Page 14 of Home Run Fiancé
He finally looks over at me, his eyes hidden behind the reflective sunglasses. “Just saving my charming personality for the cameras and the crowds.”
I snort. Charming, huh? “Oh boy, I can’t wait.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see his mouth tilt up in a hint of a smile. He hops out of the car and stretches. When his T-shirt pulls up and exposes his abs, I look away, preoccupying myself with feeding the meter with the change I brought.
He beats me to the back of the car and swings my huge bag over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. Walking onto the sand, there aren’t that many people around due to it being a weekday, so we have our pick of spots. Jake walks off to the left and I trail behind him. Guess we’re going that way.
His long legs eat up the sand and I have to practically run to keep up. By the time I reach his side, he’s rummaged through my bag and spreads out the towels right next to each other.
I’m breathing hard and he looks completely at ease.
“Wow, I’m more out of shape than I thought.” I look around while I catch my breath, appreciating the sparkling ocean and the crashing waves. This date may be more awkward than my last conversation with Asher about how my classes are going, but at least I have this view. I’ve lived in LA my whole life yet I don’t get out to the beach nearly as much as I should.
“You and Asher have good genetics. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
I clap my hands. “Oh goody! We’ve reached the talking portion of the date.”
I didn’t know he had it in him, but I can see Jake rolling his eyes at me behind his sunglasses. “Hardy har, funny girl.” He whips off his shirt and lies down on his towel and now I’m the speechless one.
Holy crud buckets. I didn’t realize the human species could fit that much muscle on one potent male. I mean, I know he’s in shape, due to his job as a professional athlete, but I just didn’t fully understand the depth of that statement until seeing it up close and personal.
Jake’s lying on his stomach, head turned away from me, head resting on his stacked hands. He looks like he’s already taking that nap he so desperately wants.
“When you’re done staring, can you put some sunblock on my back?” Jake’s voice comes out muffled.
I huff out a frustrated breath. “I was staring at the vast ocean in front of me, but sure, I can put sunblock on you.”
He chuckles and I want to throw the bottle of lotion I brought with me at his overinflated head. Instead, I squeeze a huge circle right on his back, making him jump at the cold temperature of the sunblock. Serves him right.
But now I have to rub it all in and what a chore that is. All those bumps and valleys of bunching muscles lining his back that need to be rubbed by my bare hands. I bet there’s a long line of women who’d love to take my place right now. It’s a dirty job, but I’m a tough girl and see it through.
He mumbles something and I lean further toward him to hear. “What did you say?”
“Uh, I just said thank you.”
I smile at the back of his head and rub the rest of the sunblock into my hands. “No worries. You gonna take that nap now?”
He finally turns his head to me, those sunglasses blocking my view of his eyes. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I hate to be a bad date, but I could really use some extra sleep.”
I take off my tank top and shorts and lie down on my towel next to him. “No problem at all. They been working you hard at spring training?”
I can’t see where he’s looking with those sunglasses, but it takes him awhile to answer, and I start to think we’re back to the no-talking part of the date. He finally answers me, his gruff voice startling me.
“Yep. I’m trying to play my best so I’ll be attractive to the Sliders when we start trade talks. I’ve been getting up early to go for runs, then lifting with the team, and then afternoon spring training games.”
I wrinkle my nose. “You go for a run every morning?”
He nods. “Seven days a week.”
That sounds terrible. “Hmm. I guess I didn’t realize how much athletes have to work out.” I shrug. “I mean, I know you do, but when you put it like that, it makes it sound like a tough job.”
He rolls to his side and props his head up with his hand. “Not just ‘some men playing with a ball’ huh?” He throws my words back at me and I huff out a breath of air before he gets serious. “I actually love this job and wouldn’t give it up for the world. Yeah, it’s hard work, but so is any job worth having. What I hate is the publicity. Which is why I appreciate our—our relationship.”
He looks around and I realize his stumble. There could be people around listening and we have to keep the charade going. I may have several thousand YouTube followers, but that’s a far cry from his type of famous. Must be a pain to always watch what you say. A rush of sympathy makes me forgive his earlier grumpiness.
“Why don’t we nap first, swim, then have some fun on the pier?” I lie back and put my balled-up shirt under my head as a makeshift pillow.
Jake must agree with me as I hear him lie back down and get comfortable beside me. Before long, the ocean waves hissing up on the sand and the occasional squawk of a seagull lull me into that hazy zone between awake and asleep. The sun is that perfect temperature of warm that makes you feel like you have a blanket on you.
