Stealing Home

chapter 2



MARK PUSHED THE drink away and shook his head. He’d wondered how long it would take the brunette to make a move. For the past hour he’d watched her out of the corner of his eye. And for that hour, her eyes had been fixed on him.

It was something he’d become used to over the years—having ladies stare at him. Most of the time he enjoyed it as a major perk of being a professional athlete. Lately, for whatever reason, not so much. And he really wasn’t in the mood tonight to analyze why. Or really ever. He considered it a momentary glitch in his programming and nothing more.

So why was he vaguely disappointed that the brunette was making a move? And just what had that salute meant? It was such an odd gesture from a woman hiding in the corner. A salute was something that belonged at a wedding—charming and full of goodwill.

The woman looked anything but full of goodwill. In fact, she looked somewhere between scared shitless and royally pissed. How she managed to pull off those two emotions at the same time was oddly fascinating to him. She wasn’t his usual type, so why he was so intrigued beat the hell outta him. He usually preferred his women fake on the inside and out. It was safer that way.

Raking his hair back with a hand, Mark watched her and waited for her reaction. When it came, his eyebrows shot up and he felt a chuckle rise in his chest. It was the complete opposite of what he would have assumed she’d do.

In his experience, natural women like her had major attitude. It was that whole liberated feminist schtick. He’d more than half expected her to march over to him and demand to know what was wrong with her and her drink. Instead, she looked confused; she frowned and shook her head.

Then she stood up clumsily from the table, wobbled a bit, and began glancing around like she was looking for a purse or something. Apparently she couldn’t find it, or didn’t have one, because she threw her hands up and headed for the exit.

It was the oddest reaction Mark had ever seen.

And because it was so odd and unexpected, he was even more intrigued. Keeping his eyes on her retreating back, he pushed away from the table and stood. Then he whipped out his wallet and threw a twenty down.

Peter Kowalskin—Denver Rush’s ace pitcher—eyed Mark and asked, “Where you off to in such a hurry? The night’s still young and so are the women here tonight, bro.”

The team’s newest rookie, JP Trudeau, piped up, “Yeah, where are you going?”

Mark glanced down at the young Iowan and grinned. The kid was shaved bald as a cue ball from a bout of rookie initiation, but was sporting a black ski cap to cover up that fact. It didn’t help. At the ripe old age of twenty-five he looked like a boy band member, even with the nasty shiner.

Man, had he ever been that fresh-faced and innocent-looking?

Yeah, maybe. Back in the day before the major leagues when he couldn’t get play with a girl to save his life. But one good luck charm and a contract with the Toronto Blue Jays had changed all that. Now those days seemed almost surreal. Women weren’t hard to come by anymore, and hadn’t been for years.

Mark glanced at the rookie again, his thoughts turning back to the brunette. Hell, maybe he was becoming jaded in his old age. There’d been a time when a drink from any woman would have sent him to the moon and back. And it kind of sucked that he hadn’t felt that excitement in a very long time.

Turning his gaze just in time, he caught sight of her as she slipped out the back door. He needed to catch up to her before she got away. “I’m curious about something. I may or may not be back. Either way, don’t wait up.”

Kowalskin grinned. “Ah, the cute brunette that just left. Good choice, brother.”

JP’s eyes went huge. “I saw her, too. Great ass.”

Suddenly impatient, Mark tucked his wallet away and said, “If you boys don’t stop yapping, I’ll miss her.”

Why did it even matter?

Making his way through the bar with long, purposeful strides, Mark hit the back door and stepped out into the chilly Colorado night. As he scanned the parking lot, anxiety quickened his pulse when at first he didn’t see her. Then his eyes fell on her curvy figure near a small red car and he smiled. Anticipation and curiosity quickened his pace as he headed across the parking lot toward her.

A crowd exited the bar, their laughter and loud voices muffling his footsteps as he approached. “So, what? You buy me a drink and then skip out before introducing yourself?”

The brunette spun toward him on a gasp, one hand flying to her throat.

Biting back a laugh at her reaction, Mark crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “The logic of that is all wrong.”

He had to give her points. Even though she was obviously off balance, she rallied and replied, “Is that so? Just what would the logical step have been for me then, being as you rejected my drink?”

Good question. What had he really wanted her to do? Damned if he knew. Apparently tonight he was a bundle of contradictions. So he settled for an easy answer. “Come over and down the shot yourself. No need to waste good booze.”

“And then what? You would have been overcome with desire and whisked me back to your place?” The expression on her face told him clearly that she had her doubts.

So did he. “I might have. But the night’s young. It’s still a possibility.” And why in the hell had he just said that? She wasn’t even his type! He’d meant to deny her suggestion, not proposition her. Shit.

Obviously he’d had one too many drinks and his ability to reason was impaired. That, or he’d taken one too many balls upside the head in his career and it was finally catching up with him.

