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Chapter Eight
The ride backto Last Stand had been tense. Cal had dodged repeated calls from his father and a handful of media outlets, but he’d felt compelled to respond when his agent phoned. Not that he wanted to discuss his stalled career, but he’d ignored enough of his agent’s calls in the rough weeks after he was designated for assignment. He owed the guy an explanation for how he’d ended up in front of the camera at a minor league park. Dex had assured him he would keep an ear out for any media mentions, and that conversation had helped Cal’s mood turn a corner.
No thanks to his dad.
Now, Cal pulled into the gravel road between the farmhouse and the two-story garage where he’d been spending his nights. He’d had high hopes for this night with Josie, but she’d seemed as rattled by the media sneak attack as him, turning quiet on the ride home. That upset him more than anything else about his father’s tactics to keep Cal in the spotlight. Because more than anything, Cal wanted to end this night with Josie. To pick up where that kiss had left off back at the stadium.
“Are you okay?” he asked, parking the vehicle and shutting down the engine. “I know we didn’t have the best end to the evening.”
It had taken him the first half of the trip home just to get a handle on the anger he felt toward his father. Because it was one thing to offer unsolicited career advice or trash-talk his sons’ talents. Those things were par for the course with Dad. But to shine the media spotlight on Cal at the lowest point in his career was just wrong, even for him. And that didn’t even begin to address his frustration for Josie’s sake. He’d wanted her to have fun tonight, not spend the evening dodging interviews.
“I’m fine. Getting cornered by the cameras was just surprising.” She met his gaze across the front seat of his car. “Is that common for you?”
“No.” He shook his head before opening the driver’s side door and coming around to help her out of the vehicle. He might have been distracted most of the way home, but he could salvage some semblance of manners now. “Even after one of my own games, I wouldn’t be on camera unless I had a significant impact on the game.”
Which last year—when he’d been hitting well—had been a surprising number of times. Remembering about how quick the team was to release him this year in spite of that, he felt a fresh wave of frustration as he walked Josie to the front door. How differently this night might have ended if he could have avoided the journalists.
“Do you know who was filming?” She unlocked the front door and let the dogs out, standing aside as the three of them raced past in a chorus of happy barks. The littlest one did a bonus dance around their feet before running to catch up with the others. “Was it just the in-house camera crew that takes footage of all the games?”
“No.” He guessed she meant the cameras that picked up the closed-circuit coverage of each game. “The interviewer who passed the microphone our way is with the regional sports network that covers all of the Texas teams.”
She tucked her keys back into the fabric bag she carried, then set the sack just inside the open door to the house while they waited for the dogs to return. At least, he assumed that’s what she was waiting for. If there was any chance they could salvage this night together, he planned to be here to see it through. Hell, a night with her could smooth over all the rough edges of this day, allowing him to forget everything but the pleasure of her touch.
Her kiss.
Memories of it roared back to life with a vengeance as he watched her in the moonlight. A breeze made the night temperature bearable, the air wafting the scent of peaches from one of the fruit trees on the far side of the garden.
“But since you didn’t answer their questions, the clip is unlikely to be broadcast anywhere, right?” She gave an awkward shrug, the movement sliding her T-shirt along her curves. “Just curious how many people will see my ungainly stumble down the stadium stairs.”
“Most likely no one,” he assured her, not sure how to read her body language. She seemed nervous, and that bothered him. Was it because of him? Or was she worried about the possibility of being on camera? “I’m hardly a news story these days, especially around here.”
It would be one thing if any teams had approached his agent about him, but if no one had any interest in acquiring him, he was truly out of the game for good. He still hadn’t wrapped his head around what that meant. Because—family drama about the sport aside—Cal loved baseball.
“So why would they have put the camera on you in the first place?” She folded her arms and peered up at him, eyes searching him.
What answers was she looking for? What was holding her back from acting on the attraction they’d talked of exploring?
He wasn’t sure of anything except that he would give her whatever she wanted if that meant they could end this hellish night in bed together.
“My father’s a Texas baseball legend and he’s been the Ramsey family’s P.R. machine since we were in high school. For all his faults, he’s very well liked by the media.” There had been a time—long ago—when Cal had appreciated that. Back before criticism became his dad’s main form of communication. Before Clint had betrayed Cal’s mom. “There aren’t many fathers who’ve raised multiple sons to play in the league. So that’s an easy angle for him to tout whenever he wants to stir up some press.”
She nodded as she seemed to think it over, but there was a nervous tic beneath one eye, so subtle he might have missed it if he hadn’t carved a spot for himself in the majors by being damned good at reading body language. Pitchers worked hard to be unreadable, but most of them had their tells in the way they held their bodies or where their eyes went before a pitch came barreling down the strike zone.
“And while I’m damn sorry that you were caught in that drama tonight, I’d like nothing better than to forget about it.” He didn’t want to think about his career going down in flames, and all the questions that raised. He wanted to touch her. To kiss her again and lose himself in the taste and feel of her.
But he had meant it when he said the next move was hers, so he fisted his hands at his sides and waited.
“I understand. But I have just one more question about what happened tonight.” She nibbled her lip in a gesture that captivated him, his gaze fixed on the movement, heat rushing up his spine.
Hunger for her twisted painfully.
“One question,” he agreed, the air between them thickening with awareness.
“You made a compelling argument for an affair earlier.” She twirled the end of her braid around one finger. “I wondered if you could refresh my memory before I make up my mind?”
He couldn’t remember ever being so grateful for a change of subject. More importantly, he couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as much as he wanted Josie right now. Whatever nervousness he’d thought he’d been seeing in her before, it didn’t have anything to do with him or the chemistry between them.
“You’re asking for a recap?” He told himself not to rush, even though he wanted to kiss her into the house and straight to the closest bed.
