Page 2 of Home Run

Scotty the bartender laughed his ass off as he watched her. I didn’t like that, but I didn’t know why I didn’t like it. Only that it irritated the fuck out of me.

Scotty poured out a round of shots, handing one up to the tank top woman. They cheersed and shot back the alcohol. Everyone except the woman standing on the bar. I still couldn’t get over that. Why was she on the bar? What gave her the freedom to feel like she was allowed to do such a thing?

“You!” She pointed right at me. “Yes you. Get over here.” She crooked her finger.

Scotty put a hand on her calf and began whispering, shaking his head. “No. That’s Rhett Ryan. Just leave him alone.”

The woman frowned. “Oi! It’s not right to drink alone. Get your ass over here and join us.”

Scotty’s whispers got louder even though I could hear everything anyway. I pointed at myself. “Me? Why the fuck do you want to drink with me?” I felt my body shift forward, wanting to join this woman despite wanting nothing to do with giggling.

And trust me, they were all giggling. At her, at the story, and the performance she was putting on now.

She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, green eyes flashing with mischief. “Get over here and drink with us or I’m coming over there. And you should know that after two shots I usually dance instead of walk.”

The girls burst into laughter while Scotty ran his hand down his face, folding his arms over his chest like he could somehow protect himself from what was about to unfold. He probably thought I was going to pull one of my infamous tantrums. He probably thought I was about to drag the night manager in and get everyone fired. But I kept my fights to umpires and ballplayers. And okay, the occasional asshole at a club.

The woman held up her second shot, eyebrows up. A challenge.

I took it, pushing my body up out of the armchair and slowly sauntering over. Scotty shrank back. I didn’t change the stoic expression on my face, mostly because I was curious how everyone would react. The women on the ground huddled together, grinning. The woman on the bar watched my every move, the mischief never leaving her eyes. Scotty stood frozen.

“Drink,” I said.

Scotty’s eyes widened, then his hands shot out, grabbing a shot glass and pouring out more of the scotch I’d been drinking all night. Good man. The woman above me grinned from ear to ear as I held up my shot. “Fuck yeah. Cheers.”

Our eyes locked and for a split second the pit in my stomach disappeared. The fresh round of alcohol burned all over again and I slammed the glass onto the counter.

The woman crouched down, meeting my gaze. “Scott here says your name like it means something. What was it again?”

“Rhett Ryan,” I gritted out, waiting for her mischief to turn to those insanely annoying giggles once she realized who I was.

Instead she nodded once. “Well nice to meet you Rhett Ryan. Thanks for playing along. Our night got all busted up so we decided to turn our lemons into lemonade. We’re now having a fancy slumber party with you and Scott here.”

Scotty’s hands shot up. “I am not getting pulled into another one of your terrible plans.”

She shot him a look. “My plans are never terrible.” She looked back to me. “They’re fantastic.”

The way her lips moved, the words fell off her tongue, hell even the way her eyes sparkled, almost distracted me from noticing the way her breasts moved inside that tank top.

If she knew who I was, she was doing a damn fine job of hiding it. Tonight was looking up.

Scotty tried again. “I don’t think Mr. Ryan has time for your adventures.”

He was right. I didn’t. It was September and every game counted if we wanted to secure our spot in the playoffs. I probably wouldn’t have more than a day off until we either won everything or were sent home defeated. I needed rest. I needed focus.

I needed some fucking fun.

“What did you have in mind?”

Her eyes lit up and a genuine giggle escaped her lips. It wasn’t fake or shrill. Actually, it was kind of low and sexy. The kind of sound I wanted her to make if I got her naked. “How do you feel about hot tubs?” She had my full attention as she reached behind the bar and retrieved a bottle of champagne.

“I love hot tubs.”

She grinned up at Scotty. “Close the bar. Let’s go have some fun.”

The women behind her leaned over the counter, eyes locked on Scotty. “We won’t be back until Christmas and you have no customers.”

All the resolve drained out of Scotty as he glanced from the women to me and back again. “Okay fine. Here, take two.” He slid a second bottle onto the counter. “I’ll be five minutes.”

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