Getting Wound Up: A Sapphire Falls/ Love Between the Bases Novel-- PART ONE (4 page)

As long as he didn’t think too much about Caitlyn over there naked, her nightclothes in a little pile by her bed, just like his. It was kind of funny, if you thought about it.

Smiling, he drifted off.

In the middle of the night, the urge to visit the bathroom dragged him from a deep sleep. Blinking in the darkness, he stumbled out of bed. Still mostly asleep, he made his way across the room toward the bathroom. He yawned hugely, reaching for the door…

Only to find his arms full of warm, naked flesh. Female flesh.

Arousal ripped through him, and he dragged the tempting armful closer against his chest. He buried his nose in soft hair, ran his hands down curves that cried out to be touched.

His cock rose again, twice as hard as before. The woman in his arms trembled, pressed her hips against him. Nipples perked through her thin top, scraping against his chest, and oh my God, she wore the tiniest scrap of nothing in the way of panties. He could rip those things off her with one flick of his thumb. He could pin her against the wall and pull those fine legs around his hips and drive his cock into her—

A soft inhale broke the fantasy.

Horror rushing through him, he dropped the woman back to the floor.

No, not “the woman.”
Caitlyn
. He’d nearly taken Caitlyn Murray up against a wall in a random hotel room in Kansas City. Even now, his erection was nestled against her, as if that part of his body refused to let her go.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, placing her firmly at arm’s length.

“It’s…it’s okay.” She sounded awfully breathless. “I should have turned the light on, but I didn’t want to wake you, and…it was my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, but that’s no excuse for me mauling you in the middle of the night. I was half asleep and didn’t exactly…ah hell, that sounds even worse. I’m really sorry, Caitlyn. It won’t happen again. Do you trust me?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and he wished to God he could see her face. Just how angry was she?

“Go to sleep, Eli.” It was hard to miss the irritation in her voice. Well, that answered that. She was plenty angry. When he got back to Sapphire Falls, Bryan and Ty would probably beat his ass. And he’d deserve it. Not even a full night had passed in Caitlyn’s company and he’d lost his mind.

For a wild, dreamy moment, Caitlyn had thought all her secret fantasies were about to come true. Wrapped in Eli’s arms, his firm muscles surrounding her, the scent of his skin had gone right to her head. Hot desire had swept through her entire body. She’d wanted to lick his chest, kiss her way down his body, drop to her knees and lick his hard length. It had felt like every crazy daydream, every nighttime craving rolled into one.

Instead, here she was, even further from what she wanted. Now he
felt bad
, as if he’d accidentally forced something on her that she didn’t want. How could she tell him that she’d loved every second, after he’d basically blamed his actions on being too asleep to know what he was doing?

Grrrr. She flopped into bed and pulled her pillow over her head. Now if she could just get her heart to stop its jumping jacks and her pulse to settle down, she could work on her game face for tomorrow.

Note to self for tomorrow:
say nothing. Pretend it never happened. Keep your cool. Just get him to that tryout.

As it happened, the next morning Eli’s extreme case of nerves made it easy to avoid referring to the half-naked incident. When Caitlyn got out of the shower, fully and carefully dressed, he’d already gone to the breakfast buffet and tanked up on coffee. He brought her a cup with plenty of creamers and sugar, as well as a plate of blueberry muffins. She poured creamer in her coffee while he paced around the room.

“Maybe you should go for a jog,” she suggested.

“Might pull a muscle,” he said tensely. “Or get lost.”

She laughed. “Did you eat anything?”

“Nope. Might throw up.”

“But you drank some coffee?”

“Little bit.” He drummed his fingers on his leg, which couldn’t seem to stay still. “You ready to go yet? I want to check out the stadium.”

“Eli.” She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. She felt the contours of his muscles under the jersey and got momentarily distracted. The power that lurked in his body was enough to make a girl weak in the knees. She forced the memory of last night out of her mind. “This is what you were meant to do. It’s going to be fine. Just believe in yourself. I believe in you.”

