“It was gross,” Rachel sneered. “Like, God. Get a fucking room.”

“Everyone else was kissing,” Mary said.

“Yeah, but it’s them,” Rachel said. “I bet they were both virgins when they met.”

“That is so mean,” Mia said, laughing.

“Can you imagine being married to him?” Rachel asked.

Thea’s hand curled into a fist against her stomach.

“Have you ever tried to have a conversation with him? I bet he even stutters in bed.”

Rage. Hot and red. It flushed Thea’s skin and dimmed her eyesight. A vision flashed through her mind of launching herself at Rachel, knocking her to the ground, and pummeling her in the face. Instead, she stomped around the corner and revealed herself. “How dare you!”

The three women whipped their heads around and had the decency to at least momentarily look guilty for being caught.

Thea surged forward. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Mary blanched and stepped forward. “Thea, we didn’t— We weren’t talking about you guys.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “I don’t think she’s going to buy that.”

Fury rolled through her like a thunderstorm. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But do not ever disrespect my husband. Gavin has more dignity, integrity, and guts than every man on this team combined, and more than the three of you could ever dream of.”

Mary swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’m . . . I’m going to go back to the party.” She raced past Thea with cheeks blazing.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Look, if you expect me to apologize, you’re going to be waiting a long time.”

“I don’t expect it, and frankly I don’t care. But if I ever hear you disparage my husband again—”

“You’ll what?” Rachel stood, taking advantage of every inch of her tall, lithe form. “You’ll be mad? You’ll go tell your husband? This isn’t high school, sweetie.”

Thea barked out a laugh. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Rachel wobbled drunkenly on her heels again. “How much have you had to drink, Rachel?”

“None of your fucking business.”

As she said it, though, she wobbled again and nearly wiped out. Thea gripped Rachel’s arm and steadied her. Rachel yanked her arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

Thea wouldn’t be surprised if she pretended to spray herself to kill the cooties.

Mia grabbed Rachel’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

Rachel yanked away. “No. Why shouldn’t she know the truth?”

Mia’s eyes darted sideways to a spot behind Thea. “Rachel, come on.”

“Know the truth about what?” Thea snapped. “That you blame me for your own problems?”

Rachel lurched forward. “Jake and I would be fine if we’d made it to the World Series! And the only reason we didn’t is because your husband choked in that last game!”

“Okay, what you’re doing right now is called projection, and it’s sad.”

“I had plans!” she shrieked. “You think I want to live in this hillbilly city forever? Your husband stole the ring right off Jake’s finger and all the endorsement deals that should have come with it!”

Thea sputtered like a rusty tractor engine after a long winter in the barn. But when she finally got into gear, her rage propelled her forward with a kick. “My husband? Let’s talk about your husband and that two-run homer he allowed in the third inning! Or how about that double that gave the Cubs the lead?”

Rachel reared back, looking surprised. “Well if your husband had done anything at the plate in game seven—”

“There wouldn’t even have been a game seven if not for what my husband did in game six!”

It was exactly the opening Rachel had been waiting for. Her lips pursed, and one perfect eyebrow arched in derision. “And if you were any kind of baseball wife, you would’ve been at game seven.”

“What the hell is going on?” The booming voice of her husband brought Thea around in a whirl. Gavin stood a few feet away, face stormy.

Rachel snorted out a laugh. “Aw, here he is. The big strong man to the rescue.”

Except the big, strong man wasn’t alone. Rachel’s husband, or maybe soon-to-be ex-husband, rounded the corner with what appeared to be half the team behind him. That same flash of empathy rose again, and Thea considered for a moment just walking away.

But that’s what she used to do.

She was done walking away from the fight.

Thea stepped closer to Rachel, so close the woman had to take a wavering step back. “You want to know what kind of baseball wife I am? I’m the kind of baseball wife who had to give birth alone because her husband was gone. I’m the kind of baseball wife who had to spend twenty-four hours in the emergency room with twins by herself because they had a stomach flu during the season. I’m the kind of baseball wife who still isn’t sure the difference between a no-hitter and a perfect game, and you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because I didn’t marry baseball. I married Gavin, a man with more integrity than you could ever dream of having.”

