Spotlight (The Holland Brothers Book 4)

Friday after our first week of spring training, JT invites me to go out with him and a few of the guys. We hit up a dive bar near the stadium, taking up two long tables in a quiet corner.

Most of the days, pitchers and catchers work out separately from the other positions for a good portion of the day. Which means I haven’t had a lot of time to get to know the team. We eat together twice a day and there are team meetings and scrimmages, but there isn’t time to sit and relax.

And if I’m completely honest, I think a good portion of the team is holding out judgment on me. I can’t tell if they’re worried I’m going to ruin their season or if they’re just so used to guys coming in for one season and ditching that they don’t bother getting to know newbies.

Whatever the reason, tonight seems to be breaking the ice. Gunnar Cruise, the Mustangs’ first baseman, and Bo Mitchell, an outfielder, are deep in conversation about The White Lotus. While JT and one of our relief pitchers, Freddie, and I sit in a quiet, companionable silence.

It was a long week, filled with long days, and we’re all beat.

“Anyone want another round?” Freddie asks as he stares down at his nearly empty pint glass. He’s only a few years older than me but had an elbow injury two years ago that he’s battled on and off, which has kept him from seeing a lot of time on the mound.

“Nah. I should probably get home to the wife and kids,” JT says. “I’ve barely seen them this week.”

Freddie looks to me.

“I can stay.” My apartment, though I’ve barely been there except to sleep, is too quiet. No way I want to go stare at the blank walls all night.

“Yo, Gunnar,” Freddie calls down the table. “Another beer?”

“Yeah, but can we go someplace where women aren’t afraid to step through the door?” He nods his head toward the big, burly men at the bar. Their Harleys are parked out front and they’re all wearing leather and sporting beards. They look tough, even though I’d wager most of them are as friendly as they come, unless you touch their bike. I know from experience with my brother Knox. The fastest way to piss him off is to touch his bike… or his woman. Both and you’re a dead man.

Again, Freddie looks to me.

“Let’s do it,” I say.

JT drove us all over from the stadium so as he heads home, the rest of us pile into an Uber. I don’t bother asking where we’re going since anyplace but home is fine by me.

We pull up in front of Lilac Lounge, a popular night club. Sabrina used to work here as a dancer. It’s a cool place. Inside there’s a bar and tables spread out for groups who want to sit and chill. But outside there’s a patio surrounding a giant pool. They have a DJ on the weekends, and he’s set up at the back with cage dancers on either side of the stage.

“Now this is more like it.” Gunnar rubs his palms together as we enter the club. It’s packed tonight, making it hard to walk.

“This place has the hottest bartenders,” Freddie says to me.

I nod, but my brain swirls with something Archer said: Olivia bartends here. Or she did. That’s how she and Sabrina met and became friends. Olivia wasn’t here the night I came with my brothers and Sabrina though so maybe she quit? Except now that I think about it, she mentioned she bartended that night in New York.

I detour away from the rest of the group, speaking over my shoulder, “I’ll meet you guys out there.”

Freddie nods and I head toward the inside bar. There’s a chaotic crowd, trying to get close enough to order. Being tall gives me an advantage to see over the madness. Hanging back, I let my gaze scan the full length of the bar looking for a familiar blonde bombshell. Brunette, Brunette, Dude… but no Olivia.

Disappointment trickles in. With spring training, I haven’t had a lot of time to sit and think about anything else. But I have thought about her. She’s a tough one to crack. I know she’s attracted to me because she said as much in New York. Maybe it’s weird for her because I’m her best friend’s fiancé’s brother but that seems like a stretch. There’s something else holding her back and I intend to find out.

I pull out my phone to text Sabrina. I feel like there’s a good chance I can convince her to give me Olivia’s number or at least help me bump into her again. My future sister-in-law loves me. The feeling is mutual. She’s funny and protective of my brother. And anyone who makes Archer as happy as she does is okay in my book.

While I’m tapping out a message, someone bumps into me from behind.

“Sorry, man,” the guy says.

I glance up and turn to tell him it’s no problem, but that’s when I see her. She’s carrying a tray over her head as she squeezes through the crowd. The way her arms are lifted pulls her purple tank top up, exposing a whole lot of smooth, alabaster skin. Her tits are pushed up and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She’s dressed sexier than any other time I’ve seen her. Even though I know it’s a uniform meant to make people stare at her, I feel a jolt of possessiveness.

It takes some effort and time for her to push through and make her way behind the bar. She sets the tray down and moves to the far side of the bar to help the other bartenders.

I move in that direction, but still hang back while I watch her. A smile curves my lips. She’s quick, pouring drinks and taking the next order with an ease and skill that’s impressive. Other people notice too and move toward her side. Mostly men. Even without hearing her exchanges with some of the guys, I can tell they’re hitting on her. It’s in the way they lean toward her or linger a little longer than necessary.

