Out Of Her League (9 page)

He slung an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry about that.” His fingertips grazed the lace strap of her nightgown, making her already jangled nerves shriek. She wasn't wearing anything under the jersey gown. She wrapped her arms around herself to shield her body and swallowed.

“Jake started growling,” he continued, “and then I heard something outside, so I wanted to check it out just to be sure.”

She lifted her head from the balustrade. “I heard it too. I was coming to find you.” She hadn't bothered to open her eyes, but at least her voice was steady. “I'm going to kill that goddamn raccoon.”

A chuckle vibrated through his chest. “If he's smart, he's halfway up a tall tree by now. I think Jake's got the situation under control anyway.”

“He hates raccoons. Has since he was a puppy.” She leaned against him, letting his body heat chase away the lingering chill.

“You gonna go back to bed now?” His hand stroked her hair from the crown of her head to her shoulder blades.

She pulled back and gawked at him. “You think I can sleep after that?”

His eyes softened. “Still worried?”

“Well, of course I am. Even you thought it might have been you-know-who out there.”

“Yeah, I did,” he conceded. “But it wasn't.”

This time
. The words hung between them as clearly as if he'd spoken them out loud.

She dropped her head into her hands. “God, this
sucks
.” The clock chimed midnight. Monday, May nineteenth. “Hell of a way to start your birthday,” she murmured.

His hand stopped its soothing motion in the middle of her back. “It's your birthday? You didn't say anything about that.”

“Gee, it must have slipped my mind somewhere between finding out about the hit-and-run and Nate telling me what to do if the stalker pulls a knife on me.”

He made a strangled sound, as if he was struggling not to laugh—
laugh
, for crying out loud. “Happy birthday, darlin'.”

“Thanks.” Still single at twenty-nine years old and here she was, cuddled up to Rayne in her sheer nightgown, clammy with perspiration. She tightened her arms over her chest. “I think I'll go take a bath.” Maybe the warm water would soothe her enough to sleep.

He hesitated before releasing her. “Want me to wait up? I could tuck you in afterward.” His boyish grin melted her tripping heart.

She blinked up at him. It was getting harder and harder to tell whether he was teasing. She assumed he was, but that glint in his amber-and-green eyes had her thinking otherwise. “I'm sorry, I'm too tired and rattled to joke with you right now.”

“Who's joking?”

“You are.”

“Am I?”

Wasn't he? She stared into those eyes, mesmerized by the unexpected hunger swirling in their hazel depths. Unable to pull her gaze away, she watched him glance down at her mouth, mere inches away, and bend his head a fraction.
He's going to kiss me.
Mouth dry, pulse hammering, she scrambled to her feet. “I'll just go, um, take that bath now.”

His expression unreadable, he nodded.

“Thanks for checking things out.” Did he mistake her sudden retreat for disinterest? It would serve her right if he did. Well, no way to fix it gracefully now.

Thank God she'd agreed to let him stay, though. Thank God he'd offered, been so insistent. No other guy she'd known would have put his own life on hold to take care of her this way. But then, no one else had ever had to. She'd never had to let them.

“No problem. Sleep tight, kiddo.”

Coward
, her conscience sneered as she fled up the stairs to the bathroom.

She couldn't stay away from Softball City. The place, the game, were like a drug and she needed a fix. In broad daylight she felt safe around her teammates, so when one of them had called and offered her a ride to watch the practice, she'd agreed. Rayne had gone to work so she was alone in the house anyway. Besides, it was her birthday. Going to the park would be her present to herself.

When she showed up Matt shook his head at her in exasperation, but since her stalker hadn't been seen around the ballpark since he'd been thrown out for freaking over her injury, Matt let her stay. She sat through the workout while her teammates sweated it out, hating the frustration eating away at her.

Coming here was a risk now that her stalker knew where she lived, but as she and Dani had driven over here she'd made sure they weren't being followed. Rayne wouldn't be happy, but she couldn't stand having her life stripped away because of some whacko. Besides, she needed a distraction after last night's almost-kiss. She'd been awake a long time afterward, kicking herself for not going through with it. And kicking herself just as hard for wanting him to. What if she'd missed her only shot at him? When she'd gotten to sleep she'd dreamed about him pressing her down into the sheets with that strong, lean body—

“Chris.” She came out of her reverie to find Matt holding out a pen and clipboard. “Mind charting a few of our hitters for me?”

