Bringing Down Sam (12 page)

Maybe pigs would fly.

But whatever the case, it was worth getting everything out into the open. Finally.

Sam watched Eve closely, knowing she was about to tell him the real story. He could see her take a deep breath, and part her lips, ready to spill forth the rest of the story about why she'd been posing as a blonde bimbo for him. He wasn’t the type to flatter himself and think she was trying to become the kind of woman he wanted because she’d read his book and decided he was the one and only guy for her. But he’d lay money it had something to do with the book.

“Well?”

She opened her mouth. But before she could say a word, someone knocked sharply on the car window. 

"You guys in there making out or what? Come on, the game's about to start!"

Sam glanced outside and saw one of his buddies grinning back at him. He sighed. Whatever Eve had been about to tell him was gone now. The moment was lost. "Come on, we can finish this conversation later." He saw her relieved expression. "And we will finish it, right, Eve?"

She hesitated, then gave him a quick nod.

Stepping out of the car, Sam greeted his friend Mac. "You've always had such impeccable timing."

"Hah. It's broad daylight in a public park, Sammy boy. And a Sunday morning, no less. Keep it in the bedroom."

Sam fell right into the traditional routine. "Sorry, I forgot you're married. You probably don't remember how to do it anywhere but in a dark bedroom underneath piles of covers with her wearing a flannel night shirt and sweat socks."

His friend groaned, then playfully punched him in the chest. "So you've finally brought yourself a date, huh, Sam?"

Sam followed Mac's stare, watching as Eve got out of the passenger side and walked around the car. "Ho-ly mo-ly," the other man drawled as his mouth fell open.

"You're drooling right down your chin, pal," Sam said. "And Carla's standing right over there...remember Carla? Your wife?"

His friend shook off the daze he'd been under and attempted a weak smile. "Women never looked like that when I was single."

Sam ignored him and walked up to take Eve's arm. Again, as she had the night before at the cocktail party, Eve pressed closer into his side than was entirely necessary. Feeling the tenseness of her body, he wondered what was wrong. Then he noticed the cluster of wives and girlfriends watching her warily.

"Don't sweat it Eve. They're all nice people. Just give them a chance to get to know you."

She shrugged and straightened her back. "Women don't always bother to try to get to know me."

He wondered at her comment, but by that point they'd reached the picnic tables. A dark-haired woman, who was a girlfriend of one of the other guys, at least made the effort and offered Eve a smile of welcome. The others remained silent.

Eve sent a silent prayer upward, hoping the day wouldn't be a complete wash-out. Now was the make-or-break moment. The women would either close ranks, because their husbands and boyfriends were leering at her from the ball field, or they'd offer a friendly smile, make fun of their ape-man mates, and give her a chance. She'd played this scenario many times before. The former outcome, unfortunately, was the one she experienced more often.

Eve held her breath. Finally, the decision was made by the apparent leader of the group. A smile lit up the face of a pregnant redhead wearing a bright yellow maternity dress. "Sam, it's about time you showed up! And finally you've brought your own cheering section." The woman's eyes twinkled in welcome.

"Hey, you're getting too big for cartwheels," Sam retorted easily. "This is Eve Barret."

"I'm Carla Jaeger, that's my big dopey husband still standing there wiping the drool off of Sam's windshield." She gave an exasperated sigh, but the humor was evident in her face. Eve felt a huge surge of relief.

Sam squeezed her hand before he walked toward the field, warming up with one of the other players. As soon as he left, Carla introduced her to all the other women, and only one or two continued to stare at her with suspicion. The others seemed friendly, unthreatened as any woman in a strong, secure relationship would be.

"So what's the deal?" Eve asked, noticing several of them were dressed in flowery sun dresses and sandals. "You don't play?"

"Once in awhile," Carla replied. "I used to play a lot, but I don't run so fast these days. It can be just as much fun to watch. These guys are such babies, they get totally anal over these stupid games, and end up arguing and quitting half the time. I keep telling them to lighten up and just enjoy it but they're way too competitive. They act like spoiled fifth graders when they have to take a 'girl' on their team!"

"Sounds like they need a 'girl' to show them up,” Eve said.

