Holiday Home Run - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,12

outside for her car to arrive or, worse, standing on the cold L platform waiting for a train didn’t sound nearly as comfortable as a ride in the warmth of his Range Rover, cradled in the plush leather seats.

That’s the only reason she would say yes, she assured herself. Uh-huh.

“I wouldn’t offer if I minded,” Ben answered.

The genuine note in his deep voice persuaded her.

“Okay, then, thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear in what she knew was a nervous gesture. “I appreciate it.”

“Any time.”

Ben flashed his heartthrob smile and her breath hitched.

Too late she realized that maybe a frigid wait for a train would have been smarter. It certainly would have helped to cool the heat simmering inside her whenever she was around him.

“Shall we go?” Ben gestured toward the door, waiting for her to lead the way.

She could change her mind. No harm, no foul. But when it came down to it, she didn’t want to.

Fool that she might be, she bowed her head in a slight nod, then started toward the door.

One ride home . . . What could it possibly lead to?

Chapter Five

“Let me get this straight. Ben Thomas, THE Benjamin Thomas. As in, the Cubs pitching ace whose jersey hangs in my closet at the condo has been giving you a ride to parranda rehearsal the past two weeks and this is the first time you’re telling me?!?”

Julia swiveled in the passenger seat of Lilí’s Corolla to face her cousin, lifting a shoulder, then letting it fall in a blasé “and so?” shrug.

“No lo puedo creer,” Lilí murmured.

“You can’t believe what?” Julia asked.

Her right hand on the steering wheel, the other pressed to her forehead, Lilí gaped at her with a wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression.

Since starting her job as a victim’s advocate out of college a few years ago, her cousin had decided to grow out the sassy pixie ’do she’d worn, choosing to go with a longer, more professional look. However, the style change had done nothing to tame her cheeky personality.

As close as Julia was to Lilí, she’d purposefully not told her about how Ben had taken to stopping by the association’s main office the past two Tuesdays to go over sponsor updates and other details with her. How they’d fallen into the routine of meeting, then grabbing a bite to eat on their way to parranda rehearsal at the youth center.

They’d gone back to Gloria’s once, then grabbed deep dish pizza last week.

Working dinners. Between friends.

That’s the way Julia continued to think about the hours she spent with Ben.

Yet, she’d kept the information from Lilí because . . .

Because her cousin put the “die” in die-hard Cubs fan. Her love for the sport rivaled that of Julia’s brothers. As soon as Lilí had heard about Ben’s involvement with the soiree, she had jumped at the chance to serve as an extra pair of volunteer hands the night of the event.

So, when Julia found herself spending more time with Ben, she hadn’t said anything to avoid this exact reaction.

“I can’t believe you held out on me like this,” Lilí continued with her complaint. “Chica, you’ve been hanging with baseball royalty all this time. How cool is that?”

Lilí’s gaze darted back and forth from the highway to Julia as they traveled from the cousins’ family home in the nearby suburb of Oakton back into the city.

They’d spent Thanksgiving Day celebrating with Lilí’s sisters and their familias. That’s how Julia’s not-so-secret secret had gotten out, thanks to Jeremy, Laura Taylor’s son, who was married to Julia’s cousin Rosa.

Right after his “please pass the tostones,” he’d casually said, “So my mom tells me you and Ben Thomas have been working closely together on the soiree.”

Julia had been so shocked, she’d nearly dropped the tray of fried green plantains she held out to him.

Lilí had actually spit out her water, drawing a howl of laughter from her sisters’ toddlers and a shoulder-shaking giggle from her nine-year-old niece, María. Naturally, Yazmine and Rosa had been none too pleased with Lilí’s lack of table manners. Equally as naturally, Lilí had taken their older sister admonishments in stride, waving them off for more important matters. Like talk about Ben Thomas.

At first, Julia had tried skirting the topic at the dinner table. Every question Lilí tossed at her had been lobbed back with a noncommittal answer tied to the soiree. Julia had carefully kept her tone light, devoid of her conflicting feelings for the hunky ballplayer. As soon as she could,