Calling It (18 page)

“Mom! Dad!
Sean!
” At least her brother would have some sense.

Which he did. Too much of it, in fact. He took the phone out of their mother’s hand, positioned it so that Dorie could see that, as her mother had said, practically her entire family—right down to the niece and nephews—was sitting at the huge table in the private room in the back, all staring expectantly at Dorie as Sean laughingly backed away.

“Oh, Mommy,” Dorie could hear her niece saying in a hushed yet overly loud whisper in the background. “Auntie Luce looks like a princess.”

“Not with those shoes,” Sean muttered, his arms folded across his chest.

“So what’s your big news?” her father was saying. “I gotta go back to the kitchen, so you’d better spit it out.”

Right. Dorie took a deep breath and once again deliberately did not look at Nate. “So there’s this guy...”

The questions erupted before she could get even those few words out. Most of them had already been asked, the are-you-pregnant one being the clear favorite. And when Dorie once again gave a resounding, “No!” there was clear puzzlement as to why she’d be calling otherwise, since there wasn’t anything else that could be quite as momentous enough to call right now.

“Is he...” Her mother looked over at her father with concern. “Is he a Yankees fan?” With an apologetic look at Claudia, she added, “Sweetie, you know your father has a hard time with that.”

Sean falling for a Yankees fan had broken their father’s heart. Literally, at least according to Dad. After Sean’s announcement that he was marrying Claudia, their father had gone into cardiac arrest. Though the doctor insisted it had everything to do with the blockages in his arteries after eating pizza almost every night for fourteen years, the family was suspicious. And Claudia, after spending almost a whole year in church for penance, was now converted.

“No, Mom.” Dorie checked on Nate. To her relief, he appeared to be amused. “But he is, actually, really into baseball. Which is why I’m calling.”

Her family was looking at the phone expectantly.

“He’s kind of, well, I think you’ll recognize his name.” Understatement of the year, given that she’d spoken of him nonstop from the ages of thirteen to seventeen. “He’s pretty...famous.” Her heart started pounding. “And there’s a little bit of a chance that you might hear about it, so I wanted to make sure that I was the one who told you first.”

“Then maybe you should actually tell us,” Christopher yelled from the back of the room, his grin far too wide and evil.

“Yes.” Dorie nodded her head. That’s exactly what she was planning to do. “I’m, um...”
What?
Seeing?
Sleeping with?
The woman-of-the-moment for?
“I’m...I guess you could say that I’m going out on a date with him, um, Nate. Nate Hawkins.”

There was a moment of stunned silence. And then nearly every single person in the room burst into laughter. Sustained laughter. So much so that she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

“Great one, sis!”

“Best. Punk. Ever.”

“I just snarfed my spaghetti. Spaghetti just came out of my nose. Did you see that? Did anyone see that?”

Dorie glared at Nate. This was all his fault.

No longer nervous and now supremely irritated, Dorie stood up. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” she shouted into the phone. Oh, how she wished she had one of those ancient phones where you could slam the receiver down in its cradle. People were actually crying they were laughing so hard. She’d been thinking she might have him wave to everyone but there was no way in hell they were getting that now. “I have to go!” She couldn’t help but add, “And I love you all, damn it!”

“Oh, sunshine,” her mother said, having recovered enough to only hiccup once as she spoke. “You’re my favorite daughter in the whole world. Have a wonderful time in Chicago. Call me when you’re back at home.”

Okay. So maybe she didn’t blame them. Even she found this situation entirely laughable in a ludicrous sort of way.

“They’re adorable,” Nate said, coming over and wrapping her in his arms. The fact that he was shaking with his own muffled laughter did nothing to help matters. At least he was trying to hide it, Dorie supposed.

He took the phone from her and she expected that he’d put it on the dresser or throw it on the bed. But instead he sat down on the bed, pulled her into his lap and held it up over them. It was second nature for her to try to snatch it back—that’s just what you did when someone decided to play keep-away. But the moment she looked up for it, he snapped a picture.

When she leaned her head back to look at him, he bent down, kissed that one spot on her neck, then snapped another one.

“Mmm,” he said gruffly. “That’s the one I’m keeping.” He pushed a few buttons, sending it to himself, and then smiled as he handed the phone back to her.

It wasn’t until ten minutes later, when they were in the basement of his building waiting for the car the doorman had arranged, that Dorie had a chance to look at the pictures he’d taken. The one he’d kept for himself wasn’t anything she’d be sending home, that was for damn sure. With her eyes closed and her head thrown back and Nate practically devouring her skin, it looked carnal. Primal. Freaking amazing.

Dorie sighed. Leave it to Sean to ruin her I-am-woman moment with an incoming text.