She offers a few flirty smiles and even a wink to one older guy, but she’s moving so fast no one can pin her down long enough for more than a quick back and forth.

A group of guys celebrating someone’s birthday come away from the bar with drinks and shots, but a disappointed air surrounds them as they all pat the birthday boy on the shoulder. He must have been rejected.

I feel your pain, bro.

Every so often the female bartenders switch sides, so that each of them moves to work the opposite section they’ve been on. I don’t know the reasoning, but I can’t help but note that each time Olivia switches to work a new area, the guys up next in line that she leaves behind, groan with frustration.

I don’t know how long I watch this whole thing go on. I don’t even have a drink in my hand yet, but this is too good to miss. I inch closer without deciding. It isn’t like I planned to gawk at her from afar all night, but from a distance at least she can’t crush my hopes and dreams of taking her home.

Eventually a barstool frees up and I snag it. The new bartender on this side, a pretty brunette with a septum piercing, smiles at me.

“What can I get you?” she asks.

“Jack and Coke.”

She nods and gets busy pouring my drink. I lean back, staring across the bar at Olivia. The crowd is gradually starting to move outside, and the bartenders slow down a bit, taking a little more time getting orders, smiling and talking more. All except Olivia. She moves with that same hurried pace. It seems like she’s in a whole zone, not really seeing anything or anyone around her.

My drink is nearly gone when the bartenders switch again. Olivia moves toward me, only looking up at the last second.

“Can I get you another—” Her sentence comes to abrupt halt as her blue eyes lock on mine.

“Hey there.” I wave with the fingers around my glass.

She looks behind me like she expects to see Archer and Sabrina or anyone that explains my presence. When she doesn’t find anyone, she asks, “Are you stalking me?”

A small chuckle leaves my lips. “I came with some teammates. They’re outside.”

“Oh.” She tugs on the hem of her tank top.

“Purple is a good color on you. My new favorite in fact.”

“Are you expecting that line to work on me?” She raises her voice slightly to be heard over a group of noisy women nearby.

I get that familiar zing of excitement at her words. I love that she’s such a ball buster.

“That depends. Is it?”

“No.” She shakes her head, but a hint of a smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. Her gaze drops to my drink. “Want another?”

“Yeah. Thanks. Jack and Coke.”

While she pours it, I say, “You should have prepared me better for chapter twenty-eight.”

I guess I should have expected some spicy sex scenes, but as a new reader of the genre (or any genre, really), I did not.

She freezes, brows raised. “You read the book?”

“Yeah. In nearly one sitting. I’m working on the second one now.”

“I’ll let Ruby know. She’ll be thrilled to know she has a foothold in the male demographic.” Olivia places the new drink in front of me.

“I only have one critique.”

Her body language stiffens immediately. I lean forward, closing some of the distance between us. “Nine inches is not the perfect length.”

Her cheeks flush as she understands my meaning, but she keeps that haughty body language. “No?”

“Too big.” I lean back. “Chicks think they want that sort of size, but they’re never prepared for it.”

“And you know this because…”

I grin back at her, waiting… waiting… waiting…

Her mouth falls open. There it is.

“I don’t believe you.” She won’t quite meet my eyes though.

“I could prove it to you, but I think that might get me kicked out of here.” I glance down quick at my crotch and back to her.noveldrama

“Possibly arrested.” Her smile widens. That excitement and sparkle I remember from the night we spent together makes an appearance for the first time since then. There’s something intoxicating about being the one responsible for making her smile like that. Her carefree smiles are hard-earned, and it makes me that much more determined to get them out of her.

“Guess you’ll just have to come back to my place tonight then. What time are you off work?”

As quickly as her excitement appeared, it fades away. “Sorry. I’m busy.”

“What about tomorrow night?”

“I’m busy then too.”

“Sunday?”

“Busy,” we say at the same time. The busier she claims to be, the less I believe it.

“My ego is taking a real hit here, Liv.”

“Only my friends get to call me that.”

“Ouch.”

She grins, clearly loving baiting me as much as I love being baited by her.

“It’s okay. I like your name too much to shorten it anyway. O-liv-ia,” I say it slowly, enjoying every syllable.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say my name all sexy.”

“So you think the way I talk is sexy?”

She groans and turns away from me. Yep, she’s definitely into me.

She gives me a smirk as she moves to the side to take another drink order. For the next half hour or so I sit and drink and watch her work. Between customers she lingers near me, so I take that as a cue to keep talking her up.

“How’s the bookstore rivalry?”

She lifts both brows and gives me another exasperated look.

“Okay, fine, we won’t talk work. What was your first car?”

Clearly amused by the random question, she huffs a short laugh before she answers, “I had an old red Toyota truck.”

“A truck? Really?”

“It was my grandfather’s. He sold it to me cheap.”

“And now?”

“Surprised you don’t already know, stalker.”

“I’m in the intel gathering phase.”

After another short laugh, she says, “Honda SUV.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Nice vehicle.”