Carla must have heard the note of confidence in Eve's voice, because she studied her intently. "Are you up to the challenge?"

"Absolutely," Eve replied with calm assurance.

"A little feminine maneuvering might catch them by surprise." Her stare was purely speculative.

Eve narrowed her eyes, nodding. "I understand completely."

Tina, the brunette who'd been the first to offer a smile, said, "I'm up for playing, Eve, if you're going to. I just didn't want to if none of the other women were."

"You up for playing to win, Tina?"

"That's what I'm here for," Tina said, putting her hands on her hips. "My boyfriend told me none of the other girlfriends ever play...and boy would I love to show him up."

Eve smiled, resolute. "Anybody have a glove I could borrow?"

Carla reached into a beach bag on the ground near her feet. It was obviously difficult for her to bend over the huge mound of stomach, and she grimaced. Retrieving a worn glove, she tossed it to Eve. "I always bring it along because I threaten Mac if he doesn't behave, I'm going to pull him out of the game and play myself. Our baby could be born on the third base line."

Eve laughed. "You stay right here. Tina, wanna warm up?"

The woman tugged her own glove and ball from another bag. As they left the picnic area to walk over to the field, Eve heard Carla tell the other women what Eve planned to do. Funny that Carla had been able to read her so easily. Eve liked her already. 

Watching out of the corner of her eye, Eve noticed as the men on the field glanced over to see what was going on. Most of them laughed out loud, but Sam stared at her intently.

"I came to play, big guy," Eve said.

He grinned. "Play on, doll. Throw me some of those curves."

A few good natured catcalls came from some of the other players, but Eve ignored them. "Whose team are we on?"

All the players on the field immediately pointed to members of the opposite team. Sam silenced them. "Mine. Both of you are on mine." He gave his teammates a glare, and they quit grumbling.

"Let us warm up, then we'll be ready," Eve said as she gently tossed the ball to Tina. She heard the sigh of a nearby player, and smothered a grin when he mumbled something that sounded like "throws like a girl".

Eve knew what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was doing. "You know, Tina, I do need to stretch out. Okay?"

Eve strolled close to the bench where some of the players already sat. They were watching. All of them. Biting the inside of her cheek to hide a grin, Eve raised her arms over her head and began to stretch, side to side, knowing the cotton fabric of her red tank top was pulled tight over her breasts. The bottom of the shirt slipped out of the waistband of her jean shorts, and she felt eight pairs of male eyes slide down her body to peek at her pierced belly button. She waited for the quick rush of anxiety she always felt when people stared at her, but didn't feel it. She felt like she did in front of a camera. Like she was performing...pretending to be someone else.

Glancing toward Tina, she gave her a broad wink and a nod of encouragement. The other woman seemed to understand, and she smothered a giggle with her hand. Then she, too, began exercising, bending completely over to stretch out her leg muscles.
Good girl, Tina
. The men's eyes moved faster than scampering rats, shifting their attention back and forth between Tina's long, toned legs and Eve's bare belly.

By the time they were completely warmed up, Eve and Tina had the focus of each male player on the field. Right now, they were thinking about anything but what skill at softball the two women might have.

"It's almost too easy," Eve muttered as she and Tina took their places on the bench with the other players.

Eve glanced at Sam and noticed his dark frown. He didn't seem pleased with her performance, and kept shooting glares at two of his teammates who whispered to one another nearby. When he realized she was watching, he caught her eye and held it.

While she'd been completely disinterested in the admiring, mindless glances of the other men, she was very much affected by Sam's. His gaze shifted away from her face, down her torso, sliding across her hips and legs with the confidence of a man who thought he had the right to look at her. And more. Eve felt the heat in his stare, and her pulse beat more rapidly in her veins.

They were far from alone. Three sweaty guys separated them on the bench. But his stare was as intimate as a touch, and nearly as pleasurable. 

"Let's play," he said softly, so softly she didn’t even hear the words so much as read them on his lips.

Eve nodded slowly. "Absolutely."

Sam wondered what Eve was up to. There was no question she was up to something. Her stretching performance had been completely intentional. She'd had the lustful attention of every player on the field. And Sam hadn't liked it one bit.

