Payoff Pitch (Philadelphia Patriots) (17 page)

God help him, Noah wanted
all
of her heat wrapped around him.

Oh, Jesus, why does he keep tempting me like this?

Teddy stared into Noah’s dark, heavy-lidded gaze and felt like she was tumbling down an emotional well. She couldn’t begin to formulate a halfway coherent answer to his question.

Did she give a damn?

Of course she did, and her brain was still operating rationally enough to realize that an affair with her boss would lead to nothing but heartache and trouble. Even if they had a week or a month of glorious sex—and she knew without a shred of doubt it
would
be glorious—soon enough Noah would grow tired of her. He’d move on to another cheerleader or some other sexy hero worshipper that would make Teddy look like the skinny, freckle-faced farm girl she was. Even if he’d let her stay on as his dog walker, which seemed doubtful, how could she bring herself to live and work here after he’d rejected her as a woman?

God, it was a total walking cliché, one she had no desire to become.

And aside from the emotional pain, her dream of saving money and finally getting to law school could very well go up in a column of black smoke, too. And all for the sake of a few fun hours rolling around in the sheets, as admittedly enticing as that image was. Teddy trusted her instincts, and her instincts were screeching at her to back him the hell off.

But neither rationality nor instincts were doing her much good at the moment, because she had never wanted a man as badly as she wanted Noah Cade. Not even close. One simple touch, skin on skin, had sent her hormones
and
emotions flaring into uncharted territory—territory she wanted to explore as much as she wanted to take her next breath.

“I feel a little stupid up here, staring down at you,” she said, dodging the question for a moment. Maybe putting a little space between them would help her to think better, although thinking was definitely losing the battle to an extreme version of cave girl lust. No, it wasn’t just simple lust but a desperate thirst for him that was growing stronger by the hour.

Yeah, thirst, that was it. Just a natural instinct and a totally understandable, basic response to a hot alpha male.

Nothing to see here, folks. Just keep moving.

Noah finally released his grip on the ladder as she shifted and carefully put a foot down on a lower rung. Still, he barely moved, stepping back mere inches to let her step slowly down, facing him as she used the rails behind her for balance. As her right foot left the last rung, Noah reached out his big hands and gripped her firmly at the waist, ensuring that she didn’t misstep and fall. It made her feel weightless for a brief moment as he held her. The rough brush of his calloused palms on her bare skin sent waves of anxiety and longing skittering across her body.

And, God help her, she could feel herself getting wet. That was the
last
thing she wanted him to know. She silently cursed her decision to wear such skimpy shorts and clamped her thighs tightly together.

She took a steadying breath and cautiously lifted her eyes. Their perspectives were reversed. Instead of her gazing down at him, Noah again towered over her, forcing her to tilt her head back. Her thoughts ground slowly and stupidly, and she didn’t trust herself not to say something really dumb. Or
do
something really dumb.

Noah snorted under his breath, clearly exasperated. “I keep trying, Teddy, but you’re right, this is hard. Hard being around you and yet…” He hesitated a moment, as if he was unsure of himself. “Unless I’m reading you totally wrong, you’re feeling the same way I am. We’re like some chemical combination that just has to mix.” He dropped his gaze for a moment then let out a self-conscious chuckle. “I know that sounds kind of dumb but, hey, I throw baseballs for a living. I’ve never been great with words.”

She had to clear her throat before she could answer. “I think you’re doing just fine, actually. I can’t quite put a name to what’s happening between us, but it doesn’t seem to want to let up. Dammit,” she added, truly frustrated.

That surprised a smoky, deep laugh from Noah. Then his even smokier gaze locked on her with undisguised intent.
He’s going to kiss me now.
Teddy knew it as sure as she knew she was going to let him do it.

She squeezed her eyes shut as his mouth neared hers, her heart pounding with heady mix of anticipation and fear. But instead of the gentle touch of his lips, she felt the rough stubble of his cheek slide across her face before he gripped her in a tight embrace. Instinctively, she tilted her head into the warmth of his body as she wrapped her arms around his brawny shoulders. Noah was breathing hard, and she could feel every thudding beat of his heart. She held onto him as tightly as he did her, sensing it had taken a huge force of will on his part to veer away from an action that might have changed everything between them.

