Strike (Gentry Generations #1) Page 4

  As we moved with the herd of happy ticket holders on their way to the game, my sister nudged me.

  “So tell me more about your new job.”

  Again I thought about Dalton. But there really wasn’t much worth telling and I didn’t want to sound like some adolescent fool who got all bent out of shape over the sight of a chiseled jaw and broad shoulders.

  “Uneventful,” I said rather airily.

  By the time we reached the entrance gate to the ballpark I had resolved to stop thinking about Dalton Tremaine. It was pointless. Chances were I wouldn’t be running into him a whole lot this summer.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Dalton

  Sometimes when I was driving myself over unforgiving terrain with blood roaring in my ears and sweat pouring down my face the voice of my father would haunt me.

  “Push harder. Don’t be a fucking loser.”

  Terry Tremaine grew up with big dreams of being like his own father but he never quite got there. My grandfather had played pro football for a few years before his fifth concussion took him out of his game for good. He bought a few burger chain restaurants and died of an aneurysm when he was fifty so I don’t remember him. My own father didn’t find the same kind of sports glory but he was obsessed with getting me there, even if it meant he became more of a drill sergeant than a dad. My mother was gone half the time on her archaeological digs even before they divorced and my older brother never cooperated with anyone if he could help it. But my father saw in me a combination of talent and drive that he figured could be molded into something meaningful if he was able to push me hard enough.

  “You’ll get nowhere waiting for luck to strike, Dalton. There’s no such fucking thing. It’s all sweat.”

  The man might have been right that there was no such thing as luck. I considered the idea as I paused after grinding my way up a large rocky incline to enjoy the view of the resort and golf course sprawled out in the distance. There was a time when I considered myself one lucky bastard. I had it all; the job of my dreams, admirers everywhere I turned. And then I thought I’d found the holy grail in this great, scheming mess of life. I thought I’d found love.

  Maybe it was love for a little while. Alexa seemed like the perfect girl; beautiful, smart and blessed with the kind of charismatic presence that made everyone in a room turn to admire her. Alexa was a model and we both spent a whole lot more time apart and traveling than we did with each other but that couldn’t be helped. A year went by and she kept hinting that she was expecting a ring. Eventually I started thinking marriage might be the next step in life. On the night I proposed I was still on a high from hitting a walk off home run against a division rival. I could see myself doing it all. Star player, husband, family man. I would be the best damn father to any kids I had. I wouldn’t blast them out of bed with an air horn at five a.m. to go run sprints on the high school track or force them to practice at the batting cages until their hands were blistered.

  When the bottom dropped out of my major league career I wasn’t expecting my fiancé to take off. But looking back, I understand that whatever Alexa and I had was not built for the long haul. We were both probably guilty of being more infatuated by the idea of each other than the reality. The demands of our careers meant we weren’t together all that much and at the end it occurred to me that we never really knew each other that well. All in all, I know I was lucky to dodge the Alexa bullet, especially before we dragged some kids into the situation. Still, I was a little soured on the idea of love and I knew it would be a while before I was in the mood to get struck by anything like it again. I wasn’t even planning to look.

  On the other hand, I did miss getting exercised in a more practical way. No complications were required for simple fucking.

  Griffin had begged off the morning workout, texting that he had something pretty in his bed and she needed more attention. Griffin was a total dog but I had to admit he was probably having more fun than I was right now. Good for him. I had no cause to complain when off the top of my head I could think of half a dozen hot options that would be eager for a roll in the sheets. The women I came across at the club weren’t shy about letting me know what they were willing to do.

  Sometimes I was tempted. Severely tempted.

  I tried to shove all thoughts of sex aside because I still needed to ride back down the hill and it would be easier without a stiff boner in my shorts. But then I remembered Cami and all bets were off.

  There was no good reason to keep thinking about some girl I’d just met. Especially because she seemed really young, worked at the resort and according to yesterday morning’s botched interview, was just going to be around for the summer. Yet all day yesterday I couldn’t get the image of her soft lips out of my head. And then when I saw her walking to her car I didn’t even pause before stopping to offer her a lift in the golf cart I’d hijacked. There was a moment when she hopped out and turned to look at me, somewhat expectantly, and I’d nearly blurted out an invitation to dinner.

  I stopped myself just in time.

  Technically she was off limits even though she was just a seasonal employee, although I knew Griffin wouldn’t even shrug over the idea of us getting together. But Cami didn’t strike me as the type you could fuck around with for a few hot nights and then forget about. So I bit the words off before they had a chance to come out and let her walk away.

  I stayed up on the summit long enough to chug eight ounces of water as I tried to think of things that didn’t involve lips and skin and a green-eyed girl I shouldn’t touch. The sun was peeking over the mountains in the east and it would bring the heat of hell along with it so I didn’t linger much longer.

