“Yes, thank you. Do we have your number in case we need anything or have questions?”
“It is on the list in the binder.” Sure enough, a binder sits on the counter. The captain gives a final nod and leaves us alone. The door clicks shut and Ivory peaks over her shoulder at me.
“So I probably should have told you earlier.” She pauses, chewing on her lip. “I don’t cook.”
Shaking my head and laughing at her, I say, “I mean this with all the respect in the world. I’m not surprised.”
Ivory lets out an exaggerated gasp. “I didn’t say I couldn’t. I said I don’t.” She can’t hide her smile, revealing she’s amused not upset.
“Okay, well, can you?”
“I know a few things,” she responds unconvincingly, her eyes darting to the left.
“My mom cooked a lot growing up so I picked it up along the way. I have a chef that mostly prepares my meals so I don’t usually cook either.”
“You have a chef?” Her eyebrows lift, impressed by my admission.
“I don’t get a whole lot of time during the season.” I shrug. “And I’m on a pretty strict nutrition plan to keep me in top performance shape. It’s easier to hire someone to do it for me than trying to do it all myself.”
“Makes sense. Guess we’ll have to pull together so we don’t starve while we’re here.” She smiles.
“I’m sure we can handle it.”
Our eyes lock and it feels like we have an entire conversation without words. There is something simmering just beneath the surface. I want to explore it but I can sense Ivory’s hesitancy. I don’t want to overwhelm her more than she already is. Plus, she is my coach’s daughter. I’m already in a heaping pile of shit with him and the organization. The added complication of getting involved with his daughter, who he asked me to watch out for, would not help matters.
Ivory is the first to break eye contact, opening the freezer drawer.
“How would you feel about frozen pizza?” She emerges with a boxed pizza.
“Sounds great.”
While the pizza cooks, we go our separate ways to unpack and get settled. I also shoot off a few texts to Miller, my parents, and my agent letting them know we made it to the house. Miller is his normal pain-in-the-ass self and gives me shit for ending up on a deserted island with Coach’s Hollywood princess daughter. Little does he know she isn’t like that. My parents are a little concerned but are doing well at home.
Exhaling a deep breath, I flop back on the bed, digging theheels of my palms in my eyes. I’ve done my best to put on a brave face for Ivory but my stress level is at an all-time high. My agent has no update from the league and is only mildly controlling his annoyance. This is the first time in my career that I’ve been legitimately worried about losing my starting position. Unfortunately, all of that is out of my control now. One impulsive choice might change everything. To top it off, I’ve finally met someone that makes me think twice about something other than baseball, and I’m stuck on an island with her for a month.
Walking back into the kitchen as the timer goes off, the sight of Ivory bent over in front of the oven stops me in my tracks. The way her yoga pants hug her perfect round ass are putting all kinds of images into my head. For a second, I get a flash of Ivory bent over the kitchen counter in the same way while I thrust into her from behind. I’m hanging by a thread.
Shaking my head, and readjusting myself in my shorts, I try to clear the mental images that will surely haunt me tonight if I don’t take a long cold shower before bed.
“Oh good, I was going to come find you,” she says, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m here. Thanks for cooking.”
Ivory blushes again. “It’s just a frozen pizza.”
“It’s still dinner and it was nice.” I say, meeting her eyes until she reads the sincerity on my face. “What would you like to drink?” I ask moving to the refrigerator while Ivory plates the pizza.
“Water is good.”
Grabbing two bottles of water and some napkins I follow her to the table. We eat in companionable silence. The awkwardness of our situation is setting in. When I ask if she wants to watch a movie after dinner, she rambles about phone calls and laundry she needs to get done before bed. She rushes off and I’m left alone in the kitchen.
The quiet night calls to me. The sun begins to set more fully over the horizon so I take a beer and settle on the patio.Shadows from the setting sun dance along the patio and the exterior of the house. My breath hitches when my eyes land on the shadowed silhouette of Ivory’s body through the sheer curtains in her room.
“Fuck,” I mutter. If I didn’t need a cold shower after seeing her bent over the oven earlier, I definitely need one now seeing the flare of her hips and the swell of her breasts in her shadowed profile. I can’t actually see anything but I know I should look away. If she knew I could see her right now, she would be mortified.
One thing is for certain, Ivory Crenshaw already has me ready to bust and it’s only the first night. It’s going to be an interesting month on this little island with my own personal siren.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