“No,” he ground out, his voice muffled against her neck. “It’s not right. Not after what you’ve said to me.”

She felt his grip loosen but he didn’t let her go.

“No,” she whispered into his chest.
Even though this feels like exactly right.
“Thank you, Noah,” she said, not entirely sure she meant it.

“Great hug, though.” His tone had lightened, although it still held a husky rumble that made her shiver. His arms briefly tightened, but then he eased off.

Teddy’s rational brain kicked in again. “Sure was. But it was a good thing Cristina was out shopping. I’d have hated for her to see us like that.”

Noah stepped back with a wry smile, probably thinking to himself that Cristina had seen him kiss lots of women and wouldn’t have been one bit surprised.

“I think I’d better do some shopping, too,” he said. “Specifically, a trip to Home Depot to buy a ladder that isn’t a hazard to your health.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes.”

Teddy gave him a grateful smile. “Good idea.” She needed some time to get her head back on straight, anyway.

“Now, promise me you won’t climb back up on that thing again in the meantime,” he said, giving her a stern look. “I mean it, Teddy.”

God, the man just made her heart melt. His concern was so obviously sincere that she desperately wanted to hug him again. Instead, she settled for a brief touch on his bare arm. “Your wish is my command, sir.”

His sardonic snort as he left the room told her just how much he knew that wasn’t the case.

But, oh, how she wished it was.

Teddy had never been to a major league baseball game in her life. For one thing, the tickets cost a small fortune these days. For another, she’d never had any interest. Sports weren’t her thing, and especially not professional sports played by grossly overpaid athletes.

So, how had she found herself sitting in one of the best seats in the Patriots’ stadium on a sultry summer evening?

Because Noah had insisted until she finally caved. He seemed to feel it was important that she see how he made his living, or at least that was her guess. Oh, he’d couched the invitation in terms of her needing a break from a boring life of dog walking and studying, but she’d picked up the vibe. He obviously thought she didn’t get what he was about and wanted to change that. And Teddy had given in because it was the least she could do. Since the day they’d almost kissed, Noah had been nothing but kind and gentlemanly and appropriately reserved. She suspected he felt both guilty about crossing the line with her and worried that she might bolt.

Or maybe he was just being nice. Either way, Teddy so far had found living in his house less stressful than she’d feared. Even Cristina seemed to have slightly warmed to her, if only from the formerly sub-zero to the current chilly temperature.

Not that she’d seen Noah much more than in passing. The man hadn’t been kidding when he said he didn’t spend much time at home. Every day had been a game day—part of something he’d called a “long home stand”—and so he spent his afternoons and evenings at the ballpark. Mornings were devoted to sleep, jogging and basement workouts, squeezing breakfast in between the outdoor and indoor work. When it came to pushing his body into a state of hyper-fitness, Noah Cade didn’t take a back seat to anybody.

So, when he arranged for Teddy to take in tonight’s game with a couple of players’ wives, she’d agreed. She’d figured she might be numb with boredom after the first ten minutes, but if it made Noah happy, she was down with that.

As it turned out, she was far from bored. For one thing, the atmosphere in the ballpark was electric. Philly fans were nuts for the Patriots. Whenever the team scored, or even threatened to score, the noise cascading around the multi-level stadium reached deafening heights. For the first few innings, Teddy had found herself jumping to her feet again and again, unconsciously imitating her seatmates Holly Bell-Carter and Maddie Miller, not to mention just about every other fan in the park.

The game was flying by, too. The Patriot batters had brutally pounded the first Washington pitcher, scoring four runs in the first inning and then adding two more in the third and another in the fourth. The early fan euphoria had subsided a little, though, as the Nationals had chipped away at the lead and now trailed only 7-5 at the start of the sixth inning. A few jerks had even gotten on Noah’s case when he gave up four runs in the fourth, and Teddy had heard a few boos when he jogged from the dugout to the mound a few moments ago.

She turned to Maddie, who seemed to know everything about baseball there was to know—which made sense since she was a sports journalist. “Why are those idiots booing Noah? He hasn’t even thrown a pitch yet this inning.”

