Playing the Field: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel Page 3

  Beautiful blue eyes were waiting for him when he looked up, sparkling and a little cautious. “Thank you for taking the time with Charlie. It means the world to him.”

  Just to test the waters, JP placed a hand on top of hers and squeezed a little. He let it linger before he slowly slid it away. Then he leaned in close. His gaze slid down to her kiss-me mouth and held. He felt his arousal grow with every passing heartbeat.

  JP let it show. Let his interest be clear as day. And he saw the moment it registered with her, because her eyes went wide and unfocused.

  That’s what he thought. “Any time.”

  Chapter Three

  * * *

  “I STILL CAN’T believe I won the raffle, Mom. It’s so awesome!” Charlie yelled from his bedroom across the hall.

  Neither could Sonny. But after her little run-in with JP Trudeau last week at the charity game it was all she could think about. And she was seriously irritated with herself about it. The guy was a friggin’ sports star. Flirting with women was probably just one of his favorite pastimes.

  Man, he was such a celebrity too. The way he’d smiled and played to the media had made it glaringly obvious that he enjoyed the limelight. Not that it should have surprised her. JP was one of those incredibly gorgeous, gifted people that were all confidence because they had the world on a string. Rightfully so, in his case. But, still. Just thinking back to what it’d felt like having all those media people surrounding them, wanting to know their business made her skin crawl. Bad.

  Privacy was essential to Sonny. Like breathing.

  Still, the way those bedroom eyes of his had looked at her lingered in her memory. Thick, long eyelashes framed eyes a deep honey brown, and when he turned them on you there was such singular focus in them that it was totally disarming. Sonny’d been completely off balance after their exchange for a good two hours. And for the next forty-eight she’d marveled at her response. She wasn’t even in the market for a man, so why was she so fixated on him? Especially since she’d never even consider dating him with his lifestyle?

  But if she wasn’t in the market for a man, why had it taken her over an hour and ten rejected outfits before she’d settled on one to wear to dinner?

  Ugh. Snapping the lid on her eye shadow box, Sonny huffed and placed it on the dresser with more force than necessary. She’d just put eye shadow on, for crying out loud. So what if it was a soft, neutral shimmer? It was the fact that she’d just had to put it on in the first place.

  JP Trudeau was just a guy. Maybe an extra hot one. But a guy all the same. He didn’t merit all the fuss she’d put herself through. Besides, she had Charlie and her work and that was all she needed in the world.

  Sonny took stock of her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. That’s right, she thought. She didn’t need anybody.

  But why the heck wasn’t her hair cooperating?

  Shoving a tousled mass over her shoulder, she hollered back at Charlie, “We’re leaving in five minutes, kiddo. It’s going to take an hour to get to the restaurant.”

  The Mexican eatery they had reservations at was a landmark in Denver. Casa Bonita was everything a kid could want in a restaurant and more. Part theme park, it housed a thirty-foot waterfall, cliff divers, and good ol’ gunfights. One time she’d even watched a swashbuckling sword fight between pirates scheming for booty.

  Shows were long enough to entertain, but not so long they disrupted the eating. And to cap the evening off, there was a gift shop to empty your wallet and leave you with an authentic imitation of La Mexicana.

  Because it culminated in such an expensive evening out, Sonny had only taken Charlie there once before. The budget was always super tight, so she had to space out their big outings and rotate through the approved list of children’s venues. The only thing she indulged in more than she should were Denver Rush ball games. Charlie loved going to them so much that she’d made it a point to get them out to at least three during the season.

  For a single mom with a mountain of school loans and a hefty business loan to repay, those games were an extravagance. But they made him so darn happy that she didn’t mind the crimp it put in her finances. Some things were just worth sucking it up for.

  Still, it was nice that she got to give Charlie a night out at no expense besides the gas. Breaks like that were few and far between for a single mom all alone in the world.