  After barreling down the rocky hill and stowing the bike I returned to my room to shower off while mentally running through a checklist for the day. It was a full one with meetings and paperwork and two more interviews in search of elusive experienced bartenders. My nights rarely ended before one a.m. and I liked to be up with the sun but luckily my sleep requirements had been on the low end since I was a kid. I always appreciated being able to squeeze more into a day than the average man.

  My phone rang as I was heading out the door and I might have let it go if the caller was anyone other than my brother.

  “What’s up with the king of the dipshits?” I said by way of greeting.

  “Take a look in the mirror and let me know,” he answered.

  I chuckled. Even though these days I heard from Hale about as often as frost appeared in the desert, we always picked up right where we left off. He wasn’t the type to call on anyone’s birthday or show up for Christmas dinner but he always made sure I knew how to reach him if I needed to. My big brother, once a defiant boy with an eternal chip on his shoulder, was long gone by the time I was drafted into the majors. Hale was an eternal nomad, always bouncing around from one place to the next, never putting down roots and often operating on the wrong side of the law.

  We chatted for a few minutes and when I asked he told me he was in Denver at the moment on a job but he was vague when it came to details. Instinct told me his current occupation was either illegal or straddling the line so I didn’t press the matter. I was just glad to hear his voice.

  “Sounds like a good setup,” he remarked after I explained what I was up to around here. “Glad to hear things are working out for you now.”

  “They are,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t ask the things that everyone else asked about. Are you ever playing ball again? Do you ever hear from that girl you were gonna marry?

  Hale didn’t mention any of that though and I was grateful. He moved on smoothly to a different subject, asking if I still had the old refurbished Harley I’d ridden around on for years.

  I was outside now and I stayed in the shade of the building’s shadow as I leaned against a stucco wall. In the distance I saw a quartet of portly middle aged golfers heading out to the green in a sputtering golf cart.

  “Nah, I got rid of the old bike,” I told Hale. “Al
ong with a few other things, if you’ll recall.”

  “Sometimes you’re better off,” he said tactfully, “unloading excess baggage and not looking back.”

  “Sometimes you are,” I agreed, thinking about the past. To hell with Alexa and her superficial bullshit but sometimes I did miss the game, missed being part of a team and missed the focus that came with trying to win every day. And sometimes I even missed my old bike. Last fall I had traded it in and splurged on a classic restored pickup truck but there was nothing comparable to roaring down a highway toward distant mountains with the sun beating down and the scent of the wild desert everywhere.

  Someday I’d think about getting another bike.

  Maybe.

  “It snowed here today,” Hale said.

  “No shit? It’s the end of May.”

  He snorted. “It’s Denver.”

  Meanwhile, I was standing in the shade at eight in the morning and could already feel the encroaching heat. In another two hours the temperature would be blistering. “Wish you could send some of that this way.”

  “Or you could just come for a visit,” he suggested.

  “If I ever get invited.”

  Hale snorted. “I just invited you, fucker.”

  I thought about it. Heading out of town for a few days was appealing and I hadn’t seen my brother in nearly a year. But right now I didn’t have a second in command to look after the club and I couldn’t just bail on Griffin. “I’ll see if I can figure something out.”

  “Good.” He paused. “Any word on the folks?”

  Hale and I didn’t talk often but that was still far more communication than he had with either of our parents.

  “Mom’s on a six month dig up in the Badlands so I only get word sporadically but she’s happy doing her thing. And of course Dad’s right where he’s always been.”

  “You mean furiously slaving away for eighteen hours a day and alienating everyone in sight?”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “What a life.” Hale made a noise that sounded like either a hiss of disgust or bitter laughter.

  Every now and then I ignored the dread in my gut and called my father but the conversation never went smoothly and I ended up being sorry I’d made the effort.

  Suddenly on Hale’s end of the line a muffled female voice made an unhappy comment and then my brother gruffly snapped, “In a damn minute.”

  “You got company?” I asked.

  “You could call it that,” he answered with a yawn and I figured that was as much information as I was likely to get out of him. Since Hale jumped around from place to place he didn’t have a habit of settling into relationships. Once, about five years ago, he showed up to see me play ball in Houston. On his arm was a woman he casually introduced as his girl, Stella. She was sweetly pretty and courteous, plus I could tell at a glance that she was over the moon about my brother. But next time I asked about her he changed the subject without answering. He never mentioned her again, or anyone else in particular.

  We said our goodbyes a few minutes later and I felt a little hollow as I heard the connection break. Before Hale hung up he had said, “Maybe I’ll find my way down to Phoenix sometime soon.”

  I didn’t believe it. He hadn’t set foot in the state in years. I didn’t argue though.

  As I made my way to the main building I thought of a poem I’d heard years ago. I couldn’t remember any of the exact words but I remembered the gist of it, that your siblings are likely to be your first and best friends, the people who will still be around when all lesser relationships have fallen to the wayside. Hale was my only brother and often I wished we were closer.

  It was warm out but still pleasant enough for a walk so I changed course and followed the path that meandered around the small lake and toward the north end of the resort. There could have been some part of my subconscious that was leading me in the direction where Cami might be, yet I still stopped short and felt surprised when I caught a glimpse of her.