Maddie, the brunette wife of super-hunk outfielder Jake Miller, turned in her stadium seat and gave her a warm smile. “Don’t let it bother you, Teddy. The boo-birds think the manager should have taken Noah out and put in a new pitcher to start this inning. Most of the time a pitcher won’t be left in the game if he gives up five runs in five innings, but Jack Ault knows what he’s doing. He’s the best manager in baseball.”

Though Teddy knew nothing about baseball, even she could tell Noah had been struggling. She wasn’t close enough to quite read his expression, but his body language told her he’d become frustrated and angry with himself after he gave up that home run in the fourth. His head down as three Nationals rounded the bases and scored, he’d looked almost defeated. Fortunately, though, he’d bounced back the next inning, giving up another run only because of an error by the shortstop. To Teddy, that had seemed like a victory, particularly since the Patriots still held their lead.

“Noah does look a little tired to me,” Teddy said.

Holly gave a delicate snort from Teddy’s other side. “Yes, but Noah’s just like Nate when he’s out on the mound. He somehow finds a way to do his best pitching just when you think he’s run out of gas. Guys like them are so super-competitive that they can find something extra just when it looks like they’re done. They just stay inside themselves and pitch to their strengths.”

Whatever that means.
Teddy smiled uncertainly at the leggy, auburn-haired beauty whose baby bump was just starting to show. Noah had introduced her as the wife of pitcher Nate Carter, but Maddie had quickly added that Dr. Bell-Carter was a prominent cardiac surgeon specializing in congenital heart disease at the children’s hospital. But despite such scary-impressive credentials, Holly had been friendly and easy to talk to. Teddy had liked her immediately.

“Well, just listen to you, Holly Carter,” Maddie said in a playful voice as she leaned forward to speak to Holly. “It wasn’t that long ago that you didn’t know a bat from a broomstick, and now you can string together clichés like a seasoned pro.”

Holly stuck her tongue out at her friend.

Teddy laughed at the exchange, envying the obviously close friendship of the two women. High powered professionals, they were nevertheless totally down to earth, as well as kind and warm to the baseball-ignorant dog walker Noah had foisted on them for the evening.

“The people who are booing don’t get why Jack’s leaving Noah in the game,” Maddie said to Teddy, “but it should be obvious.”

Not so obvious that Teddy had even the faintest idea. She nodded politely, hoping she didn’t look too stupid.

Maddie paused for a second then flashed Teddy a wry smile. “What I mean is that Noah would be third to bat in the bottom of this inning if he was still in the game. So, what Jack would like to do is put in a pinch hitter for him then and have a relief pitcher throw the top of the seventh. If he put in a reliever now, that guy would have to bat in the bottom of the inning, or else Jack would have to burn another reliever by pinch hitting for the first reliever.”

Teddy blinked, trying to process what sounded like a foreign language. Maddie patiently tried again. “You don’t want to let a pitcher hit unless you really want that guy to stay in the game. Almost all pitchers have terrible batting averages and rarely drive in runs.”

“Oh,” Teddy said, starting to get it. “So, are you saying the manager doesn’t necessarily have confidence in Noah just because he’s letting him pitch another inning?”

Maddie winced a bit, as if a little embarrassed. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just trying to explain pinch-hitting strategy.”

“So, Noah will know that he’s going to be out of the game after this inning, right?” Teddy asked.

“Yes. And if he can keep the lead until that happens, he’ll be the winning pitcher. If, that is, we hold onto the lead for the rest of the game.”

“I think that might be another reason why Jack’s leaving Noah in,” Holly said, raising her voice above the crowd noise as the first batter hit a foul ball into the stands behind third base. “Getting the win is a pretty big thing for a pitcher, Teddy. I’m sure Jack wants Noah to get his first one of the season. If I know anything about pitcher psychology, it would be a big morale booster for him.”

Teddy got that immediately. She’d seen firsthand the impact Noah’s struggles at the ballpark were having on the rest of his life. He tried to hide it the best he could from her and Cristina, but Teddy could practically see the dark, threatening clouds that hung over his head. As each day passed, he was becoming more and more focused on his game—working out like a triathlete and withdrawing into some distant zone where he was physically present in the house and yet not totally there. The evening she’d finished painting her new bedroom, he’d pitched a game that he’d bitterly called a “sick joke” and had become more withdrawn ever since.