No One Like You (27 page)

Halo didn’t call him on it, his gaze held on Ry. “Our captain got lucky,” he said louder than was necessary.

That drew every eye in Ry’s direction. Landon raised an eyebrow, asked, “With who? One of the girls from the picnic? The redhead, white tank top, black bra was hot.”

“So was the green-eyed blonde in the blue sundress. Stacked . . . heels,” said Halo. “Renewing old acquaintances, dude?”

Rylan made it a rule not to discuss his dates. What he did in bed, stayed in bed. Sheet pulled to the chin.

Zoo joined them. “Share, Ry-man.”

Rylan kept his voice even. “Why do you care?”

“Sex sets up home runs,” said Halo. “A satisfied man hits for the fence. We’ll see how well you do in batting practice.”

Rylan planned to bunt.

Zoo rubbed his chin. Observant. “You’re particular about who you date. She must be special.”

“Bet he’s serious about her,” said Landon.

Their speculation went on and on. They brought up every single woman from the picnic, except one.

Halo named her. “Beth?” he asked, his tone more amused than serious.

“No way,” said Landon. “Not our Beth. Ry-man doesn’t date his PAs.”

“
Our
Beth?” Rylan hated to share her.

“
Your
Beth,” said Zoo, suddenly smug. “You were watching her without looking at her throughout the picnic. Male radar.” He was too damn perceptive.

Rylan stood, scored his baseball cap and glove from his locker, got ready to leave. “Don’t make more out of our relationship than is there,” he said, not wanting to discuss Beth further.

“So it’s okay if I ask her out then?” Zoo was being a dick.

Ry shot him a dark look.

The left fielder chuckled. “I thought so.”

“Son of bitch,” said Halo. “I never saw that coming.”

“Will she return to Richmond with you after spring training?” asked Landon.

Rylan hadn’t thought that far ahead. They’d touched on her staying in Barefoot William and starting her own business. Living at his cottage. They hadn’t moved beyond that point. Not yet, anyway. “I’ll let you know in seven weeks,” was as far as he could commit.

Halo huffed. “Updates would be nice.”

Landon agreed. “E-mail or text.”

Rylan ran his hand down his face. What the hell? He knew his teammates were taken with Beth, but when had they become her guardians? Surely they didn’t expect him to check in daily. They would dog him worse than Atlas. Making sure he did right by her.

All because of a hickey.

Rylan changed the subject. “When are you getting your tattoo?” he asked Halo.

The right fielder patted his abdomen. “After practice. Four of us are getting inked. Want to make it five?”

“I already have plans.”

“I could change mine and join you.”

“You’re not invited.”

“Give my best to Beth.”

The locker room cleared. Practice went well for the first day. It was seventy degrees and breezy. Everyone worked up a sweat. Lunch was catered in, and they ate in the locker room. The tattoo discussion was ongoing. Lots of suggestions were tossed out. The guys were vain when it came to inking their groin. They wanted unique and authentic, and something to impress the ladies.

Ry didn’t find
Bone Ranger, Yardstick, Steelix,
or
Keeping Score
all that remarkable. Images of a fiery baseball or a babe straddling a base weren’t much better.

The other guys were already set on their tats. Rylan hoped there’d be no regrets. They couldn’t erase the ink. Their tattoos would last beyond their baseball careers.

Four o’clock came, and the men took off. Some together, others alone. The tattoo group climbed into Halo’s Hummer. The players believed the groin tattoo was a rite of passage necessary to be a Rogue. Those who’d gone before all had ink.

The greats, such as Risk Kincaid, one-time center fielder for the Rogues and present managing general partner and co-chairman for the team, was inked with
Bad to the Bone
. Jesse Bellisaro, previous third baseman and current vice-president, had
Legendary
. Psycho McMillan, one of the most talented right fielders ever to play the game and current senior VP and general manager had
Stands on Command.

The groin was sensitive. Whether his teammates went with script or a picture, they would be sore tomorrow. No doubt bruised. Better them than him, Ry thought. He’d yet to decide on getting a tat. He wasn’t as superstitious as Halo and Landon. They believed being inked would win them the pennant.