Again, he was confused by the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy. He'd never experienced it with any woman before Eve. And now, after knowing her for a few short days, he was ready to rip the arms off two guys who were whispering about her.

"Ready?" Eve asked.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "You sure you're up for this?"

She nodded. "Batting order?"

"How 'bout you bat first," he said, his tone challenging.

Sam watched as she walked to home plate, picked up a medium-weight wooden bat and slid it across her shoulders for another quick stretch, a look of casual nonchalance on her face.

"I got a mean high-curve pitch, Blondie. You sure you wanna do this?" said the player on the pitcher's mound.

If anything, Eve's casual attitude was more pronounced after the pitcher's taunt. She shrugged, but Sam saw the quick flash of determination in her clenched jaw. Then she was all smiles, the flirtatious bimbo he'd met at the photo shoot.

"Well, gee, I don't know. I'd sure hate to break a nail."

Eve lifted one hand to glance at her brightly painted red nails, and the players on Sam's team all groaned in unison.

But Sam slowly smiled. Because, suddenly, he had a sneaking suspicion Eve was playing the team just as she'd played him the first time they'd met. He remained quiet and watched.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll be gentle with you," the pitcher said, his tone as deliberately suggestive as his words.

"You’re so sweet," she called back in that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth voice. This time, Sam saw the glint of determination in her narrowed eyes as she slung the bat back across her shoulder and hunkered down over home plate. The instant before the pitcher let the ball fly, perhaps a bit gentler than he would have if one of the guys had been batting, Sam knew what would happen.

Crack!

"Holy shit!" one of the players on the bench said. They all leaped up, watching, open-mouthed, as Eve blasted the ball right back at the pitcher, coming so close to the guy's ear he probably heard the whistle of the wind as it passed. The players in the outfield, who'd moved closer in arrogant skepticism, were caught with their proverbial pants down. One of them had to run clear out of the field, across the sidewalk and down into the kiddie sandbox to retrieve the ball.

"Did you see that?" someone muttered, and Sam just grinned.

Eve Barret could play ball.

Eve did not run so much as do a little jog around the bases. The guys on the other team still stared, but this time, there was suspicion in their eyes, rather than tolerant admiration. The players on her team, however, cheered wildly as she cruised across home plate. She paused, cocking her head to the side, and stared at Sam. "Who's up next?"

By the time the game ended, nearly two hours later, Sam's team led by five runs. And the guys on the team treated Eve and Tina as if they were old locker room pals. "Where'd ya learn to fast-pitch like that, Eve?" one of the players asked.

"This lady's full of surprises," Sam said as he walked with Eve to the picnic tables.

Before she could reply, Eve heard the loud rumble of a well-tuned, powerful motorcycle. In the parking lot, a large bike slid between two cars, making a space of the solid yellow line. One of the cars was Sam's, and the biker came close to taking off Sam's rear-view mirror.

Wondering how he would react, she quickly glanced at Sam and was surprised to see a look of resignation on his face.

"Someone you know?"

"We’ve met," he replied, his tone dry.

They reached the picnic tables and Eve helped herself to a bottle of cold water. The wives and girlfriends, who'd become Eve and Tina's biggest cheering section during the game, immediately started planning for the following week, when they swore they'd all play. All except Carla, of course, who promised she'd be there to cheer them on...as long as she wasn't in labor.

Gradually, most of the women quieted. Eve, who sat at the picnic table with her back to the parking lot, didn't understand why. The women kept looking past Eve, then darting quick glances to Sam, sitting on her left. Sam seemed completely oblivious as he munched on a fried chicken leg.

"Did I miss the game?"

Hearing a deep, unfamiliar voice, Eve glanced over her shoulder and saw a man carrying a motorcycle helmet standing a few steps away. He stared at them, a mocking smile curling his lips, as if amused by the Sunday afternoon picnic scene.

He was dressed all in black, from his tight-as-sin jeans, to his sleeveless muscle shirt. The color suited him. His hair was the same shade, thick, long, pulled into a ponytail at the back of his neck. His skin was deeply tanned, or possibly naturally dark. As he stepped closer, Eve noticed his eyes were a startling light green. All in all, the guy looked like a hood, or like the star of a biker flick. But he was definitely hot.