Grateful to have something useful to do, she spent the rest of the practice making up charts and joking with her teammates. They all wanted to know who the hunk was who had carried her from the park after she'd been injured, so keeping her mind off Rayne wasn't an option.

She was waiting for Dani so they could leave when her cell phone rang. She checked the number and didn't recognize it, but the phone was her work line so she assumed it was a client. “Green With Envy Landscaping, Christa speaking.”

Silence.

“Hello?” she asked, plugging her other ear with a finger. Nothing. She lowered the phone to check the signal strength: full.

She was about to disconnect when a voice spoke.

“Happy birthday. How come you're not out there with the rest of the team? Still got a headache?”

She stilled. A male voice. Something familiar about it nagged at her.

“That color pink looks good on you.”

The breath left her lungs in a rush, her eyes swinging up from her pink t-shirt to scan the park.
Him
. He was watching her right now. “Where are you?” she demanded.

He gave a chuckle.

All right. No more. Her thumb slid to cut the call.

“I assume you got my flowers.”

Breathing fast, she held off disconnecting, half hoping he would give her a clue to help the police catch him. “Leave me alone and don't call me again.”

Silence tautened across the line.

Her throat tightened. “Don't call me again,” she repeated, voice hoarse, and hung up. At least she'd sent the message that she would not be cowed by him, but a shiver ripped through her as she stared toward the outfield fence. Was he there, out of sight, watching her right now? Her skin crawled, instincts shrieking at her to flee, and she went to tell Matt about the call. He promised to alert the staff to any sightings of the stalker and stood over her while she called the police.

Safely home, she opened the back door into the kitchen, flipping on the overhead light. A ripple of apprehension slid down her spine. Where was Jake? He always met her at the back door, without fail.

“Jake?” She glanced around the great room, surprised he wasn't already underfoot clamoring for attention. She stuck her head out the doorway, calling his name again. Nothing. No answering distant bark, no jingle of his collar. Only silence. “Jake?”

A buzz of alarm sounded in her brain. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Had the stalker done something to her dog? Dread curled in the pit of her stomach, her heart tripping.

She called his name again, louder this time, and headed for the staircase, panic rampaging. A whisper of movement came from behind her, and she stopped. Frozen like prey scenting danger, she listened.

A creak, somewhere to the left, like someone stepping on a loose floorboard. Fear gripped her chest. Stupid! She never should have come inside alone, should have let Dani accompany her. Heart pounding, she whirled around to head back into the kitchen, ready to make a run for the back door.

“Surprise!”

Christa jumped, her heart almost stopping altogether. A dozen or more of her friends emerged from their hiding spots, Teryl rushing toward her with a bottle of her favorite wine and Jake in tow.

“Happy birthday, sweetie!” She beamed.

Christa stood there with a hand pressed over her poor shocked heart and smacked Teryl on the shoulder.

“Ow!” she yelped. “What's that for?”

“You scared me to death, you idiot,” Christa laughed, willing her heart back down her esophagus. She bent to gather Jake into a bear hug and let out a sigh, weakened by fading adrenaline. Rayne materialized out of the crowd, making her dizzy with relief, and she threw her arms around him.

“Whoa,” he chuckled as he hugged her back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his warm lips on her skin making her tingle all over. She had no business tingling when it came to Rayne. “Miss me that much already? Happy birthday, darlin'.”

She clung to his shoulder, reveling in the sense of security he exuded.

“Hey. Something spook you?” He frowned down at her and jerked a thumb at Teryl. “Blame your pal. It was her idea to hide and jump out at you.”

“It's not that,” she whispered into his ear. “Something happened at the ballpark. He... he called me.”

Anger burned in his eyes. “Did you call it in right away?”

“'Course I did. They're checking my cell phone records.”

“Good. I'll call the detachment myself, make sure they're onto it.”

“Thanks. I feel better with you here, anyway.”

“Off you go then, and play hostess.” He gave her butt a playful tap.