  She must have just arrived for work since it was ten minutes before nine and Blue Rain would soon be opening their doors for the day.

  Cami was leaning against a mesquite tree and scribbling in a small notebook like a schoolgirl. Suddenly she stopped writing and pressed the top of her pen to her lips as she gazed pensively out over the lake.

  Yesterday I hadn’t had a real opportunity to appreciate the beauty of her profile but today I took a good long look. Her features were delicate, striking enough to attract a second glance but nothing that would put her on the cover of a magazine. But even when she was gazing in another direction I could see the sharp intelligence in her face that I had noticed yesterday.

  Suddenly I really wanted to know what was going on inside her head.

  And then just as suddenly I wondered why the hell I cared.

  She was cute and she had a body that I wouldn’t mind plundering but somehow I was sure that wasn’t why I silently watched her from twenty yards away.

  “Are you going to say hello?” she called abruptly while still gazing at the calm lake water. “Or are you going to keep standing there and staring?”

  I didn’t answer immediately. I took my time and casually headed in her direction until I was standing at her side. Then I bent down close to her ear and said, “Hello, Cami.”

  Cami snapped her notebook closed before she turned and faced me. Her thick brown hair was again tied back in a ponytail that fell halfway down her back in long waves. She smelled like soap and vanilla.

  “Funny how we keep running into each other,” she said, surveying me with those bright green eyes.

  “It’s not that funny. We seem to work in the same place.”

  She shook her head. “But we don’t, not really. I hand out towels at the spa right behind us. You manage the club on the other side of the resort.”

  “Are you implying that I’m stalking you, Cami?”

  She looked at me carefully. “No, Dalton. I’m pretty sure you get as much attention as you need without stalking anyone.”

  The comment irritated me slightly. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “It wasn’t an insult.”

  “Then what was it?”

  She shrugged. “An observation. You seem like the type of guy who enjoys plenty of company.”

  “You must be pretty damn perceptive to come to that conclusion after a few short conversations.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “No.” I let my arm brush against hers and felt a wave of satisfaction when she fidgeted. “You’re not wrong. I can have company anytime I want it.”

  The look on her face was almost disappointed. “Oh.”

  Part of me wanted to take her officious attitude down another notch but a bigger part of me didn’t want to piss her off. I backed off and gestured to the notebook she was clutching in her arms. “I didn’t mean to disturb you when you were writing.”

  She hugged her notebook tighter and blushed. “I was just scribbling down some random thoughts.”

  “You don’t see too much scribbling in this electronic age. Hell, I figured kids these days might not know how to use a pen.”

  Cami threw me a look. “A kid? How old do you think I am?”

  “Probably not old enough to come have a drink in my club.”

  She smirked. “I turned twenty one earlier this year.”

  “Congratulations and welcome to the world of adulthood.”

  She cocked her head. “Thanks. How long have you been living there?”

  “Where, adulthood? Let’s just say you were probably in middle school when I arrived.”

  “And you’ve been managing night clubs the whole time?”

  I didn’t really want to dive into an explanation of my ball playing days. “Let’s leave some of the mystery for our next encounter.”

  “If we have one.”

  I picked up a flat stone and flung it into the water, where it skipped three times. “We will.”

  Cami did
n’t say anything and when I looked her way I saw that she was studying me rather intently.

  “I can’t decide if you’re being polite or arrogant,” she said.

  I grinned. “Maybe a little bit of both. Either way, I have to tell you something unpleasant.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s now five minutes past nine. You’re late for work.”

  “Shit!” she exclaimed, hastily stuffing her little notebook into a battered old purse.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “If anyone gives you a hard time just tell them that Dalton Tremaine needed to have a quick word with you. No one will second guess you if you mention my name.”

  Cami settled her purse back on her shoulder and tipped her chin up. “I think I’ve decided that you are indeed arrogant.”

  “If I was arrogant I’d assume you plan on turning up at my club for that drink we talked about earlier.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t assume that. But if you buy me a cup of coffee I might drink it.”

  Cami scurried away with the last word.

  I let her have it.

  If she would have turned around before she reached the doors of the Blue Rain Spa then she might have noticed I was staring at her ass again. I was also starting to wonder if I ought to reconsider my hands off policy where this girl was concerned. A familiar ache was stirring below the belt.

  I wouldn’t mind chipping away at that know-it-all college girl attitude and having her in a dozen dirty ways.

  I wouldn’t mind it at all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Camille

  So far every encounter with Dalton Tremaine had left me feeling like he somehow had the upper hand. This morning I’d run off before he had a chance to answer my last statement but somehow that didn’t matter. I still felt like he had my number, that he somehow guessed that I’d spent some time last night wondering how it would feel to be crushed against his strong chest. In Dalton’s presence I had the sense of being off balance, almost nervous. I wasn’t used to that at all.