Out of His League

CHAPTER 2

Josh saw the sign with the Las Vegas Neons logo on it, his name scrawled in black spiky letters. He waved his hand above the crowd and veered toward his driver.

"Josh!" the driver beamed, his familiar accent reaching above the crowd.

"Hey, Ric! Looking good, my man," Josh said, and the two slapped each other on the arm. "Wife doing okay these days?"

"She's due in a month, can you believe it? I'm gonna be a papá!" the man said, grinning from ear to ear.

Josh congratulated him. He glanced at Gretchen, her nose in her phone. He didn't want to part ways here, at the busy airport. He wanted more time.

"Ric. I have a request. This is Gretchen. She bought me a coffee today. I'd like to repay her kindness by dropping her off at her hotel. Is that okay?"

"Whatever you say, boss." Ric winked, and grinned at Gretchen, his dark eyes sparkling.

"Oh Josh, it's okay, I can take a shuttle, really," Gretchen protested, putting her phone back in her pocket.

"No arguing. Just say, 'Yes, Josh, that would be lovely.'" He shushed her with a finger over her mouth.

She laughed, stood on her tiptoes, and impulsively kissed his cheek. "All right, all right. You win. Thank you."

When her lips touched his cheek, he reveled in the feeling of her being so close to him. As she turned to follow Ric, he wanted to pull her to him and do naughty things right there in the airport. Even not touching her for a second was driving him nuts. She felt good curved into his body, and the way her hips moved made it difficult to think straight as she walked ahead of him.

His body was at war with his brain because he didn't do the girl-in-every-city routine like a lot of players and had never had a one night stand in his entire professional life. It was always too risky; his career was more important than a roll in the hay. He didn't want to hurt her, since she was both sweet and nice and not likely to be the kind of girl who would fall into bed on a whim. Or not . . . he had no clue since he really didn't know her at all.

But as she pushed through the doors to the pickup area, he paused. Maybe the idea of a distraction was the best way to look at it. He'd have to be clear on the rules. No strings, right?

He warred with himself as to how to handle this physical attraction with the knowledge it could be just that. Besides, who knew where he was going to end up in the next few weeks? Likely not back in Toronto.

They stepped out into the cool desert night and he took in a deep breath of dry air. It wasn't that he hated Vegas; he loved it here. When he was in the minors, he had played well when his team had visited and had loved playing here when he was originally brought into the farm team system for the Sixers. A particular grand slam one night in the Vegas diamond had been the play to clinch him his spot in the Show, and he was traded to Boston for a draft-round pick.

The general manager, whom everyone called Coach, was a constant in his life who had helped him get to where he was, and in the few stints he'd done down here in the past few years, recovering from injuries or simply taking a breather, he'd clicked with the team and management. Often, he'd work the lineups and critique some of the younger players at practice. But it wasn't where he wanted to be at this stage in his career.

When Josh had arrived at the airport to head to Vegas, he had wanted to be anywhere else but there. And now, as he watched Ric heft Gretchen's suitcase into the back of the team van, he didn't want to be anywhere but with her. Preferably naked. He ran a hand over his face.

He was losing it.

He must have made a sound, because Gretchen turned to him and asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. Tired, maybe."