Rookie of the Year: Jersey Girls Contemporary Romance Series, #4

By Charity Pineiro

Alicia Santos knows she shouldn’t be tempted by the team’s new rookie catcher. . .

But Joe Fernandez isn’t just your average baseball player.  He’s a potential rookie of the year with amazing skills on the field.  Smart, sexy and determined, he’s fought hard for everything in his life and Alicia appreciates that kind of focus.  But she’s older and wiser, or so she thinks, until Joe sets his sights on winning her over off the field. . .

Joe Fernandez has never backed down from a challenge . . .

Especially when it’s a woman like his team’s beautiful trainer.  He doesn’t mind that she’s older or stubbornly refusing to give into her attraction for him.  He’s a patient man and little by little he wears away her resistance.

Nights spent together are glorious and forbidden . . .

Alicia and Joe work hard to keep their personal and professional lives apart to avoid problems on the baseball field. When a career-ending injury threatens their newfound love, Alicia and Joe must find the strength to rebuild Joe’s body and restore balance to their lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caridad Pineiro
• Release date: Oct 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519947956

Book preview

Chapter One

He was perfection, Alicia Santos thought, admiring the ease with which he moved as he tossed the ball around with one of the other players on the field.  Tall and leanly muscled, Joe Fernandez was probably the most promising player on the team.  He was also probably the biggest problem she would have to face this season because the young rookie had intrigued her from the moment she had laid eyes on him.

What wasn't there to like? she considered as she watched him in action.

Handsome and built like a dream, she thought and sighed.  Sometimes she wished that he wasn’t also nice, hard-working, and respectful.  That would have made it easier to dampen her attraction.  After all, she was his trainer and close to a decade older.  It didn’t matter that he upped her heartbeat every time that she saw him, she had to keep it professional and impersonal.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on something other than the rookie who constantly invaded both her waking thoughts and too sexy dreams.

The clean scent of freshly mowed grass teased her nostrils.  Not long after, the sounds of the game became a soothing balm.  The hard stinging slap of the ball as it met the leather of the glove.  The crack of the bat as the ball connected with the sweet spot and sailed into the outfield or over the fence for a home run.

They were familiar, welcoming noises that stirred memories of her first time on a baseball field and drove away thoughts of the too-tempting rookie.  She recalled the bright, spring green of the grass and reddish dirt of the base paths.  The heat of the plastic batting helmet as she came up to home plate.  The sting on her hands as she got a hit.

Alicia had been in love with the game of baseball since the ripe, old age of five when she had started playing with her older brother and watched him in his local Little League games.  As she grew and her prowess improved, she had become a proficient utility player on a number of women’s softball teams.  Her Division 1 college team had even won the national championship one year.

For most women, such accomplishments didn't translate into big money contracts or fame on national television.  For Alicia it all boiled down to the fact that she played for the love of the game.  It was that love that had brought her here as a trainer for the New Jersey Maulers expansion team.

Daydreaming, Alicia? she heard from behind her and turned to meet the amused gaze of the team's manager, Gabriel Rojas.

She smiled at her friend and boss.  They had worked together at the minor league level for a number of years and it was thanks to his support that she had gotten this job.  Appreciating what it took to get here, she admitted. At thirty-two, she had finally arrived at the place for which she had been reaching since the day that five year old stepped out onto the diamond.

Gabriel nodded, joined her where she stood on the steps leading out of the dugout. Alicia could see the ghosts in his gaze as he stared out at the playing field.  Not so long ago, he had stood on steps similar to these as a player before a career-ending injury had brought a host of personal problems.

We did it and now that we're here, we're going to prove ourselves, he said softly, recognizing that her kindred spirit would understand.

Alicia peered out over the spring grass and base paths to where the team was warming up and taking batting practice.  They looked good in the preseason.  People are talking.

Gabriel nodded, got up on the top step and shouted out instructions to the player in the batting cage about keeping his shoulder down for better control and power.  Showed him by running through the motions himself.  Then he stood there examining the next pitch, his arms akimbo, and yelled out his approval when the player nailed the ball, driving it into the right field stands.

