Holiday Home Run - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,2

welcome. In the short amount of time Julia had been working with her, Laura had become a true mentor.

Laura gestured toward her. “Ben, I’d like you to meet Julia Fernandez, the brains and creativity behind this year’s theme for the Humboldt Park Youth Center.”

“Well, it’s more of a group effort. That old sports cliché ‘There’s no I in team’ comes to play here.” Julia stepped to her right as she spoke, meeting Ben and Laura at the head of the conference table.

Someone else in the room chimed in to agree with Laura, adding their praise for Julia’s entertainment idea, but Ben’s large hand engulfed hers in a firm handshake and whatever else was being said faded.

A rough callous on his palm rubbed against her soft skin. The smile in his eyes turned the icy blue to a warm winter sky, the kind of blustery Chicago morning Lilí complained about but Julia actually enjoyed.

“I’ve heard rave reviews about your thoughts for the soiree,” Ben said, a teasing note in his deep voice.

If he’d been clean shaven, she might have seen the sexy dimple in his left cheek. The one female fans, and some male ones, too, sighed over. With the light scruff he now sported, the dimple was hidden from her view, though she found herself checking for it. Not that she was attracted by his sexy, rolled-out-of-bed appeal.

“I’m looking forward to working with you,” Ben added.

“Likewise,” Julia answered.

She took a deep breath, willing the picaflores flapping their little hummingbird wings in her belly to calm. Unfortunately, her deep breath brought her senses in close and personal contact with the hint of his woodsy cologne, its spicy undertones heightening her awareness of him.

All of a sudden she found herself needing to repeat the reminder she had shared with Carol earlier. This time, for her own good.

Ben Thomas was just like every other guy. No need to go all boba over him. She didn’t do boy crazy. Ever.

It was simply a matter of remembering: Pants. One leg at a time.

* * *

Ben tried hard to keep his focus on the details Laura Taylor, Jeff Louis, and the rest of the committee discussed throughout the meeting. Hell, he was a master at focusing. Ask any of his old teammates. Nothing got him out of the zone unless he wanted it to.

Problem was, right now his zone seemed to be honed in on one Julia Fernandez. It had been since he’d walked into the conference room barely thirty minutes ago.

Not only because her petite frame, delicate features, and wavy, long, black hair had made him take a second look, then a third, followed by a . . . hell he’d lost count.

While he hadn’t been able to stop glancing at her, though, she never seemed to have trouble not looking his way. Barely making eye contact. A hair shy of aloof.

He wasn’t used to women not being interested in him.

As soon as the thought flashed through his mind, he pulled up short.

It wasn’t that he expected to be the center of attention. In fact, most of the time he worked hard to go incognito and avoid recognition.

With Julia, though, something made him want her to take notice.

Something more than her attractiveness.

It was the confidence she exuded as she brought the committee up to date on several tasks for the event.

It was the way she praised others, acknowledging their efforts.

It was the slight lilt to her words. The touch of her Spanish accent that reminded him of home and growing up surrounded by the Cuban influence in Miami.

His first real crush had been his buddy Octavio’s older sister, Amada. A short-lived crush as she’d become more like a sister since Octavio’s place had become Ben’s second home, his teammate’s family semi-adopting him once the two boys started playing select ball together and it became apparent that Ben’s parents weren’t around much.

Two professors, Ben’s mom and dad had always been elbow-deep in their research. Oh, they’d been supportive, more or less encouraging him to pursue his goals. They simply hadn’t truly connected with him in sharing his love for the sport.

His “family” dinner experiences had taken place around the Ramos’s table. That’s where his affinity for Latin food, Cuban food in particular, had been born.

Listening to Julia talk about her plans for the holiday fund-raiser, all with a Latino flair, heightened his melancholy for the loss of family and sense of home he’d been dealing with since his forced retirement from playing ball.

“Since the funds raised