Gavin’s lips lifted. “Now you sound like Mom.”

“Not funny. I’m serious here. Or maybe I should ask if you’re serious. Are you just f**king her? Or maybe you’re just f**king with her. Surely you don’t care about her. Do you have any idea how screwed up this is?”

Once again it was all about Mick. How many times in Gavin’s life had the world revolved around his brother? First it was football, then his alcoholism. The family had always rallied around Mick. Gavin supposed being the oldest had its advantages. You got to do everything first. Mick had always been the shining example that Gavin had to follow. And then when Mick had fallen from grace with his battle with alcohol, he’d dragged himself up by his bootstraps and shown everyone what a hero he was and become an NFL star.

Oh, sure, Gavin had his own successes in baseball, but really, after everything Mick had been through, Gavin’s success in the major leagues was pretty much an afterthought.

And now with Elizabeth, she was the agent Mick had fired. So Gavin wasn’t supposed to date Elizabeth because she had screwed over Mick’s fiancée? Even Gavin’s girl wasn’t good enough for Mick?

Fuck that.

The waitress brought their burgers, and the conversation was put on hold temporarily while they dove into their food. Unfortunately, Gavin’s voracious appetite waned as he thought about Mick’s attitude toward Elizabeth and Elizabeth’s reaction to seeing Mick there.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Mick asked, pouncing as soon as Gavin pushed his plate aside.

“I don’t know what you’re fishing for, Mick.”

“You and Liz. What’s the deal?”

“Stay out of my personal life, Mick. Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your own?”

Mick’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t bring her around the family.”

“Mom loves Elizabeth.”

“Not right now, she doesn’t.”

“Has she told you that?”

“She doesn’t have to. She knows everything that went down with Tara and Nathan.”

“And she said . . . what, exactly?”

Mick tossed his napkin on the table. “You know she doesn’t like people who interfere in other people’s lives. And she doesn’t like people who hurt kids.”

Which meant Mom hadn’t directly said anything negative about Elizabeth. “You’re just making this all up as you go along. Look, Mick, I get that you’re defending Tara. If she were my woman, I’d do the same. And I understand you’re still pissed at Liz for the way she manipulated all of you. But my relationship with her isn’t the same, and you can’t judge me . . . or her . . . for it. You need to stay out of it.”

Mick shook his head. “Sorry, but you’re my brother, and you haven’t always made smart decisions where women are concerned.”

“Oh, so now you’re saying I’m stupid.”

“I didn’t say that. But you know Liz. Or at least I thought you did. Can’t you see what she’s doing?”

“She isn’t doing anything. We’re having some fun together and that’s all. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. Leave it alone.”

Mick stared long and hard at him. It reminded Gavin of when they were kids fighting over a toy. But Elizabeth wasn’t a toy. And this time Mick wanted Gavin to throw her away.

“I think you’re making a mistake. She’s only with you because she’s trying to keep you as a client.”

“I’m not that stupid, Mick.”

Mick leaned back and grabbed his glass of soda, finished it and took the bill the waitress presented. He took out cash and handed it to her with a smile. After the waitress left, Mick’s smile died as he turned his attention back to Gavin. “Just clear your head and try not to think with your dick. She’s playing you.”

“Thanks for thinking so highly of me.”

“I care about you, Gavin. I don’t want to see her hurt you the way she hurt me and Tara.”

“I think you need to get over your grudge against her and move on with your life. Plan your wedding to Tara. Forget about what Elizabeth did.”

They walked outside to their cars.

“Thanks for coming down here to see my game.”

Mick finally smiled for the first time. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks.”

They hugged. “At least think about what I said.”

“Give Tara my love. And Mom and Dad, too. I’ll be back home soon.”

Mick inhaled and let it out. “This isn’t a game, Gavin.”

Gavin hadn’t felt that way before.

So why did he suddenly feel like it was? A game between Gavin and his brother, and Elizabeth was right in the middle of it.

EIGHT

“YOU’RE OUTTA THERE!”

Gavin tossed the bat in the dirt and headed for the dugout, mentally cussing out the umpire who’d called him out on strikes.

That last ball was low and inside and out of the strike zone.

“That last ball was right in your hitting zone, Riley.”

Gavin lifted his gaze to the Rivers coach, white-haired, heavyset Manny Magee.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get ’em next time, Manny.” Gavin flopped onto the bench.

“Your first game you were hitting them like there was an eight-year-old pitching tennis balls to ya. The past five games you haven’t hit shit. What the hell, Riley?”

Elizabeth had been gone for five days. The last five games he’d totally sucked.

Not that the two were related. At all. Gavin didn’t believe in women and their mojo on players, good or bad.

“I’ll work on my hitting, Manny.”

“You’re damn straight you’re going to work on your hitting. I need to see some lightning out of you, Riley, and soon. Because you suck.”

Great. He needed a hitting nosedive while in the preseason. Not.

“Where’s your good-luck charm?”

“Huh?” Gavin turned to Dedrick. “What good-luck charm?”

“Elizabeth. When she was here, you played good. Shawnelle said she hasn’t been to the past few games, and you’ve sucked. Which makes her your good-luck charm.”

“Oh. She had to head out of town for a few days on business. And she’s not my good-luck charm. I’ve been playing baseball for five years without her help, Deed.”

Dedrick spit sunflower-seed shells onto the ground. “Yuh-huh. That was before you started sleepin’ with her. Now she’s your good-luck charm.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, glad the game was in the ninth inning so he could get away from Dedrick’s knowing looks. He showered, did his media bit, and got the hell out of there, craving the quiet of his house.

