Holiday Home Run - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,23

game highlights and I feel bad that I wasn’t there to cheer them on. But the thing is, I doubt they’ve ever wondered what I might want or need for them to cheer for me about. Coming here to Chicago, it’s a risk. It’s a big leap of faith in myself. For myself.”

“I know. You’ve shared that with me,” Ben said, wanting her to see that he understood her drive. Hell, he respected it. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. This fund-raiser will be the best one yet. And you’ll be turning down offers for you to plan other events around the city.”

Julia’s lips curved in a sad smile, a pained expression creasing her beautiful face.

“Gracias,” she murmured. “You’re confirming my ‘great guy’ opinion.”

Ben scowled.

“The thing is,” she said, “I’ve always stayed away from getting involved with a ballplayer . . . at first because my brothers would have beaten up anyone who even looked my way. Later, as I grew older, because I saw girlfriends hurt by guys who moved up the ranks. Wait, I know what you’re going to say—”

She held up a hand to stall the argument he was primed to give. There was nothing he could do about how other men had treated her friends. He could only be responsible for his own actions.

“But mostly,” Julia went on, “because I know how consuming the game can be. Honestly, I don’t know if I want that to be a part of my life anymore. As much as I love the game, too.”

Regret tightened Ben’s chest. God, he’d do anything to get back in the game, and here she was shrugging off any attachment to it.

His only saving grace was the love she readily admitted to having for the sport. It was something the two of them shared.

That affinity, plus the commitment to her loved ones, her dedication to the kids at the youth center, and her determination to succeed at her job were a large part of what attracted him to her.

He shared those same traits, giving them more in common than simply baseball. Or the mutual attraction he felt sparking between them.

Maybe he wasn’t sure where things were headed with her, but he sure as hell wanted to find out.

As far as he was concerned, the only reality that mattered right now was one involving her and him. Enjoying themselves and getting to know each other better.

If she held any reservations about being with him, he aimed to dispel them, starting tonight.

Pushing himself to a wobbly stand in his skates, Ben flashed her his most convincing grin. “How about if we agree to concentrate on having some fun. No expectations. Just two people who enjoy hanging out.”

Julia gazed up at him intently, as if gauging his veracity. Slowly the stressed expression on her face faded, replaced by a dawning ease.

“I’d like that,” she answered.

A smile tugged up the corners of her full lips, loosening the knot of disappointment her earlier admission had gnarled in his chest.

“Good. You ready to wow me with your skating skills?” he asked, because as far as he was concerned, pretty much everything else about her wowed him already.

Chapter Eight

“Are we all ready?”

Ben’s simple question coming from behind her startled Julia, heightening her nervous jitters. She tore her thumb from her gnawing teeth before she ruined another manicure. Her second this week thanks to the terrible nail-biting habit she couldn’t kick in times of high stress.

And tonight was definitely a high stress moment.

Months of committee meetings, phone calls, and networking with local vendors and the event-planning company had coalesced into this moment: bringing her vision for the fund-raiser to life.

“It looks amazing,” Ben said, awe tingeing his deep voice.

Pride swelled in Julia’s chest.

“You’ve done an incredible job,” he added.

“Everyone has. Tonight’s a huge group effort.”

Ben nudged her shoulder with his as he joined her at the gilded balcony railing overlooking the expansive Wintrust Grand Banking Hall. The scent of his earthy aftershave tinted her next breath, an intoxicating aphrodisiac.

Together they took in the view below where workers bustled about, finalizing last minute preparations to the open-aired space.

The well-known building’s neoclassical and Gothic Revival architecture, often photographed and admired in magazines and Web sites, had been transformed into an island holiday celebration. Round tables with seats for eight were elegantly dressed in deep red, green, and gold linens. Several towering Christmas trees flanked the wide columns on either side of the space, each tree decorated with Puerto Rican-themed ornaments. Glittering balls with