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  CAUGHT LOOKING

  © 2020 by Tara Wyatt

  All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  ISBN 978-0-9950381-3-4

  Contents

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  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

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  Books by Tara Wyatt

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Somewhere in Colorado - 6 weeks ago

  Abby Gossman adjusted the ties on her string bikini and then grabbed two beers out of the little fridge built into the deck. Mountains stretched before her, poking up their jagged edges into the gorgeous cerulean sky. The tiniest hint of pink danced around the horizon as the sun began to sink. The wooden deck on which she stood was private, making it feel like a secluded wooden gondola hanging in the mountain air. The Rolling Stones wafted quietly from a small BlueTooth speaker on a nearby table. She hummed along with “Beast of Burden” as she walked across the deck, the wood smooth under her feet.

  With a contented sigh, she stepped into the bubbling hot tub, letting the water soothe her muscles and her mind. This, right here, was bliss, and the perfect way to spend the few days of free time she had thanks to the All-Star break. With a twist, she pried the cap off of her beer and took a long sip. She’d been looking forward to these few days of relaxation for a while. She loved her job, but it was hard. Really hard, sometimes. As the first female coach in the MLB, she had to work twice as hard and be twice as good as any of the guys to get half the respect. Sometimes it was a lot to shoulder. Not that she’d give it up for anything. She’d busted her ass to get where she was, and she was damn proud of everything she’d accomplished. Even if it was tiring being a trailblazer all the time. Striving for perfection, worried that one small mistake or bad run of games might cost her her job because blaming the chick hitting coach was an easy way out of a bad situation. She knew that if the Dallas Longhorns—who were in hot contention for a wild card spot thanks to their stellar run this season—slipped up, it’d be her head on the sacrificial altar. And then what would she do with herself? If she got fired, hell would freeze over before another MLB team touched her. She’d be back to softball or maybe, if she was lucky, college ball. Baseball was life. Baseball was her chosen family.

  So yeah, she was going to soak up all of the relaxation she could over the next couple of days. After another sip of her beer, she tipped her head back and let her eyes drift closed. From somewhere behind her, the sliding glass door that led to the suite slid open, a cap was twisted off the other beer she’d set out, then 220 pounds of athletically honed muscle got in the water beside her.

  “Now this may be one of my better ideas,” said Jake Landon from beside her. “And I have a lot of good ideas.”

  Abby smiled at him, her heart fluttering in her chest just a little. Every time she looked at him, her heart did this funny little shivering jump in her chest. He had thick brown hair, just long enough that it curled around his ears and fell across his forehead. His eyes were light brown with smile lines fanning out around them, and eyelashes that would make any woman jealous. He had an easy smile coupled with a muscled, athletic grace that made him almost impossibly sexy. On top of being sexy as hell, he was a veteran catcher for the Cincinnati Reds, known for his leadership both on and off the field. Something he wasn’t known for, though, was the fact that she’d been seeing him for over six months now. Jake Landon was her boyfriend, even if it was a secret.

  And while sneaking around wasn’t really her style, when it came to Jake, she had no choice. Because while she definitely had feelings for him, she knew how it would look if it became public knowledge that she was sleeping with a player. Granted, it wasn’t like he played for the Longhorns or anything—the Reds weren’t even in the same League, thankfully—but she still knew the damage it would do to her reputation.

  “I have to agree,” she said, rolling her neck.

  “That this was a good idea, or that I have a lot of good ideas?” He smiled at her, the playful, cocky twist of his lips that made her feel all melty inside.

  “Both.”

  His smile widened and he clinked the neck of his beer bottle against hers, and they drank in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  “Oh, God, this is heaven on my back,” he groaned, positioning himself against one of the tub’s many jets.

  “Is it bothering you again?” She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to give him hell for playing injured. Again.

  “Again?” He snorted and wiggled himself closer to the jet. “Always. Probably for the best I didn’t get into the game this year. I could use the break.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get the votes this year,” she said, taking a sip of her beer and steering away from the subject that always made him grumpy. He didn’t like to talk about his mounting injuries or the toll being a major league catcher for nearly fifteen seasons had taken on his body. The end of his career had to be quickly approaching, and she knew he wasn’t ready to face that fact head on.

  He shrugged, his big shoulders moving up and down. “I’m not. The All-Star game’s a circus and one I’m happy to miss this year if it means more time with you.” He set his beer down on the ledge of the hot tub and reached for her, pulling her into his lap. She straddled his thighs, settling against him, her heart beating happily.

  “Cheeseball,” she said, looping her arms around his neck. Steam rose up from her skin, mostly from the hot water, but maybe a little from Jake. He turned her on like no one ever had. It was as though he had some kind of magic power over her. She’d never experienced anything like it before.