I don’t give a flying fuck who he is. If he even thinks about touching you, I will take that heel and ram it through his balls.

Chapter Nineteen

Dorie’s family was a kick. That was a damn good thing, because they clearly weren’t the type to hold back their opinions. The texts had started coming in about the time Nate and Dorie got into the elevator. One after another, through forty floors—basement parking levels included—a five-minute wait for the car he’d called and, now, three cycles of the light at Chicago and State thanks to a bus that had stalled in the intersection.

Hell, if traffic didn’t ease up, they’d be late, which would piss Pete off. If it wasn’t for Nate’s promise to avoid the media, he would have just gotten out and walked the half a mile.

Well, the media, plus there was no way she’d be able to cover the distance in those shoes.

Holy shit, those shoes.

“Christ,” he muttered, shifting as his already uncomfortable meet-with-the-boss pants grew that much more so.

“Sorry,” she murmured, misinterpreting. She shrugged apologetically as she held up her phone. “The shock’s wearing off.”

“Mmm,” he said, happy to turn his attention back to something a little less hard-on inducing. “I can see that.”

And he could. His eyesight was excellent and she wasn’t making much of an attempt to hide the messages. He’d caught more than a few:

JCD: U weren’t serious were u?

Mom: HI m3y Buechler baby!!!

Mom: *beautiful

JCD: Holy shit. Christo just told us ur 4 real WTF????

Tommy: !!!!!!!!!!!!

Shay: Be careful with his knees. I’ve got $150 riding on him.

JCD: *Were* u?

#1 Niece: Does he know Koji? Can he get me an autograph?

Sophie: Holy crap. Tommy just called me. No freakin’ WAY!!!!! Does he know about...

Now
that
was intriguing, especially when Dorie’s cheeks turned a bright enough shade of red that he could see it in the darkened backseat of the car. And of course that one got cut off.

Christo: cat—> bag—> BAM.

Shay: On second thought, you shouldn’t have anything to do with his knees.

#1 Niece: P.S. Liam wants to know if he’s going to be our uncle. We’d rather have Ellsbury. Can you date him instead?

Col: Dad’s not looking so good. If he has another heart attack, you’re out of the Super Bowl pool and Claudia’s in.

Tommy: !!!!!!!!!!!!

Shay: And no riding of any kind. I’d hate to kill my best player, but I’ll do it if I have to.

And then there was Nate’s favorite:

Sean: I don’t give a flying fuck who he is. If he even thinks about touching you, I will take that heel and ram it through his balls.

Just thinking of that one made Nate laugh. “Your family really has a thing about balls.”

Her thumbs flying across the touch screen, Dorie replied, “‘No head, no nuts.’ That was what the doctor said after every one of their checkups. So, of course, that’s what they aim for. Literally, figuratively, the whole shebang. It’s a bit of an obsession.”

Of course. Nate laughed again, although this time he managed to turn to look out the window and keep it to himself. Yes, this was crazy. No, it made no sense. But all he could think was that she was the whole damn package. She was beautiful, smart
and
she made him laugh. Plus there was her overall excellence in just about any pastime he could think up, her competitive streak...

Without thinking, he reached over and rested his hand on her leg. He wanted more of her—wished he could wrap his arms around her and just pull her close—but he’d settle for this for now. He couldn’t just keep sitting here and not be touching her.

She went still beneath his hand. He turned back to see her staring at him, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“A little scary,” she said quietly. “Aren’t they?”

Well, Hawk. Do-or-die time. She’d given him the opening; an excuse to tell her what she expected to hear, that this was, in fact, more than what he wanted to sign up for.

And yet he found himself leaning toward her, his hand going to the back of her neck as he drew her closer. “It takes more than that to scare me.” Just as he was about to bend down to her, though, the phone rang again. “They are, however, starting to piss me off.” They’d had a whole lifetime with her; he’d had less than a week—and was on a hard deadline. He wasn’t ready to share.

He took her phone and slid his thumb across the bottom of the screen to answer it. But before he could get a word in edgewise, he was met with a torrent of words. He wasn’t paying attention to the words themselves so much as the fact that they were in Spanish—which, since the woman on the other end of the line had expected Dorie to be answering the phone...

Nate’s eyes met Dorie’s. “You speak Spanish.” That meant she’d understood Rico’s rant the night before.

She shrugged. “A little.”

There was also a pause in the Spanish. And then, “Who is this?”

“This is Nate.” He ignored the sharp intake of breath. “And you?”

“Nate,” the woman repeated. “Nate Hawkins.” Not
her
name. Obviously. According to the readout on the phone that was Claudia, who, from the little he had paid attention to as she’d been speaking, was big brother Sean’s wife.

