Baseball and Other Lessons (Devil's Ranch Book 2) (4 page)

And wasn’t that just the hell of it? She wasn’t even really his type. His usual flavor of blonde hair, blue eyes and big boobs was a bit clichéd, just as his tendency towards short relationships with women who’s IQs weren’t on the high side was his way of avoiding any sort of real emotional intimacy. He liked women. He liked sex. And maybe someday—when he could no longer step out onto that mound every five days—he would get serious about meeting The One and settle down.

Until then, he was fine with the status quo.

Which made his attraction to Jenn damned unfortunate and just a little surprising. Sure, at six-four he tended to gravitate towards taller women, and Jenn was definitely that, since the top of her head almost came to his chin. But where he usually preferred blonde hair and well-defined curves, Jenn was all crazy auburn curls and subtle curves. Not to mention the fact that her IQ was most definitely not on the lower side of the scale.

Realizing he’d been staring at her for a while, he smiled and handed her back her phone. “How long ago did they leave?”

Jenn blinked, her green eyes staring back at him, and asked, “Did who leave?”

Yeah, she felt whatever this was, too.

“Jo and Chase? How long ago did they leave?”

She checked the time on her phone. “About thirty minutes ago maybe? Why?”

“I’m ready to get out of here, and you look like you are, too. But I don’t want to go back to Chase’s place just yet—I have no desire to walk in on my little brother getting it on.”

“I did not need that mental image.”

“I don’t need the actual image.”

She sighed. “So then what are you proposing, Matt? I’m sure as hell not letting you walk me to my door again.”

“I wasn’t offering.”

Her eyes flashed with irritation and something else that he couldn’t quite name, and he bit back a smile as she said, “Good. Because my answer’s no.”

“Jesus you’re prickly.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

“Oh, I remember.”

Even in the dim lights of the bar he could see her blush.

“You’re such an ass.”

He shrugged, and out of the corner of his eye happened to see the three jersey chasers from earlier making their way towards the dark corner he and Jenn currently occupied. He grabbed Jenn’s hand and pulled her out of her seat. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She dug in her heels and pulled back. He wasn’t surprised by her action, but he was surprised at her strength. “You can’t just drag me around, Matt.”

He turned towards her and leaned close, his mouth millimeters from her ear, and said, “Those three jersey chasers are about four feet away from us. I have no desire to cause a scene, and frankly I’m too tired and my head hurts too much to deal with them right now.”

“Fine,” she grumbled as she walked out with him. She led him to a blue Ford Edge—not the kind of car he’d pictured a single woman in her early thirties driving—the lights flashing as she pressed a button on the key fob in her hand.

They climbed in, and Matt looked back to the entrance of the bar. He breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t followed him.

Jenn started the small SUV before asking, “Do you know if Owen drove himself, or if he needs a DD?”

“I’m pretty sure he drove himself—he got here after Chase and I did—and he’s only had a couple of beers so he should be fine.”

Jenn nodded and backed out of the parking space. “So you don’t want to go back to Chase’s just yet. You’re sure as hell not going back to my place. And I don’t think we can spend more than ten minutes alone in this car without me wanting to kill you. So what did you have in mind?”

He bit back the response that came to mind first—she would probably kick him out if he didn’t—and said instead, “How about Whataburger? I could go for some taquitos right about now.”

#

Without a word, she turned on to Veteran’s Boulevard and headed the few short blocks to Whataburger. Silence stretched between them, taut and awkward. Usually, she had no shortage of words and things to say.

So sue her, she liked to talk.

For whatever reason, though, words were totally failing her right now.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Matt, the glow of passing streetlights accenting his high cheekbones, full lips and the nose that was slightly crooked after having been broken in junior high. His hazel eyes that were usually so full of mischief were currently guarded.

She kind of hated that she’d put that look in them.

Mentally, Jenn shook herself.

This was Matt. Notorious woman-chaser, confirmed bachelor and experienced one-night-stander. What did she care if he was suddenly putting his guard up and acting like someone with, oh, a conscience?

With a sigh, she turned into the Whataburger parking lot.

“Well that was a heavy sigh. I take it you don’t like taquitos?”

Jenn snorted as she put the car into PARK. “I love taquitos. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

They got out of the car and Jenn slammed her door closed before taking off for the entrance. When she realized Matt wasn’t behind her, she turned around and asked, “What, Matt? Did you suddenly change your mind and decide you didn’t want the thing not minutes before you thought you
had
to have?”

For a brief second, his face clouded with an emotion she was quite frankly scared to analyze.

Hey, at least she was willing to admit it to herself.

And then the emotion was gone, replaced with the same determined expression he usually reserved for the mound.

“Jenn—“

She held up a hand. “Stop, Matt. Before you say something we’re both going to regret. I’ve already said more than I should have. So just drop it, okay?”

He looked like he wanted to argue, so she turned around and resumed walking. She heard his heavy sigh behind her—could almost feel it, even though they were at least fifteen feet away from each other—and then his heavy footsteps, along with grumbling that sounded a lot like, “Baseball isn’t the only cruel mistress.”

She yanked open the door.
Asshole
.

#

Matt watched Jenn from across the table as they waited on their order. She was sipping her Diet Coke and looking out the window with a bored expression on her face. Her bouncing knee was the only thing that really tipped him off that she wasn’t as unaffected as she was pretending to be.

That, and he could practically feel the tension radiating in waves across the table.

