Holiday Home Run - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,6
baseball?” he asked.
Dios mío, forget worrying about his undoubtedly touchy subject. She wanted to talk about her family and personal life even less than his shortened career.
On the drive over, sitting snugly warm in Ben’s classy Range Rover, the scent of leather from the plush seats mixing with his woodsy cologne, the sight of his strong hands gripping the steering wheel, and his camera-ready grin flashing her way, she’d caught herself relaxing with him. Enjoying his easy conversation as they’d made idle chatter about living in Chicago.
Then he’d asked what she liked to do in her free time.
A warning bell had gone off in her head and she’d reminded herself to stick to nonpersonal topics, preferably only the soiree.
This was a business dinner. Nothing more.
Yet, now she’d gone and opened the door leading him to poke around her personal life.
“¿Tienes hermanos en beisbol?” Ben repeated his question about her brothers in Spanish when she hadn’t responded.
“Yeah,” she answered.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Older? Younger?”
“One older.”
Ben responded with a bark of laughter.
An older gentleman exiting a farmacia on the corner looked their way, his dark eyes widening with recognition when he saw Ben. Thankfully he only waved and welcomed them to his neighborhood rather than stopping them for an autograph.
Ben returned the man’s greeting in Spanish. When he glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth pulled up in that playful smile that inevitably made her stomach flip-flop.
“What’s so funny?” She tilted her head in question, eyeing him with uncertainty as she slowed her steps.
Once again Ben followed her lead, coming to a stop.
A woman pushing a baby stroller edged around them, her little one bundled up against the cold. Ben murmured “buenas noches” and received a mutual “good evening” in response.
Once the woman was several feet away, Ben turned his attention back to Julia.
The intensity of his clear blue eyes, focused entirely on her, had the world around them fading to nothing more than a blur. As if only the two of them existed.
“Back at the association’s office,” Ben answered, “when you talked about your ideas and the kids you’ve been working with, excitement dripped from your words. The way you described the decorations, adding the Three Kings to the mix out of respect for your Latino culture, I doubt anyone had trouble visualizing it all.”
“And?” she asked when he trailed off.
“And now that I’m trying to get to know you, I can’t seem to get more than a one- or two-word answer. How come?”
Had Ben’s tone been pushy, or his body language hinted at any amount of wounded ego petulance, she would have easily given him a firm answer meant to ensure he understood she wasn’t interested. She’d done it before with other guys who felt compelled to assert their misguided machismo.
But the honest inquiry in Ben’s slightly furrowed brow and the sincerity evident on his handsome face indicated his genuine interest in her answer.
Maybe the good guy persona was more than a facade for the media and endorsements. Laura Taylor spoke very highly of him, and Julia valued the woman’s opinion.
Suddenly the wind whipped down the street, sending stray leaves and a few empty cans rattling over the cement sidewalk. Julia grabbed the edges of the jacket Ben had draped around her, shivering with cold.
He immediately stepped closer, blocking her from the wind and gently grasping her upper arms. “Why don’t we table the inquiry until we’re seated inside? Gloria’s place is on the next block. I’m thinking your Island blood isn’t used to the Chicago weather yet.”
Once again, his chivalrous nature thawed the chill she had been intent on keeping between them.
“Wait,” she said, covering one of his hands with hers. “I don’t . . . I don’t mean to be rude.”
“You haven’t been. I mean, usually I get people who—”
“Fall over themselves, giddy with awe at spending time with an MLB All-Star, now the network’s new voice, like Carol did?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them, goaded by the remnants of her anger over a local ballplayer from her hometown who had dated one of Julia’s closest friends for years, only to toss her aside when he moved up to the big leagues. Apparently the groupies in every city held more appeal than the commitment he’d made before leaving the Island.
“Carol?” Confusion flit across Ben’s face. It cleared moments before he said, “Oh, the intern.”
Julia nodded, wondering how he’d react to her mini rant. That quick temper her mami always warned her about had chosen an inopportune