Leslie Kelly - Boys Of Summer - Sliding Home / Fever Pitch / The Sweet Spot

“I changed back into my work clothes.”

Which didn’t explain why she’d been dressed like a siren at the restaurant. As far as he knew, Diamond’s dress code was dress casual. Not dress sexy. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

“More than you did, I think,” she said, tilting her head back with one brow arched in challenge.

“Touché.”

“Why did you rush out, leaving your food behind?”

He answered her challenging question with one of his own. “Why did you leave and come here—alone—when you so obviously wanted to spend the night in someone’s bed?”

She sucked in a quick gasp. “That’s very…”

“Rude?” Crossing his arms, Riley leaned a shoulder against a shelf laden with trading card albums.

“I was going to say personal. But rude works, too.”

“Maybe. But it’s true. So, honey, why don’t you tell me what you were up to tonight? I think I’d very much like to know.”

Riley didn’t know why he was enjoying baiting the brunette—maybe because he was so confused about who she really was. The sultry woman in red? Or the cute, flustered young woman facing him?

To be honest, he wasn’t sure which he wanted her to be. But he still had to know. Had she been trying to pick up the Slammers star pitcher? Or Riley Kelleher, the man?

He’d like to think it was possible she hadn’t recognized him, even though she worked in a sports shop. Maybe he was reaching—grasping for what he wanted to be true—but it was at least possible. God, he hoped it was possible.

“Tell me, what did you want?” he asked, his voice lowered to a near whisper. Then, stepping closer, he added, “And why did you leave without getting it?”

* * *

JANIE COULDN’T BELIEVE Riley was standing in the back room of her store, now, when she was at her absolute worst. All the primping, trimming, polishing and highlighting she’d done with Callie and Babe’s assistance had been for nothing. Her makeover hadn’t gotten her what she’d been seeking: Riley in her bed. No, it’d simply gotten her Riley in her stockroom.

Of all the bad luck—and lousy timing—why did the man she’d so glaringly failed to seduce have to be the one to find her looking like a brainless twit in a pile of banana-yellow foam hands?

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his voice low and too intense for her peace of mind. As if he already knew the answer…that she’d been trying to entice him. The fact that she had failed so spectacularly kept her tongue behind her teeth.

“Maybe I’ll go first and answer a question for you,” he said when she didn’t reply. “If you’d come into Fever Pitch, I can practically guarantee you wouldn’t have gone home alone.”

She blew out a disbelieving breath. “Because there were a bunch of drunk, desperate guys in there?”

He straightened, his shoulders tensing as he eliminated the space between them in two long strides. “I meant because five minutes after I walked away from you, I was telling myself I’d made a huge mistake.”

Janie sucked in a breath, surprised by the heat—the raw honesty—in Riley’s voice. Not to mention the look in his eyes. That was attraction she saw there. The same attraction and interest he’d revealed briefly during dinner. Only now, it was magnified a million times over by his closeness. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, stepping even closer so his trousers brushed against her jeans.

Attraction? No. That wasn’t the right word. This was desire. There was no denying it, the man was looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes, his breathing slightly erratic.

It was heady, knowing he truly did want her. Had wanted her. And Janie didn’t quite know what to make of it. Considering her own body had gone completely molten the moment he’d come near, she couldn’t focus on anything but how good he smelled. How good the man would taste. How utterly amazing he would feel.

“Now tell me the truth. Why did you leave alone?”

Because you walked away from me.

The words were there, in her brain, but there was no way she was going to say them. Any more than she would admit that she’d started wearing her clothes a lot tighter, just on the off chance she’d run into him again now that she’d let Callie and Babe make her over into a baseball-star-attracting studette.

She didn’t need to say a word, because his eyes narrowed. “You weren’t going to settle for just anyone, is that it?” He lifted a hand and traced a fingertip across her jaw, then down her throat. His touch was simple yet potent, leaving her skin burning.

Stepping closer, until she could feel his breath on her face and the brush of his body against hers, he added, “Only me.”

She couldn’t deny it.

“You don’t seem like the easy type.” He sounded confused.

That got her vocal cords working again. “Definitely not.”

“But you were trying to pick me up. And when I left, you dropped it.”

Definitely right.

He stared intently at her eyes, then dropped his gaze, taking in the extra tight shirt and painted-on jeans that Callie had convinced her to buy. His jaw flexing, he murmured, “You know, you look familiar. I just can’t imagine you’re someone I would have forgotten meeting.”

Oh, if only he knew. How little the man must have truly looked at her the two times they’d met at the nursing home. It had only been six weeks since he’d last seen her. And she hadn’t changed that much. Just her clothes. Hairstyle. Contacts. Makeup.

Okay. Maybe she had changed a bit and could give him a break.

“Now, back to my question,” he said, a note of urgency—and, if it didn’t seem so crazy coming from a superstar, maybe even vulnerability—in his voice. “Tell me why you were after me.”

His words were a cross between a firm demand and a sweetly purred plea. And the genuine depth of interest in his tone reminded her of why she’d come up with the crazy seduction scheme to begin with. Because, whether she’d had the confidence to admit it, deep inside, she’d knew she’d been right all along. There was something between them. Heat. Awareness. Attraction.

He might not have acted on it. But that didn’t mean it did not exist. “We’re standing here like this and you really need to ask?” she said, leaning closer, falling deeper into the magnetic well of sensation between them.

His hand moved to the hollow of her throat and he traced the back of his fingers across her collarbone. Janie hissed, wanting more. Wanting to press into him and invite him to touch her much more thoroughly. Wanting his hands and his lips and his tongue and that mouthwatering ridge of arousal she could feel, hard and huge, against her hip.

She moaned as her nipples hardened against the cotton of her shirt. The sensual reaction wasn’t caused merely by his touch, his crazy-sexy whispers or the feel of his warm breath against her cheek. But also because of her certainty that everything she’d fantasized about was real.

Riley Kelleher wanted her. Badly.

Riley glanced down, obviously able to tell she wore nothing beneath her shirt. His jaw tightened and his breathing grew more labored. For a second, Janie thought he was going to give up the talk and proceed directly to action. But she wasn’t that lucky.

“I know why you want me now,” he admitted, his mouth so close his lips brushed her temple, hinting at a kiss she could almost taste.

God, she was so lost.

“I want to know why you wanted me then, from the minute you walked into Diamond tonight. If you weren’t out to pick up any guy who made you hot—only me—tell me why. I need to know.”

She was losing the fight to keep her sanity with every featherlight breath, each delicate caress on her skin. Losing thought and reason and discretion. Which was why she finally leaned up and said, “Would you please just shut up and kiss me?”