chapter 29
A SURGE OF relief flooded through Ryan’s veins as Taylor struggled to yank his tee shirt over his head, along with a whole shitload of hormones telling his body to get busy with her body right now. He let her have her way, bending his knees and putting up his arms so she could slip the shirt over his head. Her expression intent, she attacked his belt next.
“Hang on a sec, babe,” he said, capturing her face between his hands and forcing her to look at him.
Her fingers stilled at his waist as she gazed up at him, her prairie sky blue eyes still damp from the few tears she hadn’t been able to hold back over her frustration with that a*shole Dembinski. And her gaze, so wary only a few minutes ago, was now heartbreakingly vulnerable and open.
She swallowed hard, the muscles of her slender neck visibly contracting. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He pressed a quick, soft kiss to her plush lips. “Nothing. I just want to make certain this is what you want. I’ve been making too many of the decisions in the relationship, if only by acting like such a jerk and pushing you away, and I don’t want to take anything—”
She let out a dramatic sigh, but the tension bled away from her pretty features. “For your information, Mr. Locke, you are not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do, as I would think you’d have figured out by now.” A wry smile touched her lips. “In fact, I’ve been the pushy one, not you.”
He smoothed a few stray hairs of white-gold back from her cheeks. “Only for my own good, sweetheart. All you’ve ever wanted to do is help me.” He knew that now—how much she’d gone out on a limb for him, at great cost to herself. He’d never be able to completely repay her for all the ways she’d helped him, but he was damn well going to try.
She looked a little teary again as she gazed up at him, and she had to blink away the moisture. “I care for you a lot, Ryan. A lot,” she said, emphasizing the last few words.
“Me, too,” he answered in a gruff voice. “I care for you a lot, too.”
In fact, he was pretty damn sure he was in love with her, but he was afraid he’d scare the crap out of her if he told her that right now. Their relationship was complicated on a whole lot of levels, and they would need time and probably a lot of talking to get things right. They would get it right, but for now what they needed was to be with each other—physically, more than anything else. It was the best way he could think of to reconnect with her, and show her how much he cared for her, too.
She gave an adorably defiant little sniff, placed her hands on his chest and gave him a little shove. “Okay, then. Maybe you could show me how much you care about me instead of going all Mr. Sensitive on me.”
“Caveman time again, is it?” he said with a grin. “Lady, your wish is my command.”
Ryan caught her under the knees and around the shoulders, sweeping her up into his arms. She choked out a surprise laugh and then nestled comfortably in his arms. He relished the feel of her. Not simply the luscious curves of her delectable body, but the sense of rightness he felt holding her close to his heart.
“What, no tossing me over the shoulder? No brute displays of alpha male dominance?” she asked, her eyes now glittering with laughter rather than tears.
He strode down the short hall in the direction of her bedroom. “Nah, that’s only for anniversaries, remember?”
Her gaze grew smoky with desire. “How could I ever forget?” she murmured.
She stretched up and nipped at his earlobe, and a heavy bolt of lust streaked down to his groin. Ryan clamped her hard against his chest and headed into her room in a rush, overtaken by the fierce need to get them both naked and into bed. Just looking at her, feeling her against him, practically made the bones shake in his body. At this rate, he’d be lucky to even get inside her before letting go.
He set her on her feet and reached for the hem of her polo shirt, but she slipped out of his grasp.
“Taylor…” he growled.
“Patience, big guy,” she said in a husky voice as she sauntered over to the picture window looking out over Rittenhouse Square.
By the enticing sway of hips in her skinny jeans, Ryan was damn sure she was deliberately winding him up. Not necessary. He was already wound so tight he was afraid he’d explode as soon as he touched her.
“We don’t want to put a show on for half of Philadelphia, do we?” she purred as she drew the white sheers across the window, turning the room into a dim, intimate space of soft shadows.
He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his biceps just for the fun of it and more than ready to play her little game. “Hell, no,” he growled. “You’re mine, babe. Let’s be clear about that.”
Her gaze dropped to his erection, currently straining against his zipper. She gave him a cheeky little grin. “I can get down with that.”
Then she drifted toward the queen-sized bed with its fluffy white duvet and lace pillows, lifting her little pink shirt over her head as she went. Her slender back narrowed to a perfect waist but it was her chest that captured his attention. She was wearing the white satin bra he loved, the one that pushed her breasts up into full, luscious mounds just begging to be sucked. And she was obviously just as turned on as he was. He’d barely touched her and already her nipples were pushing against the smooth fabric in taut points.
