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SWEET SPOT
OUT OF LEFT FIELD SERIES
A FIRST LOOK AT SWEET SPOT
Kate James knows exactly what she wants: a mature, wise, ambitious and successful life partner. The hot guy with the gorgeous laugh at the bar is none of these things. Not with that t-shirt, unkempt hair, and scruff of a beard. And although his handsomness is unquestionable, he is definitely not the man for her.
Isaac Anson is out for one last drink before getting married…to his job. Years after walking away from baseball, his team has called him home. As the new manager of the Mantas he’ll only have room in his life for two things: baseball and his daughter. The last thing he needs is a distraction like the beautiful woman two tables down with the sexiest voice he’s ever heard.
The Mantas have a problem. New owner Eli Stirling has thrown everything into chaos. With the front office, players, and even the parking lot attendants ready to revolt, he hires the best corporate doctor around, bringing Kate and a freshly shaven Isaac together. All Kate’s excuses not to pursue Isaac are gone except for one pesky problem: he’s now her co-worker. And with the object of Isaac’s desires never more than a few feet away, it’s going to be torture resisting what he really wants.
PROLOGUE
10 years ago…
Willa
It’s hard being the only girl in a group of friends. First of all, you had to really like guys—which I did, so that part was fine. You also had to be perfectly fine with fast food, cheap beer, really bad comedies, and sentences that consist of a single word. Things like “bro” don’t just mean brother. Based on the inflection and hand gestures that accompany the partial word it can mean anything from “what the actual fuck” to “I love you, man.”
Luckily, I was well versed in all of these things. I liked fast food, cheap beer, and really bad comedies. I also enjoyed serving as interpreter for the women they dated.
One of my very best friends, Seth Butler, had his arm slung around a slender woman with perfect blonde hair, perfect makeup, and the absolute latest “it” look. We all sat around one of those high-top tables next to the bar. While most tables were covered with pitchers of beer and wings, ours had pitchers of soda and burgers. Nineteen-year-old baseball players didn’t drink alcohol and consumed massive amounts of red meat.
Seth’s free hand waved through the air. “And then the fucker threw a slurve. I swear I got a chubbie before it left his fingers. I knew that baby was gone.”
Lori blinked, sitting frozen beside Seth.
I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “He said the pitcher threw a pitch that Seth figured out immediately so he was able to adjust his swing and hit a home run.”
Her perfect mouth with the perfect lip liner made a soft O. She nodded slightly and pulled at her sweater even though it didn’t need adjusting. “Are they always like this?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically, leaving off the “hell yes” that I didn’t think she’d appreciate as much. I couldn’t tell if she wasn’t used to being around guys in general or ballplayers in particular. “So what’s your major?”
“Fashion design.” She fingered the sweater again.
Everett Anson, my other very best friend, started pounding the table with his fist while making a barking noise.
Lori’s eyes rounded and she jerked back.
All the guys started chanting “Isaac, Isaac, Isaac!” Then Everett jumped up out of the chair and threw his arms around a slightly older version of himself. His older brother Isaac was a former member of the same team Seth and Everett both played on now. The brothers had the same dark, shaggy hair and dark eyes. Both had straight, long noses and strong jaws. I knew that Everett was desperate to grow a beard, but it was still too patchy to be worth it. I suspected that one day, once he finally grew that first full beard, he’d never shave it again.
“One night only,” Seth’s voice boomed like an announcer, “the one and only, Isaac Anson!”
Even though Isaac was now a minor league player for the Mantas organization, I knew him almost as well as Everett and Seth. I wouldn’t call him one of my very best friends, but I did consider him a good friend, especially because he was Everett’s brother.
He took the open barstool on my right, across from Lori. “Hey, Willa. How’s it hanging?”
“Good. How are the minors treating you?”
“I play baseball for a living. I can’t complain.”
“And how’s Amanda?”
“Halfway through her graduate program already. No surprise there. She’s happy though.”
A traveling ballplayer and a future member of the Foreign Service would never make it as a couple, but the two of them continued to pretend it wasn’t true. Love and relationships made people crazy, which was why I was carefully avoiding getting tied to anyone. At least not yet. I was enjoying college and freedom too much to do something stupid like that.
French fries were thrown around, love disguised as insults were traded, a few arms were punched before Lori hopped up out of her chair and said she needed to “powder her nose.”
