Jill Shalvis - Slow Heat

He pulled off his shirt and shoved it into his locker as the others made their way in to change as well. As was typical, he spent more time in these rooms with the team than he did anywhere else, and it’d been designed for comfort. Right here within reach was just about anything anyone could ever want: food, flat-screen TVs, video games, workout equipment, massages, whirlpools, anything. He took in the guys all around, guys that were like his brothers as they talked, laughed, dressed, played, hung out, and he had to face one fact-the one thing he wanted hadn’t showed up.

It was unlike Sam not to be around pre-game, especially today. She liked to be involved in everything, hustling reporters in and out of the area, putting her nose in, bossing them all around with a sweet smile that barely covered the unbendable sheer steel will just beneath the surface.

He looked at his cell phone, registering that she still hadn’t returned a single one of his five phone calls. Shaking his head at her, at himself, he pulled on his uniform, nodding at Pace, who’d come up next to him and was doing the same.

The usual adrenaline was beginning to pound through his system as he dressed. Henry was on his other side now, pulling out his trusty headband, the same one he wore to every game. Mike pulled out his St. Christopher’s Cross and kissed it, just as he did every time he jogged out to third base.

Superstitions.

The caveat of the game, and a habit that had actually brought Pace and Holly together. Wade turned his head and watched as Holly came into the clubhouse, heading straight for her fiancée with a secret smile on her face.

Pace’s expression went just a little goofy. Taking Holly’s hand, he pulled her into the shower room, where Wade knew-hell, everyone knew-that Pace would press her back against the tile wall of the showers and kiss her stupid.

That was Pace’s superstition. If he kissed Holly, he’d pitch well.

They’d win.

Hell, even if it only worked in Pace’s mind, it worked for Wade. He wanted to win today, wanted that badly. So badly he had to wonder if he wasn’t putting some of his frustrations into the wrong avenue.

And then he felt it, the prickle of awareness on the back of his neck, and he turned to the door as Samantha McNead walked in.

She wore one of her power suits, red, snug in the jacket, short in the skirt. She and her mile-long legs strode through like she owned her world.

She’d sure as hell rocked his.

She smiled at Gage, who slipped an arm around her, soft with Sam where he was never soft with his players. He murmured something into her ear, and though her easy smile never wavered, her eyes flickered as if a painful memory had presented itself, but it vanished so fast he couldn’t be sure.

She hugged Gage, nodded as if reassuring him of something, and moved on. She smiled at Mason, bumped fists with Joe, and nodded at some of the other players nearby.

And then she glanced Wade’s way, telling him that she was as aware of him as he was of her. Just a quick peek, nothing more, but it was enough.

She wanted to be cool, calm, and collected, and she needed distance to accomplish that.

So did he.

Desperately. He wasn’t planning on pushing for anything more. That wasn’t him. He never pushed. He’d never had to. Luckily for him, most of the women in his life had fallen for his easy charm with little to no effort on his part. And when this month was over, he’d go right back to that.

Pace and Holly reappeared from the shower rooms. Holly’s lip gloss had been eaten off and she had a glow about her.

Pace had the predictable satisfied grin plastered on him.

Wade shook his head, then ignored everything he’d just told himself and came up behind Sam, who’d made her way to the table of drinks and was choosing between two different brands of iced tea. “Hey,” he said. “How are you?”

“Hey, yourself. I’m fine, thanks.”

“You left in a hurry yesterday.”

“Things to do,” she said.

Uh-huh. Like regroup.He leaned in. “Maybe we should come up with a ritual before each game, like Pace and Holly. There might be something to their superstition.”

“Pace isn’t superstitious,” she said. “You know it’s everyone else who thinks that their kisses work. Pace and Holly only go along with it because… well, because they’re in love.”

Wade looked into her eyes, searching for the warm, soft, sweet woman who’d been wrapped around him like a pretzel only yesterday afternoon, wrapped around him and panted his name like a mantra as he’d thrust into her welcoming body. But that woman was nowhere to be found.

“Okay,” he said quietly, turning her to fully face him. “Let’s try this again. Hi. How are you really?”