She greeted the rest of her guests then fled up the stairs to make herself more presentable. When she came back down everyone was at the island helping themselves to platters of food. Teryl sauntered over.

“Here,” she said, thrusting a glass of wine at her. “I'm already three glasses ahead of you, so hurry and catch up.”

“Yes ma'am.” Amid cheers she drained the glass. Drew came over and hugged her tight.

“You don't look a day over twenty-nine,” he told her, grinning.

“That's good to know. And thanks for throwing the party.”

Teryl waved a hand. “It was no trouble and besides, you deserve a little fun after recent events, right?”

“You're not kidding. But you guys nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Drew gave her a boyish smile. “Teryl got a little carried away. She's drunk, by the way.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a group of her teammates arriving. She waved them over to the makeshift bar at the kitchen counter where Rayne was playing bartender. Once they all had something to drink, she went around visiting with everyone, making introductions and small talk.

“C'mon, hostess,” Teryl chided. “No working tonight. This is your birf— birthday, I mean,” she corrected herself, swaying a bit on her four-inch heels.

“You sure you've only had three glasses?” Christa teased.

Teryl gave her a tipsy smile and tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder. “I never said I'd only had three. I said three more than you.” She whipped around. “Where's my studly hubby gone?” she asked, wobbling on those precarious heels, reaching out to grab onto Christa's shoulder to steady herself. “Hey, Drew! Get over here.”

Christa smothered a laugh into her wineglass as Drew started toward them.

“Isn't he the sexiest thing you've ever laid eyes on?” Teryl gushed.

“The sexiest by far,” she agreed, but she was staring at Rayne. As though he sensed it, he looked up and met her gaze, held it. Gave a slow wink that sent her pulse skittering.

Drew peeled his wife off Christa, hugging her into his side to keep her steady. “You're so cute when you're smashed.

“I know,” she sighed, melting against him. “And I'm also really horny— ”

Oh, God. Christa winced and with one look into Drew's laughing eyes, made her escape. She went to stand with Rayne and introduced him to her teammates, their eyes bright with curiosity. The moment he went back to serving drinks they pounced on her, pressing for details.

“Sadly,” she informed them, “there are no details.” But for the rest of the evening they shot her sidelong looks and waggled their eyebrows.

“So, tell me,” Rayne interrupted, leaning on his elbows to survey the room. “Any of your friends here, you know... ‘bat for both teams'?”

She gave him a disbelieving glare. “Are you serious?”

“Isn't it true— ”

“That we stay up all night on road trips massaging each other with hot oil and have pillow fights in our underwear? Yeah, it's true.”

He laughed out loud, then rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, man, you sure know how to hit a guy where it hurts. I'll be up all night thinking about that now.”

“Poor baby.” It was a good thing she felt so comfortable and safe with him, or she'd never be able to flirt like this. Teryl was making her way toward them, her lipstick smeared from doing who knew what with Drew, a crooked smile on her face. “Teryl, tell Rayne about the time in California when— ”

“When we almost got thrown out of the hotel for skinny dipping?” Her eyes danced.

Rayne groaned, and Teryl gave a wicked smile. “The whole team was buck naked out in the pool when this elderly couple came out to have a hot tub. The old guy stands there gawking at us as if his fondest wish had come true. He turns to his horrified wife and says, ‘Estelle, I can finally die a happy man now.'”

“You were out there too?” he asked Christa, as if having trouble imagining her being that brave.

Teryl winked at him. “Yeah, it's her one claim to fame— her one and only bad girl deed, and she only did it because we were all giving her such a hard time.”

“Well, I did it, didn't I?”

“You sure did, sweetie, and I'm glad. God knows she needs to loosen up from time to time,” she confided to Rayne. “That's my birthday wish for you, Chris. I want some hunk to come along and blow your mind with wild, unattached monkey sex.”

“Thanks.” She gave Teryl a quelling look, didn't dare glance at Rayne.

Teryl leaned closer to him, crooking a finger until he bent his head so she could stage-whisper in his ear. “Did you know she hasn't gotten laid in almost
five years
?” She made it sound like a century. “We have Cameron the Shithead to thank for that.”