Be My Baby Tonight (4 page)

“I didn’t? Sorry, Suze. Didn’t you eat at the
ball park? You love hot dogs at ball parks.”

Suzanna held on to his arm as she lifted one
foot after the other; stepping out of her high heels. “That was
hours ago, Tim, and I only had one. All I’ve had for hours are the
pretzels the bartender gave us, and you ate most of those.”

“You’re right, sorry,” he said, helping her
into the elevator. “Here’s another question, since there’s no
number on the key card. What floor, Suze?”

“Fifteen,” she said. “Fifteen-twenty-three,”
she concluded, grinning at him as if she’d just said something
brilliant. “See? I’m not drunk, Tim. I’m in fifteen-twenty-three...
two, fifteen-twenty-two.”

She held up two fingers. “Three.
Fifteen-twenty-three.”

“So much for waving you goodbye from the
elevator and going on up to nineteen.” The doors opened on fifteen,
and he took her hand, led her onto the floor.

“Pick one, Suze,” he said as he walked down
the hallway and she sort of
danced
along beside him, lazily
waving her high heels. “Two, or three?”

She stopped, giggled. “Does it matter? Why
don’t we just try them both?”

“Oh, boy, Suze is snockered,” Tim said
quietly, pulling the key card out of his pocket and inserting it in
fifteen-twenty-three. Always go with first instincts; that was his
motto. The light turned green, and he pulled down the handle,
opened the door. “Here we go, home again, home again.”

“Oh, you’re so smart,” Suzanna said, sliding
past him, trailing her fingertips across his chest as she went.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked,
flipping the light switch just inside the door, then following
Suzanna. “Suze?”

She’d stopped, just beside the king-size bed
that took up most of the room, dropping her shoes onto the floor.
Expense account, he figured instantly, looking around the room.
Nice enough hotel, but let’s not spring for anything too fancy,
spoil the hired help.

Yeah. Like he cared. He was in enough
trouble, looking at Suze in that body-hugging dress that ended a
good three inches above her knees.

Looking at Suze looking at the bed.

“Isn’t that funny? I’ve been here a week and
never noticed. Big, isn’t it?” she said, looking down at the
bed.

“Yeah, sure,” Tim said, rubbing at the back
of his neck. It was that. Big.

She turned to him, her smile sort of wobbly.
She pressed both hands, palms flat, against his chest, and sort of
leaned into him. “I have a confession to make.”

“No, you don’t,” Tim said quickly, deciding
that he was the sober one here. Well, the least drunk anyway.

“No confessions, Suze. They’re bad for the
soul.”

“No, silly, they’re
good
for the
soul.” Suzanna looked up at him, her huge green eyes sort of
dreamy. And deep, like some wild, bottomless ocean. A guy, if he
wasn’t careful, and sober, could drown in those eyes.

“Tell you what, Suze,” he said, ignoring the
fact that her lips were fuller than he’d ever remembered. Julia
Roberts lips, opening over a set of perfect white teeth that he’d
never known could be a turn-on for him. Teeth? Who would have
thought it?

“Hmmm?”

“What?” he asked her, swallowing down on the
sudden lump in his throat.

“You said you’d tell me what, Tim. So...
what?”

“Oh, right. Tell you what, Suze,” he said,
realizing that, somehow, his hands had found their way around her
waist, “we’ll have breakfast tomorrow morning—this morning—and if
you still want to make this confession, you can do it then.”

She closed her eyes, shook her head. “No. No,
Tim, it’s got to be now.” She slowly walked her hands up his chest
with the tips of her fingers, locked those hands behind his neck.
“I’ve always been crazy about you.”

Then she pressed her face against his
shoulder.

“You have?” Tim heard himself say. He thought
he’d sounded at least a little bit incredulous.
Good save,
Trehan. Like you didn’t know. Like you haven’t always known.
“Gee, Suze, I didn’t know.”

Her head moved against his shoulder. “I
didn’t want you to know. I was just good old Suze to you, Tim.”

He put two fingers under her chin, lifted her
head so that he could look into her eyes. “You were a great friend,
Suze. A great friend.”

She was silent for some moments, then took a
deep breath, let it out slowly. Looked at him. “I could be a better
friend,” she said at last, lifting her lips for his kiss. “I could,
Tim. Really.”

