Love of the Game Read online

  But she hadn’t been able to resist kissing him. What was that all about?

  The wine, she told herself.

  It was the fault of the wine. If she hadn’t been drunk on True Love wine …

  Shifting the blame. No. She was responsible for her actions. She drank the wine of her own accord. Her choice. Badly made.

  Time for another choice. A better one. A healthier one.

  Quit.

  Walk away.

  Some might say it was the cowardly way. After all, wouldn’t a brave woman stay and face her fears, her mistakes, and the repercussions? Face it head-on without hesitation.

  No choice. She had no choice. There was only one honorable solution, and Kasha had to take it.

  On Tuesday morning after his thrilling Memorial Day with Kasha, Axel woke feeling out of sorts.

  He’d slept like crap.

  Unable to get comfortable, his shoulder throbbing after the long day on the Jet Ski, and beleaguered by fevered fantasies of his sexy physical therapist, he’d spent a restless night alone in his big empty bed.

  In the drifting remnants of dreams, he savored Kasha’s lips again, sweet as the True Love wine they’d shared. She tasted of mysteries and moonbeams, magic and midnight murmurs.

  Dumb move.

  That kiss.

  She was his therapist and he needed her. Hadn’t really realized exactly how much he did need her until she’d shown up in his life with her willowy smiles and calm, quiet ways.

  He was hard-charging. Or at least he had been for most of his life. He understood what it took to make it to the top of the heap. Focus. Dedication. The refusal to quit no matter how hard things got or how bleak they looked. Pipe dreams were nothing but lofty goals acted upon, and if he knew nothing else, Axel knew how to take action.

  That same pragmatism told him he wasn’t a kid anymore, and that no matter how hard he battled to achieve the pinnacle of success, at his age, he might never make it to where he wanted to go.

  The Yankees.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to quit trying. This was his last shot. He knew that. He was thirty years old, with his best years on the diamond behind him. If he made a misstep now, it was all over.

  The thought of life after baseball sickened him. He felt as if a small, panicked animal was trapped in the basement of his soul, clawing and scratching mindlessly, desperate to escape.

  What would he do without baseball? Who would he be? It was all he’d ever known. It was the only thing that had brought him back after losing Dylan. How could he willingly leave it behind?

  He needed baseball. He wanted Kasha. Two different things.

  But she had his back. One hundred percent. She was a woman of integrity, and he understood she would always tell him the truth, painful or not.

  Which was why he’d listened to Kasha when everything inside him had been crying out for him to roll the dice, take the gamble, accept the odds, and go for the surgery.

  Yet, ever since her calm voice had cut through the bullshit bouncing around the physical therapy room that first day, his dream of playing for the Yankees had started to seem emptier and lonelier. And sometimes he couldn’t even remember what he was pursuing it for.

  Then he would think of Dylan, and his son’s cute boyish face and earnest eyes, and everything inside him rallied to one, singular goal, the goal that would make his son proud.

  Playing for the Yankees might be a long shot, but every fiber in Axel’s being pushed him forward, as if success was guaranteed. All he had to do was commit himself to the goal one hundred percent.

  He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. Failure was not an option.

  But Kasha held the key. His future hinged on the fulcrum of the dark-haired, exotic-looking beauty.

  She intrigued him.

  From the moment he laid eyes on Kasha, her almond eyes calm and unreadable as she stared at him, he’d been captive. He’d been bare-chested and cocky and she’d been the only woman in a roomful of managers and coaches and doctors in an MLB therapy room. He’d immediately wanted to know who this goddess was and why she was there. And the more interaction he had with her, the more she fascinated him.

  How was she this morning? he fretted.

  Axel knew she was beating herself up about the kiss. And he feared she was on the verge of dumping him as a client. He didn’t blame her. He’d been out of line, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any pain.

  He pulled out his phone to text her. To say something light and breezy, just to let her know he was thinking of her, and that all was well between them. But he couldn’t think of the right words to type. How could he express on a phone screen what he was feeling when he was unsure of where her head was at?

  Or his, for that matter.

  No. He would wait until she got here. See her face-to-face.

  Resolved, he got up before dawn, went into the gym, and got down to work.

  Bundle of nerves.

  Kasha finally understood what that phrase meant. Muscles tight, heart beating erratically, she drove to the ranch at her usual time on Tuesday morning. Stomach heavy with the news she needed to deliver.

  Axel answered the front door in paint-stained gray gym shorts, a white T-shirt, and a weekend’s growth of beard. He looked utterly delicious.

  “Mornin’.” He gave an irresistible smile.

  She pressed her lips together. Resist! Resist!

  “Okay.” He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and stepped aside to let her enter.

  The air between them throbbed with tension as she moved past him. Once in the living room, she stopped and turned to face him, her heart thundering so loudly she could barely think. “We need to talk.”

  “Here?” An uneasy darkness settled into the hollows of his cheeks.

  “The Creedys are back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go into the gym,” she said, wanting a place where they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Sure, sure.” He bobbed his head, and led the way.

  Kasha couldn’t help watching the way his hard-muscled rump moved beneath those shirts. For crying out loud, stop it!