He watched her, his chest pulling tight with an insane combination of lust and tenderness as she slowly undid her jeans and wriggled out of them. Of course, she turned her back to him, giving him a perfect view of her first-class ass as she undressed. No thong today, but it hardly mattered. Even in her plain white panties, Taylor was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Well, are you going to join me or just stand there leering all afternoon?”
That unglued his feet from the floor. “Just enjoying the view.”
She turned around to meet him, flowing into his arms like cool, liquid silk. “I’d rather you enjoy it from here,” she whispered as she stretched up on her toes to kiss him.
At the soft connection of their lips, his heart turned over. She was both tender and passionate, her arms sliding around her neck as she seemed to pour all her emotions into the kiss. Ryan tasted it all—her relief, her happiness, even all her insecurities—because he recognized them as his own, too.
When they finally put a little space between them, trying to catch their breaths, he cradled her face between his hands. “I’m sorry I was such a dope. It wasn’t like I wanted to hurt you. I was just—”
She pressed two fingers to his lips, silencing him. “No, Ryan, it’s okay. You were trying to do the best for you and Devon. I understand that.”
He hugged her, relishing the feel of her nestled in his arms. “Yeah, well, I was still a dope.”
She laughed. “Let’s just say stubborn and leave it at that, okay?”
He nodded, and drew back a bit to look down into her face. Her blue eyes were misty with tenderness, laughter, and a feminine understanding that made him realize all over again what a lucky bastard he was.
“Deal,” he said. “But how can I make it up to you?”
“Just make love to me. That’s all I want right now.”
“I can do that,” he said, walking her backwards the few feet to the bed.
She plopped down with a giggle when her knees hit the mattress. While Ryan shed the rest of his clothing in record time, she got rid of her underwear. Part of him wanted to stand there and gaze at her, drinking her in, but he couldn’t hold himself back. He tumbled down beside her, wrapping himself around her until he couldn’t feel where his own body ended and hers began.
Plastered against each other—chest, pelvis, thighs—they got lost in a hot exchange of lips and tongues. Both of them were eager, too eager to waste much time on foreplay. Ryan came up for air just long enough to reach for the drawer in her bedside table, pulling out the box of condoms he’d stashed there a few weeks ago. Impatiently, he shook one out and then tossed the box onto the floor. He rolled onto his back to sheathe himself, but she stopped him with a gentle touch on his chest.
“Let me,” she murmured. “Just lie back.”
She came up on her knees, crouching beside him, all smooth, creamy skin and long blond hair that fell down over her plump, pink-tipped breasts. Ryan had to fist his hands into the bedspread to keep himself from dragging her down onto him—condom or no.
When her cool fingers settled on his cock, he had to clamp down hard against his already impending orgasm. Taylor glanced at him then quickly unrolled the condom along his length, obviously getting how close he was to the edge. But when he reached for her, intending to roll her underneath him and take her in one swift thrust, she planted a hand on his shoulder.
“Just lie back and relax,” she said in a firm voice.
Despite the fact that she was buck-naked and obviously as aroused as he was, she managed to sound like the prim and proper baseball executive he knew she could be. And for some weird reason, that turned him on even more.
“Yes, boss.”
One corner of her mouth quirked with amusement. “Now, that’s what I like to hear.”
She slung a slender leg over his hips, positioning herself over the tip of his cock. Then, with one hand holding his aching length and the other braced on his chest, she lowered herself in a slow, deliciously agonizing slide. Ryan arched his hips, lifting their bodies slightly off the bed as she seated herself on him, flush against his groin. The feel of her wet, tight flesh around his cock, her sweet blond curls tickling his skin, the sight of her beautiful body posed above him—it undid him, almost tipping him right over the edge.
But that was nothing compared to the emotion shining in her eyes as she started to ride him. Too often, Taylor Page tried to fly under the radar, hiding her light under a bushel. But right now, stripped down to her most vulnerable self, naked in every way, Ryan saw her for who she was—a spectacular woman of fierce intelligence, joyful passion, and bone-deep strength. Loving and generous and with a heart that was brave and true. He knew sometimes she failed to see those qualities in herself, as did the people in her life. But if he had anything to do with it, he intended to make sure she never forgot who she was again.
She picked up the rhythm, panting with excitement. He let her take control, matching her thrust for thrust. When he reached up with both hands to take her breasts, gently thumbing her gorgeously taut nipples, he heard her breath catch in her throat. Her tight inner muscles started to ripple around him and her head fell back, her throat a slim column of white, and breasts pushing into his hands as she began to keen. The next second her orgasm fully took her and she climaxed around him.