He put his fingers against her mouth. Man,
what was next for him? Sainthood? “No, Suze. It wouldn’t be fair.
I’d be taking advantage of you.”

And he hadn’t been with a woman in months.
Months. That damn Trehan curse thing. Oh, yeah. Sainthood, at the
very least.

Her eyes lost their glow. “You don’t want
me.”

“Oh, no,” Tim said hurriedly, giving a moment
to wonder if Suzanna was numb from the waist down. Otherwise, how
could she have missed the fact that he was pressed against her, and
he was hard, ready. “I want you, Suze. I do.”

“Great!” she said in her cheerful tipsiness.
And the next thing Tim knew, she was sort of falling backward with
her arms still locked around his neck, and he was falling with her,
and she was flat on her back on the bed, and he was on top of her,
being kissed by her.

He kissed her back.

He wasn’t nuts.

The kisses deepened, especially as Suzanna
moved beneath him, working on his belt buckle, pulling down his
zipper. For a lady who’d had a little too much to drink, she was
damn good with zippers.

So was he. The next thing he knew, Suzanna’s
dress was on the floor, and he was gulping over the sight of her
well-formed, long-waisted, flared-hip body in bikini-cut pink lace
panties and pink lace underwire bra.

Front-closing pink lace underwire bra.

He knew how those worked.

“Damn,” he breathed quietly as the hook
slipped open and Suzanna’s breasts, her perfect breasts, were
revealed to him.

He had to touch.

He had to kiss.

He had to... he had to... he—

“No,” he managed to say between quick,
labored breaths, “nothing with me. Are you okay?”

“Never better,” Suzanna said tipsily, hooking
her thumbs under the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down
over his hips.

“No,” Tim said, trying again. In between
running his tongue up the side of her throat, rimming it inside her
ear. “Are you...?”

She found him, wrapped her fingers around
him. He heard her moan, low in her throat as she raised her hips,
pressed against him.

“Oh, hell...” he said, and that was pretty
much the last thing Tim remembered until the grinning, laughing
baby came winging in from the pitcher’s mound.

“No! No!”

“Tim. Tim! Wake up, wake up! You’re having a
nightmare.”

He opened his eyes, not surprised to find
himself sitting up in yet another hotel bed, his arms stretched out
in front of him.

But Dusty’s voice had gone an octave
higher...

He turned on the bed and saw Suzanna sitting
there beside him, naked, the sheets tangled around her hips, her
dark red hair even more spikey, her breasts... damn, her breasts.
Those gorgeous breasts.

He remembered now.

“Are you all right?” she asked him, pulling
the sheet up to cover herself.

He swallowed, ran his hands through his hair.
“Yeah. I’m... I’m okay. How are you?”

She averted her head. “I’ve been less
embarrassed,” she said quietly, then turned to look at him once
more. “I... I really don’t do this... you know, what we did?
Really.”

Tim was still shaking off the remnants of the
dream, the nightmare, but he wasn’t so self-involved that he didn’t
know that Suzanna might be feeling a few regrets.

“No?” he said, pushing her back against the
pillows. “That’s a shame, Suze, because you do it really well.”

Her frown only deepened. “Not because I do it
a lot. I mean, I’m twenty-nine years old, Tim. I’ve... well,
I’ve... you know. In college there was this one guy. And maybe a
couple of times since. I’m only human. But I never meant to... you
know... with you.”

“You talk too much,” Tim said, capturing her
mouth with his own, even as he moved his hand to mold it around her
breast.

She didn’t want to think; he was pretty sure
of that. He didn’t want to think. Touching Suzanna, holding her, he
knew he didn’t have to think.

He couldn’t think.

But he could feel.

Her hands, tugging at him, pulling him close.
Her nails, digging into his back.

Her softness. The curves, the valleys, the
secrets that became his, yielded to him.

The scent of her, the taste of her.

The wild hot heat of her.

Her legs came up around his hips as he
plunged between her thighs, burying himself there, being reborn
there. Taking, giving, taking more, taking more.

He caught her soft, rather surprised
exclamation of pleasure with his mouth, held her as she went toward
the edge, then tumbled over with her, the two of them lying there,
holding each other.