  Inside the gym, she saw the easel was set up underneath the skylight, facing away from the entryway so that all she could see was the back of the canvas. A plethora of paints were arranged on a small table next to the easel.

  Eager for a peek at how much progress he’d made, Kasha rounded the easel.

  She took one look at the canvas, startled, and caught her breath. “It’s me. You’re painting me.”

  He smiled a sunbeam smile. Nodded.

  She exhaled sharply, stunned by the grab bag of emotions surging through her. “I can’t believe you’re painting me.”

  There was her face floating on the canvas. She was standing on a boat dock, gazing out across Stardust Lake, a light shawl fluttering around her shoulders, a dozen Mason jar lanterns strewn across the boards behind her. She looked calm, serene, queenly …

  And untouchable.

  Her muscles jerked.

  Was this how Axel really saw her? Impervious. Aloof. Self-contained. A sense of isolation pulsed through her, strange and yet all too familiar.

  “Why can’t you believe it?” he said huskily. “You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m not the kind of woman men paint portraits of.”

  “Pardon my French, Sphinx, but I call bullshit. You’re flipping gorgeous.”

  “It was not always easy growing up a mixed-race girl in a white-bread world.” She waved a hand, signifying Stardust at large. “But luckily times are changing. There were many times I was made to feel ugly.”

  “People often feel threatened by things that are different. It reflects their ignorance, not your reality.”

  If she were the kind of woman who blushed, Kasha’s cheeks would be heating, but she wasn’t, so her cheeks did not burn, but she felt light, airy, and happier than she’d felt since … well … she couldn’t remember ever feeli
ng quite this happy, and it was all because of Axel.

  He gave her laughter and levity and playfulness. He’d awakened her from a sleep she hadn’t even known she’d been in. He surprised her and delighted her, and every time he smiled at her, she was enchanted. He accepted Emma without reservations, treated her kindly, patiently. He’d gotten under Kasha’s skin and in her blood, and she needed him far more than she wanted to admit.

  She wanted to let down her guard, let him in, give him the passion she’d been saving up for years, but she didn’t dare. Couldn’t. Not with so much at stake.

  “I … I … It’s not. I’m not …” She struggled to find the words to express all the emotions pushing at the seams of her heart.

  “What?” he prompted.

  “I didn’t expect this.” Weakly, she flapped her wrist at the painting.

  “Here’s the question. Do you …” He paused, swallowing so forcefully his Adam’s apple pumped. “… like it?”

  “I do,” she murmured. “I like it very much, but in it I seem so …” She put an index finger to her chin, tilted her head. “… faraway.”

  “You often have that exact look on your face,” he said. “As if you’re keeping an unknowable secret.”

  The way he’d captured her was unsettling, and far too eerily accurate. It was as if he could see straight into her, and recognized the dark corners of her soul, and liked her all the more because of them.

  Forget about the painting. You can’t get sucked in. Say what you came here to say.

  Kasha inhaled audibly, steadying herself. “I’m going to call Dr. Harrison and tender my resignation. Effective immediately.”

  “What?” His jaw dropped and his eyes rounded, and he looked … betrayed.

  “I’m quitting.” She said it as gently and kindly as she could.

  “No.” His chin hardened.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re jumping ship midway through my recovery?” Axel stepped closer. The harsh undercurrent in his tone matched the furrow between his eyebrows.

  “It’s for the best.” She fiddled with her college ring on the third finger of her right hand, rotating it around and around.

  “Why?”

  Kasha tucked her chin in, pulled her shoulders downward, but kept them razor-straight like she did in yoga class, anchoring herself inside her body, pulling everything in to keep her mind from flying away at the sight of his hot, fiery eyes. “You know why.”

  He glared, hard-edged, accusatory, but she refused to flinch against the blade of his gaze.

  “Because of last night.” His voice deepened. “Because of the kiss.”

  “Yes.”

  “It was just a kiss.”

  “You know it wasn’t.”

  “We’ve got chemistry yes,” he admitted. “But we don’t have to act on it.”

  “You … we … already did.”

  “How about this? Let’s forget the kiss even happened. Put it behind us.”

  “We can’t, and you know it. We’ll kiss again and kissing will lead to …” She glanced away, unable to bear the brunt of his scrutiny. “Other things. I can’t betray myself like that. I can’t and I won’t.”

  “What about Emma?” he asked. “Won’t being unemployed make it harder for you to get custody?”

  “I’ll get another job. They haven’t replaced me at my old position. My parents have already offered to help out anyway they can with Emma. I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  “Me?” He looked first startled and then his lips plucked upward. “Why are you worried about me?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll slip back into your old ways. Stop relaxing. Forget about your art.” She nodded at the painting. “Push yourself past the point of no return, or give in and agree to the surgery in a desperate bid to get back on the mound.”

  “If you’re so concerned, then stay.” His eyes were magnets, pulling her in. “We can work this out.”

  “We can’t. I can’t.”

  They stared at each other for a long time, neither moving nor speaking.

  Finally, she moved to the back door, rested her hand on the knob. “I have to go.”

  Curtly, he nodded.