“You do?”

“One hundred percent, without a doubt. Now let’s go, before your head explodes.”

His reluctant laugh was balm to her soul. At least she could still make him laugh. At least she could still be his friend. Calm him down. Be there for him during such a key moment in his life. Maybe that one brush with nakedness hadn’t ruined everything.

She drove him to the nearby campus of the Kansas City Community College. The parking lot by the athletic field was already filled with cars. Young men in baseball uniforms of every variety were making their way toward the field, armed with gym bags and baseball gloves. She whistled at the sight.

“How many people come to these tryouts?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Eli tensely, staring out the window. “It’s not a competition.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope. It’s not like they’re going to pick the top ten or something. They only pick the guys they think have the potential to help the team. Some tryouts, no one gets a call. Most, actually.”

“Really? All these people and no one’s good enough for them?” Caitlyn pulled into a spot. “Can I watch?”

He shrugged. “It might get kind of boring. Usually the pitchers go last. Until I get to go, you’ll be watching a bunch of guys run the sixty-yard dash.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me.” Caitlyn gave him a cheeky wink as she hopped out of the Focus. “They’ll be wearing baseball pants, right?”

He glared at her. Ooh, had she made Eli just the tiniest bit jealous? Or was it just a general glare based on nerves and tension? She grinned to herself as he slammed her car door and slung his gym bag over his shoulder. He definitely looked even crabbier than he had before.

“I think the sign-up is that-away.” She pointed to a long folding table where a few men in warmup jackets were handing out index cards to the shifting line of baseball wannabes. “I’ll find a seat on the bleachers. I’ll be watching, so knock ’em dead.”

She gave him a wave as she headed across the parking lot.

“That’s it?” he called after her. “That’s all I get?”

Turning back, she saw him striding toward her, an intent focus in his gaze.

“The least you could do is give me a kiss for good luck.” He swept her into his arms and planted a kiss full on her mouth.

She tasted coffee and five-alarm heat. The shock of it vibrated all the way to her toes. She didn’t even get a chance to really kiss him back before he plopped her back down on the pavement.

His blue eyes gleaming, he spun around and headed for the sign-up line.

She pressed her lips together, still tasting the warm force of his mouth. Why had he done that? Just to mess with her? Keep her from ogling hot outfielders?

As soon as she’d caught her breath and found a seat in the bleachers, she extracted her cell phone and fired off a text.

Seriously? You call that a kiss?
Your moves need work
,
big shot.

She saw the exact moment when he got the text. He clutched his chest as if she’d shot him, and pretended to nearly fall to his knees. Then he texted back.

Challenge accepted
.

* * *

Thank God for Caitlyn. Her light teasing relaxed Eli enough so he could focus on the tryout. He couldn’t think about why he’d decided to kiss her, or how her lips had felt in that brief, scorching moment. He definitely couldn’t dwell on her critique of his “moves.” This was one of the biggest moments in his life. So he shoved all thoughts of her out of his mind and concentrated on the drills taking place on the field.

After he signed in and got his card—he was officially number 52 until the end of the tryout—he stood around with the other pitching candidates along the sidelines. It was a hot, sultry day, with an achingly blue sky and no breeze whatsoever. But you’d never know it from the way the players ran and jumped and dove for grounders. Some of them were so young and energetic; it made him want to cry. But a few were his age or even older.

The first drill was a sixty-yard dash. Everyone ran two sprints, and anyone who took longer than seven seconds was sent home.

Eli watched the first cut leave with deep sympathy. Imagine coming all that way and not making it past the first test. Good thing he was a pitcher, because he hadn’t been practicing his sprints at all. Even so, he was almost tempted to see if he’d make the cut, if just to show off in front of Caitlyn.

Don’t go there, idiot
. Stay focused.