Falling asleep once more, in each other’s
arms.

When Tim awoke at the sound of the alarm
Suzanna—practical, good old Suze—had probably set before heading
out to the game last night, he realized that he felt rested.
Actually rested.

The nightmare hadn’t come back.

The Trehan curse? Hell, maybe it was Tim “the
Monk” Trehan that had been the problem all along.

Then Suzanna snuggled against him, sliding
one long leg over his, and murmured in her sleep.

No, that wasn’t it. Close, but it wasn’t
it.

He’d found a solution; that was what he’d
found.
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Right?

He began stroking Suzanna’s arm, patiently
waiting for her to wake up.

“Hmm...” she said at last, her hand moving on
his bare chest, leisurely exploring.

And then, suddenly, her hand stilled; her
body stiffened. “Tim?” she said, her voice small.

“Still me, yes,” he answered, picking up his
head enough that he could plant a kiss on her hair as she lay
against his shoulder.

“Oh, God!”

Suzanna pushed hard on his chest, putting
space between them, obviously ready to leap out of the bed. But
then she hesitated for a second, reaching back to tug on the
tangled sheet, which she dragged off the bed with her, wrapping it
around herself—and leaving him totally naked and exposed to
her.

He could reach the bedspread if he wanted to.
Easily. But he didn’t want to. It was much more fun watching
Suzanna look at him.

She held the sheet with one hand, pressed the
other against her forehead as she looked at him. Sort of
goggled
at him.

“I... I thought I’d been dreaming.” Her eyes
were wide, her cheeks pale. “Oh, God, my head. My head is killing
me.”

“It’s called a hangover, Suze,” Tim told her,
grinning.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, flipping the end of
the sheet over her shoulder as she turned away from the bed. “And
put some clothes on. And go away. Please.”

“I’d rather go to Vegas,” he heard himself
saying.

“Fine,” she said, heading toward the
bathroom. “Go to Vegas. Just
go.”

He half leaned across the bed, so she could
hear him, so he could watch her walking away. “I don’t have another
game until tomorrow night. Instead of heading back with the team,
I’m betting Sam will let me fly to Vegas when I tell him I’m going
to get married.”

Suzanna had reached the bathroom, and the
door slammed on his last few words. But she’d heard him. He was
sure she’d heard him.

So he waited. “One... two... You’re
back?”

She stomped, actually stomped, toward the
bed. “What do you mean...
married?”

He was standing next to the bed now, pulling
on the briefs he’d found beneath a chair. “I mean married. You and
me, married. You know. Shoes and rice? The little woman? Legal sex?
Scratch that—great legal sex.”

The sheet safely wrapped around her, Suzanna
pointed both index fingers at him, then at herself, then at him
again. Then she got fancy. One index finger pointed at him, the
other at herself. Back and forth, alternating fingers.

He had this wild thought, remembering a quote
from the very quotable Yogi Berra: “He hits from both sides of the
plate. He’s amphibious.”

Tim grinned. Who wouldn’t have grinned?

“You? Me? You and me?” Those talented index
fingers were still flying. “Are you talking about you and me?
Married?”
Then her eyes narrowed. “Am I still drunk?”

“Maybe,” he told her, pulling on his slacks.
“So, you want to do it?”

Now the index fingers went in circles. “We
already did... it. Twice, as I remember.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, smiling as his head poked
free of his polo shirt. He smoothed his hair with his hands. “And,
this way, we get to do it again and again.”

The fingers stopped their dance as Suzanna
folded her hands together, pushed them against her stomach. “How...
romantic.”

Tim reached up, scratched at a spot behind
his left ear. “I play ball, Suze. I don’t make speeches. But we’re
good together, aren’t we? We’ve known each other forever, so it
probably came as much of a shock to you as it did me, but we’re
really good together. And neither one of us is getting any
younger.”

“Gee, real smooth, Trehan. Flattery will get
you everywhere,” Suzanna said, rummaging in the hotel dresser for
fresh underwear that she quickly hid beneath a fold of the
sheet.

Tim walked around the bed, laid a hand on
Suzanna’s shoulder. “Come on, Suze, marry me. It makes sense.”

“Because we’ve known each other since we were
kids?”

“That’s one reason, and a good one. Here’s
another. We like each other.”