Sparks of Love Page 3

  “He’s still staring at you, B.” Allison’s gaze shifted over my shoulder, and she gave a small wave.

  My eyes widened, and I grabbed her hand, shoving it down into her lap. I couldn’t help but glance back to find him staring right at me, grinning like a Cheshire cat, and I was a saucer of milk.

  Great, now I was hallucinating. Jason Calaveras had no reason to look at me like that.

  Allison drew my attention back to her. “Go talk to him. I bet he’d buy you a drink.”

  I couldn’t go back over there. What the hell would I say?

  “He already offered.”

  Allison swatted me. “What are you doing here?!”

  “It’s your party. I’m here for you, not some guy.”

  “Hot guy!” She looked at me like I was crazy. “Or was he skeezy?”

  “Actually, he was pretty nice. Seemed impressed I was actually a baseball fan and not a groupie.” Not to mention, when I took his hand, it was like a grand finale of fireworks went off inside of me. I’m surprised the bar hadn’t caught on fire.

  “It’s my party, and I say you should go back and talk to him. I’ll collect my bucks for a suck and continue to work on my bachelorette to-do list. I have plenty of support. You’re always there for me. Now I’m telling you… go have some fun. Go home with the guy, for crying out loud! It’s my wish as a bachelorette that someone gets laid tonight since I can’t.”

  “Alli! I’m not a hussy.”

  “Maybe you should try being a hussy for a night. See how it feels. You deserve a hot guy rocking your world.” She pulled me to my feet. “Please. For me?”

  “You’re completely ridiculous. How is me going over there for you?”

  “Because I love you and I want to see you happy. And he looks like he’s really good at making a woman happy.”

  “Oh my god, Alli.” I covered my face with my hands and shook my head. “I can’t do this.”

  “Sure, you can. I want details tomorrow.” She forcibly turned me around and sent me on my way back to the bar.

  I headed toward him, unsure of what to do or say. I wasn’t going to go home with some stranger. Plus, he was a baseball player on the brink of the Majors. He was only going to be interested in one-night stands, and that just wasn’t me. I didn’t have a problem with them, I just couldn’t see myself having one.

  By the time I reached the bar, I had his full attention.

  “Back for another round so quickly?”

  I couldn’t stop smiling out of embarrassment and annoyance.

  “Something like that.”

  “Or did your friend send you back for that drink I offered you?” I could hear the amusement in his voice.

  I still couldn’t make myself look at him fully. I hauled my big butt into the bar stool next to him.

  “Ding ding. Tell him what he’s won, Jim.”

  “Oh, I’ve definitely won. Are you here because you want to be or because your friend made you?” He’d moved closer, and his voice sounded so close to my ear, his deep baritone resonance vibrating through my body.

  “A little of column A, a little of column B.” The cocky chuckle brought me around to fully face him. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  “I’m nothing but grateful for more time with you.” The sincerity of his voice surprised me. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Jameson on the rocks.”

  He ordered my drink from Margot when she danced by again. Once I had my dose of anti-anxiety potion, I tried to think of something clever to say—something funny, something that didn’t make me sound like an idiot.

  “Are you from Jubilee originally?” Jason asked.

  “Almost everyone is. The only ones who come and go out of this crazy holiday town are the Jubilee Falls Coyotes’ players and people smart enough to get out after high school.”

  “What is it about the holidays in this town?”

  “You haven’t been told the story?”

  Jason shifted in his seat, so his knees caged in my leg closest to him. “What story?”

  “Jubilee Falls founder Jubilee Davenport and her husband, Bartholomew Davenport, settled in eighteen something. Jubilee was fond of holidays and parties. She threw a Founder’s Day party in celebration of their first year in Jubilee. Then the holidays just piled on. Jubilee’s descendants have carried on her traditions and added new holidays. We started Donut Day just a few years ago.”

  “Those donuts were amazing. I had to run an extra ten miles that week.”