After the sprinting, the outfielders got their turn. They each fielded five balls—a mix of fly balls and grounders—and then threw to home base. Many of them fired off some real rockets, others fell short. Eli spotted a radar gun trained on the harder-throwing guys. Excitement clenched his gut. That same radar gun would be timing his speed when his turn came.

When the outfielders were done, it was time for the infielders and a rapid-fire sequence of grounders down the line of prospects. It was fun to watch, though the skill level was all over the place. Eli realized he had no need to worry about making a fool of himself. He could out-field some of these guys with his arm in a cast.

Then again, he reminded himself, it wasn’t a competition. The only thing that mattered was his turn on the mound. Of all the pitches he’d delivered in his life, these would be the only ones that mattered.

After the fielding and catching drills came batting practice. Again, only a certain number were called to stay for that; the rest went home. Eli felt the tension rise, especially among the pitchers. Their turn was coming. Finally, halfway through batting practice, a scout came over and told them how their bullpen sessions would work.

“We’ll take you one by one, in order of your number, so pay attention to when you’re up. Miss your number, you’re out. Make sure you’re nice and loose, ’cause you get about fifteen pitches once you’re on the mound. Get a catcher to help you warm up, or catch for each other, whatever works. When you’re on the mound, pitch what the scout calls for. He’s looking for certain things, so don’t get cute. Just do what he says. You got ten minutes before we call the first guy.” He wheeled away, clipboard in hand.

Hell
. They didn’t even get to call their own pitches. That sucked for Eli, because while he had a strong fastball and a decent curve, his knuckleball really set him apart. Would he even get to throw it?

Trying not to be discouraged, Eli caught the eye of one of the catchers, who nodded back. They set up on the sidelines and played a little catch, nice and easy. Eli didn’t watch the other pitchers, instead focusing on the ball, the glove, his shoulder, his mechanics, letting his body get warm and loose. The only time he got distracted was when he caught a glimpse of the scout with the radar gun taking a water break.

And talking to Caitlyn, who had moved down to the front row.

In her jeans and pink top, a baseball cap holding back her ponytail, she looked cute as a kitten, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed. The scout seemed to be showing her how the radar gun worked while she smiled admiringly.

Only Caitlyn, thought Eli. Only Caitlyn could waltz into a baseball tryout and have a scout eating out of her hand. She hadn’t even brought any of her candy—it was her sheer sweetness and charm that did it.

Well, screw the knuckleball. He could make it without that one pitch. He’d have to pitch his heart out, that was all.

When they called number 52, he was ready, although his heart felt as if it might take a swan dive right into the dirt. He strolled onto the mound, using the short walk to calm his breathing. He settled into place, kicking the dirt the way he liked it. The catcher threw him the ball, and he looked to the side, to the scout. Beyond him, he saw Caitlyn perched on the very edge of the bench, looking extremely nervous. Her hands were gripped together, her gaze fixed on him, her body taut.

She was nervous. For him. The sweetness of that thought made a sense of calm settle over him. Calm and protectiveness. All he wanted to do now was make Caitlyn feel better. To do that…well, he had the power right there in his hands. A baseball.

He could do anything with that baseball. Write his own future. Change his world. Make Caitlyn happy.

The scout gave the sign for a fastball. Done. Eli went into his windup and reared back, putting every bit of his tension and desire and power into that pitch.

Wham.
It hit the glove perfectly, even causing the catcher to flinch a tiny bit.

Two more fastballs, then some breaking balls, then more fastballs. A changeup. Eli threw on command, whatever the scout called, giving it his all. He lost count of the pitches—it didn’t matter anyway. They all had to be his best. And they were. The only question was, would his best be good enough?

The head scout conferred with the other scout, the one with the radar gun. From the expression on his face, Eli guessed that he hadn’t set any records with his speed. No big surprise there. His fastball was strong but not exactly world-class. His stomach sank. There it went, his dream, floating away like infield dust in a wind gust.