She blew out a breath, and for a moment let herself lean into him. “I’m sorry I ran out on you.”

“It’s okay. I was tempted to do the same,” he admitted, waiting until she looked up in surprise. He smiled ruefully. “Got a little too real there, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She sighed again. “Probably the whole losing our clothes thing was a real bad idea. We need to watch that.”

“That’s my favorite part.”

She smiled but it faded quick. “I don’t mind the pretend-relationship thing, Wade. But the getting naked thing is really hard for me to do so casually.”

Yeah. He got that. He also had nothing to say in response, which was just as well since she was already gone.

Pace came up beside him. “Want some advice?”

“No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” He slung an arm around Wade. “Too bad I’m going to give it to you anyway. Remember when you told me to go get myself a life outside of MLB, a life with Holly?”

“I have plenty of life outside of it. And a good part of that is with you and the parks we’re building for kids, or have you forgotten that big fat check I just wrote you? Or the two days we spent last week coaching spring camps for those kids?”

“I’m talking about you and Sam.”

“There is no me and Sam. It’s pretend, remember? We’re just making the sponsors happy.” His cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, saw the area code that signaled Oregon, and swore. His father. John had left Wade a message earlier, telling him that he’d gotten in trouble for running a poker game and he needed bribe money for the caretaker. Not needing another call like that, Wade hit Ignore.

Pace was watching him. “You’re good at that, hitting Ignore.”

“I’ve already sent money today to get him out of trouble for gambling. I think he can wait until after the game for anything else.”

“Maybe it’s not money he needs. Maybe writing a check, either to the kids, to your father, to whoever asks, isn’t always the answer. And you’re missing my point on purpose. Stop ignoring, Wade. Make a commitment, somewhere, with someone.”

Wade just shook his head. He had a damn hard time with commitment, cliché or not. He’d been let down by commitment before, by people bound to him by blood even. It wasn’t in the cards for him. Besides, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t act on his growing feelings for Sam because in spite of her toughness, he sensed that she wanted to commit, and he refused to let her down. And he would eventually let her down.

“Look,” Pace said. “You told me I had a real chance at a great life, with Holly. You told me to go for it.”

“Yeah, and you told me I was full of shit.”

“I was wrong. You were right. And now I’m right.” He squeezed Wade’s shoulder in commiseration. “Just as I also know you’d like to kick my ass for saying so, but you can’t because Gage is looking at us right now, trying to decide if he needs to come intervene.”

Wade looked up and met Gage’s narrowed, carefully observant eyes. The team manager, aka Skipper, had broken up more fights between his players than he had fingers and toes. One more wouldn’t be a problem, but Wade let out a rough breath. “I could kick your ass before he even got over here.”

“Keep dreaming,” Pace said in a mock soothing voice that really did make Wade want to smash his face in, best friend or not. “But if you tried, Sam would really be pissed.”

Wade shoved away and stalked off to Pace’s low, knowing laugh as he grabbed his gear and headed out for practice.

Feeling all mixed-up and churned-up and more confused than ever, Sam walked to her seat in the stands and found her usual seatmate waiting for her.

“Hiya,” Holly said.

“I need sugar.”

Without missing a beat, Holly handed over her lemonade, then pulled out a bag of M &M’s to go with it.

Sam sighed in sheer pleasure as she ripped into them. “You’re a good friend.”

“I am.” Holly looked at her speculatively. “I know why I usually need sugar. Either Pace has pissed me off, or I need to get me some.”

“Some what?”

Holly waggled a brow.

Sam sighed.

“And,” Holly said, “since I know you just got some-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Uh-huh. So that leaves pissed. Question is, are you pissed off at Wade, or yourself?”

Sam busied herself with the M &M’s.

Holly snorted, then lifted a tray she’d stowed behind her feet. It held the bribes-two fully loaded hot dogs, peanuts, and cotton candy.

“I’m on a diet,” Sam said in protest, but grabbed a dog. And then on second thought, the peanuts and cotton candy as well, hugging it all to her chest.

“Atta girl.” Holly tore into her own hot dog. “So. How’s that pretend thing going?”

Sam chewed a huge bite of hot dog. “I don’t want to talk about that either.”