  Well, technically she wasn’t alone. Her mom was somewhere down in Guatemala living in a hippie commune, last she heard. They hadn’t spoken or seen each other since she’d dumped Sonny on her grandmother’s front steps twenty-four years ago.

  That’d been just a few months after her dad had divorced her mom and left. One day she’d had both parents. Then one parent. Then none. Before Sonny could blink, she’d found herself living in rural Colorado with a grandmother that she’d only seen twice before in her life and who considered her a real inconvenience.

  And, yes, it’d been a Saturday.

  When she turned thirteen she got a letter, postmarked Brazil, belatedly explaining that her mom had realized she just wasn’t cut out to be a parent. That it tied her down and she needed to be free to follow where “the spirit” led her.

  Then, after her grandmother had died and she’d inherited the small four-acre farmette, Sonny’d received a one-sentence letter from Guatemala demanding to know about her mother Grace’s share. As executor of her grandmother’s will, she’d packed up the shoebox worth of her mother’s “share”—which had amounted to a few dozen old photos and an ivory barrette—and sent it on its way.

  That’d been over eight years ago, and she hadn’t heard a word from her since. Not that she wanted to. The last time they’d been face-to-face had cured her of that. Even at the tender age of seven.

  Grace had shoved a small blue suitcase into her hands, the scent of nag champa clinging to her overly bronzed skin. Sonny could still recall the smell if she tried.

  She didn’t try.

  Then her mother had turned to go, the sob that ripped from Sonny’s chest stopping her. Behind her some guy that wasn’t her father sat in the driver’s seat of a red convertible, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel impatiently. He’d been around for a few weeks by that point, but he still felt like a complete stranger.

  She’d cried out, “Don’t leave me, Mama! Don’t go!”

  Her mother had turned back and wrapped her up in a tight incense-filled hug. “You’ll be fine. I promise. Your grandma will take good care of you.” Then she’d cupped Sonny’s cheek and kissed her tenderly, almost as if she felt bad that she was abandoning her kid. “Make your own destiny, honey. And always, always follow your heart—just like I’m following mine.”

  Pulling herself back to the present, Sonny took one last perusal in the mirror. Hearts led a person astray. She’d learned fast to use her head instead. Then she pushed the memories aside and studied her reflection. The outfit she’d finally settled on was simple and casual and she was totally annoyed that it’d taken her so long to choose jeans, boots, and a dove-grey peasant top.

  Charlie appeared in the doorway, hair combed and his best shoes on. “I’m ready, Mom. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Sonny blew out a breath. Right.

  JP WAITED IMPATIENTLY at the fountain in front of Casa Bonita. Glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time, he sighed and raised his gaze to scan the crowded parking lot. Sonny and her son should be there any minute.

  Smiling at the families who passed him on their way to the towering pink stucco entrance of the restaurant, JP clamped down on the antsy feeling and forced his body to relax. He’d been thinking hard about Sonny ever since the charity last Saturday, and he’d come to a few conclusions. Though he was in the middle of a season and he was still new to the team and should only be focusing on that, it simply wasn’t going to happen. Sonny had lodged herself firmly in his thoughts. It’d been almost a week since he’d first seen her and he’d thought about her as much today as he had then.


  Being a thorough kind of guy, JP had sat on things without formulating a conclusion. But when he’d still been fixed on Sonny and her incredible smile after almost a week of games and life trotting by, he’d made up his mind. For him to be so caught up thinking about her meant something significant.

  He wasn’t only out for a piece of ass.

  It didn’t mean it was going to be simple. She had a kid and he hadn’t shrugged that off. If he wanted Sonny—which he did—then he had to want Charlie too. They were a package deal. And he didn’t take that lightly. But he had just turned twenty-six and wasn’t sure he was ready to lock down with an insta-family. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about it all yet, truth be told. He just knew he was interested. But he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. It all just depended on how things went.

  It had crossed his mind that Sonny might already be in a relationship. If that was the case, then he’d have to reassess, shift angles, and try harder. JP didn’t mind thinking he might have some competition ahead. He played ball—he was competitive that way.

