The Ace (12 page)

Opening the bathroom door, she stepped out and tried to tiptoe her way back to the bed just as the overhead light in the room flashed on.

Her hands flew up to cover her eyes as she yelped. “What the hell, Jerry? Are you trying to blind me?”

When she could manage more than a squint, she found him standing stark naked by the bedroom door with his hand on the light switch and a stupid grin on his face. Jerry was a big man—long and solid, strong and cut with muscle. His arms and shoulders bulked with strength, as did his legs; his chest was broad and chiseled, with a smattering of dark hair, and his stomach taut. He was so far and away the most delicious representation of the male species she had ever seen in the flesh that she had to keep her jaw from dropping.

Jerry chuckled as he watched her cowering in the middle of the room, unable to decide if she should cover her eyes or other areas with her hands.

“I wanted to see you naked.”

“Wha...you’ve seen me naked, you moron!”

He walked back over to the bed and reached out for her, pulling her down with him. “I know, but I forgot what you looked like.”

Karen rolled her eyes, but let him lay her down onto her back, quickly forgetting about her decision to throw him out, as he looked her over. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Is that what you look like under your clothes?”

“Funny.” She arched so her boobs popped out at him. “What’s my best feature?”

He pretended to think it over, his eyes passing over the full length of her before shaking his head. “I don’t know, I’d better not say. You might get mad.”

She frowned. “Why would I get mad? What are you going to say? My fingernails?”

Jerry grabbed her hand and looked at her French-manicured nails. “They’re nice, for sure, but no, that’s not your best feature.”

She pushed herself up and climbed on top of him while at the same time reaching out to grab a condom off the nightstand. She took her time, teasing and tormenting him as she slowly worked it down the length of him. “Don’t be an ass. What were you going to say?”

He cupped her butt in his large hands and hitched her up as he leaned against the headboard. “I don’t know. You’ll just call me more names if I tell you.” Jerry lifted Karen by her hips and lowered her down atop him, both of them closing their eyes as he slowly buried himself within her. “Mmmmm...” he grumbled deep in his chest.

She quickly shot up on her knees, breaking their connection, as she glared at him and poked his pec. “No! You were not going to say...”

His eyes widened innocently. “Say what?”

“If you were going to say my hooha, then you can kiss my ass on your way out.”

“Your
hooha
,” he repeated with a snort. “While I’m very fond of your hooha, no, that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh,” she said, as she guided him back into her and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t understand what the big secret is then.”

“Shhhh...” Jerry murmured as he guided her hips with his hands for a moment before pulling her down to claim her mouth. She moved over him as they kissed, slowly increasing the pace.

Just as she started to lose herself, he pulled back slightly so he could look directly into her eyes. “Look at me,” he commanded in a low voice.

Karen struggled, lost in the extreme pleasure of their lovemaking, but when he gently shook her head, she forced herself to look at him. His dark brown eyes were scorching, demanding her to keep eye contact. “You want to know what I think your best feature is?”

She nodded and again had to fight not to close her eyes as she felt herself on the edge of the precipice.

“Your eyes,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “They’re incredible. They speak to me and they make me want to do crazy things to you.”

Karen cried out and shuddered against him shortly before he followed her, his fingers digging into her hips as he held on tightly and groaned out his release. Her last thought as she floated down toward her pillow was that he could do all the crazy stuff he wanted, whenever he wanted. She wasn’t going to stop him.

Chapter Twelve

Relaxing in his downtown Seattle hotel room the day before his next start in the pitching rotation, Jerry stretched out on his bed with his head in his hands as he stared at the ceiling. He was ready. He knew the batters he would be facing on the Seattle team, knew what pitches they looked to make contact with and knew how he was going to mix things up.

His game plan was set and he remained confident in it, despite the lingering irritation—that was quickly morphing into uneasiness—that something was still off. He’d somehow managed to continue to squeak out some wins, but it was getting more and more difficult to put it out of his mind and keep the stress away. He could feel it building even as he tried to shrug it off.