“That would be the one,” he replied.

Another pause, before a whispered, “
Dios mío.
”

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when, after a muffled side conversation, a man came on the line, a whole hell of a lot of challenge in his voice. “So you’re really Nate Hawkins. As in I-just-signed-a-contract-for-hundreds-of-millions-of-dollars Nate Hawkins.”

“That would be me.” Settling back against the seat, Nate forced himself not to be defensive. Or, for that matter, to go on the offensive. “I’m guessing you’re Sean.”

Dorie somehow managed to snort and give a little laugh of disbelief at the same time.

“You know who I am?” Sean asked.

“I know you’re obsessed with my...” Nate stopped talking when Dorie’s hand clamped around the very body part that he’d been about to mention. The look in her eyes was pure death glare: the hand giveth and the hand taketh away. Gripping her wrist, he managed to say, “...interest in your sister.”

To be honest, Nate couldn’t entirely blame him. If he was talking to a man who wanted to do the things to one of his sisters that he wanted to do to Dorie, well...

“She’s special,” Sean said quietly. “She deserves so much more than a love-em-and-leave-em kind of guy. Even if that guy is one of the richest men in the world.”

That was an exaggeration. Nate wasn’t even in the top hundred in the US. Granted he was ranked as one of the top-earning athletes, but that wasn’t the point. And, unfortunately, he understood exactly what Sean was saying. “I agree. One hundred percent.”

He reminded himself that Sean was just looking out for his sister when he answered, “I’m hoping you’re a nicer guy than they make you out to be. But if you’re not, do not for one second think that we won’t come at you with everything we’ve got.”

Damn it. Nate definitely needed to get someone back on board to handle his PR because he was, actually, a nice guy. He had no intention of hurting Dorie.

Then again, he wasn’t exactly thinking the warmest thoughts about her family at the moment.

“
They
don’t know a thing about me,” Nate answered.

“Yeah, well,” Sean replied, “I hope that’s true. Can you put my sister on?”

Not letting go of Dorie’s wrist, he held the phone out, closing his eyes against the unwanted emotion that had suddenly come over him. It wasn’t until she threaded her fingers through his—after releasing her deathly hold, incidentally—that he felt the calm come back.

“Yes, Sean,” she was murmuring. “I know...For heaven’s sake, I’m not
twelve...
Let me talk to Claudia, damn it!”

From there followed a diatribe in Spanish about how Claudia was a saint among saints for putting up with the Donelli men. And maybe, just maybe, if Sean and company hadn’t been so ridiculously overprotective, she would have settled down by now with a nice, safe guy who
hadn’t
slept with half of the
SI
swimsuit models and—

“Stop.” Not sure whether to laugh or be offended, Nate took the phone from her once again. This time—in Spanish—he said, “Claudia? We’re hanging up now.” And then he did that very thing.

Mouth open, Dorie seemed about to protest but then she said, “
You
speak Spanish.”

He hadn’t mentioned that? He supposed they were even. “And Japanese.” Plus he’d been picking up some Portuguese. Tools of the trade.

She folded her arms in front of her chest. “You didn’t say anything last night when Rico went off.”

“Because you kicked me every time I started to speak up for you.” He nearly laughed at the look on her face. She clearly couldn’t decide whether to apologize or tell him that she was entirely capable of defending herself.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that she took it in an entirely different direction. “Well, I wasn’t about to let Rico know that I understood what he’d said. It would have embarrassed him.”

“But you had no problem cleaning everyone’s clocks instead.”

There was that low laugh of hers. “Nope. That felt
good
.”

Which, of course, had Nate thinking of all the ways
he
could make her feel good. “Any other special skills hidden up those sleeves of yours?”

Although it was a rhetorical question, she paused to give it thought. “I once did 532 chin-ups in a row, although I’m not sure I could even do half that now. But I can still Hula-Hoop for three hours straight.”

That stopped Nate cold. “That’s, um, a lot.”

With a smile, she leaned into him, pulling his arm around her shoulders. “When I was too old for Toss the Toddler, my brothers needed something else to get me out of their hair, so they convinced me to go for the world record.” When Nate didn’t answer—for sheer lack of ability to speak as he considered the stamina required—she added, “You know, as in Guinness?”

“I know,” he answered, half wanting to laugh, half still caught up in thinking about three hours of her hips moving like that.

“Kept me busy for hours,” she said. When his laughter won out, she whirled around to glare at him. “What?”

Bending down to kiss the top of her head, he had to admit, “Your brothers are geniuses.”

The glare held for all of two seconds before she laughed, as well. “Tell them that and I’ll—”

“Knee me in the balls.” More content than he’d ever known he could be, he pulled her close against him. “I know.”