Prologue Dom

Prologue

Dom

One Year Earlier

My dad has always told me that the first time he saw my mom, he was drawn to her—that her beauty and her laugh mesmerized him. Although, he’s never gone as far as to say it was love at first sight, probably because my mom would laugh her ass off at that.

The way she tells it, cheesy lines and charm weren’t enough to win her over; she made him work for it. But they both agree that a love like theirs is a rare gift—the kind that comes into your life in a flash. And when you’re presented with it, you should grab on and give it everything you’ve got.

If anything is missing in my life, it’s what my parents have. For years I’ve dedicated myself to baseball, and while I haven’t shut myself off from love like some of my teammates, I just haven’t found that person yet.

Like that old, twangy country song, there’s been plenty of faces, but they tend to be of the one-night variety .

I’m already riding high from our shutout tonight when I step out of the locker room and see a stunning, dark-haired woman standing against the opposite wall with my teammate Hendrix and his girlfriend Poppy. Big almond-shaped eyes the shade of dark-chocolate size me up, swirling with interest that she tries to hide behind crossed arms and a potent “don’t fuck with me” expression. Long, toned legs give way to a pair of frayed denim shorts. She’s wearing my team’s jersey, and while I have no reason to believe my name is on her back, I’d love to find out if it is.

Call me a fool, but I don’t expect to find my person by spending my nights alone. It might not be the love my parents talk about, or maybe it will be; I’ll never know for sure if I don’t shoot my shot.

When those soulful eyes find mine again, I smirk. Normally, that’s all it takes to seal the deal, but she just rolls them, dismissing me, and focuses back on Poppy. Her curls are wild and even though I know nothing about her, I get the sense that they fit her perfectly. The bouncy locks shift, covering her face when she leans over to whisper in her friend’s ear, making Poppy shake with laughter.

Funny, smoking hot, and not fawning over me—I already like her more than I should.

I’m not sure who this fiery woman is to my teammate and his girlfriend, but I’d really like to find out. Maybe figure out why she’s looking at me like she wants to maim me on sight, and why I’m considering letting her.

“You coming to Dean’s?” I ask Hendrix, the newest member of the Bandits and one hell of an outfielder. Our grumpy first baseman is opening up his penthouse for everyone to hang out—a rare occurrence—but everyone was in the mood to do something a little more low-key tonight.

He nods his head once. “We’re heading there now. Want to ride over with us? I ordered an Uber.”

I glance over to where the drop-dead gorgeous Medusa, with the nearly black hair, is leaning against the wall, her eyes cast down at her maroon nails, clearly bored. One look from her right now is sure to turn me to stone .

“Will you be there?” It’s the wrong move and I damn well know it, but I’m dying to see what happens when I push her buttons.

“Mhmm.” She doesn’t bother looking up at me. “I’m going to use the restroom before we leave,” she tells Poppy, giving me her back, which is currently sporting my best friend’s last name and number. That’s not ideal, but whoever she is, she’s not his . Dean doesn’t date.

All signs point to her being fair game. How pissed would she be if I called dibs?

Very.

It’s tempting, but I rein myself in. It’s a fine line between annoying her and making her hate me, one I need to tread carefully if I want a chance with her.

The next night, after sweeping the series against the Los Angeles Diablos, our favorite post-game bar is wall-to-wall with fans streaming in from the stadium. Wayward hands pat my shoulders as I pick my way through the cheerful crowd at Draft to the roped-off tables in the back.

There’s no shortage of women here who would eagerly come home with me, but for the second night in a row, I can’t take my eyes off the woman currently sitting across the table from me.

Tonight, she’s wearing a short denim skirt that accentuates her curves, ending in a flap over her thighs. It has me dying to find out whether it’s a real access point or some sort of optical illusion designed to intrigue me. The simple teal tank top she’s wearing shouldn’t be anything special, but its square neckline frames the swells of her breasts, making me want to know if they are soft as they look. Not to mention, it reveals a delicate tattoo that you would almost miss if you weren’t paying attention.

Indie Moreno, the captivating childhood best friend of my teammate’s girlfriend, is here visiting, and so far seems outwardly unimpressed with me. Almost all of her energy has been directed at sparring with me and there’s something about the challenge that has me hooked.

Except for last night, after the game, when she confused the shit out of me by flirting with both Dean and me. I’m almost certain she’s doing it solely to fuck with me. And there’s the fact that she let me buy her coffee earlier today. I think that was more for Poppy’s benefit—to give her friend some alone time with Hendrix after we helped build her sound booth.

What really throws me off is the way she watches me when she thinks no one is paying attention. She hasn’t figured out that the hot and cold game she’s playing with me only makes me want her more.

Mostly.