  All he knew, and all that mattered right now, was that he was seriously interested in getting to know Sonny better. To be able to do that, she and Charlie needed to get their butts to the restaurant. He’d glanced at his watch again. It was already five past seven. They were late.

  JP was about to push away from the fountain when he a noticed an older Honda minivan whip into the parking lot, nearly taking out two pedestrians. Catching a glimpse of gold-fire hair, he grinned and shook his head. Sonny had arrived, and it just figured that she drove like a madwoman.

  Another minute went by and then she and Charlie were hustling toward him, Sonny apologizing and looking frazzled.

  “Sorry we’re late. There was an accident on I-25 and we got hung up.” She looked embarrassed and sheepish and so damn fine in her snug-fitting jeans.

  Charlie waved his arms in front of him and exclaimed, “There was this huge pile up, cuz a big semi truck rolled over and smashed a lot of cars. It was nuts!”

  JP took them in and pushed away from the fountain, unfolding to his full height. Yeah, they’d see how it went all right. Because one look at her and he was back to feeling buzzy, like he was jonesing for something.

  That something was standing in front of him with legs a mile long and a smile that could melt the Arctic.

  With a smile of his own, JP notched his head toward the front door and said, “No worries. Shall we head in?”

  They fell into step with Charlie chatting a mile a minute. Though he tried hard to follow, the kid was talking about things completely foreign to JP. Whatever they were, they involved creatures called Pokemons. He nodded and glanced over Charlie’s head at Sonny for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

  She seemed nervous. It wasn’t until they were seated at a table surrounded by palm trees and the scent of refried beans and fajitas that she started to relax. The giant waterfall was off to the left, and the sound of rushing water seemed to calm her. She kept looking from it to Charlie and back. Him though, she tried not to look at so much. He figured it meant she was on the shy side. Wasn’t that sweet?

  Charlie turned his attention when he pointed toward the waterfall. “Look! Some dude’s going to jump off the cliff.”

  Sure enough, when JP looked over his shoulder, a guy was standing on top of the replica of Acapulco’s waterfall getting ready to hop off. While they watched, he flung his arms wide and proceeded to swan dive off the cliff to the great entertainment of the restaurant goers.

  He had to admit the place was pretty cool, but he’d dived off the actual cliffs of Acapulco and it didn’t compare. Still, for all the landlocked citizens of Colorado, this was the next best thing.

  JP noticed Sonny working the corner of a coaster and decided to let her be for now. It didn’t hurt anything to let her settle in and get comfortable. If things went the way he planned, they’d be spending time together soon enough. There was no hurry.

  He turned to Charlie, “Tell me about yourself, slugger.”

  The kids sat up a little straighter and looked at JP in all earnestness. “Well, I’m gonna be in fifth grade this year and I play Little League. Me and Mom live up near Longmont and I go to a charter school. My best friend’s name is Sam and I got a dog named Vader, cuz I love Star Wars.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I’m allergic to peanuts, and I hate Language Arts in school, but Mom makes me do it anyway.”

  JP chuckled. “Language Arts can be rough, kid. I hear ya. When’s your next ball game?”

  Charlie looked at Sonny. “It’s on Saturday, right?” She nodded and he turned back to JP. “My mom hates Saturdays.”

  Really now. That was interesting. “Why do you hate Saturdays, Sonny?”

  Before she could answer, Charlie piped up. “Cuz she thinks they’re cursed.”

  Sonny stopped tearing the coaster and pegged her son with a hard stare. “I do not.”

  The blond-haired kid grinned at JP. “She so does. It’s funny too, cuz she talks all the time about it, and swears she’s not superstitious. But my games are the only things she ever does that day. When it’s not Little League season she doesn’t go out at all. It’s our cleaning day.”

  JP leaned back in his seat and signaled a waitress, his eyes on Sonny the whole time. “Is that so?”

  He heard her mutter and shuffle under the table. Charlie let out a yip and scowled at his mom. “What’d you do that for?”

