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

Carneval.”
    “Well, stay away from Paige. She’s having a hard time. Just got divorced.”
    “Paige . . .” He mused over the name. “Like Satchel Paige?”
    Trevor blanked for a moment, since Paige had reached them and her light scent had gone to his head. Her pretty lips were upturned in a wry, sexy curve.
    “Yes, I’m named after Satchel Paige,” she answered. “My father’s favorite player.”
    Trevor cocked his head. “He always says Don Mattingly was his favorite.”
    Laughter flashed in her eyes. “Don Mattingly was his favorite hitter. Satchel was his favorite pitcher.”
    Shizuko said, “So your name is . . .”
    “Paige Mattingly Austin Taylor.”
    “Why Austin?” Shizuko leaned in to hear her answer. A little too close, in Trevor’s opinion.
    “It’s where Crush pitched his perfect game, asshole,” he explained, irritated.
    Paige’s gaze swept to meet his, and he caught surprise and a satisfying amount of respect.
    “Exactly. Whenever I complain, he tells me to be glad he didn’t pitch his perfect game in Pittsburgh. Hi, Trevor. And you must be Shizuko.”
    The right fielder lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. Murder filled Trevor’s heart. “Drop it,” he muttered so fiercely that Shizuko instantly obeyed. Paige shot an annoyed glance at Trevor. She’d added smoky eyeliner or something. Her eyes sparkled and glowed, sexy as hell, and her hair flowed loose over her shoulders. A long purple feather earring dangled from one ear. She shouldn’t be in this bar, with that slinky top baring her skin and that name that would make any baseball fan salivate.
    “Is Dwight Conner here too?” she asked.
    “Sure. Out there somewhere.” He beckoned to the dance floor, where Sonny Barnes, the first baseman, was now doing the “worm” across the entire floor.
    “Conner,” Trevor called into the mob on the dance floor. “Outfield meeting at the bar.”
    It took a few minutes, but finally Dwight fought his way out of the laughing mob. “What’s up?” He spotted Paige and plastered on his “lady boner” grin, as he called it. “Paige Taylor . . . I heard Crush’s cute daughter was in town, but I didn’t believe it until I saw for myself.”
    She shook his hand, then pulled out her iPhone. “I was hoping I would find you all here. There’s something the Catfish management would like to discuss with you. Would you mind if I took a quick photo of the three of you? Sort of a selfie-style, casual shot?”
    Trevor snorted. “Don’t trust her, guys. Next thing you know you’ll be duct-taping your sideview mirror back on your car.”
    She made a face at him. “I told you I’d take care ofthat. This is perfectly harmless, it’ll just be easier to explain things this way.”
    “Why so mysterious?” He leaned close to her ear, delivering his question through the fragrant waves of her hair. She shivered, almost imperceptibly.
    “ You’re calling me mysterious? This is perfectly innocent. Just pretend I’m a groupie asking for your autograph. If you want to take your shirt off, be my guest.” Her saucy smile was nearly too much for him. He wanted to scoop her into his lap and lose himself in her adorableness.
    Maybe that vodka had been a bad idea.
    As the three outfielders posed together, arms around each other’s shoulders, a wide smile spread across Paige’s face. “There’s a lot of testosterone in this picture. And some really great DNA. I think Marcia might be on to something after all.”
    She finished snapping pictures and stuck her phone back in the little leather backpack that hung from one shoulder.
    “Don’t mean to be rude to the owner’s daughter, but what are you talking about?” Dwight asked.
    “Are you guys up for saving the Catfish?”
    Trevor exchanged confused looks with Dwight and Shizuko. “Again, what are you talking about?”
    “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, marketing department. I’ll bring donuts.” Throwing up one hand, she added, “But