  “Your cheeseball.” He leaned forward and buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin there. His fingers toyed with the tie of her bikini top, loosening it with agonizing slowness, his other giant hand splayed across her back. She loved how big he was; he was the only man she’d ever been with who made her feel dainty and feminine. She was no delicate flower at 5’8 and somewhere in the neighborhood of 170 pounds, but Jake made her feel tiny. Girly and pretty in a way she didn’t usually.

  She let out a little moan as he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth and she wove her fingers into his thick hair. His salt-and-pepper hued stubble rasped against her skin, sending electricity coursing through her. Liquid heat that had nothing to do with the hot tub built between her legs, and she moved her hips against him. She could feel him, hard and thick, beneath his swim trunks.

  Oh, yeah. She loved how big Jake was.

  His hands dropped to her hips and he stilled her movements. He closed his eyes for a second and let out a breath. When he opened them, their light brown color was almost golden in the fading light around them. “Abby, I wanna go public.”

  She pulled back and smiled, cupping his face in her hands. They’d had this conversation before, and it had always gone the same way. “Not gonna happen.”

  He lifted a hand out of
the water and trailed his fingers over her arm, sending warm water trickling down her skin. “Would it really be that bad if the world knew we were together?”

  She pressed her forehead to his. “Probably not for you, but for me? Yeah, it would be that bad.”

  “What if you’re over thinking it? It would be gossip for a bit, and then everyone would forget and move on.”

  She shook her head, frustration bubbling up inside her. She didn’t want to fight with him, not this weekend when they had so much time together. “It would ruin my reputation, Jake. It would undo everything I’ve worked so hard for. I’ve fought to earn the respect of my players, of the fans, of everyone. It doesn’t matter to them that I was a college all-star, or that I won a freaking gold medal at the Olympics playing softball, or that I’m damn good at my job. If we went public, it would tarnish all of it. No one would take me seriously. I’d just be that coach who fucks players. I’d be a clubhouse punchline.”

  He swallowed and then nodded, his head bobbing against hers. “I get that. I do. I just…I really care about you, Abby.” His eyes were luminous, almost sparkling at her. He reached up and brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her eyes. “This isn’t just sex or a fling for me.”

  She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his big palm. “I know. I feel the same way about you. But for now, this is how things have to be. Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay? I don’t want to lose what we have, but I also don’t want to jeopardize my career. You get that, right?”

  He nodded. “I do. I just…Fuck, I just wanna tell everyone that you’re mine. That’s all.” He kissed her, a slow, hot sweep of his tongue against hers. “I think you’re incredible.” He finally finished what he’d started with her bikini ties, undoing them all the way. Her top fell, exposing her breasts. He dipped his head and pulled her nipple into his talented mouth, sending pleasure arrowing down her body, feeding the needy heat gathering between her legs. His teeth scraped over her nipple, and when he spoke, his stubble rasped against her skin. “Promise me we’ll talk about this again. Soon. That’s all I ask.” He turned his attention to her other nipple and she let out a small, desperate moan, her hands lost in his hair.

  “Okay, yeah. I promise.” With Jake’s mouth on her and his thick cock pressing against her inner thigh, she didn’t want to think about how the future might unfold. She didn’t want to wallow in the uncertainty around how to balance her relationship with Jake with her career, so instead, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, focusing on the here and now. As long as they could keep everything on the down low, as long as everything stayed exactly the way it was right now, they’d figure it all out.

  She had to believe that.

  One

  Dallas – Now

  Abby strode into the clubhouse mentally reviewing her to-do list for the day, her mind whirring as activity buzzed around her. The team was on a winning streak and spirits were high, even though the trade deadline had just passed, which always left everyone a little on edge. No one wanted to get the news that he had to pack up his life and family and head across the country to play for a new team. It was a massive upheaval, and while it came with the game, no one ever wanted it. She felt relieved that in her position, she couldn’t be traded.

  No, only fired, her brain reminded her helpfully.

  Javi, the team’s manager, stepped out of his office, and she knew that expression. The furrowed brow, the thin line of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders. The team hadn’t escaped the trade deadline without changes, after all.

  “Everyone listen up,” he said, his voice loud in the suddenly quiet clubhouse. “As you may have noticed, we’re down a few men today.” He put his hands on his hips, meeting the eyes of every single player as he spoke. Javi had always treated everyone fairly and equally—including her—and she respected him for it. “We all know that we’re making a push for the wild card. We’re close, but not quite close enough, so management thought we could do with shoring up in a few key positions. We’ve traded Alejandro Cruz to the Astros in exchange for pitcher Connor Slate and Hiroshi Miyata to the Reds for veteran catcher Jake Landon.”