With one last push of his hips, Ryan drove into her, his own body stiffening with the waves of pleasure as he came inside her. His hands moved to her hips and clutched her, holding her in place as he poured himself out. Only when they’d both finished and the shuddering jolts of their bodies had subsided did he let her slide down onto him. She draped over him, a delicious package of dewy flesh, breath coming in fractured pants.
“Boy, I needed that,” she muttered. “I can’t tell you how much.”
He kissed the top of her mussed head, enjoying the faint coconut scent that drifted up to his nostrils. “I think I can imagine.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed halfway up to a sitting position. “I noticed,” she said with a sly grin. Then she winced a bit and lifted off him.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked with concern. “We kind of rushed it.”
She snuggled into his side. “No, it was perfect. But sometimes I forget how big you are.”
Predictably, his stupid male pride couldn’t help preening. He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. “Back in a second.”
Ryan went into the bathroom and took care of business. A glance at the digital clock on her bathroom counter gave him a bit of a jar when he saw how late it was. He rejoined her in the bed, pulling her into his arms, but knew he’d have to leave after a quick shower.
“Taylor, I hate to say it, but I gotta get going. I promised Devon that I’d take her to the Italian Market this afternoon.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Just like a man. Have your way with me and then off you go.”
He grimaced. “I know. It’s totally rude, but—”
“Oh, shut up, you big goof,” she said. “I was kidding. Of course you need to spend the afternoon with Devon. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. Her eyes, clear as a morning sky, smiled back at him.
“You could come with us, if you want,” he said. “Devon would love that. “ As would he. Now that they’d found their way back to each other, he didn’t want to let her go.
“No way, pal. You and your daughter need some alone time. We’ll do something together later in the week.”
She was right, of course. He and Devon had a lot to talk about, and a lot of missed time to make up for, too.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Ryan watched with a little ping of regret as she got out of bed.
“Just remember that, pal. I’m always right,” she said with a grin as she pulled on a kimono-type robe. Her smile faded as she sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her feet.
“What’s up, babe?” he asked.
“What are you going to say to Dembinski about your arm?” She bit her lip, starting to look anxious again.
“Hey, none of that,” he said, giving her shoulder a little shake. “I’m going to tell him to put me on the DL. That way, I can put all my energy into working on the problem with Dr. Farley.”
She nodded, giving him a tentative smile. “Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
“I’m totally sure. Now, what are you going to do?”
She tilted her head, looking quizzical.
“About Dembinski,” he said patiently. “How are you going to deal with him?”
She frowned, her shoulders hunching a bit as she thought it through. Ryan waited her out, knowing she had to come to her own conclusions. After about a minute or so, her head came up and her gaze was firm and steady.
“I’m going to confront the jerk and tell him exactly what I think about what he did. Then I’m going to do my best to get our working relationship back on a sound footing. An equal footing.”
Ryan smiled as he reached over to hug her. “That’s my girl. The bastard won’t know what hit him.”
Knowing Taylor, he had every confidence that she could pull it off. He only hoped she realized it, too.
30
TAMMY, THE GM’S secretary, waved at Taylor from her desk. “Hold on, Taylor. He wants to see you right away.” She gave Taylor a slight, sardonic smile, perfectly conveying that Dembinski was in one of his moods.
And there was little doubt in Taylor’s mind that she was about to bear the brunt of it.
She sighed as she leaned against the door of the GM’s outer office and looked past Tammy’s desk into Dembinski’s empty lair. “Okay. Am I going to have to send bloodhounds out to find him?”
“He’s in the clubhouse with Jack,” Tammy said. She hesitated, then grimaced. “Taylor, I think you should know that he sounded fine this morning until he took a call from Ryan Locke a few minutes ago. After that he stormed out, telling me to hunt you down if you didn’t show up in the next ten minutes.”
“Oh, perfect,” she muttered, giving Tammy a wave before heading down the hall.
Taylor had expected Dembinski to react less than joyously to the request she had known Ryan was about to make when she left home—even though he’d been totally down last week with her idea of packing Ryan off to Dr. Farley. Nevertheless, she hadn’t counted on another explosion of the notorious Dembinski temper. She hadn’t been with the Patriots for long, but she’d figured out early on that she could approximate the GM’s state of mind simply by the expressions on his secretary’s open face. Today, Taylor put the likelihood of an eruption at around seven on the Dembinski volcanic scale.
She stopped at her office to set down her laptop and briefcase before making her way down to the clubhouse underneath the stadium. Since it was barely after nine o’clock in the morning, she didn’t expect to see any naked ballplayers inside, though it never bothered her much when she did. The ribald comments she got when she ventured into the players’ domain had grown so old over the years that she barely registered them anymore.