There was no correlation between Elizabeth being gone and his shitty hitting streak. He’d just been a little preoccupied since she’d left the other morning, because he figured it was his fault she was gone. And she wasn’t coming back. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed her about Arkansas. The very next morning she’d packed up her things and said she had a client who was going to be drafted into the NFL next month and there was a snag she had to deal with. She said she’d be back as soon as she took care of it.

He knew it was more than that.

Even worse, he missed her, which made him feel all kinds of stupid, because he wasn’t supposed to miss her. They’d only been together a few days. No big deal, right?

So why did he miss her? He had games almost every day, followed by meetings and practice and media bullshit to keep him busy.

But the nights he spent on the deck looking out over the ocean were lonely. Like tonight. He leaned against the railing and listened to the give and take of the sea in the darkness. It used to fill him with peace.

Now it was a lonely sound.

And goddamn it, it had never been lonely before. In a couple days he’d gotten used to having Elizabeth around.

Time to get over that. What he needed to do was find a woman, go have a few drinks and some fun. He’d forget about her as soon as he slid his dick into some willing female. And his batting would likely improve, too.

He went inside, laid his drink on the counter and picked up his phone, stared at it for a few minutes, then put it back on the counter.

Shit. He didn’t want to go out with some boring chick who didn’t challenge him.

Elizabeth was a pain in the ass. Mouthy. Opinionated. Obstinate.

But she challenged him.

His phone rang and he swept it up off the counter.

Elizabeth.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he pressed the button.

“Hey, yourself. You home?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll be pulling into your driveway in about ten minutes.”

He hung up and ignored the rush. So, she was back. She was coming back to him, to his house, just like she said she would.

Dude, you gotta be careful. Wasn’t this his game to play? Because it sure seemed as if she’d played him. Had she run off because he’d gotten too close, because he wanted too much information?

He fixed himself another drink and picked up the place since he’d been mainly tossing clothes all over for the past five days. By the time Elizabeth came to the door, the house looked sort of presentable again. He went out and grabbed her suitcase from the trunk of her car. She smiled at him.

“I could have dragged that in.”

He rolled it and talked to her as they walked to the front door. “Then what good would I be?”

She grinned at him. “I can think of ways you can be useful.”

He grinned back at her. “How was the trip?”

She shrugged out of her suit jacket and folded it over the back of the sofa. “Exhausting. Exhilarating. Negotiations are fun but nerveracking, especially since it’s the draft. You don’t really know if a team is going to commit to a player or not, so everything you’re talking about has to be couched very carefully so you don’t blow it.”

He handed her a glass of wine and sat next to her on the sofa. “Who was the client?”

She arched a brow. “Blane McReynolds. Offensive lineman out of Indiana. Promising future and great talent. We’re pretty certain Tampa Bay is going to draft him. Why?”

“Just curious about which young hotshot you signed.”

She kicked her high heels off and propped her feet on the table in front of the sofa. “Honey, I’m always signing a hotshot or two. Have to keep the young blood rolling in for when the old timers aren’t any good to me anymore.”

“You’re so devoted to your clients.”

She batted her lashes. “Always. Anyway, we’re pretty secure about Tampa Bay, and they have the second pick in the draft. Their offensive line is shit, and they need to build with strong talent, especially at offensive tackle, which means they’re looking hard at Blane. He’s pretty thrilled about that, but you never know. Teams change their minds. Nothing’s for certain. The poor kid is a basket case. He’s worked his whole life for this.” She turned to him. “You remember what it’s like.”

“Yeah, I do. And you did a great job for me.”

Her lips lifted. “Thanks. I was practically a rookie myself back then.”

“Didn’t seem that way to me. You went in there balls to the wall and didn’t take no for an answer.”

She laughed. “I didn’t even know what I didn’t know back then. With you or with Mick. God, I was fearless.”

“You still are.”

She kept her gaze on his. “Thank you, Gavin. A little shot of confidence is welcome. I needed that.”

So maybe she had been gone for a reason. And maybe she wasn’t playing games with him. “You got a backup team for this kid?”

She grinned, and he could hear the excitement in her voice. “Yes. Two, in fact, are interested in Blane. Both with first-round picks, but they could go another direction, too.” She scrunched her shoulders, then took a long swallow of wine. “This stuff makes my head hurt.”

“Turn around.”

“Why?”

“I’ll rub some of the tension away.”

She gave him a wicked smile. “Now that sounds good.”

She turned and presented her back to him. He started off light, using his thumbs on the muscles, which were definitely hard as rock. His fingers kept slipping on her silk blouse.

“Take your blouse off so I can get to your skin.”

She pulled the blouse out of the waistband of her suit, then drew it over her head. Gavin sat back and admired the muscles of her back as she moved, the way the hairs on the back of her neck curled. He bent and pressed a kiss there.

“Mmmm, that might be more relaxing than the shoulder rub.”

“You say that now because I haven’t really started rubbing your shoulders yet. I’m a master at it.”

She gave him a look over her shoulder. “That experienced at it, are you?”

He brushed his lips across hers, then turned her head to face forward. “That good at it. Just relax and drop your head forward and let me perform my magic.”

She giggled but dipped her head toward her chest, and Gavin went to work, starting easy at first, then when her body became more pliant, he began to dig into the muscles. Elizabeth moaned, and he felt the muscles melt under his fingers.

“Oh, God, you are good at that. You must have women melting at your feet.”

He laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever massaged a woman before.”

She lifted her head and half turned. “Really? You’re lying.”