Jerry had no idea what was wrong. His mechanics were solid, his arm angle was the same, he didn’t have any pain but he wasn’t anywhere near where he needed to be by this point in the season. He should be going deep into games, getting strikeouts and keeping his earned run average low, not struggling with it all.

He was unsettled, as if something had shifted and left a gaping hole, but he was clueless as to what that “something” was and he felt like an idiot when he realized he was focusing on a feeling. He was a guy and the last time he checked, he didn’t focus on feelings.

He still hadn’t vocalized his concerns to anyone, not really even knowing what to say. How did one explain the vague sense of something missing without having to hand over his man card?

So Jerry kept it to himself, unwavering in his decision to ride out the storm as quietly and under the radar as he could, and stuck only to conversations about mechanics with his coaches. He didn’t want to overanalyze it and was determined to keep to the basics, not wanting to change anything unless he really had to. More articles speculating as to what was wrong with him, wondering why his performance wasn’t what it should be, continued to pop up and he did his best to ignore them. Even in the short interviews that he gave after some games, the reporters always somehow managed to sneak in one question, asking if he was worried about the pressure from his new contract, and Jerry would try to laugh it off, refusing to give them anything to run with. He was going to continue to ignore it and act like everything was normal—no reason for concern. With each start, he put on his game face, tucked away the feeling of incompleteness and tackled it all with a renewed vengeance.

Maybe there really wasn’t anything wrong and he was just paranoid, more sensitive to idiosyncrasies since he felt like he had something to prove. Not only did he feel he needed to be dominating on the field in order to justify his large contract, but he had to do everything he could to get his team back to the playoffs. As the Ace, Jerry felt the responsibility landed squarely on his shoulders. Any failure to make it into the playoffs and win the pennant would be unacceptable, and it would be on him. They had gotten too far last year not to win it all this year.

Maybe he assumed too much accountability for the team—there was a limit to what he could do by himself—but it was his job to get them there, no matter how he did it. Not feeling one hundred percent wasn’t going to cut it.

Jerry sighed and tilted his head, catching a glimpse of the phone on the nightstand out of the corner of his eye. He turned toward it before frowning and wondering why the thought to call Karen had even crossed his mind. Sure, the night he’d spent with her had been incredible—so unbelievable that he found himself fantasizing about it days later—but that didn’t explain why that made him want to call her while he was away. Definitely not “friends with bennies” protocol.

If he did give her a buzz, she would probably laugh at him and call him whipped before hanging up the phone. What Jerry needed was a distraction. He was bored sitting in the hotel room with nothing to do and was just looking to find something to fill his time.

Just as Jerry sat up to look for someone to bug, the door opened and his road roomie, Chase, walked in.

“Hey, beautiful. Where have you been?” he asked as Chase strode past and threw his wallet and a plastic bag on the desk by the window.

“I was out trying to find a wedding gift for Maddie.”

“What’d you find?”

“Nothing.” Chase sat down on his bed with a sigh and rubbed his spiky brown hair in frustration. “I don’t know what to fucking get her. I just got a stuffed animal for Bree.”

“Get her jewelry. Chicks dig that.”

“I’ve thought about it, but I guess I just wanted something more personal.”

“An engraved dildo?”

Chase stretched out, clasping his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“So I’m constantly told,” he muttered under his breath.

“Oh, yeah? By who?”

“Karen calls me that all the time.”

At her mention, Chase leaned over onto his elbow and eyed his friend. “What’s going on with her, man?” When Jerry looked at him with a blank expression, he pressed further. “Come on. I won’t say anything to Maddie because I know if I do she’ll be planning your wedding for you.”

“My wedding, huh?” Jerry said with a crooked grin. “Yeah, not ready for that.”

“So there is something going on? You guys looked cozy at the engagement party.”