Watching her flirt with Dean is getting old, painful even, but I plan to remedy that tonight—just as soon as I can get her alone. Right now she’s sandwiched between my teammates, alternating between chatting with Poppy who’s perched on her boyfriend’s lap and flirting with Dean who’s seated on the opposite side, leaving me across the table.

Cockblocking my buddy isn’t normally my style—I prefer the role of accomplice—but this is going to be too much fun to pass up. I see right through Indie, and it’s not really him she’s after. If it were, her eyes wouldn’t keep drifting to mine in the middle of their conversation.

A woman comes up to Hendrix, interrupting the conversation he’s having and blatantly disregarding Poppy. Across from me, Indie freezes, her piercing eyes narrowing on the woman who’s aggressively flirting with her best friend’s man. Her knuckles turn white on her beer bottle as she watches the interaction, looking like she’s ready to leap over the couple and come to her friend’s aid at the first sign she needs back-up.

Fuck, why does that make her even hotter? Maybe it’s because this team has become an extension of my family.

After Poppy effectively shut down the woman trying to stake a claim on Hendrix, the table cleared out, everyone opting to go their own way for the night. The happy couple was the first to haul ass out of here, leaving enough sexual tension in their wake to drown all of us .

“I hope you packed noise canceling headphones, unless auditory voyeurism is your kink,” I tease, hoping she gives me another of those unguarded smiles.

“My kinks are none of your business,” she tosses back at me, shifting in her seat, only to cross and then uncross her legs. I file away the fact that a little possessive display gets her hot.

“But you have them.” I’m a sick man and this woman is my malady. I know I shouldn’t push her buttons, but I can’t fucking help it—not when she scrunches her nose like that at me.

“Down, boy. You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had the chance.” This time there’s a twinkle in her eyes. Maybe she’s been infected with the same illness as me and enjoys this little game of verbal foreplay just as much as I do.

“Things are about to get interesting.” Dean chuckles darkly next to her. It doesn’t matter whether he’s on her side or mine, because I’m on a fucking mission.

“Only one way to find out. What’s it going to be? Are you going to chance it with the lovebirds, or are you ready for some fun?” I taunt hoping that it doesn’t blow up in my face.

Cleavage peeks out of her tank top when she props herself up on her elbows, shrinking the space between us. I have to force my eyes up and the smirk I find on her plump red lips tells me I’ve been caught looking. “What do you have in mind?”

“Getting out of here would be a start.” I look around the dark bar. Most of my teammates have cleared out, and this isn’t the right atmosphere for the type of fun I want to get into with Indie.

“You know what sounds like a good time?” She licks her lips, looking between Dean and me, like a hungry lioness. Whatever comes out of her mouth, it’s going to get the three of us in trouble. “Dancing.”

Dean’s grumble is so dramatic it’s comical.

“Don’t be a stick in the mud. The pretty girl wants to dance. Let’s take her to Lark’s.” The upscale night club my buddy owns is perfect—especially the private VIP section. Maybe it’ll give me the opportunity to get Indie alone for long enough that she’ll let her guard down and give me the chance I’ve been vying for.

“I don’t dance,” Dean asserts. He hates Lark’s, but he hates most everything, save for his cabin and baseball.

“Not even for me?” Indie gives him an exaggerated pout, showing off a playful side that I want to see more of.

“Not for anyone,” he grumbles in return. Indie’s pout deepens and Dean sighs. “You’re just lucky I’m not ready to go back to my penthouse yet.” He’s got that petulant rich boy vibe down pat, standing from the table and shoving his phone deep in his pocket.

“I’m sure I can find a willing partner.” Indie shrugs off his piss-poor attitude and joins him.

I think the fuck not. If anyone is dancing with this woman tonight, it’s going to be me. Pushing up from the table I trail the two of them out to the parking lot.

Even as we wait for the car, I can see her relax a little more, her shoulders shimmying to the music playing on the outdoor speakers as she scrolls her phone, a smile tilting up her lips every so often. It’s sexy as fuck. She’s got a wide smile, the kind that shows her teeth, and I love that she doesn’t try to dull it down or hide it. It’s such a contrast to her prickly attitude, and I immediately want more. Not only that, but I want to be the one pulling it out of her, tearing down her walls one by one to see what’s locked behind them.

Does she lounge around her house relaxed and happy? If I try hard enough, I can almost picture her humming when she’s alone. Or is she the kind of girl that moans when she takes a bite of her favorite food? I want to know it all.

When the Uber pulls up a few minutes later, Dean takes the front seat and I slide in beside Indie in the back.

“Are you ready for me to win you over with my dance moves?”

She jolts in surprise when I playfully bump her with my shoulder, her warm skin on mine making me very aware of how close we are back here, just the two of us .