Rachel actually looked a bit afraid now, and she took another retreating step on her own, her back hitting the corridor wall. Thea stepped forward one more time. “And I’m the kind of baseball wife who put her own goddamn dreams on hold for three years so I could support my husband’s career and try to fit in with the likes of you, but that is a mistake I am finally fixing. And the only reason you actually hate me is because you don’t have the guts to do the same. You’d rather lash out, blame other people. But no one broke up you and Jake but you.”

She spun on her heel but then stopped and came back for one last comment. “And for your information, yes, Gavin stutters in bed. And it’s fucking beautiful.”

And then, without even looking at Gavin or the rest of the team, Thea lifted her head and stalked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Gavin caught up with Thea at the elevator. She’d retrieved her scarf and her purse.

“Thea—”

She held up a hand. “Don’t. She had it coming.”

The elevator arrived, and he followed her in. She was still breathing hard from the argument, and her words reverberated in the charged air between them. Yes, Gavin stutters in bed. And it’s fucking beautiful.

He should be humiliated. Furious. But he wasn’t. He was hard as a fucking rock.

Thea met his eyes and he felt a shock wave all the way to his groin. She was as turned on as he was. They peeled away from their corners at the same time and collided like two mating animals on a crash course with nature’s primal calling. Gavin stumbled, and together they fell against the wall.

“You’re not faking it tonight,” he growled into her mouth. “You hear me? You’re not faking it ever again.”

He’d never driven so fast through the city. The hotel was only a mile away, but it felt like the far side of the Earth. He screeched to a stop at the entrance and tossed the keys to the valet. The kid could keep the car for all he cared.

Gavin grabbed their bags from the back seat. Thea waited for him on the sidewalk, eyes dark and hooded with desire.

His wife has having an orgasm tonight if it killed him.

Checking in took no more than five minutes, but it felt like an hour. In the elevator, they collided again with hands and lips, stumbling out when the doors opened on the top floor. He’d booked a suite because he could, and because tonight was special.

His hand shook as he shoved the key card into the slot.

It beeped red.

Gavin growled and tried again. Finally, the light turned green. He shoved open the door, threw their bags inside, and turned around to reach for his wife.

They hit the wall again, grinding into each other. “Turn around,” he ordered.

His fingers shook again as he lowered the zipper to her black dress. If he weren’t so desperate, he’d take his time. Undress her slowly and kiss every inch of exposed skin, but that would have to wait for another time.

The dress pooled at her feet, and she kicked it aside as she turned around. She stood before him in nothing but stiletto heels and a thong. Gavin made a noise that was barely human as he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her close. She kissed him with an unguarded passion that had been missing for so long. She had been missing for so long. This feisty woman he’d fallen in love with. And God, he’d missed her.

Between their bodies, Gavin slid his hand down her stomach, and she arched with a moan. When he reached her wet curls and parted her with his finger, she cried out and lifted her hips into his touch. God, if he could make her come just like this, standing here as she rode his hand.

“Gavin,” she said, gripping his head. “Make love to me.”

Gavin palmed her ass and hoisted her in his arms. Her legs went around his waist, the heels digging into his ass. She was so keeping those on.

He stumbled toward the bed and lowered her to the mattress. His hands whipped off his shirt and fumbled with the zipper of his pants, which were already about to burst. Thea shimmied out of her thong, leaving her bare but for those shoes.

Gavin groaned and fell to his knees at the edge of the bed. Time to put the book lessons to good use.

“Gavin, what are you doing” Thea whispered. “I want you.”

“Let me love you like this first,” he said, thanking God that Lord Sex Machine knew the right things to say.

Gavin slid his hands under her ass and leaned forward until his lips touched the seam of her desire. “Oh my God,” Thea panted, her fingers fisting the comforter.

Gavin blew on her heated skin and was rewarded with another gasp, another arch of her back. When he parted her with his tongue, her guttural groan nearly made him explode right there.

He licked until she squirmed, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue and sucking on her swollen nub. Her moans made him wild, but he pulled back to let her breathe. Something he learned from Lord Happy Tongue. Let her adjust to the sensations before going deeper. Use words, not just body.