Page 352 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Curveball

J.C. THOMPSON

One

HARLOW

Weddings, engagements, hell, the whole idea of promising that you’ll love someone for the rest of your life, is nothing but a messed-up fairytale. Nobody can possibly know they’re going to love that one person for the rest of their life, or that they won’t give in to temptation at some point and be unfaithful. Trust me, I learned this the hard way—finding out the man I was engaged to for five years was already married to someone else and had the family that I was promised. The entire breakdown of a relationship, married or not, isn’t worth the pain or anger. That’s why I’ve decided to avoid unnecessary complications from now on. The day I walked away was the day I decided that fairytales aren’t my thing.

“Another drink?”

“Gin and tonic, heavy on the gin, light on the tonic.”

I let my eyes make one more sweep around the room, hoping to find, or rather hoping not to find, the one man I’ve been avoiding for months. The one man who could possibly make me reconsider the temporary ban on men. Releasing a small breath of relief, I turn back to the bartender, thanking him for the fresh drink, before turning and making my way across the room.

“Zoe, you look absolutely gorgeous,” I say, joining the bride-to-be and her bridal party, consisting of Ainsley, the on-again off-again of two guys on the team. There’s enough drama there to encourage the rest of us to avoid relationships. Then, of course, Eva, who is new to Moose Falls but is the sister of Jensen, the top pitcher for the Minnesota Moose, and Sophia the team’s photographer.

“Thanks, babe, you look downright hot. If I wasn’t so set on remarrying Alex, I would totally consider taking you home. If I were into chicks.”

I laugh, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. I knew wearing the deep purple velvet dress would bring some attention my way, especially when the slit up the side is high enough to make a man wonder exactly what I’m wearing under the dress. Having your engagement end the way mine did left me with a lack of confidence that I desperately want back. In my early twenties I never doubted for a minute my appeal, but now I can’t fight off the feeling that maybe I’m less than desirable.

“I’ve got twenty bucks that says Harlow is the first one to leave tonight… and not alone,” Ainsley says, eyes shimmering with trouble.

“Double or nothing I’ll be the last to leave,” I tell her, bringing the glass to my mouth and letting the taste of gin dance on my tongue.

“You sure about that? Because I see a certain dark-haired, tatted third baseman making his way over here.” Zoe reaches out and takes the glass from my hand before turning me around so I can see she’s right. Hendrix Hunter is making his way across the room… directly toward me.

Trying to ignore the tingle of anticipation that works its way down my spine, my eyes move across the room, looking for any excuse to get out of here before Hendrix closes the last little bit of distance between us. It’s not that I don’t want to be around him, I just can’t trust myself to be around him. He’s too tempting, and tonight’s rehearsal dinner already has my emotions all over the place.

The last time I saw Hendrix I was still engaged. I had just found out about Ian’s family, and although the relationship was over, I hadn’t officially ended it. Hendrix and I shared too many drinks, and before I knew what happened, we were in his hotel room. I walked away before things went too far and I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the morning. It was hard enough walking away from him that night. Now that I’m officially single, I wouldn’t trust myself to make the decision I know is right. Bad decisions are my modus operandi. I have a weakness, and a baseball player with tattoos, a bad attitude, and a reputation is it.

“Incoming,” Ainsley says before looping her arm through Zoe’s and pulling her along, Sophia and Eva following behind them.

“Harlow.” My name coming from his lips in that slow, rough whisper has parts of me whispering back with an offer of more.

“Hendrix, how are you?” I ask, scanning the room for an excuse to not be alone with this man right now.

“I’m not sure if I’m more annoyed with the fact that I want to throat punch all of these assholes picturing what you’re wearing under that dress, or the fact that I can’t kick my own ass for wondering the same thing.”

“Always nice to see you again.”

“Is it? Because I could have sworn you were hoping the floor would swallow you alive when you noticed I was heading your way.” He smirks, knowing he caught me and I can’t deny it.

“It’s not that I was avoiding you, it’s just that I’m currently avoiding all men, and you just happen to be one of them.” Taking a break from men seemed like a good decision when I found out my engagement was over, but right now, staring at this man in his black dress pants, matching button-down, and purple tie has me wanting to break my own rules. The fact his tie matches my dress is not lost on me. For a second, I wonder who he asked, before remembering that I didn’t show the girls my dress before tonight. I wasn’t completely sure I’d wear it and had a backup dress just in case, which means the tie and my dress matching is a coincidence I’m not altogether comfortable with.

“I see.” His gaze runs down the length of my dress before coming back up to meet my own. “Why don’t you let me grab you another drink, and you can tell me all about this plan of avoidance.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I look around the room, hoping nobody has seen us together yet. The team’s bad boy and the manager’s daughter are two people who should never be spotted alone together.

The smirk that crosses his face is the most sinful thing I have ever witnessed. Forget about all those better-than-sex cakes that everyone claims is all you need. No. I need more of that smile and nothing else. “Worried someone will see us talking?”

“Aren’t you?” I know all about the drama and media attention that follows Hendrix, and after my breakup going public, the last thing I need is for anyone to start rumors about anything happening between Hendrix and me.

“Not really.” He laughs when I glare at him. “I’m guessing you’ve heard about the threats your dad has tossed my way.”

“You mean the ones about how you need to stay out of the media and not cause any more waves if you want to remain a part of the team?”

Hendrix stares at me, a look of disappointment crossing his face for the quickest second before the playfulness returns.

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