Drive You Wild: A Love Between the Bases Novel by Jennifer Bernard

in the Via del Corso made her hackles rise.
    Enough. Hudson was history. Time to live in the here and now. Baseball pants and a hot summer day. Things could be worse.
    She texted her father. Up for some Cracker Jack and cotton candy?
    Is that code for Daddy time or are you starting to enjoy America’s pastime?
    Actually, I’m just hungry.
    We’ll hook you. Just wait.
    T hat night, the Catfish made one of their legendary appearances at the Kilby Roadhouse. An eager crowd swelled the club well past its fire-safe capacity. The bass line blasting from the sound system vibrated the sawdust-scattered floor. Bursts of laughter rose like bright balloons toward the raftered ceiling. Trevor watched the action from the safety of a bar stool, his elbow throbbing from his first game since the BB gun incident.
    Dwight Conner slid onto the stool next to him and squinted at the dance floor. “What the fuck is Bieberman doing out there?”
    Trevor glanced over his shoulder. The shortstop was twitching his way across the dance floor at the head of a chain of girls. Every once in a while he kicked up a leg like a dog taking a leak.
    “Having a lot more fun than we are.” Trevor snorted. “You should get to it, man. Show ’em how it’s done.”
    “What are you saying, I’m black so I can dance?”
    Trevor blinked at him. “You’re black? Dude, you’re supposed to be my friend. You gotta tell me these things. You can’t be keeping secrets like that.”
    They both laughed. Somehow, mysteriously, he and Dwight had achieved the kind of friendship in which they could say any old shit and neither one minded. “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little off.”
    Trevor took a swallow of his Lone Star by way of answer. The call from Nina had really rattled him. No matter how well he got along with Dwight, he couldn’t talk about that.
    “Playing it strong and silent,” Dwight said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good call. I’m going in. If you need any help with the hottie on your left, just give me a sign.”
    Trevor glanced to the side. A gorgeous brunette was sliding him a flirtatious look, elbows propped behind her on the bar, legs crossed, one black stiletto dangling from her toe. She smiled as he caught her eye, and that smile told him everything he needed to know. If he wanted to forget his troubles by burying his cock in a warm, willing body, done and done.
    He gave her an apologetic smile and turned back to his beer. Not interested. Her eyes weren’t sapphire blue, and she probably didn’t say things like “pact of denial.” She wasn’t the adorable and off-limits Paige Taylor. Apparently he wasn’t interested in any girl unless she had a fluffy one-eyed cat and an attitude.
    He finished his beer and pushed away from the bar. The smart move right now would be to go home and think about how to distract Nina from her determination to come to Kilby. He signaled the bartender, Todd, for his tab.
    Instead, Todd brought him a shot of Grey Goose. “Courtesy of Dean Wade with best wishes for speedy healing.”
    Across the bar, a towering man in a snap-up shirt and cowboy hat gave him a salute. He had the jawline of an ox and looked just as stubborn. Trevor had hearda lot about the Wade family, all bad. He knew Crush was feuding with them.
    Just to prove Crush didn’t own him, despite being the team owner, he nodded back to Dean Wade and downed the vodka. The man looked pleased.
    The vodka settled into his system, making things warm and blurry. He swiveled around to scan the dance floor, and blinked twice. Was that Paige Taylor, in a slinky black top and purple leggings clinging to those long, long legs?
    “Who is that?” The soft, awed voice of Shizuko Ruiz interrupted his lustful thoughts. The right fielder leaned on the bar next to him, watching Paige walk their way.
    “ That is foul ball territory. Owner’s daughter.”
    “Crush is a big fan of mine,” Shizuko said smugly. “He wants to party with me in Rio for