He didn’t answer, and she didn’t hear the shower running, so she went out back and found him standing at the edge of the sand staring out over the ocean. She walked outside and stood at the edge of the deck, watching him.
What a picture he presented in his bare feet, shirtless, the sun beating down on him while the wind blew his hair. She wondered what he was thinking as he stood there examining the waves. It had been a rough day, both physically and emotionally. Was he thinking about that, irritated with her, or just pondering the future of his career? Was he thinking about her?
She’d definitely thought a lot about him today, about more than just his shoulder.
She’d had his body last night, had felt every rock-hard ridge and plane. He’d been inside her. He’d tasted her and had made her come—more than once. They’d just begun mapping each other’s bodies, and no matter how much she talked the talk about professionalism and how they should stay away from each other, the bottom line was, she felt cheated. There was so much more she wanted to know, to find out about Garrett, his wants and needs, what turned him on and what got him off.
She gripped the edge of the railing, desire igniting inside her like a flash fire. She blazed hot for Garrett. No man stirred her as quickly as he did. Just one look, one thought, and she was consumed. All rational thought fled, and every wall she’d so carefully constructed throughout the day crumbled around her.
He was right. What difference did it make if they had sex? She knew her job, knew what it would take to get him ready to pitch. She could do her work efficiently and the two of them could still have a smoking-hot sexual relationship.
She’d be insane to walk away from something like this. She knew he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. He had his career to resume once his rehab was over with. That would consume all his time. And she sure as hell wasn’t looking for a committed relationship. She was building a career that had been her primary focus for years.
So they both worked for the same team. It wasn’t like she was going to be engaged with him on a one-on-one basis after he finished his rehab and the season started. Unless he was injured, they wouldn’t have much contact at all. She could protect her job, and no one would ever know about the two of them.
She was an adult. So was he. They could manage their sexual relationship. She could manage it.
She kicked off her shoes and stepped off the porch.
EIGHTEEN
A STORM WAS COMING. GARRETT HAD BEEN WATCHING the clouds gather, darkening the sky and shifting the atmosphere from bright and sunny to ominous and gray.
He knew the feeling. His own mood had darkened throughout the course of the day. But that was on him. Not on Alicia. He knew she was out on the deck watching him. He didn’t turn around, didn’t go to her, figured if she had something to say she’d come talk to him.
He’d kept things professional between them today. That’s what she asked for, and he knew her job was important to her, so he did his best.
It was hard. Hell, she made him hard. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he wanted more of her, and a lot more of what they’d had last night. But if she didn’t want that he’d have to respect it.
The problem was, he knew she was torn, and it would be easy to get her to change her mind. He could be persuasive if he put his mind—and his charm—into it. But that would make him an asshole, and he’d like to think he wasn’t one. So he backed off and kept things between them business only. If he had to go through this therapy thing with a throbbing hard-on, that was his problem. Eventually, he’d get over it.
Besides, he had bigger problems to deal with than whether or not he’d ever get Alicia in the sack again. Like getting himself on the pitcher’s mound. It was time he started concentrating on that.
So when he caught sight of Alicia stepping off the porch and coming toward him, he figured she was going to drag him inside and perform some kind of stretching torture on his arm. He turned to face her, waited for her to say something.
She didn’t. A strong gust blew in from the ocean, slapping strands of her hair across her face. She didn’t bother to push them away. Her gaze was fixed on his, and he read the intent in her eyes. He recognized that heat, because it had been boiling inside him all day long. Her desire crashed into him with a force stronger than the wind.
He didn’t understand the sudden turnaround. He could question her, especially since she’d been the one to put up the wall between them. Now she was tearing it down?
But he realized he really didn’t give a shit why she’d changed her mind. He only needed to know one thing.
“You sure about this?”
“Yes.”