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He took his eyes off the road to glance at her. “Then it’s lucky I’m not in the market for one.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute, but didn’t respond. Then they started talking about fairs and festivals they’d attended as children, and as always, he drew her into the conversation. Soon she was laughing at humorous stories and sharing nostalgic memories of her own. In an eyeblink, half an hour had passed, and they arrived at the park.
Jason was mobbed the second he got out of the car. Excited fans and gleeful children hopped, skipped and ran to him, taking pictures, tossing balls and asking for hugs. He autographed every single baseball with a bright smile, made jokes and gave countless high fives. She’d been wrong about one thing, however. Judging by the number of women fawning over him and their lack of rings, plenty of single women were here to see him. But he didn’t pay them any more than polite attention. Instead, he kept his eyes on her, making sure she was still near him. Would he come after her if she snuck away?
The commotion around Jason was typical, yet she hadn’t expected her own. While she’d gotten little attention as the Dragon’s Image Manager and even as the owner’s niece, Jason Sterling’s supposed girlfriend was an entirely different beast altogether. Everywhere they traveled, people stared, pointed, grinned. The words “girlfriend,” “dating” and “lucky” emerged upwards of 3,233,563 times, usually accompanied by sly smiles or pained grimaces, depending on the bearer. Everyone wanted to know the woman who stole the famed catcher’s heart. Of course, she hadn’t actually performed such a feat.
Yet had he stolen hers?
It was a question she wouldn’t ask, as Jason led her to center stage, where most of the team already waited. Pat said a few words, as did some of the players, but not Jason. For him, it was about doing good, not the attention.
After the meeting, the players and fans broke into groups for various events. She accompanied Jason to the tug of war, set in a huge grassy field with a thick twine rope. They sorted the kids and officiated as they played round after round. Jason was just supposed to watch, but halfway through he called for attention. “Would anyone mind if I joined?”
The kids jumped up and down. Chants of “pick our team” rang through the air.
“Actually, how about I form my own team?” He winked as the children roared in approval. The kids lined up on one side, their little hands gripping the rope tightly as Jason sauntered to the other side. He made a big deal of hefting the rope up, eliciting hearty laughter from kids and adults alike.
With the official’s whistle, everyone started pulling. The children dug their heels in, screaming and shouting and yanking as much as their little arms allowed. They were small, but there were a lot of them. Jason gripped the rope, muscles bulging as he pulled. For a few moments, the teams stayed in roughly the same place, but Jason was obviously holding back. Dara turned to the two other team employees there. “Want to jump in?”
With matching grins, the two women bobbed their heads. They raced to the kids’ side, grabbed the rope and pulled.
Jason locked eyes with Dara. With the addition of the three adults, the game suddenly became competitive. The muscular catcher’s biceps bulged as everyone grunted with exertion. Still, the rope stayed stagnant – even with the addition of the three adults, he could still overpower them.
He was that strong.
But he was also kind, she realized, when he started to give in a moment later. It was a measured forfeit, for the benefit of the children. He made a big show of pulling as hard as he could, but iron control lurked behind his struggles. A moment later the kids pulled the rope beyond the goal. Jason gave a fake moan as the winners jumped up and down in excitement.
Something warm and powerful captured her, as Jason wrapped his arms around her and gave her a congratulatory hug. The elite athlete’s physical prowess was impressive, but his kindness – now that was stunning.
He entertained the kids through the next event, a series of silly relay races, and then during the hitting clinics and catching practice. She assumed his physical stature and success drove his popularity, but it was nothing compared to his charm. No wonder he was the most sought after bachelor in baseball. By the dozens of women who watched his every move, she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Finally, it was time for the carnival games. They strolled side by side over the grassy path, next to colorful clowns on stilts and rainbow tents selling everything from cotton candy to fried doughnuts to funnel cakes. Jason studied the schedule. “I’m supposed to go to booth 36, but no one said what it was.” He turned to her. “Do you know?”
Yes, she did. She’d arranged the event a while ago, after he’d acted particularly domineering one day. It seemed like a good idea at the time, now she wasn’t so sure. “I do.”
He narrowed his eyes at her vague reply. “What is booth 36?”
“A game.”
“What type of game? Am I going to be running it?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Dara managed not to smile, laugh or stick out her tongue. “Let’s just say you’re the guest of honor.”
His voice turned low, dangerous. “Am I going to have to retaliate for this?”
Oh yeah. “Don’t be silly. All in good fun, remember?”
They came to booth 30, and Jason looked into the distance, counting the games. It was obvious the moment he spotted the right one. First a furrow between his brows, then widened eyes, then pure determination. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely getting you back.”
He said it softly, almost as an endearment, and heat emboldened her. She lifted onto her tiptoes, which only brought her to the top of his chest. “Am I supposed to be afraid?”
“I would be,” he drawled in a rumble that heated her blood. “I never walk away from a challenge.”
She repressed a shiver of excitement. She couldn’t wait.
They arrived at the booth, where a large tank of water sat under a rickety looking bench. There was a huge bull’s eye target and a sign that read, “Hit the target to dunk All-Star catcher Jason Sterling!”
“You even had the sign professionally printed.” He hung his head. “How long have you been planning this?”
