“Did I?” Harper grinned. “Shecan’t stop staring athim.”
The three of them watched the couple, who were trying valiantly to stay on opposite sides of the room when they were so obviously dying to be together.
“Well done, ladies!” Harper winked. “I know this little project was outside your wheelhouse, but you came through for the Redrocks family.” She gave them quick hugs. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an appointment.”
“Of course.” Sheila watched Harper take Coach Wolfe’s hand, and they left together. “Whenever she’s around, I feel like I’m at the cool kids’ lunch table.”
“With all the hot guys,” Ashley added. “Come on, if you could pick one of the players to meet outside of the office, who would it be?”
Sheila’s eyes darted to Brock. He had that whole surfer guy thing going with the windswept blond hair that looked good soaked in salt water or dried by a Pacific breeze while snuggling next to a driftwood fire. Of course his shoulders were broad, and of course his arms were the size of tree trunks, and of course his sky-blue eyes were like jewels. Wait, maybe it wasn’t expected for a center fielder who batted third in the lineup to have sparkling blue eyes.
She blinked and moved on, not willing to get caught up in a fantasy that would never happen. So what if Brock was tan and toned? So what if he was one of the few guys that didn’t cringe when she showed up with a new volunteer sheet? That didn’t mean he saw her as anything more than a coworker.
She picked the guy standing beside Brock. “Tommy Newton,” she blurted.
“He’s the bull pen catcher.”
“I think he’s nice.”
“Nice, yeah.” Ashley regarded him as one would a sweater she was debating putting on her credit card. “But you aren’t into redheads.”
Crap. Ashley knew her all too well. “That’s not fair. I haven’t really given them the chance.”
“Now’s a good time to start.” Ashley hooked Sheila’s elbow and dragged her through the crowd to where Brock, Ricky Garcia, and Tommy were joking around.
Sheila’s heart began to race and her head scattered. Looking at the three guys, all she could think about was Neapolitan ice cream. Tommy was the strawberry, Ricky Garcia was the chocolate, and Brock the vanilla. She clamped her lips tightly together to keep that ridiculous thought from escaping.
Ashley nudged her. “Hey, guys, you ready for Atlanta?”
Sheila took a tiny bite of her cake, afraid she’d choke or do something else to embarrass herself in front of three of the hottest guys on the planet. There was so much testosterone swimming around her that her amygdala had reared to life. All she could think about was falling into Brock’s arms and lying on a sandy beach under the stars; their lips would come ever so slowly together until they finally collided in a perfect symphony of give and take.
“Ready to dominate!” yelled Ricky, startling Sheila out of her fantasy. He fist-bumped the other two guys and then Sheila and Ashley. Ashley giggled. Sheila held back her eye roll.
Yes,thesewere the men Ashley wanted her to date—perpetual fifteen-year-olds who put gum on each other’s hats during games. She felt someone watching her and glanced up to find Brock’s summer-sky eyes intent on her.Hedidn’t seem fifteen. Oh no. He was all grown man with sharp cheekbones and a firm jaw. Their gazes held, and she lost focus on the rest of the world.
“Come on, guys, I need to check in with …” Brock trailed off, ripping his gaze away.
Sheila bit back the disappointment. Obviously, he was trying to get away from her before she trapped him into a Saturday signing autographs at a golf course or a car dealership.
They said goodbye and left, smacking a few guys on the back or punching them in the shoulder as they passed.
Sheila let out a sigh. “Home Depot, you say?”
Ashley nodded. “Should we go tomorrow?”
Sheila laughed off her momentary display of complete desperation. She was in no waydesperatefor a man. She had a great life, a fantastic job, and a best friend. Shewanteda man, though. Wanted her skin to tingle in anticipation of his touch. Wanted a reason to wear her tight black dress and hot-pink heels. The thing was, when she pictured herself all dressed up, it was Brock that she was reaching for. She shook the image out of her head as fast as she could. “We need to focus on the Redrocks—not digging up dates.”
Ashley groaned. “You’re impossible.”
“Yep. I plan to be impossibly successful.” She dropped her empty plate into the garbage can and dusted off her hands. “And I’m not going to rest until every person in St. George is a Redrocks fan. Then—then!—there will bemore dating, more smooching.”
Ashley groaned at Sheila’s version of the DIY superstore’s logo.
Sheila smirked. She was on the verge of greatness in her field. She could feel it in her gut, and she didn’t need to get sidetracked by a man—even a hot surfer baseball star with wavy blond hair and dreamy blue eyes.
Chapter Two
Brock