  Cherry, the baker at Cherry Blossoms Bakery, always made sure the local businesses had a box of her donuts for Donut Day. I didn’t miss out on them, but I certainly didn’t work out extra with the additional calories.

  “Fourth of July is a huge festival. The best fireworks are at the Coyotes Field. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I bet it is. It was pretty great last year.”

  “Shouldn’t you be packing your bags for the Majors already? I’ve seen you play. Your stats are killer. What are you still doing here? The Meadowlarks need you. Especially since Jones went on the DL.”

  “My coach, and apparently all of my teammates, as I discovered tonight, think I have an attitude problem. It wouldn’t surprise me if Coach is keeping me here on purpose.”

  I twisted on my chair, my leg bumping into his. Now my leg was between his, and one of his was between mine. Neither of us moved away.

  “Do you have an attitude problem?”

  “This is what I’ve wanted my whole life. I need to play in the Majors. I feel like my coaches have been playing it safe and diminishing my abilities, but maybe I’ve got my head up my ass.”

  I was surprised by his honesty.

  “You know now, right? You can fix it, make it better. Win the 4th of July game, then head to Omaha.” Suddenly, I hated that he was talented and would inevitably leave for bigger and brighter things.

  “You sound awful eager to get rid of me.”

  “I just want to see my Meadowlarks get to the World Series this year. They’re long overdue.”

  “But no pressure.” His lips curled up into a half-smile.

  “Lots of pressure.” I scoffed. “They’re paid to play under pressure.” I took a sip of my drink, trying to calm down. Why was it so easy to talk to him? And why did being so close to him, talking to him, wind me up? “Why baseball?”

  “I went to a game when I was little; it was love at first sight. How about you?” He finished his beer and set his hand next to mine on the bar. For a moment, I thought he might reach over and take my hand.

  “My mom. Much to my father’s dismay.”

  “What’s your dad’s problem with baseball?”

  I shrugged noncommittally. “He didn’t have a problem with it until he got remarried. His wife has all kinds of problems with me and my lifestyle.”

  “Is she an evil stepmother?”

  “She’s nice enough, I guess. She likes to pick on… things about me. I sort of feel like I don’t belong there with my dad anymore. It’s a weird dynamic.” I picked up my glass. “And nothing we need to talk about anymore.” I knocked back the rest of my drink, willing myself to shut up.

  “I’m enjoying getting to know you. You don’t seem eager to please, you’re just real. It’s hard to find people to be real with me, even in the Minors.” He waved at Margot as she skimmed past, ordering another pint. “It sucks that you don’t feel at home with your own dad. Your mom die?”

  I nodded as I traced the rim of the glass with my finger.

  “What do you do for a living?” He cringed. “Here I was giving you props for being real. I don’t mean to sound like I’m reading off a cue card on what to say next, I just wanted to change the subject for you.”

  That got another smile from me.

  “I’m a massage and rehabilitation therapist. My main focus is sports massage and rehab, but I live in Jubilee, so I work with more than just athletes.”

  “You ever think about trying to go
to the big city and work with the Meadowlarks or another pro sports team? I’d imagine there’s good money in it.”

  “I’ve definitely thought about it.” I’d even typed up resumes and cover letters for such jobs, but I never had the courage to actually submit them. Leaving Jubilee always felt like I would be leaving behind everything I knew. And I just didn’t feel ready for it.

  “I bet you have good hands.” His index finger caressed the side of my hand, then all his fingers curled around it.

  I shivered. “I’ve been told as much.” I dragged my eyes from our hands to his eyes.

  “Tell me more about you.”

  “Tit for tat. Tell me about your family.”

  “That’s fair.” He threaded his fingers between mine. “I’m an orphan. I spent most of my time in foster homes or group homes. I got moved around a lot.”

  “Who took you to your baseball game?”

  “I went on a school field trip.” His hand slipped from mine and moved to my knee.

