Back in the Game: A Stardust, Texas Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

locksmith.
    “Breeanne?” Kasha called. “Where are you?”
    She raised her voice. “Here. I’m over here.”
    Her sisters rounded the corner of the stall, their heads bowed beneath the umbrellas Jodi had brought.
    It had started raining, and Breeanne hadn’t noticed. Her clothes were plastered to her wet skin. All the stalls, except the one she was crouching in, had been covered with plastic tarps, and people stood huddled beneath them, staring at the odd girl who didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.
    “What are you doing?” Jodi scolded, rushing over to shield her with the umbrella, Kasha and Suki following close behind. “You’ll catch your death.”
    “I just bought this hope chest.” She felt her smile start in her heart, spread upward, outward, flooding her face with white, joyous heat. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
    “Who did you buy it from?” Jodi asked.
    Breeanne understood her sister’s bewilderment. She had overlooked the tiny old woman at first too. Without glancing up, she waved in the direction of the rocking chair. “Why, from that lady there.”
    Jodi leaned over to put a hand to Breeanne’s forehead.
    Breeanne jerked back. “What are you doing?”
    “Checking to see if you’re running a fever.”
    “What for?”
    Jodi chuffed out a breath. “You’re standing in the rain, seeing imaginary people.”
    “What do you mean?” Breeanne sprang to her feet, spun around to face the old woman.
    But the rocker was empty.

 
    CHAPTER 4
Baseball is the only place in life where
a sacrifice is really appreciated.
— A UTHOR U NKNOWN
    “Wake up.”
    A towel snapped against Rowdy’s bare feet from where he lay poolside on the patio lounger. He slept better here than in his own bed, although he couldn’t really say why. Whenever he lay in his room alone at night, it felt as if the walls were collapsing in on him.
    His toes stung. He pried open his eyes to stare at the mammoth-sized man towering at the end of the patio lounger, holding a white terry-cloth gym towel rolled up between two beefy hands. Simultaneously, Nolan Ryan, snuggled against Rowdy’s chest, raised his head, and sighed.
    “Buzz off, Warwick,” he drawled. “We’re taking a nap.”
    His bodyguard, and best friend since kindergarten, threw the towel at him. It landed on Rowdy’s chin. “Let’s be clear. Nolan Ryan was taking a nap. He got up at dawn. You’re just lazy.”
    “Whatever.” Rowdy dragged the towel over his eyes, blocking out the sun. Ah, that was much better.
    The truth was he’d been having a sexy dream about Miss Cheetah Panties, and he wanted to get back to it. He was still perplexed over his attraction, but ever since his encounter with her at yesterday’s estate sale, she’d haunted his mind.
    Why?
    Now that was the million-dollar question.
    Forgetting her seemed easy enough in theory, follow-through was where the problem sprouted like a field full of dandelions after a drenching summer rain. Every time he closed his eyes all he saw were cheetah panties, silky black and brown and orange cheetah panties.
    As if he’d never seen panties in his entire life.
    He imagined the feel of them in his hands, soft and feminine, and soaked with her scent. Christ, he didn’t want that image in his head, but it had been lodged there since yesterday morning, leaving him dizzy and slightly nauseated since their encounter, but for the life of him, Rowdy couldn’t explain why.
    Warwick yanked the towel from Rowdy’s face. Sank his hands on his hips. Snorted.
    “You look like a sour housewife who’s sore because hubby didn’t make it home after a long night out with the boys,” Rowdy drawled.
    “It’s eleven a.m. Time for your physical therapy.”
    “Yes, Mommy.”
    “You pay lip service to getting your career back on track, but you’re not acting like a guy burning for a return to the pitcher’s mound.”
    “Are you trying to piss me off?”
    “Is it working?”
    “Nah, I’m wise to