She had her digital notebook in hand, her hair pulled back in its customary ponytail, and she was wearing that hideous uniform everyone from the sports medicine team wore. No makeup, very plain, except she wasn’t plain. How had he not noticed her before? Caught up in his own misery, probably, because Alicia was pretty. There was something about her that made him see through the ugly uniform and lack of makeup.

Maybe it was the promise she’d made to help him pitch again. But it was more than that, because he also liked the sparkle in her eyes—it reminded him of the sky in the summer. And her mouth—he really liked her mouth, especially when she smiled. He wanted to see her smile more. He’d bet she was gorgeous when she smiled. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty, and not all made-up and dressed like she wanted to be taken out to lunch or shopping like the women he usually hung out with.

She came to meet him when he pushed through the door.

“Good morning. Are you ready for this?” she asked.

“I’m stiff, I’m sore, and my shoulder hates this weather.”

She nodded. “Don’t worry. We’ll put some heat on it to warm you up first, then we’ll get to work.”

He followed her to one of the private rooms.

“Take off your jacket and get comfortable on the table. I’ll go get a heating pad. If you brought some music with you, you can get that started.”

He had brought his MP3 player, and it was obvious Alicia wasn’t going to have a conversation with him. Usually, he and the guys would shoot the shit for about an hour then do some therapy. This was going to be different.

He tucked in his earbuds and turned on some music. Alicia came back and put hot pads on his shoulder, then turned down the lights and left the room without a word.

Fine. Whatever. He didn’t need her to be his best friend. The heat felt good, so he settled in, closed his eyes, and immersed himself in the music.

The ten minutes passed too fast. He could have gone to sleep, but she pulled the pads off, leaving him chilled. He grabbed his jacket, but she stopped him.

“You won’t need that right now. Come with me.”

She took him into the workout room and sat him down on the arm bike.

“This will get you warmed up. I’ll be back shortly.”

She set the time for five minutes and walked away.

Again.

Wasn’t this fun? At least the TV was on, set to sports news. He pedaled away and caught up on sports, but he also watched Alicia out of the corner of his eye. She went into the office, chatted with Phil and Max. They looked over whatever she had in her electronic notebook. There was a lot of nodding going on. Talking about him, no doubt.

When his bell rang, she was right there next to him.

“Ready?” she asked as he climbed off the bike.

“I’ve been ready.”

“Good. Come over here.”

She led him to the doorway.

“Reach your arms to the top of the beam,” she said.

He turned to her. “What?”

“Lift your arms up, straight overhead. Touch the overhead.”

He did. His left arm went up just fine, but he winced when he straightened the right. And he wasn’t straightening it as easily as the left arm.

“It’s just a stretch, nothing too strenuous. Keep it up there and try to straighten your right arm, keeping your arm as close to your ear as you can.”

She stood behind him, silently watching.

“See anything?”

“Yes. Now, drop your arms, shake them out for a few seconds, and do it again.”

He gave her a look over his shoulder. “This doesn’t seem to accomplish anything.”

“That’s why you’re the pitcher and I’m the therapist. Do it again, and hold for a count of ten each time.”

He shrugged but reached for the top of the doorway again.

She had him do it five more times. By the last time, it felt like his form was much better. She came up behind him and grasped his shoulders, pushing against the muscles and tendons.

“Right side feels tight,” he said.

“Of course it feels tight. You don’t move enough. You don’t stretch enough. The more you keep your arm immobile, the more scar tissue forms. That’s half your problem.”

He turned to face her. “And the other half is?”

She tapped the side of her head. “You thinking that your career is over. And because of it, you don’t do your home exercises like you should. And because you don’t do your home exercises like you should, your shoulder isn’t healing. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that.”

Garrett didn’t like how easily Alicia had him pegged. Then again, wasn’t that the reason he’d chosen her in the first place? She’d seen right through him, had told him what he needed. And what he needed was someone to push him.

He needed to get back on the mound. He was twenty-nine years old and still had a lot of years left to pitch. He wasn’t going to let this injury derail his career. Being out of commission this long had f**ked with his head, and he didn’t know how to change that.

The one thing he’d always had was control—over his pitches, over his career, and over his life. The past year he’d lost all of it, and he wanted it back. All the team doctors and athletic directors and therapists hadn’t helped him get it back.

The therapists he had befriended had done nothing but enable him, allowing him to make excuses and not get the strength in his arm back.

Was that what he wanted?

Maybe Alicia was the key. She seemed confident in her ability to help him, so he had to trust in her. He was running out of options.

He looked down at her, wondering how much he could challenge her. “You’re kind of short.”

She snorted. “Oh, but I’m mighty. Just you wait and see.”

He liked that she didn’t insult easy. “You must have brothers.”

“One. And cousins. You don’t scare me.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested.

“Aren’t you going to work out my shoulder?”

“In good time.”

“You know it’s winter out there.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Yes, I do. Afraid of a little weather?”

“No.” He hated cold weather. If he’d wanted to be in cold weather, he’d have played football.

“Good. Put your coat on.”

“Is this part of my therapy?”

She grabbed her coat. “No. I love freezing my ass off and thought you might want to join me.”

“You’re kind of a smart-ass,” he said as he slid into his heavy winter jacket then his beanie.

“Yeah, I’ve never heard that one before.” She slipped her hat over her head. “Everything I do with you is part of your therapy. Let’s go.”

They walked outside the facility, and Garrett slunk farther into his jacket. The darkness of the morning hadn’t given way to any sunshine, and the wind had picked up even more, so it felt colder. They walked up the stairs and down the street.