He sighed before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, sitting opposite from Chase. “This does not get repeated.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Jerry looked down and took a deep breath. “I think she’s hot.”

“Okay,” Chase said with a frown, clearly expecting more than that. “And?”

“And, nothing. That’s it.”

Chase shook his head. “She’s right. You are an ass.” His cell phone rang, cutting off any further questioning.

“Hey, baby. How are you?”

Jerry lay back down and closed his eyes, letting Chase’s conversation with Maddie fade into the background. He didn’t want to hear all the lovey-dovey stuff anyway, but when Chase mentioned Karen, his eyes flew open and his attention rocketed back to their discussion.

“Is she going to come over to watch the game with you tomorrow?” he heard Chase ask.

A moment passed where Jerry could hear Maddie talking, but he couldn’t make out her words.

“She’s going on a date?” Chase asked.

A date? She was going on a date? Already? He’d barely gotten on a plane and out of town before she’d something set up with some other guy. Jerry knew it shouldn’t bother him, they weren’t exclusive or anything, but he felt some resentment at the suddenness of it. Well, if she was going to play it that way, then he could too. There was no reason why he couldn’t find a nice young lady in each city to spend some time with while he was on the road. He ignored the voice that said he really didn’t want to, that he was content, and focused on the fact that apparently Karen wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t know why the idea bothered him, but it did.

He could hear Chase wrapping up the conversation, so he worked to remove any sign of irritation from his face. When Chase hung up with a rush of “I love yous” that made Jerry want to gag, he turned his head and grinned at his roomie.

“You guys are so disgusting,” he said.

Chase stood up and flipped him off. “You’re just jealous.”

Jerry laughed and rolled his eyes, but when the bathroom door shut behind Chase, his smile fell.

Was he jealous? Naw, he wasn’t jealous. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to feel tied down and stuck. He liked being free to do what he wanted and go where he pleased, when he pleased. He didn’t need to “report” in to anyone but himself.

He sat back up and eyed the phone.
Why do I keeping wanting to call her then?
he asked himself.

When the one answer that kept popping into his head was the one he refused to consider or even contemplate, he swore and told himself he was wrong. He wasn’t interested in her in that way; he wasn’t ready to be interested in anyone in that way. He didn’t want anything serious; he just wanted to have more hot, sweaty, amazing sex with her and that was it. His whole body was in agreement with that. He just had to convince his brain, and then everything would be all set.

* * *

Jerry stood on the small dirt mound in the middle of the stadium and stared down the hitter standing ready at home plate. The Seattle Sea Dogs were up by one run and they currently had two ducks on the pond—a runner at first base and another at third—in the bottom of the fourth inning.

He’d started out strong, consistently getting groundouts and hitting the strike zone hard, but as with his previous games, after three solid innings, something had gone wrong and everything was off. It was as if he was suddenly trying too hard to steer his pitches or blow them by the batter rather than just taking a breath and throwing as he should. He only had one out and had to get another two without them scoring any more runs.

The sun felt too hot, his uniform too stifling and the crowd too loud, but Jerry tried to ignore it all. He wiped some sweat from his brow and held the ball behind his back as he watched Matt go through the signs behind the plate, trying not to think about how much he’d rather be out of the sun and in the dugout with some cold water.

Jerry shook off the changeup and slider, looking for the fastball. He knew he could throw it right by this guy, but for some reason, he and Matt were not on the same page. After he’d shaken off everything, Matt finally asked for time from the home plate umpire as he trotted out to the mound.

“What’s up, Smutty?”

“I want the heater,” Jerry said from behind his glove.

“If you give this guy a fastball right down the middle, he’s gonna hit it. We need to give him something off.”

“I can blow it by him.”

Matt sighed, before giving Jerry a fist bump. “Fine, but bring it in real hot, Smutty.”