That's the way, Tito, he said and clapped his hands in approval.

The young man smiled and resumed his batting practice while Gabriel returned to the bottom of the steps.  He's really showing nice development, he murmured and Alicia agreed.

He's got potential, but more importantly, he's got the drive, she added.

Mmm, was all Gabriel said as he scanned the players and noted the two in the outfield, tossing the ball around to loosen their arms.  What about those two?  I hear Redburn has been giving you a little grief.

He just hates a woman in the locker room and makes no bones about letting me know it. Nothing I can't handle.

He gestured to the other outfielder.  Eric's still one of the best players I've ever seen.

Hall of Famer for sure, Alicia chimed in.

Think his body can last the season? Gabriel asked bluntly.

Alicia observed the thirty-eight year old outfielder as he warmed up with Redburn.  Eric Jones had been on only a handful of clubs, all of them division champs at one time or another.  None of them World Series winners and she knew that Eric was holding on despite injuries in the hopes of finally getting a championship ring.  As much as she admired his capabilities and his determination, she of all people knew the pain he played with regularly.  She wasn't sure he could last an entire season of active duty on the roster.

His shoulder's been giving him grief off and on through the preseason, you know that.  It's in my reports.  But given the right training, treatments and days off, he can still be productive.

Gabriel stared out at his friend.  He and Eric had played ball together many years ago.  Eric had been one of the few who had stuck by him during the bad times and she knew Gabriel appreciated that.  You let me know.  I don't think this club can do it this year, or maybe even next.  We're still too young a franchise, but—

This year, G-man, she jumped in, using her nickname for him that had caught on with several of the players.  We will be the fastest expansion team to ever win the series.

While I want it more than anything, especially for Eric—

Nita says you can do it, although she won't put that in print for anyone to see.

Gabriel guffawed, clearly thinking of the annoying sports reporter who kept on hounding him over every little thing he did.  Juanita de Castro is one royal pain in the arse.

And here she comes, G-man, Alicia stated and at that moment, she could tell that Gabriel wanted nothing more than to run back into the locker room and disappear before Nita could track him down.  Instead, the reporter surprised them both by only giving Gabriel a passing glance.  She headed to the seats behind third base close to where Joe waited to take his turn at batting practice.

As jealousy rose up when Joe smiled at the beautiful reporter, Alicia tried to curb her response.  Think baseball, she told herself, and smiled as she thought about a preseason game against New York when Joe had caught the game's premier base stealer as he tried to take second base.  After a quick conversation with the ump, the ball had been handed to her to hold until after the game.

Later, in the opposing team's locker room, Joe had first apologized for throwing the other man out and then asked him to sign the ball.  With the good humor the player was known for, the base stealer had signed and dated the ball and now it sat in a protective case in Joe's locker.

Joe’s locker where the handsome rookie would get changed before and after the game.

She cleared away those thoughts like she’d wipe away dirt from her ball glove, but her attention was pulled back to the rookie as he walked over to talk to Nita for a few minutes.

At a shout from the batting couch, Joe stepped away and became all business as his turn came up.  In the chill of the April afternoon, Joe quickly proved to Alicia and the fans watching that he was an amazing slugger as he took his turn in the cage.  Connecting with ball after ball, he drove a few into deep center and two out of the park.

Damn, but that boy is something, Alicia said under her breath as Joe finished up and returned to the seats where Nita still waited for him.  She had been joined by a slew of young girls who had arrived at the stadium early to watch the pre-game warm ups.

Joe smiled at the girls and they all giggled and started elbowing one another.  He flashed his most devastating grin at one of them as he signed the ball she handed to him and heat pooled in Alicia’s center.

Joe, you gonna flirt all day or get ready? Gabriel called out playfully a few seconds later and Joe looked over.  His gaze settled on her for a long moment before he addressed his boss.

G-man, I'm always ready, he said, turned back to the girls and offered his regrets.

He sauntered to the dugout, met them where they stood on the steps, and grinned at Alicia.  My wrist needs a little more support.  Do you think you can re-tape it?

