Bring The Heat: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Summer Book 1) (3 page)

I turned to face the front doors and the air evaporated from my lungs as Robby entered and I saw that the meathead in question was none other than Cody Wright. The pitcher that actually wielded the power to make me want to watch a baseball game for more than thirty seconds.

And also, the reason why I was carting around a busted up baseball in the bottom of my vintage bag.

Cody was even hotter than the image blasted on the giant billboard. He was right at Robby’s height, so somewhere between 6 and 6’1. Solidly built with killer arms that filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt with panty-dropping results. His dark hair was just long enough to make my fingers ache to weave through it. Full lips led to a charming smile, and as he approached, I noticed a cleft in his chin that I hadn’t noticed before.

And then there were his arresting eyes that were a mix between forest and army green.

Heart. Fucking. Stopping.

“Hello ladies,” Robby said, sweeping over to the bar. He and Paris got tangled up immediately and Cody and I both found other places to look as they exchanged several audible kisses. When they broke apart for oxygen, Robby made the introductions. “Chelsea, this is Cody Wright. Cody, this is Paris, my fiancée and her best friend Chelsea Brooks.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Cody drawled.

Well shit. His voice was just as sexy as the rest of him. Thick and commanding with honey smoothness.

Stop staring, Chelsea.

“Thanks for letting me crash your party,” he added after shaking Paris’ hand.

He reached for mine and I took it firmly. I refuse to be one of those girls with the weak-ass handshake. But as soon as our palms met, my heart raced and my arm went limp. Cody’s hand was smooth, strong, and had a hint of calloused skin that reminded me he was a strong athlete, and I went a little weak in the knees. Or was that because of the way his green eyes locked with mine and lit up? Or was it the way his full, kissable lips spread into a quirked grin?

“You’re welcome any time, Cody,” Paris replied. She patted at the bar stool she’d just abandoned and scooted herself up into Robby’s lap on the seat beside it, nearly giving the bar a pretty decent show before fixing her skirt. She giggled in Robby’s ear and his finger disappeared under the hem.

Good grief. Thank goodness the swanky restaurant was dimly light.

Then again, as I glanced over at Cody, who slid into place beside me, I thought maybe a little more light might be a good thing.

Cody

What started out as one of the shittiest nights of my life was taking a quick turn in the other direction. Chelsea Brooks’ sweet smile, wide doe-eyed stare, and fidgeting fingers were all pointing to my night having a happy ending after all. I just needed a few minutes to size her up, locate the objections, and close the deal.

I’d taken some marketing classes in college. It was amazing how many of the lessons applied in the pursuit of the fairer sex.

Bedroom, boardroom, or front office contract negotiations, it was all the same to me.

I had something Chelsea wanted. Something she looked like she needed.

The bartender approached me and I ordered a Guinness. Normally, after a bomb game like that, I’d need something stronger but I wanted to keep it together so I could remember every detail of Chelsea and the night that lay ahead of us.

“What are you drinking?” I asked her, gesturing at her empty tumbler.

“It was a hurricane but I’m good. I’m switching to sparkling water.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “The night is young.”

She laughed. “Exactly. I have a lot of work to do when I get home. If I get silly now, I’ll go home and crash and wake up tomorrow in a bad mood.”

I laughed, surprised by her answer. “Work? On a Saturday night? Nah, that ain’t right. It’s time to live it up a little.”

She pursed her lips. “I work from home.”

“What do you do?” My Guinness arrived and I took a long sip off the top.

Chelsea tucked a strand of her shoulder length hair behind her ear. “I’m working on programming an app right now. I went to school for computer engineering and two years ago, my final project, a children’s game for smart phones kind of blew up and that success rolled into an investment to create a follow-up.”

I cocked my head at her. “Really?” Chelsea nodded and fingered the thin black straw in her empty tumbler. I looked past her and flicked my eyes to the bartender. “Another one for the lady!”

“No, no,” she protested, her dark eyes going even wider. “I really can’t.”

“Hey, if I can show my face out in public after that clusterfuck of a game, you can have a drink with me, all right?”

The bartender swooped in and swapped her empty tumbler with a fresh one before she could object again. The foamy pink drink was exactly what I expected her to drink. Light, fruity, sweet.

