For a Little While (One Strike Away Book 1) Page 3

  Yes, the catty thought wasn't up to Blue's usual standards. Unfair. Even harsh. The kind of remark she normally frowned upon. But, damn it, she was only human. Meeting the one-time love of her life for the first time in ages was stressful business. Since she didn't speak the words, keeping them strictly to herself, she decided to give herself a pass. This time.

  Crisis averted, Spencer took back his hand. He nodded toward Warren, turning his attention to Blue.

  "I enjoyed seeing you again. We'll talk. Soon."

  Was that supposed to be a promise or a threat? Or a threatening promise. Or, had she read way too much into Spencer's words? At this point, Blue had no idea.

  Trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts would be an exercise in futility. A good night's sleep and a little perspective. That's what Blue needed.

  "We're finished. Why don't we walk out with you?"

  Spencer raised an eyebrow, but simply motioned for them to proceed. "After you."

  Blue wasn't embarrassed. Warren—the way he chose to act—had nothing to do with her. Happy at the thought of leaving, she slipped on her jacket, picked up her purse, and weaved her way through the restaurant toward the exit.

  "You're going dancing?" Blue heard Warren ask as she handed the valet the stub of paper identifying her car. Knowing what was coming, she rolled her eyes. "We'd love to join you."

  Oh, no we wouldn't. Blue wanted to wash her face. Brush her teeth. And get into her own bed. Alone. A.S.A.P.

  "If Spencer and Janelle don't mind, you go ahead. I have work in the morning."

  "One dance. Or two. Then I'll go home with you."

  Warren said it like the promise of his company was a treat Blue couldn't resist. Dangle his awesomeness in front of her and watch her jump to do his bidding. Just the thought made her want to laugh. The restraining hand on her arm stirred a more violent response.

  "Walk away, Warren."

  "But—"

  "You heard the lady." Spencer stepped forward, shoulders squared, eyes narrowed. "Walk away."

  "I—"

  Spencer lowered his voice, sending a warning shiver through Blue's body. "If you want to keep the hand, drop it. Now."

  "Go home, Warren." Blue stepped between the two men. In the way of an apology, she smiled at Janelle. "Spencer. May I speak with you? Privately?"

  "Sure."

  Sending Warren another look of warning, Spencer followed Blue. She stopped a few yards away from their dates, the valet, and several diners who had hovered, anticipating, probably hoping, for a show.

  They were in public. Which was precisely the problem.

  "Where did you pick up idiot boy?"

  "If you remember, I didn't have to pick you up."

  Always sharp on the uptake, Spencer immediately caught her meaning.

  "Funny," he said, tipping his imaginary hat. "However, I'm talking about tonight."

  "Warren isn't the issue. You are." Keeping her voice down, Blue said a silent thank you to high heels. The added four inches to her height meant she only had to angle her chin a bit to look him directly in the eyes.

  "I was raised to help a lady in need."

  "I didn't ask for or need your help."

  Spencer smiled, thinking to lay on the charm. "Blue—"

  "What if Warren had argued? Or worse, taken a swing at you?"

  "He'd be on his ass, questioning his sanity."

  Blue took a deep, calming breath. "And five minutes later, the video would be on YouTube. An hour later, TMZ would have it."

  Spencer shrugged. "So?"

  Shaking her head, Blue sighed. "You're right. It wouldn't make the slightest ding on your reputation. The added publicity would probably get another endorsement. But how do you think it would look for the Cyclones' new PR assistant to find herself in the middle of a fight involving one of the team's biggest players?"

  "One of their biggest players?"

  "Arrogant—" Blue turned to stalk off, changing her mind, she hissed. "Was that your plan? To get me in trouble with the front office?"

  "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I do that?"

  "I know you didn't want me to get the job with the Cyclones. But now that I have it, getting rid of me won't be that easy."

  This time when Blue turned on her heel, she kept going.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Spencer hurried after her. "Blue?"

  "Have a nice evening, Janelle," Blue waved at the baffled-looking model.