When Matt was back in position behind the plate, his catcher’s mitt outstretched, Jerry wound up and gave it all he had. The batter swung hard, but missed. Jerry glanced at the large electronic scoreboard out in left field and saw he’d only hit ninety-eight miles per hour with the last pitch.

That was it?
he thought with disbelief. It felt like it should have clocked over a hundred with the way his arm throbbed.

Matt went through the signs again, and just as before, Jerry called off the slider and the changeup before Matt finally threw down the sign for the fastball. He wound up, determined to make it invisible to the hitter, to top a hundred miles per hour, but the batter was waiting for it, expecting it and, with a loud crack, sent the ball soaring high into the outfield. Jerry watched as it sailed into the right field seats before closing his eyes. The crowd went wild, somehow growing even louder, like there were a million fans all yelling at once, ecstatic with the home team taking a four-run lead.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he kicked the dirt with his cleats. Agitated, Jerry walked off the mound and onto the infield grass, resisting the urge to yank off his cap and tug his hair.

He glanced toward the dugout and saw the coaches moving about. He had to stay in the game and he had to get the remaining outs, that was all there was to it. He’d gotten them into this mess and he’d be the one to clean it up. Jerry glanced at the bullpen and spotted a couple of his teammates tossing balls and warming up. There was no way they were going to pull him in the fourth inning. He knew he could make it to the eighth, at least, before turning the ninth over to the Closer. It’s what the Ace did.

Jerry climbed back onto the mound and set himself on the rubber, ready to toss out the next pitch, when Buck came out of his crouch and trotted up to the hill. Their head coach strolled toward them from the dugout and signaled to the bullpen, calling for the right-hander. Seeing this, Jerry hung his head as he took a deep breath, trying to quell his anger.

“I’m good, Skip,” Jerry said when Coach Brooklyn stepped up with his hand outstretched.

“Naw, come on,” their Skipper said as he waited patiently for the ball. “We’re gonna let Monroe close things out.”

“I’m telling ya, I’m good.”

“This isn’t a discussion, Smutty. Let’s go.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” he grumbled as he handed the ball over and made the long walk to the dugout.

As he descended the steps, his teammates stepped forward to slap his back, but Jerry wasn’t in the mood for any of it. He grabbed a towel off the bench, tossing it around his neck, and headed straight down the tunnel to the locker room without a backward glance, needing to be alone.

He slumped down in front of his cubby and went through a mental checklist, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He felt fine. His arm didn’t hurt, it wasn’t tired and there was no pain in his elbow or his shoulder. There was also no sign of any blisters on his fingers that might be causing his throws to be off or less effective. His grips were what they should be and he was standing in the same spot on the rubber as he had been for years. What the hell was going on? Why was he slowly starting to unravel with each game?

Jerry closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he unbuttoned his red jersey and pulled it out of his pants. What he needed was to stop thinking about it. All he was going to succeed in doing was freezing himself if he continued to overanalyze everything. Maybe once he stopped fixating on it so much, his mind would clear and he would get back to normal. He needed a distraction, something to take his attention off baseball, off his problems, and eyed his cell phone sitting on the shelf in his locker.

No
, he thought,
she’s not it.
She’s on a date
,
remember?

Before he did something he would regret, he grabbed his towel and headed for the showers.

* * *

“Well, that was a crappy game,” Karen said as she helped Maddie pick up the remains of their snacks from the family room table.

“I know,” Maddie replied as she walked into the kitchen. “Sorry you had to miss out on your date for that.”

Karen waved her off. “No biggie. I probably didn’t miss much.”

In fact, she hadn’t even wanted to go out on the date after spending the night with Jerry. She couldn’t get him out of her mind even days later; she felt as if she was still glowing, walking around with a permanent smile on her face. The cute bartender that she’d met the day before Maddie’s engagement party had promised her a night she would never forget, but he now seemed dull and predictable. He never would have measured up to Jerry...not to mention it felt a little wrong to go out with someone else.