Free Strike Zone by Kate Angell Page B

be back in Triple-A. Stryke carries a lot of weight.”
    Addie patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got the worst out of the way.”
    “Season’s still young,” muttered Eve.
    Sloan tsk - tsk ed. “Not nice, sweetheart.”
    He then handed Addie the gift Eve had rammed into his chest. “Eve’s spoken so highly of you,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “Even though we’ve never met, I feel I know you, Addie. I wanted to drop off a gift.”
    “He has no plans to stay,” Eve said so fast her words ran together.
    “How very thoughtful.” Addie accepted the gift. “Any man who bears a gift is welcome to join the fun. Steaks are being barbecued out back, and the bar’s set up on the patio.”
    Addie stepped back to let Sloan enter. It took Eve a moment longer to allow him entrance. When Addie moved ahead of them down the hallway, Eve elbowed Sloan in the ribs, her voice tight. “ Dating? You lied to my grandmother.”
    “Tonight’s our first date. The lie got me into the party.” Sloan slid his arm about her waist and drew her to him. “I think we need to keep up appearances. People will expect us to be into each other.”
    “You’re not into me; you’re into Taylor.” She tried to pry his hand off her hip. He had big hands and a tight grip. “I won’t be the placeholder between your last lover and my sister. I refuse to play along.”
    “Party pooper.” He pulled her even closer. “Loosen up, Eve.”
    “You think I’m uptight?”
    “You’ve got a broomstick up your ass.”
    She dug in her heels.
    He sighed and stopped as well. “Now what?”
    She turned toward him in the narrow hallway, and their hip bones collided.
    She wiggled.
    And he widened his stance.
    Her apple green cotton skirt twisted and teased between his blue-jeaned thighs. He held her so tight, the pearl buttons on her yellow silk blouse dimpled the soft leather of his black vest.
    Her nipples puckered.
    Something other than his keys poked her belly.
    Heat migrated south. “You . . . you’re not—”
    “Thinking with my dick? Damn sure am.” He gripped her bottom. “Stop brushing unless you want me.”
    Want him? A man who no doubt called out his own name during sex? She stilled, clenching her teeth until her jaw ached. “I don’t want you at this party.”
    “I’m not going to ruin anyone’s fun.”
    Her fun was already ruined. “Just leave. I’ll tell Addie you remembered a previous engagement.”
    “My only commitment’s to you, sweetheart. My entire evening’s free.”
    She flattened her palms against his chest, pushing him back. “Are you for real?”
    “I can be real, given the right incentive.”
    She thumped his shoulder. “If you twitch one more time—”
    “Sorry, twitching’s beyond my control.”
    His hands stroked up and over her butt before he set her away from him. A room opened left off the hallway, and he ducked across the threshold. Afraid he’d steal the family silver, Eve followed. She caught him adjusting himself.
    “Better now.” He took two deep breaths and looked up. His interest was instantly held by the hundreds of framed photographs that drew the viewer into the lives of Liv and Stephan Hannah. From black-and-white to color, the pictures captured their extreme sports. Photos of Taylor’s adrenaline highs were also scattered throughout.
    Sloan admired a picture of Taylor waterfall ice climbing. “A lady and her icicles. Not many men would challenge life as she does.”
    Only Brek Stryker had dared. “Taylor’s in a league of her own.”
    “Your sister’s fearless.”
    He continued to circle the room, a room done in shades of sage and lemon sorbet, everything soft, warm, and inviting. As he closed in on one particular corner behind a green-and-gold paisley couch, Eve moved to intercept him. She snagged his arm and attempted to tug him beyond the next cluster of photographs.
    The man was not to be tugged.
    “This you?” He studied a picture of a young girl on