  Blue didn't bother to acknowledge Warren who stood next to Janelle, mouth agape. As for Spencer? He could go to hell.

  Thanking the valet with a smile and a tip, Blue slid into her car. Inside, her heart raced. She suppressed the urge to hit the gas, shove the pedal to the floor, and burn rubber out of the parking lot.

  If she were a different kind of person—reckless instead of sensible—she might have given into the temptation that made her want to drive fast. Or worse, grab Spencer in front of anybody who cared to watch. And kiss him. Really giving him something to think about.

  Not so long ago, Blue would have done exactly that. The kiss part at least. A time when she felt free to show the world how she felt about Spencer Kraig.

  Reaching the hill that led to her apartment, Blue shifted the car into a lower gear. Traffic was sparse, giving her mind a chance to wander. Naturally, it wandered to thoughts of Spencer.

  In the scheme of things, four years seemed like a small amount of time. Yet, somehow, it felt like a lifetime.

  The first time Blue imagined kissing Spencer, she was fifteen years old. A silly thought—a whim—that came as quickly as it went. She hadn't spent her teenage years yearning for her best friend's older brother.

  Another five years would pass before the thought crossed her mind again.

  One kiss. That was all it took for Blue's world to change forever.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SIX YEARS EARLIER

  "SPENCER IS COMING home tomorrow."

  Jordyn made the announcement in a reverential tone—one she'd never used when speaking about her brother.

  Blue kept her nose in her sociology book, reaching for a handful of popcorn from the bowl on her desk.

  "Big deal. Doesn't he always come home for Christmas?"

  "But this is the first time since he was named league MVP."

  Something to brag about at any age, Spencer had just turned twenty-four. That made the accomplishment even more impressive. However, Blue couldn't resist ribbing the justifiably proud sister.

  "Be still my heart."

  "Come on. You're as excited about it as I am. How many MVPs can you say you've personally met? Let alone sat next to at the dinner table."

  "I don't know. Give me a minute to think."

  A pillow sailed through the air, hitting Blue squarely in the back of the head.

  "Nice shot. Tell me again why you gave up your dream to be the first woman to pitch in the majors?"

  "Not enough velocity," Jordyn lamented, rubbing her shoulder as if remembering the way it felt after a game. "I was good, though, wasn't I?"

  "Best slider I've ever seen. You had those little league runts shaking in their cleats."

  "Mm." With a sigh, Jordyn shook off the memory. "I had my glory days. This is Spencer's time."

  "You struck out big brother once or twice if you recall."

  "As I remind him whenever his britches get too big." Grabbing the bowl of popcorn, Jordyn sat cross-legged on Blue's bed, flipping her long, dark hair over one shoulder. "Thankfully, that isn't as often as it used to be. It's weird. The more national recognition Spencer receives, the more humble he becomes."

  "Spencer Kraig? Humble? Are we talking about the same person?"

  Blue had known Spencer most of her life. When she and Jordyn met in the first grade, they became instant friends. After that, they practically lived in each other's pockets. If they weren't at one house, they were at the other. As a result, they inhe
rited a second family.

  Like Blue's own brother, on occasion, Spencer could be annoying. A royal pain in her backside. However, when push came to shove, she would defend him to her last breath. No questions asked. Because that's what family did.

  "Spencer has changed." When Blue snorted, Jordyn shrugged. "You will just have to see for yourself. Dinner tomorrow night."

  "I have a date with the library."

  Though they were on Christmas break from the University of Washington, Blue wanted to get a jump on next semester's classes.

  Blue smiled, thinking of a certain assistant librarian who could always find time during his break for a little necking behind the Greek classics section. Another reason she loved higher education. In the two years since enrolling, her mental prowess had improved greatly.

  As for her love life? Blue wouldn't call herself an expert by any means. And sometimes she wondered if the things she did—and the men she did them with—were a bit vanilla. Still, she liked sex. Fun—for the most—she found nothing major to complain about.