The lightness of her laughter washes over me and I make it my mission to hear more of it tonight, because when Indie laughs, it’s the prettiest sound in the world. “What makes you think you can win me over at all, Domino?”

“My mom told me I can do anything I put my mind to, and I took that to heart.”

“I fear she led you astray.” Her hand pats my cheek, sparking a desire to capture it and hold it there. “I’m not one of those girls that’s easily impressed by a pretty face, or the fact that you can swing a bat.” The coldness that returns when she calls me out for my profession stops me from acting on the whim.

Interesting.

“So it’s the athlete thing that bugs you. Is it just because I’m a better player than Dean that you don’t mind flirting with him?”

“Fuck off.”

In the mirror, I see the driver hold back a laugh when Dean flips a double bird in my direction.

Squaring up for battle, Indie turns towards me. “Nope, it’s the way you strut around like a puffed-up peacock all the time. Being humble goes a long way.”

“Humble, you think this guy is humble?” I point to the rearview mirror where a bored look settles over Dean’s face. “Don’t let him fool you, he does it too. He’s just a modest strutter.” I lower my voice. “Actually, we don’t talk about it; his mediocre puffing makes him sad.”

“Right here,” he reminds us.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man? We can drop you off at home if this is too much for you,” I quip at my friend, half hoping he takes me up on the offer.

When he doesn’t answer, I turn back to Indie, brushing a wayward curl back so I can see those almond-shaped eyes. When I find them, they suck me in, making me feel like I’m tumbling into the abyss with little control over my landing. “I’m going to show you I’m not the guy you think I am. Except the pretty part—that is spot on.” I wink at her.

“Not doing yourself any favors.” The words are mumbled as she leans forward and talks to Dean over the front seat, blocking me out of the conversation.

My friend glances back over his shoulder, shaking his head at me. “Cocky is his default setting, but it’s probably our fault for telling him how pretty he is too often.”

“The roles of team grump and team dad were already taken by you and Cruz. I had to blaze my own trail. Besides, it’s not cocky if you can back it up,” I tell them both, pulling out my phone and firing off a text to my friend Topher, the owner of Lark’s.

“You can pull around the back. We’ll go in that way,” I tell the driver, pocketing my phone.

“Frequent flier?” Even in the dark car, I can see the glimmer of hope in her raised eyebrow—like she’s delighted that she just caught me.

“Something like that.” From what I’ve gathered, Indie isn’t going to take me at my word. She needs to see that I’m not just some cocky playboy.

Topher is waiting at the back door a minute later when I hold the door for Indie to join me. Predictably, she ignores the hand I offer to help her out of the car. When Dean joins us, they follow me to the VIP entrance, where my friend greets me with a handshake and then pulls me in for a hug. “Nice game tonight.”

“Thanks, man. How’s Lark?” I ask, stepping back so that I’m at Indie’s side.

“Good, I saw her earlier. She told me she’s looking for another shot at you on Wednesday.”

The woman beside me scoffs under her breath, “Playboy.” It’s a whispered insult, one I don’t think she means for me to hear.

“My bingo game is on a hot streak. Tell your grandma not to get her hopes up. It would kill me to break her heart,” I say, placing my hand on Indie’s back and leading her inside. She shakes it off, stopping and turning to face me in the narrow hallway, making Dean almost barrel into us from behind.

“I’m going to go get us a booth. Want anything to drink?” he asks, stepping around us, which gives me the perfect excuse to step into Indie’s space .

“Tequila,” Indie answers, her eyes not leaving mine. “His grandma?” she questions when we’re alone.

“Not what you were expecting?”

“No . . . not exactly,” she says, leaning against the wall, her eyes scanning me like she’s looking for the lie.

“Good, there’s a lot about me you don’t know, but that’s only because you’re too busy flirting with my friend to distract yourself from what you really want.” I move in closer, my forearm flattening against the wall next to her head.

She sucks on her cheek, but it doesn’t cover the way the corner of her lip twitches. “And you think you know what I want?”

“Me,” I whisper, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Awfully arrogant. What makes you think that?” She presses her shoulder blades into the wall, tilting her chin up and pushing her chest out—fortifying herself.

“The way you’re trying so hard to pretend you don’t; flirting with my teammate, but only when you’re sure I’m watching. Like last night at his penthouse, and again tonight at Draft. Not to mention the heat in your eyes when you’re throwing your snarky comebacks at me.” Her pupils flare as I step in closer. On every sharp inhale, I can feel her hard nipples graze my chest, but I won’t point that out just yet. “Don’t worry, I like it when you’re mean to me, and I’m not afraid of a challenge.”

“I’m not some conquest.” Her posture goes rigid.

“No, you’re not. You’re so much more than that,” I tell her, stepping back and sweeping my hand out. She pushes off the wall and glances over her shoulder before she leads me out of the hallway and into the dark club.