Rylan arrived home to find Beth harnessing the dogs. Harnesses meant walks or rides in the Range Rover. Either way, they were excited.

“I thought to have them ready when you got home,” she said.

“Let me change into a pair of board shorts, and I’m good to go.” Instead of immediately heading upstairs, he closed in on her. He pulled her to him, kissed her soundly. He felt her smile against his mouth. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mm hmm.” She nipped his bottom lip. “You?”

“Better than expected,” he admitted. “The guys were cooperative. Psyched for the season.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m ready for the beach.”

“Me, too.”

Rylan was upstairs and back down in twenty minutes. He looked forward to spending time with Beth. No place was as fun and relaxing as the beach. She had a stack of towels ready to go and had thoughtfully remembered a big plastic bowl and a gallon container of spring water for his dogs. Rylan didn’t want them drinking salt water from the Gulf. It always made Atlas puke.

Once in the SUV, Rue and the dachsies lay down. Atlas paced the small space, barely able to turn around. He became Ry’s co-pilot, looking over his shoulder.

“You’re blocking my rearview mirror,” Rylan told him.

Atlas transferred sides and rested his chin on the back of Beth’s seat. Sniffed her hair.

Beth enjoyed the passing scenery.

Twenty minutes on the main highway, and Rylan turned down a dirt track into the woods. He drove slowly. Dense clusters of palm trees and pine tested his maneuvering skills. The back road had as many dips and climbs as a rollercoaster. A sharp right, and the SUV emerged on a strip of compact sand. A locked gate was just ahead. Ry had a key so they could enter.

He parked inside the chain-link fence. The dogs were up, but Rue and Atlas were the only two tall enough to look out the windows. The dachs bounced in place. They sensed they were at the beach and wanted to explore.

The secluded area had been cleared. Only sand and minimal grass remained. The reef protected the cove from choppy water so the surface was smooth. Gentle waves frothed the shore.

Beth assisted Ry in releasing the dogs. Each one had to be fitted with a life jacket. Atlas wouldn’t stand still. He bucked until Rylan was forced to wrap his arms around his belly while Beth secured the straps. Water safety was important.

Afterward, wanting to be helpful, she asked, “What would you like me to do? Which dogs should I watch?”

The golden retriever was already in the water, paddling like a pro. Oscar and Nathan chased the waves, barking when water washed over their paws. Atlas ran along the shoreline, howling at Rue, calling her back. He was too chicken to swim and didn’t want her to, either.

“Lay out the towels and get comfortable,” Rylan suggested. “The area is contained. The dogs have been here before. They’ll swim or play, get some exercise. Keep an eye on the weenies. Atlas creates waves. A big one could flip them.”

Sitting sounded good. She would prepare their rest area, but first, she watched him tug off his T-shirt. When he dropped it on the sand, her eyes widened on his chest. Her breath stuck in her throat, and she started to cough.

“You okay?” he asked her, ready to pat her on the back.

“Hickey,” she finally managed.

“So I’ve been told.”

“By?” she hated to ask. Hated to know.

“Halo. The man has the eyes of a hawk.”

She buried her face in her palms, embarrassed. Ry came to stand before her and circled her wrists, lowering her hands.

“Bruises heal. Look at your face, back to normal.”

“I hadn’t meant to leave a mark. Not one so visible, anyway.”

“I got you, too,” he reminded her. “Inner thigh. Belly.”

“Your bites were more controlled.” She sighed heavily. “I left the imprint of my mouth.”

“A very sweet mouth it is.” He kissed her then, with just enough warmth to catch her interest, but not enough heat to leave her wet. They’d share the fire later.

“Did your teammates notice my love bite?” she asked, half-afraid of his answer.

“Noticed and harassed me.” He shrugged, logical and practical. “I don’t care. We’re together, that’s all that matters to me.”

“To me, too.”

Atlas’s whining soon separated them. The big dog was beside himself. Rue was still swimming, and he couldn’t get to her. He could join her if he tried, but he wasn’t trying very hard. He wanted her to come back to him, instead.

“He’ll follow me out,” Rylan said as he moved toward the waterline. Atlas had his eye on him.

Beth admired Rylan’s backside. He wore black board shorts low on his hips. His shoulders were broad; his back, muscled. She liked the dimples above his butt; the sinew of his calves.

