Page 35 of The Billionaire's Catch

She held herself as primly as one could in an oversized t-shirt. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

He led her to the small coffee table and held out a chair for her. She sat down, and he dealt the cards. She received a terrible hand off the bat, with only a pair of eights. She traded four cards, but still just improved to a pair of tens. It wasn’t surprising when he won with a full house.

She didn’t fare much better on the next few hands. “This isn’t my lucky night.” She tossed the losing hand on the table. “If the Dragons lost like this, we’d all be out of jobs.”

“Then it’s lucky I’m good at winning.” He winked. He won baseball games, poker, her? “Although it would’ve been even better with your original suggestion.”

“In your dreams.” Actually, it probably was the dream of just about every woman out there. Even her. She pressed forward, “Even losing, competitive games still beat watching television. In Europe, I joined a recreational baseball league.”

“Really?” he said. “Maybe we could work out together sometime.”

“I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” she confided to the best catcher in baseball. “When I show you up and all.”

He chuckled. “For you, it might just be worth it. So what else do you like to do?”

She shrugged. “The usual – traveling to interesting places, hanging out with friends, dodging tornados.”

“What a coincidence.” He tapped the table. “I like all those things, too. Although I only dodge tornadoes on alternate months. Next week I’m doing a volcanic eruption and the week after that, there’s a zombie apocalypse.”

“No doubt you’ll be saving the day.” She was only half-joking. He truly emulated a storybook hero. “Heroics seems to be a habit of yours.”

“Nah. Must be my evil twin.” His eyes twinkled. “Although wouldn’t the evil twin do bad? Yes, that’s right. Then it must be my heroic twin who saves the day. Which means…” He lowered his voice to villain-speak. “I’m the evil twin.”

She laughed, delighted by this man so different than she originally believed. She reached for his hand. “Seriously though, you should be proud of all that you do. Have you always done so much charity?”

Jason looked away, as if even vocalizing that he did good was uncomfortable. “For a while,” he admitted. “I actually started on the other side of the relationship. Someone helped me.” He was silent for a moment. When it seemed he wasn’t going to elaborate, he spoke in muted tones, “My childhood life was very different than now. I don’t advertise it, but I actually came from a disadvantaged background. My dad left when I was two, and my mom worked eighty hours a week while caring for three kids.”

Wow. How had she not known this? “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jason said quickly, waving off the sympathy. “We weren’t starving, but there wasn’t much left after food. Even if there had been, there wasn’t a parent around most of the time. Not that my mom didn’t try, but she spent every minute keeping a roof over our heads, not playing board games.”

Dara’s stance softened. “That must’ve been rough.”

“It wasn’t too bad.” A catch in his voice belied the nonchalant words. “Everything changed when Kenneth came around. He was a volunteer for the local community center. He didn’t have much himself, but he gave his time to the kids.” Jason’s eyes turned unfocused, as he peered into the past. “He’s the one who taught me how to tie my shoes, talk to a girl, take care of myself. He was there when the kids bullied me at school for having torn clothing and when I needed help studying for a test. He taught me how to throw a ball.”

She smiled. “Was he good at baseball?”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Horrible. But he loved it, and he loved kids. He bought me my first real bat and glove. He would play with me for hours, listening to me, encouraging me, helping me. As the years passed, I came to think of him as more than a volunteer. He became a surrogate dad.”

Dara imagined a little boy, playing catch with his only father figure. “He sounds like an amazing man.”

“He is.” Jason’s expression turned wistful. “I once asked why he did it. He said helping people was the best feeling in the world. You don’t have to be rich or famous to be a hero. You just have to be kind. I never forgot that, not when I grew up and became better at baseball, not when a scout recruited me, not when I played at college and the majors.”

Clearly, his influence could still be seen today. “That’s wonderful. Do you still keep in touch?”

He nodded. “The first thing I did when I got my big contract was buy my mom and him each a huge house. He was furious.” He laughed. “Said he didn’t want anything from me. So I refused to talk to him until he moved in.”

“That sounds just like you.” She tapped him on the arm. “You like your own way, don’t you?”

“I like helping people I care for.” He looked pointedly at her, and the shiver returned. “He’s a bit older, but he’s doing fine. I visit him regularly, and so does my mom. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if something might be going on between those two.” He grinned. “Now I help people whenever I can. Kenneth was right. It feels great to spread good.”

It feels great to spread good? How could social media call this man an irreverent playboy who cared only about himself? She squeezed his hand. “I’m really glad you shared that with me.”

“Me too.” Jason shuffled the cards against the table. “What about you? You’re modest, but you also make a difference.”

“Convincing you to stop flashing your impressive muscles isn’t considered charity. In fact, some would call it a disservice to the female population.” Her face heated, and she looked away. “Can we forget I said impressive muscles? And the other part?”

“Nope. Never. I’m getting it engraved on a plaque and hanging it above my mantle.”

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