  Jordyn—well aware of why Blue spent so many nights "studying"—dismissed the excuse with a flick of her hand.

  "Forget Boring Bruno. Mom is making her manicotti."

  Closing her eyes, Blue swore she could smell the spicy tomato sauce, saliva pooling in her mouth. She loved Jordyn's mother. She was smart and funny and caring.

  However, what won Blue's heart right from the beginning was Connie Kraig's cooking.

  "That's not playing fair."

  Smiling—knowing she'd won—Jordyn bounced from the bed. She wrapped her arms around Blue, giving her a quick hug.

  "Spencer is bringing the MVP trophy with him."

  "Oh, goody. We get the chance to bask in his glory. I can hardly wait." Blue winked, returning Jordyn's hug. "I promise to be suitably impressed."

  "No fun in that," Jordyn laughed, grabbing her backpack from the corner of the room where she'd blindly flung it upon her arrival. "My brother has changed. But he's still Spencer. If at some point in the evening he backslides, you have my permission to pull out your verbal darts, take aim at his swelling ego, and pop away."

  Alone, Blue chuckled. She wasn't immune to the excitement of sharing in Spencer's accomplishments. Truthfully, she looked forward to taking an up-close look at his trophy.

  Not that she'd share that bit of information. Her eagerness would only add to Spencer's already oversized ego.

  Spencer and Blue had a very nice, friendly yet semi-antagonistic relationship. A dynamic that they both enjoyed. Since he signed with the St. Louis Cardinals, she'd missed taking jabs at Spencer on an almost daily basis. The baseball season was a long one. In a blink, the holiday would pass, the new year would be upon them, and he'd leave for Spring Training.

  After that, Blue probably wouldn't see Spencer again until late fall.

  As Blue absently tapped her pen on her desk, her smile widened. The more she thought of skipping the library for a night with the Kraig clan, the more it appealed to her.

  Jordyn was right. Blue could see Boring Bruno any time. Spending time with Spencer—getting under his skin for old time's sake—was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

  "ALL I'M SAYING is that Stan Wilkins had a great year."

  "You said he was robbed in the MVP voting."

  "Did I? No. I think you misheard. Is your hearing going along with your arm, old man?"

  Hearing Spencer's laugh brought an answering smile to Blue's lips.

  The night was chilly. A misty fog covered the sidewalk, obscuring their feet from view. In other words, a typical Seattle in December.

  Dinner had been a raucous, happy affair. Lots of food, laughter, and good-humored teasing. The table was filled with family—Blue included. Two older siblings—Rick and Reid—plus their spouses. Each had a toddler near the same age who had been lovingly tucked away by Grandma and Grandpa, sleeping soundly, in the spare bedroom.

  In deference to Spencer's parents, Blue kept her jabs at a minimum. They were so proud—practically bursting with it—that she didn't want to do anything to put a damper on the evening.

  However, now that they were alone, all bets were off.

  Spencer had insisted on walking Blue home. She tried to argue—her parents' house was only three blocks away. She couldn't persuade him. Not that she was surprised. The Kraig men took a woman's well-being seriously. If Spencer weren't home, one of them would have accompanied her—even if she only lived across the street.

  Taking their time, they strolled along the sidewalk. And the banter began.

  "My arm is just fine, Bluebell."

  Blue frowned when Spencer used the nickname he'd given her shortly after their first meeting. She hadn't liked it then, and that hadn't changed. A fact of which he was well aware.

  "If you need proof, I'll be happy to turn you over my knee and tan your backside."

  "Save the kinky stuff for your stable of supermodels. Honestly, Spencer. What would your mother say if she knew you were into that kind of stuff?"

  "Blue…" Spencer trailed off with an unmistakable warning in his tone.

  "Whips? Chains? Nipple clamps?"

  "Jesus. What do you know about such things?"

  Blue suppressed her smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact. I would."

  Nothing teasing about that sentence. Spencer sounded gruff. Every inch the big, protective brother. The difference being that Blue would never think of discussing sex toys with her real brother. The very idea made her shudder, revolted at the thought.

