his back as he bent forward to stretch his hamstrings. He was surprisingly flexible. Hmmm. Maybe he did do yoga. “Is that so? He hasn’t dated anyone exclusively?”
Ripping her gaze from Mark, she turned to look at his sister. Leslie shook her head, her pale blond hair swinging with the movement. “Nope. There’s been no one. Until you, that is. When Mark called me and asked me to come meet you, told me that you were very special to him, I was thrilled. He’s been playing at being the single bad boy long enough.”
She wasn’t dumb enough to tell Leslie the truth, but her conscience nipped at her, making her inwardly flinch. Now she was going to have to lie to Mark’s sister and for some reason that bothered her. Maybe her conscience was kicking into overdrive, trying to make up for completely deserting her when she’d met Dina.
Glaring again at the hulking catcher, since her lying to his sister was his fault, Lorelei said, “I’m glad to meet you, too, Leslie. You’re the first of Mark’s family that I’ve met.” That, at least was true. “I thought they were all back in Florida.”
“Most of us are. I just moved here a little over a year ago. A change of scenery and all.” Leslie’s gaze followed a Rush player until he jogged in front of them. Then she put her fingers in her mouth, whistled and yelled, “Whoo! John Crispin, you stud!”
The rugged-looking, unshaven player flashed a smile and raised his mitt, pointing it toward Leslie. Then he twisted on his cleats, sent a spray of dirt flying, and dashed away.
Lorelei held back a smile as Leslie sighed and said, “That’s a whole lotta man there, Lorelei. I swear to y’all, his kisses will melt the panties right off a gal.”
Lorelei almost choked on her soda. The bubbles went up her nose, making her eyes water and her sinuses sting. Waving a hand in front of her face, she croaked, “Is that so?”
She wondered if Mark could hear them, because just then his head whipped around and he sent her a piercing stare, his eyes as cold as ice behind the metal of his face cage. Tension emanated from him, flowing out in frustrated waves toward her. Or maybe he was just psychic.
“Looks like Mark’s in one of his moods tonight.” Leslie blew him a kiss. He jerked his chin up, paused, and then turned back around, his movements abrupt. “Unless he gets that under control and focuses, he’s going to play like crap.”
Lorelei slid farther down in her seat. “Hmm, wonder why he’s in such a bad mood?” she muttered vaguely. Like she didn’t know exactly why he was in such a foul temper.
Leslie propped a booted foot on the seat in front of her and leaned back, turning her head toward Lorelei. She grinned. “I tell you what, to make things interesting, every time Chicago scores a run, I’ll divulge a little secret about him. Something he’d be completely mortified to know I told you. And for every run the Rush scores y’all gotta dish about you.”
Lorelei glanced at Mark and back at Leslie. “Seriously?” Leslie nodded. “He doesn’t have his lucky charm, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Won’t it be fun?”
A chance to learn some intimate details about him. Lorelei pursed her lips and considered. Then she glanced at Mark again as the game got ready to start and smiled.
She hoped he played like crap.
M ARK SWORE AS another ball slipped past his glove and a runner took home. The crowd roared in discontent, announcing another fuck-up of his. Damn that was a stupid mistake. He’d misjudged the ball bounce from left field and his glove had missed it by a mile.
Trying to shake it off, Mark shoved his mask up, yanked off his catcher’s glove, and watched as Peter Kowalskin jogged over.
“What’s the deal tonight?”
Mark clenched his jaw and glared at a Chicago batter as he warmed up on deck and blew a kiss at him. “Jackass. Why don’t you come here and do that again, Gregor, you pussy.”
“Hey. He might be a pussy, but you’ve
Ripping her gaze from Mark, she turned to look at his sister. Leslie shook her head, her pale blond hair swinging with the movement. “Nope. There’s been no one. Until you, that is. When Mark called me and asked me to come meet you, told me that you were very special to him, I was thrilled. He’s been playing at being the single bad boy long enough.”
She wasn’t dumb enough to tell Leslie the truth, but her conscience nipped at her, making her inwardly flinch. Now she was going to have to lie to Mark’s sister and for some reason that bothered her. Maybe her conscience was kicking into overdrive, trying to make up for completely deserting her when she’d met Dina.
Glaring again at the hulking catcher, since her lying to his sister was his fault, Lorelei said, “I’m glad to meet you, too, Leslie. You’re the first of Mark’s family that I’ve met.” That, at least was true. “I thought they were all back in Florida.”
“Most of us are. I just moved here a little over a year ago. A change of scenery and all.” Leslie’s gaze followed a Rush player until he jogged in front of them. Then she put her fingers in her mouth, whistled and yelled, “Whoo! John Crispin, you stud!”
The rugged-looking, unshaven player flashed a smile and raised his mitt, pointing it toward Leslie. Then he twisted on his cleats, sent a spray of dirt flying, and dashed away.
Lorelei held back a smile as Leslie sighed and said, “That’s a whole lotta man there, Lorelei. I swear to y’all, his kisses will melt the panties right off a gal.”
Lorelei almost choked on her soda. The bubbles went up her nose, making her eyes water and her sinuses sting. Waving a hand in front of her face, she croaked, “Is that so?”
She wondered if Mark could hear them, because just then his head whipped around and he sent her a piercing stare, his eyes as cold as ice behind the metal of his face cage. Tension emanated from him, flowing out in frustrated waves toward her. Or maybe he was just psychic.
“Looks like Mark’s in one of his moods tonight.” Leslie blew him a kiss. He jerked his chin up, paused, and then turned back around, his movements abrupt. “Unless he gets that under control and focuses, he’s going to play like crap.”
Lorelei slid farther down in her seat. “Hmm, wonder why he’s in such a bad mood?” she muttered vaguely. Like she didn’t know exactly why he was in such a foul temper.
Leslie propped a booted foot on the seat in front of her and leaned back, turning her head toward Lorelei. She grinned. “I tell you what, to make things interesting, every time Chicago scores a run, I’ll divulge a little secret about him. Something he’d be completely mortified to know I told you. And for every run the Rush scores y’all gotta dish about you.”
Lorelei glanced at Mark and back at Leslie. “Seriously?” Leslie nodded. “He doesn’t have his lucky charm, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. Won’t it be fun?”
A chance to learn some intimate details about him. Lorelei pursed her lips and considered. Then she glanced at Mark again as the game got ready to start and smiled.
She hoped he played like crap.
M ARK SWORE AS another ball slipped past his glove and a runner took home. The crowd roared in discontent, announcing another fuck-up of his. Damn that was a stupid mistake. He’d misjudged the ball bounce from left field and his glove had missed it by a mile.
Trying to shake it off, Mark shoved his mask up, yanked off his catcher’s glove, and watched as Peter Kowalskin jogged over.
“What’s the deal tonight?”
Mark clenched his jaw and glared at a Chicago batter as he warmed up on deck and blew a kiss at him. “Jackass. Why don’t you come here and do that again, Gregor, you pussy.”
“Hey. He might be a pussy, but you’ve
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