Alicia was practically bouncing as she lifted her face to the sky. She turned to him. “It’s supposed to snow today.”

“Yeah, like a foot of it or something.”

“I know. It’s exciting.”

He caught the grin on her face, and just as he had imagined, it transformed her from pretty to beautiful. Her cheeks rounded, and her lips curved into something so sexy it stole his breath. He tried not to notice, but it was hard not to. “You like snow.”

“I love it. I love all weather, actually. There’s nothing like a big snowstorm while you’re cuddled inside the house in your pajamas with a steaming cup of hot chocolate and a great romance novel.”

And now he’d have to get that mental picture out of his head. He wondered what her hair would look like out of that ponytail, waves of dark curls spilling over her shoulders. Though the fantasy would be better if she was reclining on the sofa na**d.

He decided this whole therapy thing would go a lot better if he didn’t find her sexy. Bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, her face slathered in some kind of green facial cream, and maybe her hair in curlers.

“Reach up and grab that thin limb on the tree,” she said as they walked.

He stopped and pulled his head out of the fantasy. “Huh?”

“That limb on the tree ahead. Keep walking, but just grab the limb as we walk by.”

“And do what with it?”

“Here. I’ll show you the first time.” She strolled ahead of him then slowed down as she stepped under a tree with low-hanging limbs. She reached up with her right arm and grabbed one of the thinner limbs, held on as she walked past.

Ah. He got it. “You want me to stretch the back of my shoulder by grabbing on to tree limbs.”

“Yes, but don’t jerk it. Do it gently. Slow your pace as we walk under the trees. Just pause, hang on to the limb, and really feel the stretch.”

“Got it.” And he did the next time, and the next; she’d chosen a heavily tree-lined street.

“This is a lot less boring than the pulleys.”

“Even if you are freezing your ass off?” she asked with a wry smile.

“Even if.”

“It’s always nice to get out of the facility. I like being outdoors, breathing in fresh air. Plus, you needed a change in your therapy. And you need to get out of your head. It’s very doom and gloom in there.”

“So you think me yanking on tree limbs is going to fool my body—and my mental state—into thinking this really isn’t therapy?”

She laughed. “No. I know you’re not stupid. You’ll still know this is therapy. It’s just using different mechanics.”

By the time they’d walked a mile, he could definitely feel it in his shoulder. Plus, she made him do it leaning to the side and from the front. They walked into the facility, and he wasn’t cold anymore. He peeled off his hat and his jacket, and went to the break room for a bottle of water.

Alicia met him at the door. “Ready for some serious work now?”

He paused mid-drink. “I thought we were done.”

“That was just a warm-up. Now that your muscles and tendons are toasty, we’re really going to dig in.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’m a little sore.”

She marched over to him and pushed on his back. “Being a wuss isn’t allowed. Head over to the pulleys.”

“I thought jerking on the tree limbs was in lieu of the pulleys.”

She adjusted the weights for him. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? But no. Three sets of ten.”

He looked down at the weights, which were set heavier than they’d been before. Then he looked up at Alicia. “This isn’t going to wreck my shoulder?”

“Nope. Start lifting. I’ll be here watching your progress.”

He went through the routine, waiting for some sharp, knifelike pain to signal that he was right, that the weights were too heavy.

The pain didn’t come. It hurt, but therapy always did.

Though, it was a lot less painful so far because he had Alicia to push him around. Maybe this could work.

* * *

ADMITTEDLY, ALICIA WAS NERVOUS. NOT JUST A LITTLE nervous, but a whole bundle of jammed-up tension that had settled right between her shoulder blades as she worked through this first session with Garrett.

There was a mountain of pressure on her to do this right, and a lot riding on this—Garrett’s career. If she didn’t get his shoulder working again, and not just working minimally, but fully enough that he could pitch and pitch well, then she’d likely be out of a job. Sports medicine specialists were hired—especially by a baseball team—because they were the best. Throughout her time in school and at the orthopedic clinic she’d worked for prior to being hired by the Rivers, she’d prided herself on being damn good at sports medicine. She’d studied anatomy and physiology before she’d ever stepped foot in a college classroom, had worked on her brother’s and cousins’ aches and pains, and had watched athletes’ mechanics and studied their injuries.

This is what she’d spent her life training for. Now was her chance to prove herself.

She put Garrett on the leg press to give his shoulder a break and also to balance his workout. She took a moment to ogle his muscles as he lay back and pushed a sizeable amount of weight. Since he’d warmed up, he’d shed his sweats and was down to his shorts, his thighs flexing as he pushed up on the press.

If she wasn’t an employee of the team, she’d be all over him like she was sure many women were. But fantasizing about the hot pitcher wasn’t going to happen, no matter how amazing his body was or how sexy his eyes were when he glanced up at her.

He was her patient, and he was going to remain firmly rooted in that spot.

He sat up after locking the weights into place.

“So, how experienced are you at this, Alicia?”

“I have plenty of therapeutic experience.”

He dropped his chin then lifted his eyes. “Right. Tons, I’ll bet.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d been questioned by one of the athletes about her background. “I have a master’s degree in sports medicine. I both interned and worked for some of the best orthopedic surgeons out there before I was hired by the Rivers. I’ve been working in this field for seven years. But if you have any doubts about working with me, you can feel free to—”

He held up his hands. “Touchy subject, obviously.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me. If you’ve changed your mind, just let me know, and I’ll turn you over to Max again.”