  "Relax. There are these amazing things called books. They allow me to learn about all kinds of things I've never experienced personally."

  "Books, huh?"

  "On campus, they house them in a big building called a library. You should stop by someday."

  "Right," Spencer nodded, dragging out the word. "The library. I understand you've become quite fond of the classics. And somebody named Bruno."

  Blue didn't deny it, more interested in how Spencer found out.

  "Who told you?"

  "Jordyn."

  "No, she didn't."

  Her best friend's loyalty was rock solid. Jordyn didn't share Blue's secrets with anybody.

  "You're right, she didn't." As they came to the busy cross street, Spencer automatically switched places with Blue on the sidewalk, putting himself between her and the moving traffic. "I heard the two of you before dinner. Whispering and giggling. Some things never change."

  "Ears like a bat," Blue muttered under her breath. Naturally, Spencer heard every word.

  "Which proves I heard your comment about Stan Wilkins. So, you honestly believe he's a better third baseman?"

  Pretending to contemplate the question, Blue put her hand on her chin, rubbing thoughtfully.

  "No. I suppose not."

  "Did I deserve the MVP award?"

  Of course, he did. But she wasn't ready to give in that easily. Front walkway in sight, Blue ran for the safety of her house. She was fast, her legs long. Unfortunately, Spencer had her beat in both categories.

  For a brief second—as she reached for the door—Blue thought she would make a clean getaway. Before she could turn the knob, Spencer had her around the waist. She let out a yelp, finding herself pushed into the shadows near the edge of the porch, her back against the smooth siding.

  Spencer had his hands on her wrists, pinning one at her side, the other near her head.

  "Fine. You're bigger and stronger. So what?"

  "Don't forget faster," Spencer said, his warm breath brushing against Blue's cheek. "Admit it. I deserved to be MVP."

  Blue licked her lips. Not an intentionally provocative move. Her purpose was to moisten her suddenly dry lips, not draw Spencer's gaze to her mouth. But when his eyes lowered, she couldn't help herself. Her tongue slowing traced her bottom lip. Corner to corner.

  "Blue."

  Sp
encer said her name as if in a daze. As he lowered his head, his intent clear, Blue felt a moment of panic.

  "What are you doing?"

  Meeting her gaze, Spencer looked as confused as she felt. With a groan, he whispered, "Hell if I know."

  A heartbeat later, his lips covered hers.

  Blue sank into the pleasure. The taste. The wonder. She felt as if a drug had been shot into her veins. Potent beyond words. And instantly addictive.

  This isn't a kiss, she thought, hoping it would never end. Not like any she'd experienced.

  Kisses were fun. They left her giddy and happy. This reached deep inside, asking for…? Blue had no idea. All she knew was that if Spencer asked—for anything—she'd give it to him without a second's hesitation.

  "Blue. Oh, God, Blue."

  Breathing hard, Spencer rested his forehead against hers.

  "What was that?" Blue asked, dazed.

  "I don't know." Spencer made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Kind of took me by surprise."

  "Join the club."

  "Mm." Releasing her wrists, Spencer's hands slid down Blue's arms, cupping her elbows, moving to her waist. "I should—"

  "If you dare apologize, I will knock you on your ass."

  "If I were stupid enough to be sorry, I wouldn't blame you." Lips close to her ear, he said, "I should go. Give you time to think."

  "Kiss me again," Blue said, twining her arms around Spencer's neck. "I'll think tomorrow."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PRESENT DAY

  SPENCER WALKED INTO the main headquarters of the Seattle Cyclones. He removed his jacket, shaking off the accumulated rain. As he took a step toward the bank of elevators, a young woman with a cap of dark hair and a perky smile greeted him.

  "Good morning, Mr. Kraig. My name is Ruby. We haven't met. I'm the new receptionist. May I take your jacket? I don't see your name on anybody's list. Who may I call to tell you're on the way up? Crazy cold day, isn't it? Would you like a cup of something hot? Espresso? Cappuccino? Latte?"