He decided to let her stew and looked around the restaurant instead. Luckily the place was pretty empty—the only other occupants were a teenage couple in a back corner, and they were more interested in eating each other’s tongues than the hamburgers in front of them——which helped him relax a little.

He loved his job. Loved baseball. He usually loved meeting fans and signing autographs, especially if those fans were kids. Ever since the accident, though, he’d found himself wanting privacy in a way he never had.

He guessed having a near-death experience would do that to a person.

Matt pulled his phone from his back pocket and pretended to look at the screen while he really took the opportunity to watch Jenn.

Something about her got under his skin. Sometimes she pissed him off. Others she confused him. When she wasn’t doing either of those she was making him laugh.

And all of those times he wanted her.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it, either. He’d been with some gorgeous women; models, actresses, a former beauty queen. He’d been pursued by no shortage of jersey chasers over the past ten years, most of whom looked (and acted) like they belonged on the set of a porno rather than hanging out at the ballpark.

Matt knew he was attractive in a logical, simple aesthetics sort of way, just like he knew that his fame, athleticism and money were attractive in a different sort of way. If he wanted sex, he could find it. If he needed a date for some swanky fundraiser, he could find one. His contact list wasn’t exactly on the small side.

So why Jenn?

He knew himself well enough to realize that part of it was probably the challenge—as a competitive guy, he hated to lose, and she’d definitely thrown down the gauntlet more than once.

It was more than that, though. No, she wasn’t his usual type, but she also didn’t treat him like his usual type did.

She treated him like a human being.

She wasn’t afraid to get snippy with him, or insult him or let him know just what she thought of him. She never had been, and quite frankly, it was refreshing.

An exacerbated sigh met his ears. Jenn was glaring at him.

“What’d I do now?”

“You were staring at me with this faraway look in your eyes.”

He shrugged.

“You’re not still having concussion symptoms, are you?”

Not at the moment. “No. I was just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Original.”

“Fuck off, Matt.”

“Such a dirty mouth Ms. McDonnell. Do you teach English with that thing?”

She balled a white napkin up in her fist. “You want dirty, I’ll show you dirty.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of how dirty you can get, Jenn.” He winked at her, just to piss her off more.

Her skin flushed red from her chest to the tips of her ears, just like he knew she would.

She threw the balled up napkin at him. He was nice and didn’t duck out of the way, let it bounce off his nose instead. Really, it was the least he could do, all things considered.

Chapter Four

“Why haven’t you come
to see me more, young man?”

Matt bent down and hugged his mom. “Sorry, Mama. I still can’t drive and haven’t wanted to bother Chase too much.”

“Bullshit,” Chase coughed into his hand.

Sarah swatted Chase before poking Matt in the chest. “You know good and well that Dad or I would gladly come over here, or pick you up if you needed us to.” She placed her hands on her ample hips. “So what’s going on?”

Matt shrugged and enveloped his dad—Bo—in a hug while trying to formulate a believable answer for his mom.

“It’s good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you, too, Dad.”

The four of them moved from the front entry of Chase’s house to the kitchen, where Chase had been in the middle of preparing hamburger patties for the day’s Fourth of July festivities. Comfortable in his brother’s kitchen, Matt went to the fridge and retrieved a beer for his dad and a bottle of water for his mom.

Sarah leaned against the kitchen island and pinned Matt with her best Mom Glare. “Now why have you been hiding from us?”

How had he forgotten how tough his mom was? “I haven’t been hiding, Mom. I’ve just been relaxing, letting my body heal.”

Chase snorted and continued to form hamburger patties.

“I don’t need comments from the peanut gallery.”

“I wasn’t commenting. The inside of my nose itched.”

“Whatever. So when is Jo supposed to be back here?”

Chase glared at Matt. Matt fought the urge to let a grin split over his face. Sure enough, when he’d gotten home last night Jo had been there, and hadn’t left until about an hour and a half ago. He almost felt sorry for her, knowing she was doing the walk of shame into her grandmother’s house, but after hearing what he’d heard at all hours of the night he was having trouble feeling much sympathy.

There were some things you simply did not want to hear your little brother doing. Even when said little brother was over thirty.

“Jo? Back here? What aren’t you telling me, Chase Roberts?”

As expected, Sarah had taken the bait hook, line and sinker.

Chase glared at Matt again. Matt somehow managed to not laugh at the faint redness that tinged his brother’s face.

It really was too much fun baiting Chase.

“Uh, she came over for a while and had to go check on her grandma, said she’d be back. Did you know that Nellie had a hip replaced a couple of months ago? She’s apparently healing well.”

Their dad shook his head and chuckled. “Chase, you’re a shitty liar.”

“In all fairness, Dad, I’m not lying.”

“No, just withholding the truth—same difference.”

“So when exactly was Jo here?” Sarah asked.

Matt chuckled.

“Fuck you,” Chase said and kicked Matt under the island.

“Language!” Sarah admonished.

Matt laughed.

“I don’t know why you think this is so funny.”

Matt shrugged. “It’s nice to see you on the hot seat. Besides, I figure if Mom and Dad know about you and Jo, they won’t let you do something stupid to screw it up again.”

“I wasn’t the one who screwed up, douche canoe.”

Of course, Matt kind of knew that; why he was poking this particular hornet’s nest, he didn’t know. “Are you sure? Because we men are usually the ones to mess up.”