  “You worked your ass off to get into the Minors, and now, the Majors are the endgame.”

  “The endgame is being able to retire and never worry about money or stability ever again. Not very interesting, just predictable, and an outcome of my circumstances.”

  “Yeah, but I bet you do a lot more than that.”

  “What makes you think that?” His hand slid up my thigh.

  Why did his touch send me into a firework display of arousal and awareness of everything about him? Larry touched me in a similar manner earlier today, and it completely repulsed me. Was I really so superficial? Or was there something between us?

  The conversation was easy and natural between us. We talked for what seemed like hours. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I wasn’t eager for it to end. And I didn’t know when we’d managed to move so close to each other.

  Jason slid off his stool. When he stood, he was even taller, and I felt almost petite. He kept his position between my legs, spreading my knees further apart. He stayed put, not pushing forward like I wanted him to. It took everything I had not to hook my legs around his hips and pull him to me, to feel him pressed against me. My gaze dropped to his perfect mouth. Good grief, he was hot.

  He leaned forward and murmured against my ear, “I want to touch you.”

  It left me breathless. I didn’t know how to respond, at least verbally. My body was making all sorts of arrangements for him to touch me—tightened nipples, wet panties, and tingling lips.

  My lips parted. “Touch me?” I meant to request it, not ask him like I didn’t understand.

  His hands seemed to take my question as permission. They slid along the outsides of my thighs, then he hooked his outside arm around my waist, his hip leaning into my knee and spreading my legs even further, leaving my bar side leg open but blocked by his body. His free hand slid up my inside thigh stopping just short of my jean clad pussy. My breath hitched in anticipation of what he was going to do next.

  It was hard for me to reconcile the tall, dark, and athletic man in front of me was really interested in me. He was a prime specimen of ‘built’ and on his way up. I was surprised he didn’t have some blonde trophy woman on his arm, ready to sail right into the Majors and a nice multi-million-dollar contract. Most baseball players married young, to someone from high school or college, someone who knew them before the money started rolling in. If you were any good at your job, you would be the face of brand name shoes, fragrances, and whatever other products someone wanted to etch your name or face across.

  My silence didn’t seem to dissuade him from staying close. I wondered if he could tell how aroused I was, how good it felt to be so close to a big man, so close to him. I didn’t often get attention when I was out. I disappeared around the thin, perky, gorgeous friends I usually hung around with.

  I’d been completely surrounded by gorgeous women in formfitting outfits, and he still saw me.

  The touch of his mouth against my jaw was warm. I shivered. He laid a trail of kisses down my neck, and then back up and along my jaw. The touch was so light, I wasn’t even sure he was kissing me so much as grazing his lips against my skin with a torturously light and hot mixture. His breath was hot on my ear.

  “Go out with me?”

  “Where?” My voice, low and husky, didn’t sound like my own.

  “I don’t care. I’d ask you to come home with me, but you’re a lady and deserve a night out on the town before I devour you, starting with my mouth on your cunt.”

  I clenched my throbbing pussy, trying to ease the ache. What was this guy doing to me? I wanted to rock on the bar stool, just to try to get rid of some of the ache or maybe get off altogether. His hand was still dangerously close to me. Going home with him didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “You have had a look around all the women here, right?” I was a good person, but I knew what I looked like next to women like Allison or any of the other women who came in here dressed to seduce. Why was he interested in baseball-shirt-and-Doc-Martens me? Or was it all just some joke? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had made a joke at my expense, feigning interest just to go back and laugh at me with his buddies.

  His dark eyes never left mine. “What other women?”

  I laughed and shoved his shoulder a little. “You are good.”

  Jason leaned in. “I swear none of them have me as hard as you do right now.”

  I glanced down at his crotch, surprised by the bulge in his jeans. My eyes widened, and I quickly looked away. It was his turn to laugh at me a little.

  “That’s almost obscene.”

  His hands tightened on me. “You should see it when I let it out.” His hand on my thigh inched forward. “I would give anything for you to be wearing a skirt right now.”