Dembinski and Ault were huddled together in the locker room. One of the trainers was applying a long strip of white tape to the ankle the manager had twisted going down the dugout steps in Miami. When the GM spotted her, he got up, stalking over to hustle Taylor back out of the clubhouse, stopping a few yards down the corridor. The dank air in the dimly lit and narrow space—where player BO combined with the stink of chewing tobacco had permeated the walls and floor, giving it a stale, funky odor—always made Taylor hurry out of there as quickly as possible. But now she couldn’t flee.
“What the hell is going on with Locke?” the GM snapped. His fierce glare suggested that everything wrong in his world could be placed at Taylor’s door. “I gave the son of a bitch the chance to keep playing, and damned if he doesn’t shove it up my ass this morning. You had to have something to do with this, Taylor. Locke was fine on Sunday, but then he obviously turned around completely after he got back to town. I’m thinking that was no damn coincidence.”
Man, the guy looked like a raging bull on steroids. Taylor almost recoiled in the face of his blustering aggression.
Make that a nine on the volcanic scale.
“Jack and I talked after Miami,” he went on, not giving her the chance to defend herself. “And we agreed that Locke with a lousy arm is still better than Cruz at this point. It’s obvious we need the guy’s bat in the lineup every day. But now he wants us to put him on the f*cking fifteen-day DL and let him do the shrink thing—exactly what he said last week that he didn’t want to do. So, you tell me what changed his mind. And while you’re at it, tell me why my AGM is screwing around with a player behind my back, making the guy balk at what I told him was going to happen.”
His voice continued to rise with every word, bouncing off the concrete walls. He windmilled his arms, forcing Taylor to take a step back.
“Hell, we’re going to have to give him what he wants, too,” Dembinski complained. “He says something’s so screwed up that his career’s going to be over unless he gets help right now. The bastard even threatened to bring in the players’ union if I don’t let him go. And you know those clowns would make us go to arbitration if we say no to something like that. Plus, the media would paint us as heartless bastards if they got wind of this. It’s no-win situation for us. God damn it, Taylor.”
Dembinski was practically out of breath by the time he finished his rant.
Ryan had obviously been resolute and tough on the phone call, as Taylor had known he would be.
Drawing on the example of Ryan’s strength and resolve, Taylor now knew with perfect clarity—even though her stomach was twisted like a Philly pretzel—that it was time to stand her ground or she’d be finished as an effective manager with the Patriots. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong—hadn’t influenced Ryan’s decision in the slightest—and she wasn’t about to cower before her apoplectic boss.
“You’re dead wrong, Dave,” she said in a hard voice, her hands on her hips in a defiant pose. “I didn’t talk him into changing his mind about seeing Farley. That was one hundred per cent Locke’s decision. So, you can be pissed off all you want that I dated him, but don’t accuse me of doing something I had no part in.”
His look was one of pure disbelief at her fiery counterattack. “Yeah, right. Hell of a coincidence then, wasn’t it?” He threw up his hands. “Look, even if I were to believe you, you already knew that he’d changed his tune because you weren’t one bit surprised when I told you just now. So, you two are obviously still...talking.”
Dembinski invested that word with so much sexual innuendo and scorn that Taylor wondered whether she’d ever be able to get out of his doghouse, no matter what she said or did from now on.
Maybe not, but one way or the other, the world won’t end, either.
Suddenly and amazingly, Taylor realized that the world truly wouldn’t end if Dembinski canned her ass. She’d built up her job—and her future—with the Patriots as the only things that mattered in her life. Impressing her boss had been everything to her. Alienating him would have been tantamount to self-immolation. Yes, getting fired would be a significant setback to her career, but not standing up for herself—doing what she knew to be the right thing—would have even more devastating consequences. She would lose all self-respect and dignity, forever a lackey to a first-class jerk who was treating her like dirt.
And then there was Ryan, and the simple fact that she believed with all her heart that they deserved the chance to build a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Last night had certainly showed her that in vibrant Technicolor.
She blinked, feeling like she was emerging from a long, murky tunnel. Why did she have to be locked in to a career path that might annihilate her self-worth before she ever got near the brass ring? A path that would destroy any chance she might still have to be with the man she was falling in love with?
And then there was his daughter. The time she’d spent with Devon had opened Taylor’s eyes in so many ways, and she wasn’t about to fling those lessons away just to grovel at Dembinski’s feet. She would never stop loving her job and the game of baseball, but there had to be more to life than that.
“Earth to Taylor,” Dembinski said in a disgruntled voice. “What the hell is up with you, anyway?”
She pulled herself up to her full height, almost going up onto her tiptoes. Dembinski was tall and she wanted to look him straight in the eyes, or as close as she could manage.