  She scowled right back. “Because you weren’t supposed to say anything.”

  The kid rubbed at his sore shin. “Why not? It’s hilarious, Mom. You’re totally weird about it.”

  JP watched the interplay with amusement. Sonny’s face had gone bright red and Charlie was mortally offended that she’d kicked him under the table. Mothers and sons. That was some funny shit right there.

  He tried again. “What’s wrong with Saturdays?” He really wanted to know.

  Sonny slumped a bit and sighed heavily, giving Charlie one last good glare before answering. “Bad things happen.”

  “Do they now?” He wondered what kind of bad things happened to a woman like her. She was beautiful and sweet and perfect. Like a ray of sunshine.

  She straightened in her seat and shoved a lock of wavy hair over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  The waitress showed up and they all ordered, Sonny making sure Charlie picked something acceptable for his diabetes. When they’d first been seated, they’d excused themselves to check his glucose levels and give him an insulin shot. Now he was ready to rumble and ordered from the adult menu.

  Because it seemed like she could use it, JP ordered two margaritas and pondered when the last time was that Sonny Miller had cut loose and unwound. She was bound tighter than a new book. To hate Saturdays was damn near sacrilegious.

  He knew a real good way to help her out with the relaxing, but they’d get to that later. For now they’d start with the margarita.

  The waitress headed off with their orders and Sonny tipped her head to the side, studying him. “Did you just order for me?”

  “Only a drink, sunshine. You need to relax.”

  Her lips puckered in protest, but then the wind seemed to go out of her some and she gestured with her hand. “Oh, what the hell.”

  The food and drinks came and as soon as the margarita was set in front of her she scooped it up and took a long pull through the straw. The way her lips wrapped around the red plastic had his gut tightening with arousal. But since Charlie was right there, he kept it under wraps and continued talking good-naturedly with the kid. Every so often someone stopped at their table and asked for his autograph and his opinion about the Rush’s run for the pennant this year. He signed and chatted and waited for the right moment to pounce.

  Once Sonny had downed about half her drink and had settled in more comfortably, he decided the time had come to do some probing. He wasn’t the least bit subtle. “What’s your story, Sonny?”

  She looked u
p from her drink. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what’s your story. What do you do, what do you like, what are your hobbies? Are you involved?”

  Suspicion crept into her gaze and she hedged, “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I’m interested.” He absolutely was. In her.

  “Cuz we’re sharing, Mom,” Charlie added.

  He could tell she was considering how much to divulge because she stared at her hands and then over his shoulder. But she’d been sipping steadily on tequila and sugar. It was truth serum. He’d get it out of her.

  And after a suspended moment, she caved. “I own an organic goat cheese business.”

  JP leaned back in his chair and crossed his jean-clad legs at the ankle. Lacing his fingers together behind his head, he settled in and prepared to listen to her tale. “Do you own goats or buy the milk?”

  She seemed surprised by that question. “Own. You’re the first person to ever ask me that. Nobody ever thinks about the work that goes on behind the cheese. All they want to know is where they can buy the finished product.”

  That’s because most people weren’t farm kids. JP knew all about livestock and what it took to run things. Just because he chose to play ball for a living didn’t mean that he failed to appreciate the hard work of farming. Every time he went home to see his folks, he got a personal reminder about it. His dad still rolled him out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn to feed the cows and collect eggs. Last Christmas he’d been out breaking ice in the water trough with a pick-ax before Santa’d finished filling the stockings hung over the fireplace. He liked it a whole lot that Sonny shared that same background. It meant they already had some common ground.

  JP snagged a tortilla chip and popped it in his mouth. “I know jack about cheese-making, but I know about goats. We had a few growing up. Believe it or not, I lost my baseball jersey to the appetite of one.” That still kinda ticked him off. He’d just moved up from Triple A and it was his first uniform in the big leagues. He’d had to tell management that a goat had chewed a damn hole through the crotch of his pants.