Exactly what I needed.

She pushed the drink aside and leaned over the back of her chair where a large, tan bag was hanging by the shoulder star from the corner. She fished around and popped back up with a busted up baseball in her hand. “You think you’re having a rough night? This obliterated my windshield.”

“Shit.” A hot rush of humiliation flooded over me. The memory of Delgado smashing that pitch out of the fuckin’ park had been playing on repeat in my mind from the moment I walked off the field to the moment I walked into the sushi joint and my eyes landed on Chelsea. Then a new set of images had taken hold.

She dropped the ball into my open palm. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, sugar. Do you want me to autograph it for ya?”

“Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“I did.”

“Are you always an ass?”

“Ouch!”

A couple of people passed behind our seats and the movement distracted me. I waited to pick up the conversation until they were gone, but suddenly a couple stopped cold and the man leaned in between Chelsea and me to look at the banged up ball. “Is that the ball from the parking lot?” His onion breath made Chelsea rear back.

The woman on his arm stopped to gawk too. “Oh my gawd! We heard the alarm going the entire time we were in line to get out of the lot!”

Chelsea grimaced. “Yeah. Looks like the Warriors and my Mazda are having a rough night.”

The man glanced at me and I tugged my baseball cap lower. But it was too late. He pointed his sausage-like finger at my chest. “Wait a minute! You’re Cody Wright!”

Shit.

“Oh my gawd!” The woman bounced, her tits ready to flop out of her low cut neckline. “Can I have your autograph?”

The man at her side growled. “Autograph? Shit, Tina. Ya crazy bitch. This guy lost the game for us tonight. If we’re lucky, he’ll be cut from the team before he can do any more damage. Sorry about your car, lady. Shitty luck.” He tugged on the woman’s arm and she followed after him like a lost puppy dog.

“Cody Wright’s here?”

“Fuck him! Pitched Delgado a grand slam!”

I rolled my eyes to myself at the hostile whispers spreading through the restaurant. I should have gone back to my hotel. I could be halfway through a fifth of something strong by now, ready to pass the fuck out.

“Hey, go back to Holdenville, asshole!” a jeer came from somewhere over my shoulder.

Robby pulled himself away from his fiancée long enough to come to my defense. He stood from his stool. “Hey y’all, chill out. It was his first night!” He raised his hands to shush the crowd. “Let’s all pipe down. Next round’s on me.”

The tide shifted and Robby’s offer seemed to placate them all.

“Thanks, man,” I said once he sat back down and ushered his hot fiancée back onto his lap.

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Anytime, man! The deck was stacked against you tonight.”

That was one way of putting it. I had no idea why Coach Robinson had waited so long to put me into the game. Maybe he thought I’d strike the guy out and be the overnight hero. After all, I’d been brought back over from the minors in Holdenville for a reason. The Warriors needed fresh blood or else they’d be forced into doing a complete rebuild and risk losing the fan base they had worked so hard to cultivate.

A big moment was exactly what they needed and I fucked it up.

“Damn, people. It’s just baseball,” Chelsea muttered to herself once the angry crowd quieted down.

I laughed. “Just baseball, huh?”

She shrugged and took a sip from her straw. I stared at her bubblegum pink lips wrapped around the tiny straw.
Giving me ideas, girl.
“I’m just saying, it’s a game, right? It’s not life or death.”

I bobbed my chin. “All right. Fair enough.”

The fan fiasco over with, Robby was back to getting busy with his woman right there at the bar, his hand mysteriously missing from action somewhere up her skirt. I angled my body away from them, not really needing front row seats to the show. Besides, the chestnut haired beauty beside me was far, far more interesting.

“They’re nauseating aren’t they?” she asked, a tiny smile pulling at her lips.

I laughed. “I do feel like I clicked on the wrong web link.”

“They’re always like this,” she said, grimacing after taking a peek over my shoulder. “I keep waiting for this phase to pass but so far…no such luck.”

“We can still hear you, ya know?” Robby said, his voice muffled by Paris’ long hair as he nibbled up the side of her neck.

Paris giggled along.

Chelsea rolled her eyes.