The man was hot. Sexy. Edgy. He had a big heart. He was also competent, patient, and protective. Extraordinary. Rylan Cates was an all-around good guy. She hadn’t known any other man who had his qualities.

She shook out the towels, which soon covered the ground like a blanket. She heard Ry whistle for Atlas. Shading her eyes against the sun, she caught the Dane’s response. Atlas was having a bad day. He grumbled at Rylan. He wanted to play, but had no one to play with. He looked at Beth, then back to Ry, who was swimming out to the retriever.

Atlas groused, and if a dog could have said “shit,” he would have. It sure sounded that way to Beth. She couldn’t help but smile when he tiptoed into the water, high-stepping the low waves. He got wet to his knees, then bellyached. Loud and pitiful.

Her heart went out to him. She didn’t have a swimsuit, but neither did she mind getting wet. She waded in beside him, wearing a tank top and cutoffs. He gave her a cartoon grin, relieved he wasn’t alone. She grasped the handle on his float coat and gave a tug. He balked. A second gentle pull, and he walked with her. Until the water hit his chest. He sniffed a wave and got a nose full of salt water. He shook his head, and she got sprayed.

“Be careful, Beth,” Rylan called to her. He was treading water near Rue. “If Atlas dives in, he’ll drag you with him.”

His words reached her too late. Atlas decided
it was time,
and he took the plunge. Her wrist twisted, got caught in the strap. She was unable to release the handle. The water wasn’t deep. No matter, he dragged her butt along the sandy bottom until Rylan saved her. He freed her hand, then pulled her up against him. The water surrounded her shoulders.

He brushed her hair out of her eyes, was quick to ask, “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, sighed against him. She wouldn’t mention the amount of sand in her crack. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Atlas was being such a baby, I forgot about his strength. I should’ve been more careful. My fault.”

She glanced over Rylan’s shoulder and saw that all was now right in Atlas’s world. The Dane floated near Rue, just beyond his comfort zone. He couldn’t stand, but he could bob. He was doing a lot of bobbing. He held his head high.

The dachshunds had chased their last wave and were stretched on the towels. Both Ry and Beth kept one eye on Rue and Atlas, and one eye on each other. She liked being wet and slippery with this man. She tasted sunshine and salt on his lips when he kissed her. He stroked down her back, cupped her bottom, and lifted her against him. Her thighs hugged his hips. Her ankles hooked behind him. She fit her sex to his . . .

Whatever might have happened, did not. Rue brushed against them as she paddled toward shore. She was struggling, breathing heavily, and they soon realized why. She gripped the extended canvas handle of Atlas’s life jacket in her mouth. She was towing him to shore.

Beth quickly slid off Ry, which freed him to help the golden. Rylan got them both to shore without mishap. Atlas licked Rue’s face, showing his appreciation. Beth followed them to shore, poured fresh water in two big bowls. The dogs took a long drink.

Atlas took up more than his fair share of the towels when he lay down. Beth and Ry sat on the corners. They let the breeze dry them.

“They’re going to need baths when we get home, aren’t they?” She was thinking ahead.

Rylan nodded. “We’ll make it quick. They’re tired out. Even Atlas.” He raised an eyebrow, asked, “One or the other. Stay a while longer or head home?”

“Stay for the sunset.”

He made her comfortable. He sat back, bent his knees, and eased her between his thighs. Fully against him, her shoulders pressed his chest. Her bottom snugged his groin. The position should’ve been soothing, relaxing. But how could she sit still with his erection primed at the small of her back?

She took several deep breaths and felt the smile in Rylan’s lips when he kissed her neck. They were so aware and into each other, they nearly missed the sun closing out the day.

Orange, gold, and pink soon colored the sky. The reflection was captured on the water and sand, encompassing the dogs. Tangerine tipped Atlas’s ears. Rue’s tail turned rose pink. A coppery-gold tagged the dachsies’ long noses. Dusk deepened around them as the sun waved good-bye.

He nuzzled the soft spot behind her ear. “Should we grab takeout or cook at the cottage?”

“I prepared food ahead of time. My version of an organic shepherd’s pie for the dogs. A Caesar salad for us.”