  A furious ringing started up in Abby’s ears and her vision narrowed, black clouding in at the edges. A wave of dizziness rocked her and she leaned forward, grabbing on to a nearby equipment cart to try to steady herself. Gear tumbled down noisily and blood rushed to her face as she scrambled to put the elbow pads and catcher’s masks back onto the cart. But her hands were shaking too badly to make them cooperate, and after a third fumbling attempt, she gave up and left the equipment where it lay, making a beeline for the bathroom.

  She locked the door behind her and slumped against it, her hand pressed to her chest as she tried to get her heart to slow down.

  Jake had been traded to the Longhorns. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  “Oh shit,” she whispered. She pressed a hand to her lips, not quite able to believe this was real. Her hand still shook a little as she reached into the back pocket of her leggings for her phone.

  She had one missed call, and a voicemail from about ten minutes ago. Both from Jake. She closed her eyes, her stomach heavy as she dialed in to listen to the message.

  “Abby, hey,” he said. His voice had a hoarseness to it, a hesitation that she wasn’t used to hearing. “We need to talk. Call me back. It’s urgent.”

  Too late. Not that the trade was his fault, by any means. He hadn’t had any more control over this than Cruz or Miyata had. It was a part of the game. A shitty part, but a part all the same.

  She pushed away from the door and strode over to the sink. As she splashed cold water on her overheated face, an ache took root somewhere deep in her chest. The initial shock of learning he’d been traded started to fade as the news sank in, giving way to a deep, yearning sadness.

  Her throat thickened and she swallowed around the painful lump sitting there. This had to be the end, didn’t it? She couldn’t date someone on her team. It had been risky enough to date a player she wasn’t coaching. But now…Her eyes stung, and she wiped at her face roughly. She’d have to let him go. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it was also the only thing she could do.

  As she called him back, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her skin was splotchy, her eyes rimmed with red and unshed tears. She sniffed, wiping at her nose as she listened to it ring.

  “Abby,” he said, a little breathlessly. Noise buzzed in the background, making him a little hard to hear. He was probably already at the airport, catching the next flight to Dallas. Normally the sound of his voice did all kinds of things to her—very, very good things—but today, it just made her chest feel tight, like she couldn’t get enough air.

  “I just heard from Javi.”

  He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Can we talk, when I get there? I don’t want to do this on the phone.”

  She nodded, so fast and hard that it made her vision blur. “Sure. Yeah. I’ll be here. Just, uh, just come find me, I guess.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  A silence fell between them, heavy with everything they weren’t saying. She shivered and closed her eyes. “Have a safe flight.”

  “Thanks.”

  She disconnected the call and shoved her phone back into her pocket. A restless energy spilled into her limbs. Sadness and anger and frustration, twisting together until she was a knot of emotion. She wanted to scream, and cry, and hit things. She wanted this to be a bad dream she’d wake up from. She wanted this to not be real.

  But it was. It very much was.

  She turned away from her reflection in the mirror, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and stepped back out, pretending her heart hadn’t just broken into a hundred pieces over what she’d lost.

  Abby adjusted her grip on the bat, tightening her fingers around its wooden neck as she focused on the next pitch coming at her from the pitching machine she’d loaded with fifty balls, hoping fifty would be enough to work through the confu
sing onslaught of emotion clouding her brain. The machine spit the ball at her and she swung, the crack of her bat reverberating around the empty field of Dell Park. The ball soared up into the night sky, disappearing into the lights. She lost track of it, but it didn’t matter. The next pitch was coming, and right now, the next pitch was all she could think about.

  So she swung, over and over again, until her forearms were on fire, until her shoulders were complaining, until her hands were numb with impact after impact. But it didn’t matter. She could hit a hundred pitches, a thousand, and it wouldn’t clear anything up. It wouldn’t change anything.

  Jake Landon was officially a member of the Dallas Longhorns, which meant he’d be in her clubhouse. She’d be his hitting coach. If Jake were here, he’d probably make a joke about liking being under her. At that thought, something clutched at her chest, and she swallowed around the thickness clogging her throat. She wasn’t going to cry; she’d already cried enough today and Jake wasn’t even here yet. Tom Hanks was right—there was no crying in baseball.

  The news of the trade had shocked the hell out of her, and she’d barely been able to function all day, trying her best to get through BP and the game against the Tigers. Her mind spun with thoughts of Jake. Of them, and what this trade meant for each of them, both professionally and personally. His life was in turmoil too—he’d played for Cincinnati for the past ten seasons. He had a home, a life there, and now he had to uproot himself to Dallas.