  And didn’t try to stop her as she fled.

  CHAPTER 20

  Axel didn’t stop Kasha because his mental wheels were churning. If she left the Gunslingers there was nothing standing in the way of them hooking up. While he hated losing her as his therapist, there was nothing stopping him from hitting a home run.

  The red-hot dreams he’d been struggling to suppress came roaring to life, and his body got hard just thinking about her.

  She had baggage, sure as shit, but he was the guy to help her unpack. He had a few stuffed bags of his own, and she didn’t seem put off.

  What about the Yankees? What about your big plans?

  If he got what he wanted, he’d be living in New York. And Kasha was anchored to her family, and this town. He couldn’t very well expect her to rearrange her entire life for him.

  C’mon, Richmond. Honestly? What were the odds that he’d make it to the Yankees? Probably a little better than a million-to-one, but not much. Was he going to let that remote possibility stop him from pursuing the woman he wanted?

  He thought of Kasha—the taste of those honeyed lips, the smell of her earthy scent, the feel of her smooth latte skin.

  No. No, he was not.

  He wanted her. Needed her. Had to have her.

  Problem was, how to convince Kasha to give their relationship a chance?

  After Kasha left the ranch, she called Dr. Harrison, and he accepted Kasha’s resignation without trying to talk her out of it. Which was both a relief and a kick to the ego.

  Dr. Harrison told her he would call Axel and arrange for him to return to Dallas. Paul Hernandez would assume his former role as Axel’s therapist. And the front office would mail Kasha her final check.

  All was well in Gunslingers world.

  After that, she went to see her old boss, Linda Smothers, at Stardust General Hospital, and asked for her job back as head of physical therapy.

  “Oh thank heavens,” Linda said. “I’ve been beating the bushes for someone to replace you, and we couldn’t find a single applicant with your skill set. Yes, yes, please come back. I convinced management they’d have to bump the salary in order to get someone with your qualifications, so you’re in for a 5K a year raise.”

  It wasn’t even in the ballpark of her salary with the Gunslingers, but it was something, and Kasha readily accepted without negotiating. She needed a job if she was going to petition the court for custody of Emma.

  Speaking of Emma, she also called Molly Banks and arranged for Emma to spend the night with her on Friday. Hopefully this stab at a sleepover would take.

  Then she had time to kill.

  On Wednesday, she hung out at Timeless Treasures chatting with her parents about Emma and making plans, and then dropped by Jodi’s B&B to see how things were going with her pregnancy.

  By four o’clock that afternoon she’d run out of ways to occupy herself, and she started thinking about Axel again, and that stirred up a firestorm of emotions.

  Stop it. Clear your mind.

  Yoga.

  But not home alone. She needed to be around other people. She’d go to the yoga studio. Stretch him out of her mind.

  But when Kasha walked into the studio she found Axel already there, signing up for the five p.m. class.

  She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Seriously?

  “Shouldn’t you be in Dallas?”

  “I told them I needed a couple of days to pack.”

  “So what are you doing here? Why aren’t you packing?”

  “Somebody once told me to try a yoga class,” he said. “So I thought I might.”

  “Okay,” she said, ignoring the thump of her pulse. She turned for the door. “Have a good workout.”

  “You’re not staying?”

  “I forgot I hav
e some things to do.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

  “You’re letting me run you off.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then do your errands later.” His gaze both cajoled and challenged, daring her to stay.

  “Kasha,” called the instructor from the doorway of the classroom. “We haven’t seen you in a while. Come on in.”

  Because of the long hours created by her drive to Dallas, she hadn’t been to the studio much since she’d started working for the Gunslingers.

  “Yes.” Axel grinned. “Come on in.”

  Fine. She wasn’t going to let him get under her skin. Ignoring him as best she could, Kasha went into the classroom, staked out her usual spot, and unfurled her mat.

  A few minutes later, she hung in a Forward Fold, her hands cradling her elbows, her head and shoulder loose in Ragdoll Pose, trying to tame her stampeding pulse and stop thinking about Axel, who was on the yoga mat in front of her.

  She wasn’t going to look at his butt, no, not she. Her eyes were staying tightly closed.

  Not a peek. Not a glimmer.

  Kasha turned her head, and from her upside-down position, cracked open one eye.

  Hot damn, but the man had an amazing ass!

  Both eyes popped open wide.

  Fudge. This so was not her. She was proud of her self-control. But dammit, once opened, her eyes refused to close.

  “Sweep upward,” said the instructor.

  Through the material of his cotton T-shirt, Kasha could see Axel’s taut ass muscles flex and move. She was so glad that he was in front of her and not vice versa. Although it would be even better if he weren’t here at all, invading her sanctuary.

  Better still if she could stop scoping out his hard body, and noticing how he was built, and thinking about that night at the lake. And remembering just how good he tasted.

  “And swan dive down,” guided the instructor.

  “How am I doing?” Axel whispered to Kasha from between his legs.

  “Shh.”

  “I caught you checking me out. My form okay?”

  “Your form is fine. Your mouth, however, moves way too much,” she whispered back.

  “Wanna go for coffee after this?”