Spring Training

Garrett felt it like a sucker punch to his gut. He’d hurt the son of a bitch who’d put that look on her face. And he’d enjoy it too.

Garrett wrapped his hands around her biceps, resisting the urge to pull her to his chest. “Baby, what it is? Was someone bothering you?” He glared around them, searching for anyone who looked in need of a good ass-whoopin’.

She laughed then. Laughed so hard he was forced to release her as she grabbed her stomach and curled over. Male instinct shot off warning bells in his head. Women who laughed like that were on the verge of something … not fun. He’d seen it before. His sister had laughed like that once after his brother-in-law had been killed. The fallout hadn’t been pretty.

“Princess.” He moved to wrap an arm around her back, his intent to lead them somewhere more private. Whatever was going on, he was certain she wouldn’t want to share it here, in a busy lobby, with a restaurant full of reporters and cameras around the corner.

“Stop calling me that.” She jerked away and sneered up at him. “My father knows.”

Garrett felt the blood drain from his face. Fuck. He kept his voice low. “What does he know, Jessa?”

“Are you going to stand there and tell me you haven’t seen the paper today?”

Garrett didn’t appreciate her haughty tone. Frustration fired his temper. Why the hell was she attacking him?

“As a matter of fact, I’m going to tell you that very fucking thing. I’ve been busy all day, Jessa. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“We made the cover of the sports page.”

He took a step back, his brain turning to instant replay. They’d been careful. Hadn’t they? How bad could it be?

“Oh, it’s bad, Garrett,” Jessa said, having read his expression. “Stolen moment of intimacy, New York’s newest hotshot feeds boss’s daughter pastries.” She mocked a headline, adding, “film at eleven.”

“Shit.” He refused to panic. Drawing on the focus he used on the field, Garrett forced his shoulders to relax, willed down the knot in his throat.

Christ. He should’ve called TJ the minute he realized his feelings for Jessa. He should’ve trusted himself for the man he was instead of acting like a complete jackass, forcing them to act as though they’d had no right to be together. For a guy who hated playing games, he’d done a helluva job where Jessa was concerned.

“That being said, it seems my father’s main concern is that I’ve distracted his precious golden boy from his job. Funny, he didn’t seem concerned in the least that his golden boy violated his daughter.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw set in anger.

“Hold up. You’re mad at me?” Obviously, TJ’s reaction had hurt her, but Garrett didn’t see how that was his fault.

He leaned in, putting them nose-to-nose. “If I can’t call you princess, then you will damn well stop referring to me as golden boy. And I didn’t violate you. I fucking worshipped you.”



Her eyes softened a bit before she pushed away from him again. “Did you know?”

Garrett was getting tired of her snapping at him.

He felt as if he’d stepped into an alternate reality. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and damn if it didn’t rip his guts to shreds. This isn’t how he’d imagined their evening. He wanted her screaming in pleasure, not in anger. And not in the middle of the fucking lobby.

“Did I know what?”

She grabbed his arm, a little too forceful for his liking, and tried to drag him along behind her. “Jessa.” He pulled her to a stop, the leash he’d held on his temper loosening. “Slow the fuck down and tell me what the hell is going on. Where’s your dad?”

Jessa looked around. “Really, Garrett? You want to do this here? In front of all these people?”

Parker Kincade's books