  “I bet you would.” Damn, so would I.

  “I bet you’re curious.”

  Was there any point in playing coy? I wasn’t pretending to be anyone different. I licked my lips.

  “I bet I’m more than curious, but I’m also cautious. I’m not against one-night stands, Calaveras, but I also don’t really do them.”

  “Hey, I offered dinner. Of course, I may want to eat dessert first.” He looked at me like I was crème brûlée, and I felt like he was the torch on my sugary outer layer. “For the record, you’d be dessert.”

  “You sure like to move fast.” My body thrummed with desire. I hated how breathy my voice sounded. I was losing my ability to care about my reputation or how it would feel to wake up to an empty bed after he’d had his way with me. I knew a night in the sack with him would be time well spent. I would be the envy of the bachelorette party. For once, I would look like the wanted woman, desired, sought after, courted, even if it came from a foul-mouth and smoldering whiskey eyes. Or maybe I liked he was foul-mouthed and smoldering at me. No one had ever talked to me like he was—at least in a way that didn’t make me feel dirty, gross, and objectified.

  “Only when I see something I want.” He shifted his hand and moved it around me to join his other one, now high on my round ass. Even on the bar stool, there was plenty for him to grab. Pulling me to the edge of the chair, I felt like he was carrying most of my weight. It took everything I had not to wrap my legs around his waist. Thanks to the height of the chair, we lined up perfectly, and he pulled me roughly against him, his cock pressing against my pussy. I groaned and jerked against him, my body humming with arousal. He could probably dry hump me right to completion, right then and there. Fuck, it had been too long since someone had shown any interest in me, touched me, and I’m not sure anyone had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me now.

  I reached up and grabbed his baseball shirt and tangled the material in one of my hands. His smug grin told me he knew he had me. I didn’t care anymore. I tilted my head up and gave his shirt a tug. He didn’t need further invitation. His mouth covered mine, his tongue plunging in. I closed my eyes and groaned into his mouth. The noise of the bar and the music would cove
r up anyone overhearing me—at least I hoped so, because I didn’t want to restrain myself. Whatever was happening between us, I wanted it. I wanted it bad.

  His hands tightened on my ass and he rocked into me. We enjoyed being connected from mouth to pelvis for a few more fleeting moments before he broke the kiss. His panting breath was loud as he rested his forehead against me.

  “Fuck, you’re going to get us into trouble. I’m pretty sure we’d get kicked out if I just fucked you right here.”

  “More likely arrested. Maybe you should take me home.”

  Jason’s eyes flashed with lust. “Yeah?”

  And like the alarm during a really good dream, my best friend’s voice sliced through my achy haze. “Blaze!”

  Allison’s presence was almost always welcome, except at this particular moment. I knew that voice. She was upset about something. Days away from her dream wedding, I guessed it had something to do with…

  Allison wound her way through the crowd to get to us. She started talking to me before she was even standing in front of me. “Theo just called me and told me Dean just left his bachelor party with another woman. And now he’s not answering his phone.”

  Jason took a step back from me, and I righted myself on the stool. It was too hot in here, and I could feel Jason’s eyes still on me. I wanted nothing more than to turn my focus back to me.

  “Did you try calling him?”

  She held up her phone with an expression that clearly read “duh”.“I just said he’s not answering his phone.”

  I cleared my throat and pulled myself together. I was still in the hot and bothered cloud; I needed to come back down to Earth.

  I pulled out my cell phone and called Dean first. It didn’t even ring, going straight to voicemail. I scrolled through my contacts until I found Theo’s name and tapped with my phone. I held the phone to my ear, trying to avoid looking into Allison’s completely distraught face. How could Dean do this to her? They’d been together forever. He loved her. I knew he did. It was so obvious.

  A deep voice filled my ear. “You’ve reached Theo. Leave a message.”

  “Voicemail.” I hung up the phone.