Alicia nodded, inclined her head in the direction of the doorway leading back into the locker room areas.  Let’s go, Joe.

He held out his hand for her to go first, and she did, the feminine side of her hoping that he didn't think the pants and sweatshirt with the team emblem looked as bad on her as she thought they did.

Alicia wasn't one of those dainty little things like the girls he had been talking to up in the stands, or like Juanita de Castro, the reporter.  She had been an athlete and while curvy in all the right places, she was a solidly built size ten.  The team pants and shirts hadn't been chosen with a woman's body in mind and seemed to gap and pull in all the wrong places.

As she reached the doorway to the trainer's room, she looked behind her and if the heat of Joe's gaze was any indication, he certainly hadn't been thinking negative thoughts.

Please sit while I get the tape, she instructed and he did just that, nimbly scooting up onto her trainer’s table, his long, muscular legs in those almost indecently tight baseball pants swinging loosely back and forth while she gathered everything she needed to re-tape his wrists.

She approached Joe and found herself face to face with him.  Sitting on the table had leveled the nearly foot difference in their heights.  Alicia tried hard not to notice how handsome he was, but when he grinned, she felt almost sucker-punched by that devastating smile.  He seemed to realize it for his grin broadened and an impossibly daring twinkle entered his dark, brown eyes.

One of these days you'll have to admit it, Alicia.

She hated that the way he said her name caused her insides to twist with want.  Battling back that feeling, she said, There is nothing to admit.

Liar, he replied with a chuckle.

With an exasperated sigh, she took hold of his hand in order to fix the tape on his wrists.  Joe, we've been over this before.  I'm your trainer.  It would be unprofessional to become involved with you.  Plus, I am nearly ten years older than you are.

There are no team rules against us seeing each other outside of work and you’re only seven years older, Joe corrected and she ducked her head down as she examined his wrist and the tape job she had done earlier.  The tape was snug without being too tight.  And his hand . . .  Damn, but she was a sucker for a man's hands.

He had large, competent hands with the occasional small scars that testified to his profession.  The catcher's position was especially brutal on hands.  Alicia had seen many an old timer whose fingers were gnarly and arthritic from the constant beating they had taken behind the plate.

Today's catchers had the benefit of better equipment and in some cases, just better sense about what pitches to let go if they could.

Joe's hands were still young in catcher years.  Well-shaped and strong.  Looks fine.  The other hand, please, she said and took the hand he offered, again checking the tape on his wrist.  She remembered he had injured that hand earlier in the week and turned it over to examine the bruise along the meaty base of his thumb.  It was barely yellow and almost completely healed.

She glanced up at him, noting his amused gaze.  Tape is just fine.  Seems to me you just needed an excuse to get away from all those little groupies in the stands.

He grinned—that devilishly boyish one that had already graced the cover of more than one magazine—and shrugged.  Do you really think I want to waste my time on those little girls?

She knew all too well where this discussion was going again and decided to head it off.  Those 'little girls' were only two or three years younger than you, Joe.

Way too young.  I like my women mature, he replied jokingly as he slipped off the table and stood.  He was over a head taller with shoulders as broad as any she had ever seen.  The uniform hugged his body like a second skin, displaying an impressive amount of lean muscle.

Think of it this way.  Since I’m so much older than you, to me you're still a little boy, she shot back, hoping it would end the discussion that had become almost a running theme between them.

Joe glanced down at her, noting the way her determined little chin had picked up a notch as if in anticipation of her victory.  While his mother had raised him to be a gentleman, she had also raised him to not be a fool.  He would not pass up the opportunity to become involved with a woman like Alicia, especially when as much as she tried to hide it, he could see the interest in her eyes.

Leaning close to her, he softly whispered in her ear, My love, you of all people should know that I’m not a little boy.

As he turned his face, he detected the flush that sprang up over her cheeks.  She met his gaze out of the corner of her eye.  Joe, don't cross this line again. I've told you over and over—

That you have the hots for me, he said at the same time that she said, That I’m not interested.

