tone was light, but his eyes weren’t smiling.

“Be careful what you promise family,” Alex said with a wink to Zoe.

“Are you provoking revolution among my offspring?”

“
Hardly
necessary,” Alex said with a laugh.

The affectionate family banter, so foreign to his own experience, lit a pang of envy in Cody’s belly. Put his dad and siblings around a table and there’d be explosions of long-held anger at worst or coolness at best.

But as Alex introduced Santino around the table, Cody watched Santino’s eyes. He sensed tension lurking below the surface of the man’s nods and smiles. Zoe watched her dad too. From the way she held her body, it seemed to Cody as if she was looking for something, something she feared.

Zoe was quiet after Santino left. She toyed with the plate of fruit and cheese a waiter placed in front of her. His brain said
don’t
, but he had to ask. The driving desire to connect with her was a force his rational mind couldn’t hold back. Just as he opened his mouth, Coco rose from her chair.

“Dance! I’ve been fed and watered—well,
champagned...
Is that a word?” She giggled. “Anyway, now we must dance!” She rounded the table and tugged at Gage. “
You
are the chosen one.”

Gage blushed but took Coco’s outstretched hand and followed her from the table.

The hell with questions, Cody decided. He’d much rather have Zoe in his arms.

“Dance?” he said, turning to her.

She winced. Not the reaction he was hoping for.

“I’m a terrible dancer.” She didn’t move from her chair, but unless he was mistaken, the rhythm of the music already danced in her.

“Doesn’t matter, so am I,” he lied.

When she nodded, he felt that he’d been given the keys to the kingdom. But seeing her apprehension, he didn’t offer his hand as she rose from the chair. He could take it slow. Years of practice reading people and responding to cues and signals told him he’d better go in easy.

But as they walked side by side, weaving their way through the throng of guests and out into the festively lit courtyard, his driving desire to kiss her was nearly impossible to hold back. Going in easy might not be so easy after all.

The steady rhythm of a popular remix flowed through Zoe as she and Cody reached the dance floor.
Move
. The word whispered in her, beckoning.
Dance
. Moving her body usually freed her from any mood holding her in its grip. But as they found a space at the edge of the throng of dancing couples and she looked up at Cody, it wasn’t the music that captured her. His confounding half smile held her as she began to sway her hips.

“I’m better at cowboy line dances,” he said over the beat of the music.

The man could move.

She hadn’t expected that such a big, muscled man could move his body as he did. There was a raucous energy to his movement, unlike what she’d seen from the quiet, almost formal man before. Perhaps this was the man who rode broncs and bulls, the man under the mask of calm control that she’d sensed from their very first touch.

With a mind of its own, her body began to mirror his movements and energy, and soon they were communicating in the ancient, wordless language of dance.

Zoe raised her arms and felt that she could fly. What was it about him that shot life into the shut-down places inside her, that awakened a hungry desire to reclaim her former happy self and soar? It wasn’t just handsome good looks. God knew she’d dated plenty of good-looking men and they’d never made her feel like Cody did. Entranced by his smile and lifted by the music, the movement, the lights twinkling in the trees, and the balmy evening breeze, she floated, allowing words and thoughts to melt away. She couldn’t deny it—she was completely captivated by the man dancing beside her.

He lifted his hand in a stopping motion. Maybe she was developing a hand fetish, but Cody had hands that she’d already imagined roaming every inch of her body. And she was imagining their touch again now.

“Hold on a minute.” He left her on the dance floor. Her eyes tracked his long strides to the stone wall nearby. He removed his jacket, then rolled up his sleeves as he returned to her side.

“Time to get serious,” he said with a laugh that slithered into her core.

Joy
. That’s what spoke to her. The man had a direct connection to joy, and she couldn’t resist following the trail with him. It didn’t hurt that he inspired fantasies of the most delicious, sensual sort.

“That
was
me being serious,” she said.

He ran his hands down her arms. “No, not you. Me. You’re serious enough.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but the look in his eyes made her want to drag him straight up to a guest room and find out just what the hands she was overly focused on could do.

Without warning, he spun and kicked out his legs in an almost comical version of what she imagined a cowboy dance must look like. But she didn’t miss the subtle movement of his torso, the controlled yet powerful ripple of muscle upon muscle visible even through his starched cotton shirt. Everything about Cody challenged her former idea of the perfect man. Nothing about him was like the cultured, reserved men she’d dated in Italy.

The crowd parted, making room. Scotty Donovan danced up close to them and thrust out his chest.

“Dance off!” several people in the crowd shouted.

The deejay ramped up the beat, and Zoe watched, amazed. If anyone had told her that two world-class, serious athletes could make the moves Cody and Scotty did, she would’ve laughed. But as she watched Cody, laughing was the last thing on her mind.

The song ended and the crowd applauded. The deejay cued a slow song she didn’t recognize, but the couples around her applauded again and snuggled close. Cody circled his fingers around her wrist.

“Hope you don’t mind a little sweat.” He tugged her into his arms and began to sway his hips against her.

I will not faint, I will not faint, I will not faint
, she repeated to herself as the heat and scent of his body thrilled into her. He ran his palm down the back of her gown, bringing it to rest in the curve of her back, and all she wanted was to fold into his arms for the night, for the week, maybe forever.

“I’m thinking it’d be fun to ride with you,” he whispered. The feel of his lips brushing against the tip of her ear sent rioting shivers into her. As did the prospect of riding with him. The prospect of doing most anything with him.

She tilted her head up; she’d have to stand on tiptoe to reach his ear, to be heard over the music, so she nodded her agreement. He smiled, tugged her close, and right then she knew her wiser self would’ve said no. Maybe she really had enjoyed too much champagne.

Abruptly the music stopped. Cody stepped away, a puzzled look on his face. The deejay announced over the sound system that the cake cutting and bouquet toss would take place in two minutes in the great hall.

“Duty calls,” Zoe said in a tone that she hoped wasn’t as breathy as it sounded to her. She motioned toward her gown. “Bridesmaid. I have to line up for the toss.”