LORELEI PAUSED AND narrowed her eyes at the catcher. Had he just hit on her? It sounded suspiciously like the guy was inviting her back to his place. Lordy, she’d never had a one-night stand in her life. Wasn’t her style.

Her first instinct was to laugh at the thought of going home with a strange man. Especially since the man suggesting the tryst was the very one she planned on stealing from.

She opened her mouth to blow off the invite, but something occurred to her and she snapped it closed again.

Fate was handing her a cookie. And now she felt like smacking her forehead at her denseness. Why break in and steal from him when she could simply get invited back to his place as a one-night stand? Was it a viable alternative?

It was an even better idea than the original plan and with less guilt on her part. Besides, what was the point of big breasts if they couldn’t be put to good use at a time like this? Why not act like a tease and take advantage of the opportunity being presented to her?

Lorelei contemplated all her choices for a moment, turned them over in her mind to see all the angles. Pondered briefly which approach would make her feel less deceitful and guilty in the morning. Then she came to a conclusion: It was time to get her slut on.

Pasting a hopefully sultry smile on her face, she placed her hands on her waist and cocked her hip. “You’re right. The night is still so full of possibilities. It’d be a shame to waste it. What do you say we make it one to remember?”

Flat-footed in her sneakers, she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. Mark Cutter was an imposing man. But he wasn’t so imposing at the moment with that mildly shocked expression he wore. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to take him up on the offer. Well, too bad for him. The man should have kept his sexy mouth shut. Because now that she’d been presented with this avenue of attack, she was darn well going to take it.

Lorelei stared leisurely down his body and back up again. Even in the dark sweater and jeans she could tell he was all muscle and fit, gorgeous body. It wasn’t hard to appear appreciative—she most definitely was. A woman would have to be dead not to feel a temperature spike at what he had.

Bringing her eyes back up to meet his, she waited for him to respond to her boldness. It didn’t take long.

“By the way you bailed out of the bar I wouldn’t have guessed you for that type of woman.”

She wasn’t that type of woman, but she sure as hell was going to act like it tonight. “I’m complex.”

“Is that so?”

His gaze had dropped to her hands. Good. It meant she had his attention. Sliding them slowly over the soft cotton of her shirt, she moved them down her hips, then up to her ribs and back. “What do you think of my T-shirt? Do you like it?”

She felt a bit ridiculous saying that, but she was trying to be provocative. She had her slut on, darn it. They said things like that—all kinds of trashy pickup lines. And she had some good ones stored up.

Lorelei watched his gaze follow her hands before they broke contact. The corner of his mouth lifted and he smirked as he stared at the slogan smeared across her chest.

“Makes me wonder if you’re the kinda girl who really digs everything.”

Nice. Now she was a naughty slut. “Yeah? You think?”

He raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “It’s kinda hot.”

Lorelei smiled at him through her lashes and tossed out another line. “Take me back to your place, darlin’, and I’ll show you hot.”

His stare was amused and speculative at the same time. “Oh yeah?”

She had a killer comeback for that and pushed her chest out a little more, let her voice go all soft and husky. “I’ll ride you so hard you’ll walk bowlegged for a week.”

Mark Cutter’s smile was lightning-quick, twice as wicked, and she felt those darn butterflies in her stomach again.

“Wow. I thought only guys had cheesy pickup lines like that. Does that one ever work for you?”

They were cheesy lines, for sure. Velveeta-style, smooth and creamy. “You’ll have to let me know in the morning.”

His eyebrow lifted and he took a step closer to her. The butterflies turned into grasshoppers on crack and Lorelei had to fight the urge to scramble backward.

A big, warm hand cupped her chin and he said, “Is that so?”

A tremble vibrated down her spine at his touch, but she stood her ground. “By the way, I take my coffee with sugar.” Not that she had any intention of being there in the morning, but that one was true.

Heck no, she planned on being on her way home to Loveland with the money she was going to earn tonight. And she was earning it. It wasn’t so easy playing the tramp.

Mark tilted his head to the side and laughed as he studied her. “Okay, Ms. Rodeo. What’s your name?”

Lorelei took a deep breath. “I’m Fonda.”

“Fonda what?”

She looked him square in the eye and lied. “Fonda Peters.”

His hand dropped and so did his jaw. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re Fonda Peters?”

How she found the audacity to wink at him, she’d never know. “I am tonight.”

Mark shook his head and grinned as he took a step back. His voice sounded both exasperated and intrigued, if that was possible. “You’re too much. All right, you win. Get in the car, Fonda Peters. I’m taking you home with me.”

She shot him a smile and released a tiny squeal of delight. “Oh goodie.” Actually, she was delighted. Such a perfect opportunity. And it was so much better than breaking and entering—even if she did have a key. A little more law-abiding. Now all she had to do was figure out how to swipe his good luck charm without actually sleeping with him.

Good thing she had a car ride to figure that one out.