“Listen, baby, anytime you wanna bail, you just say the word and I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go,” I drawled, getting closer to her so the words could be a whispered suggestion.

Chelsea reared back. “Excuse me?”

I laughed at her scandalized expression and shrugged. “Just saying, we can ditch these two lovebirds and go have some fun of our own.”

She made a show of glancing at the silver watch on her slim wrist. I followed the skin up to the edge of her black tank top and saw a hint of pink on her shoulders. She wasn’t anemically pale, but she didn’t look like she spent much time in the sun. Like the kind of girl who wore a cover up and massive hat to the beach. Chelsea flipped her watch back and met my eyes—as soon as I peeled them off her bare arms. “It took you five minutes.”

“To do what? Sweep you off your feet?”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow. You do think you’re slick, don’t you?”

“I’ll take it that you don’t share my opinion.” I grinned at her, refusing to let her win the game we were playing. It was way too much fun to give it up now.

Chelsea flicked her brown eyes skyward and I imagined her lying in my bed, her eyes rolled back like that while I went to work between her sweet thighs. “Listen, I know you think you’re hot shit and that any woman would be lucky to have your attention. Which is why this next part might come as a surprise, but…I’m not interested.”

“You into girls or something?”

“No!”

“Too bad. That’d be fuckin’ hot.”

She made a noise like a steaming tea kettle and moved to push off of her bar stool. “I’m done here.”

“Hey, hey, come on, I’m just playing with you.”

She ignored me and went around me to break up the happy couple. “Paris. Keys.”

I smirked as Paris’ eyes fluttered open and Robby pulled away from whatever he’d been whispering in her ear. She looked genuinely startled by her surroundings. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone so lost in their own world they legit forgot where they were. It was hilarious. Even more so because it pissed the hell out of Chelsea.

“Keys!” she demanded, all but stomping her foot.

I glanced down. Flats. Damn, this girl needs to loosen up.

The black pager on the counter started buzzing, soft red LED lights flashing.

“That’s our table!” Paris said, hopping off of Robby’s lap.

Chelsea grit her teeth. “I’m not staying. Paris, please just let me take your car so I can go home.”

I leaned back against the bar and watched like it was a reality show. Paris untangled herself from Robby and wrapped her arm around Chelsea’s shoulders. “Come on, babe. Stay for dinner. It’ll be fun and you know you want some California Rolls.”

Chelsea shook her head. “I’ll grab something on my way home. I don’t want to stay here…” she flicked a dark glance at me and Robby and Paris both followed her gaze.

Robby slapped my back. “Come on, Chels, cheer my buddy up. He’s had a rough night.”

Chelsea looked from Robby to Paris and then back to me. When our eyes met she froze and I saw her suck in a sharp breath. She wanted me. It was obvious. I flashed a smile. “I promise to behave myself, Chelsea. Come on, let’s have a nice dinner.”

She sighed. “Fine. But don’t even talk to me!”

We all filed out of the bar and then followed the hostess to a table in the middle of the restaurant. I would have preferred a seat somewhere in a corner to keep from another scene breaking out like the one in the bar, but no one even glanced our way as we got situated and I relaxed.

Chelsea let me pull out her chair and took her seat beside me. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” I handed her a menu and soon enough the four of us got to talking about a movie we’d all seen, and beside me, Chelsea’s edge wore off.

She was a helluva lot more fun with a couple of drinks in her.

“So, tell me about the two of you. How’d you snag this hottie?” I asked Robby, knowing full well that his bank account had probably done most of the convincing. Sure, Robby was a good looking dude, but if I was a betting man, I’d have said that Paris wouldn’t have given him a second night if he weren’t a major league ball player. No way.

Robby laughed, his smile good-natured. “We met at a New Year’s Eve party. We spent all night eye fuckin’ each other across the room and when the ball dropped, we beelined for each other to get that midnight kiss—”

“And we haven’t stopped since,” Paris concluded, stopping to plant another one on her man. “Then, this year, for New Year’s he took me away and dropped this baby on me right in the middle of Times Square.”

She flashed a massive diamond ring, wiggling her fingers to set off the sparkle.

“Impressive.”

Chelsea smiled but I could tell from her expression that she’d heard this story one too many times.