Strike Zone by Kate Angell

and juicy and pink in the middle. He sliced off a big bite, chewing thoughtfully. He liked a party with a lot of action.
    “Beck’s,” he requested of Taylor. When she didn’t immediately respond, he threw a cashew at her. The nut bounced off her bare shoulder and got her attention. “Beer,” he reiterated.
    She poured him a Bud.
    The lady was definitely distracted.
    He set down his fork, reached across the bar, and laced his fingers with hers. “Want to touch my tattoo?” he teased to ease her tension.
    A small smile curved her lips, and she managed to exhale. “Eve told me about your three.”
    Eve. Sloan groaned.
    “Behave yourself, McCaffrey. You’re her date for the party. No two-timing her.”
    “She told me to flirt with you.”
    “But did she mean it?”
    Of course she meant it. Eve had no interest in him. None whatsoever. He looked across the tables to where she was chatting with Addie, her horseshoe partner, and five other guests. Eve had them leaning toward her as she related a story that held everyone’s interest.
    Taylor caught him looking at her sister. “Go join them. I’m fine behind the bar.”
    “The bar can’t protect you like I can.”
    “Protect me from what?”
    “Whatever or whomever broke your heart.” He glanced toward the sliding patio doors and saw Hilary Talbott leave her group and wind her way toward the bar. Brek Stryker was right behind her. “Put your game face on, Fearless,” Sloan warned. “We’re about to play hardball.”

CHAPTER SIX
    Taylor’s chest squeezed so tightly she thought her heart would burst. She’d known Mayor Talbott would make an appearance at Addie’s party; she hadn’t, however, expected Brek and Hilary to show as well. Yet there Brek stood, tall and handsome, his supportive palm high on Hilary’s spine. A man protecting his woman.
    Hilary . . . the woman who owned his heart. She looked stylish in her red blazer and gray skirt, complementing Brek’s more casual appearance in a white button-down and navy trousers.
    Unable to escape, Taylor returned Brek’s stare. His expression was fixed, unreadable—a man who gave nothing away.
    Her ears buzzed and her body hummed as Stryke and Hilary crossed to the bar, and Sloan McCaffrey closed in on her.
    Sloan . . . For all his jock ego and cockiness, he was doing her an enormous favor. He was hanging out at the bar, paying her the attention of six men. The man could charm.
    Had Taylor been several years younger, she might have taken Sloan for a test drive. He’d proven today that he could be her friend. But because she’d already had Brek Stryker, she wanted no other man. Stryke was her once-in-a-lifetime love. She’d never forget him, even after he’d married.
    “How do you know Stryke?” Sloan lowered his voice discreetly.
    “We were close once.”
    “Close as in sharing a cup of coffee or doing the dirty?”
    “That’s none of your business.”
    “I’m sizing up the competition,” he told her. “Are you only into starters or will you date a reliever?”
    “I’d date the closer if I liked him.”
    He cut into his steak and offered Taylor a bite. “Pretend the steak melts in your mouth. Moan a little.”
    She ate off his fork, a friendly yet intimate gesture. However tasty the food, she couldn’t bring herself to moan.
    “Want to round my horn?” Sloan used the baseball term as a sexual invite just as Hilary and Stryke reached the bar.
    Taylor barely managed to swallow.
    “McCaffrey,” Stryke acknowledged before he looked at Taylor, a flatness in both his tone and expression.
    Hilary, on the other hand, studied Taylor with shy interest. “I’m Hilary Talbott.” The soft-spoken brunette introduced herself with the polite formality of a politician’s daughter. She looked from Sloan to Taylor. “I believe you know my fiancé, Brek.”
    Taylor had once known him inside out and buck naked—a man of strength and pride, who was engagingly open to love.
    That man was long gone. His