The humor of the moment struck them both and they laughed.  He pulled away from her.  I’m sorry, Alicia.  I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but you are too hard to resist.

Try, Joe, was all she said as she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him with the memory of the enticing sway of her shapely hips as she left.

Alicia was all sexy female and Joe hadn’t been kidding when he said he liked mature woman.  He had no time for the flirtatious groupies hanging around before and after games.  He found them vapid, maybe because life had forced him to grow up too fast and he had no interest in women like that.

He much preferred Alicia with her no-nonsense and practical ways.  With the way her blue eyes darkened to a charcoal grey as she watched him and her hands, those capable gifted hands, moved on him while she tended to his injuries.

Sucking in a breath as he hardened uncomfortably against his jock, he controlled those wayward thoughts and told himself to be patient.

Alicia could deny it all she wanted, but Joe was certain that she had a thing for him.  In time he hoped to convince her that it only made sense to explore what they both were feeling.

Chapter Two

Ledger Record News, April 2

New Jersey Maulers Squeak by in Season Opener

By Juanita de Castro for Sports Live!

The Maulers started off the season the way they ended the pre-season—with a close one run win over their cross-river rivals, New York.  Starting pitcher Rich Macon held up well during the early innings, but then began to falter in the fifth.  Manager Rojas was forced to go to the bullpen and brought out Pat Smith, never the wisest of choices in a close game.  Smith, who posted a so-so record in the pre-season, did so with a whopping ERA due to control problems.  In the ninth, after proving himself with four decent innings, Smith put the go ahead run on first and threw a wild pitch that got past rookie phenom Joe Fernandez.  It was only thanks to an outstanding double play by the infield that the Maulers got out of the inning. With one game shakily under their belts, the Maulers will face off once more against New York over the next two games.

Eric read the column aloud while Alicia tended to his shoulder the day after the game.  The G-man's not gonna like this one bit, he said and let out a low whistle.

She worked the salve into the muscles of his shoulders, massaging it in for a while to relieve the stiffness there.  Pausing, she squirted another dollop of the herbal lotion into her hand, moved around to his front and massaged the area at the top of his arm and shoulder.  The faint white line of a scar marked the spot where years earlier he had been forced to have an operation for a rotator cuff injury.  As she applied gentle pressure, Eric sighed and held his breath.

I'm not hurting you, am I? she asked.

No, on the contrary.  That really feels good, he replied and inhaled deeply.  And the smell is relaxing.

Alicia smiled, appreciating his comments.  Thanks, Eric.  You always know how to make a girl feel good, she teased him and he grinned.

Too bad my ex-wife didn't seem to think so.

Beneath her hands, tension crept back into his body.  She knew he wasn't quite over his divorce three years earlier and she wondered at the woman who would rid herself of a man like Eric.  She regularly went out with him and Gabriel after the games and had found him to be bright, articulate, and considerate, which made her question the nature of the woman who had divorced him.

Not that I mean to pry, but unless you're a total Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde—

"I was . . . am a selfish jerk, Eric jumped in.  I promised her I'd hang up the cleats at thirty-two so we could settle down and she could have her career and kids, but . . .  I thought I'd have a ring by thirty-two.  When I didn't, I broke my promise and kept on playing."

He surprised her by taking the blame for his divorce and she thought more of him for his admission.  It’s a long shot, but maybe this will be the year, Eric.  Maybe it's not too late, Alicia commiserated but Eric said nothing else, merely sat on the table as she finished her massage.  It was obvious he was deep in thought and needed the quiet time.

When she completed the application of the salve, she wrapped his shoulder to give it the extra support his thirty-eight year old body needed.  He thanked her, rose, and walked out the door just as Joe sauntered in with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lean hips.

A sweat immediately broke out over her body as her pulse jumped up a few points.  She told herself she could handle this, the same way she did every time she saw him.  After all, she had spent the last decade running around naked men and he was no better or worse than most of them.

Liar, the tiny voice in her head chastised.  Long, lean legs led hips that could move like a dream on the dance floor.  Impossibly broad shoulders and powerful arms that she could imagine wrapped around her.