“Dave, you’re completely full of shit on this, but one thing you said was right. Ryan and I are still talking. In fact, last night we talked practically until dawn. And, if I have anything to say about it, I intend to keep right on talking to him—for a very, very long time, I hope.”
She threw in the “practically until dawn” part to make the situation crystal clear, but it was an exaggeration. After they picked up Devon and went out for dinner, Ryan had taken his daughter home before returning to spend a few more incredible hours in Taylor’s bed. But by one in the morning, he decided he needed to go home in case Devon woke up in her new home and missed him.
Dembinski’s face flushed a dark red. “What? Are you f*cking serious? After everything that’s happened?” He snorted as he shook his head. “Doesn’t this whole thing tell you how impossible—how wrong—it is to be involved with one of your own players? Jesus Christ!”
Taylor studied him, amazed at how calm she felt. “No, actually it doesn’t. What it does tell me is that I was wrong and stupid to keep my relationship with Ryan—such as it was, or is—from you in the first place. I didn’t come clean on that, and for that I’m truly sorry, Dave. But in my defense, I tried my level best to keep my relationship and my job separate, and I don’t believe I compromised the interests of the Patriots one iota. Or undermined you, either.”
She almost said “not like you undermined me” but figured now was surely not the time to rub sandpaper over his ass about what he’d said to Ryan on the plane. But she might change her mind if he kept acting with such belligerence.
Dembinski stared at her silently for what seemed like a full minute. Taylor forced herself not to fidget. Actually, it wasn’t that hard. Now that she’d put it out there, it was up to her boss to decide how to react.
The ball’s in your court, dude.
“Damn right you should have come clean,” he grumbled, deflating a little. “Hell, Taylor, we talked about this in Clearwater. I told you there that it would be a big problem to get involved with a player, and you agreed. Remember that?”
Taylor remembered the conversation perfectly. But what she’d actually promised Dembinski that day was that she wouldn’t go free agent on him again—to use his terminology—and would make sure he was aware of anything she did that impacted the team.
“I do, Dave, and I agree that there are potential problems. But I never guaranteed that I’d stop seeing Ryan. I did guarantee that I wouldn’t go cowboy on you, and I haven’t. I had nothing to do with Ryan’s change of heart about going to Dr. Farley. You can believe me on that or not, but it’s the truth.”
He looked ready to argue, but she held up a restraining hand. “And you can also believe that I would never do anything to hurt the team or undermine you. That is just not in my DNA.”
Looking frustrated, Dembinski turned his back on her and walked away. But after a few steps he stopped, thought a minute, and then turned around and came back.
“Okay, I don’t think you’re lying to me. I just can’t believe we’re having this f*cking conversation. You know that if there’s one thing that means more than anything else to me its loyalty. From where I’m sitting, you’ve come up a little short on that measuring stick. You kept the relationship from me, Taylor.” He waved his hands in the air. “And how the hell am I supposed to feel completely comfortable with you anymore when I know that what I tell you might travel across a goddamn pillow into Locke’s ears?”
And that’s the problem in a nutshell, isn’t it? But not an insurmountable one, Taylor believed, if people trusted and respected each other. Could she and Dembinski ever find that level of trust and respect?
Taylor nodded, letting herself ease out of her aggressive stance. “I hear you, boss. And I’m sorry for not being more direct with you. I know I’ll have to earn your trust again, if you’ll let me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that happens. I can promise you that as long as Ryan and I are seeing each other, I’ll never be involved in anything to do with his status. And I won’t reveal anything to him that could be construed as confidential, especially anything you and I have discussed. In fact, I’ll avoid any and all discussion of player personnel issues with him.”
“Shit. You’re making this goddamn hard for me, kid.” He eyed her, looking almost morose. “I want to trust you, because I want you to succeed. Hell, I need you to succeed. I put my ass on the f*cking line when I hired you, as you well know.”
When she started to respond to that, he cut her off. “And I did it because I think you’re the best in baseball at what you do, and I’d hate like hell to see you using those skills to help some other team whip our ass. So, yeah, excuse me for getting so pissed off when things went off track.”
Taylor felt almost dizzy with relief. “I don’t want to go anywhere else unless you give me no choice. The Patriots have always been the team of my heart. And this is my dream job.”
He shot her a skeptical look. “Even when you’re willing to blow it up over some man?”
No, not just over some man. But over Ryan Locke? Yes.
It was more than that, though—it was about being happy in all parts of her life, not just at work. “Yes, Dave—if it has to come to that.”
Dembinski snorted. “Jesus, you must really be in love with the bastard.”
She gave him a self-deprecating shrug. “Well, I think you might be right about that.”