Clutch Hit, Faith O'Shea [read along books TXT] 📗

She’d flown down to Rio when he was ready to travel, played the loving wife as they passed through the passport checkpoints, stuck close at the gate, and sat with him during the flight east. On landing, she handed him back over to Keith and she’d gone right home, not giving him a backward glance.

That wasn’t exactly true. She’d peeked. The jolt that had hit her when she met his staring eyes created a tremor she hadn’t been able to control. What the hell was it about him that made her heart mush? There was even a moment when she was saying the vows, in Spanish, that had planted a seed that had taken root. She didn’t know him, couldn’t love him, didn’t even know whether she liked him. But she’d sworn to love and cherish him for all the days of her life.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she now had to take his hand and lead him through the land of plenty.

She buttoned her coat against the winter chill as she walked toward her car. January hadn’t dumped its usual amount of snow on the town, but the cold had been arctic over the last couple of days. She refused to wonder if Mateo was getting used to the frigid temps. Coming from an island in the Caribbean, he was used to sunny days and balmy nights.

She refused to wonder anything about him at all.

Then why does he crop up from out of the blue a hundred times a day?

She refused to admit that, too.

What she couldn’t refuse to do was call him and let him know she was coming. She’d programmed his number into her list of contacts as soon as he’d gotten a phone, just like she did with all her players. No big deal.

Yeah, sure. No big deal. Then why is your heart drumming some crazy erratic beats?

She took a breath and scrolled for the cell number and let her Bluetooth take over.

He answered on the third ring.

“Hello, Alicia.”

His voice was deep, and it vibrated through her. The shiver had nothing to do with the baritone.

She cleared her throat of any longing.

“Hi. Where are you?”

“In my hotel room. There is no practice today and I am alone.”

She wished she could leave it at that, but she couldn’t. She had her marching orders and she wanted it done and behind her.

“I have the keys to your new place and I’m on my way to pick you up to take you there.”

“Now?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not the move, no. But it will do nothing to appease the loneliness.”

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be staying with you for a short interval of time.”

She was told to stay until spring training, or even longer. She wasn’t sure she could. There was something dangerous about the man who she was now legally bound to. Maybe she’d been a little too quick to deny them a romp between the sheets. She had a feeling he’d be as good there as he was at the plate. She’d learned quickly that Mateo was one of the premier players on the Cuban national team, clutch hitter when it counted, and an arm with bullet accuracy. He’d been a coup for the Greenliners, had already been given a thumbs-up by the infield coach, and she knew he’d attract swarms of women.

There was a prickle in her gut, which she didn’t appreciate. He might legally be her husband but she had no claim on him. It had been a marriage of convenience, would be over as soon as she could manage it.

“Then that is all right. When should I expect you?”

“I’ve just got to pick up some things before I head over.”

“I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.”

When she swiped to end the call, she pressed her lips together in resignation. This would be her life for the foreseeable future, so she’d better dig deep for some control over her emotions. Listening to the hard-rocking beat of one of her favorite bands on the way over helped shift her mood. When she arrived at the hotel, she found him waiting in the lobby, just as he’d said he’d be, his new suitcase beside him. It probably contained everything he had in the world.

When he looked up at her, there was the barest hint of a smile and an unfamiliar thud in her chest.

Mateo’s breath caught as soon as Alicia walked into the lobby. In Mexico he’d only seen her in sundresses and shorts, bare feet, sandals, sun-kissed and casual. Now she looked the professional, stunning in her suit and heels. Her hair was swept off her face in a top knot, except for the strands that fell over her forehead, and she was brushing them back, as she’d done numerous times in Mexico. He still couldn’t believe she’d done what she’d done or that he’d agreed to it. He was not a casual dater, never had any interest in pursuing several women at a time like most of his teammates. He had thought about marriage some day in the future, with a woman he had a deep connection with, that held nights of romance and candlelight and reckless longing. He’d never imagined his vows would be spoken in an office in Mexico with strangers officiating, to a woman he’d known for less than a week. She’d told him explicitly the service was nothing more than a practical move to see him to Boston. He knew the truth of that when she’d left as soon as his agent arrived. She’d been all business. The kiss she’d given him at the altar should not have knocked the breath out of him, but it had. He could still feel the tingles of her soft lips pressed to his in the briefest of touches.

As she came closer, he could smell the fruity, floral, and musky scent that had intrigued him from the moment she’d sat down beside him in Cancun. He had no idea what it was, but it