“It was one of the top safety picks last year.”

Now it’s my turn to be amused. Do people actually look at that stuff before they buy a car? I mean, they should but I’ve never heard someone say it before. Olivia is full of surprises.

“Let me guess, you drive a shiny new truck. A Ram maybe, something lifted with big tires.”

I shake my head.

“I’ve got a new Chevy outside, sweetheart,” some guy two seats down says. He has a bushy beard with twinges of gray in it. He strokes said beard as he continues, “Just drove it off the lot yesterday. Want to take a drive?”

“No thanks,” she says politely but firm.

He shrugs and takes another sip of his beer.

“You don’t seem like a sports car guy.” Her gaze narrows.

“I’m not sure if that’s an insult or not, but you’re correct. I do not drive a sports car. I wouldn’t mind having a McLaren someday though. Any more guesses?”

“Creepy white van?”

I chuckle. “Closer than your other guesses.”

She arches a brow.

“I have an old ’67 Ford F100 Ranger.”

“Damn.” The guy two seats down is clearly eavesdropping but the appreciative whistle he gives me is welcomed. “That was a good year.”

“You remember it?”

“I meant the truck.” He scowls at me. “How old do you think I am?”

“Uhh…”

Olivia fights a laugh, and I send the guy an apologetic tip of my head.

“Get him a round on me,” I say to her.

He minds his business after that, and Olivia and I continue trading random facts. I want to dig deeper, beyond the surface, but I’m afraid she’ll close up on me if I do.

“Did you really come with teammates or was that a line?” she asks as she pours another customer a drink.

“Oh shit,” I say, glancing toward the outdoor area.

Her lips curl together as she holds in a giggle.

Fuck, they completely slipped my mind.

I give her a sheepish smile. “I guess I should get back, so they don’t think I ditched them.”

A flicker of what could be disappointment crosses her face, but it’s gone so quickly I can’t be sure.

“Have fun!” She flits off to the other side of the bar before I can respond.

I leave cash on the bar in front of me and take my drink with me as I head outside. The music is louder out here. Lots of girls in bikinis and guys in trunks are in the water or sitting on the edge. The whole vibe is just… more. People are drunk and having fun. It’s the kind of environment I’d usually be all about, but tonight I’d rather be back inside sitting and talking to Olivia.

Still, I walk around until I find the guys. They’re at a table on the right side of the patio. Three women are sitting on the edge of the pool, their feet dangling in the water as they talk to them.

The girls look first as I approach, and the guys’ attention follows.

“We thought you bailed,” Gunnar says, then quieter adds, “Everyone always bails.”

That feels like a loaded statement that I don’t want to address tonight.

“I ran into someone I know inside,” I say then tip my head to the women with a polite smile.

“I know you.” One of the women narrows her gaze at me like she’s trying to place me. She has short black hair and light brown skin. I’m proud of myself for noticing anything other than her giant boobs because, damn, they’re basically falling out of her top.

“Flynn.” I lift a hand in a wave and take a seat beside Freddie.

“You’re on that billboard.” She points then nods excitedly as if she’s more sure of it now that she’s said it. “You’re one of the Holland brothers, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Ooooh. Can you introduce me to your brother? The motocross racer.” Another girl, sitting across from me, grins wide as she waits for my answer, then lets out a dreamy sigh. “He is so hot.”

“Sorry, he’s married.”

“Too bad. I guess you’ll do then. I’m Sadie.” She smiles and bats her lashes innocently. She’s fucking with me… I think. Her demeanor reminds me of Olivia a little.

A surprised laugh escapes my lips. “Lucky me.”

As the seven of us talk, Gunnar and one of the girls pair off, clearly into each other. Bo and her friend with the very large boobs are in deep discussion about The White Lotus, I’m starting to sense it’s a hot topic for him, and that leaves me and Freddie with Sadie.

Sadie’s pretty cool actually. I’m not into her, mostly because I can’t stop thinking about Olivia, but I’m enjoying talking to her. Freddie, on the other hand, is silent. When Sadie goes with her friends to get a new drink, I look to the guy next to me.

“Is everything okay with you?” I ask him.

“Yeah. Fine.” He drags both palms over his thighs.

He’s not fine, and after I stare at him a few seconds longer, he finally adds, “I just can’t talk to women. I get all flustered and nervous.”

“Seriously?”

He looks embarrassed as my brows lift in surprise, and I let out a low chuckle.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I’m surprised. You’re a cool dude and not terrible to look at.” I’m fucking with him. He’s got this good ole country boy vibe about him. Blond hair, blue eyes, golden skin. If he pulled his shirt off in here, he’d look like he was modeling for some popular clothing line.

“At best, I’m an eight out of ten. Then knock off three or four points when I open my mouth, and nothing comes out.”

“You haven’t said a single thing to them all night?” I ask, thinking back if I can remember him uttering a word since I’ve been here.

He shakes his head.

Well, fuck.

The girls are walking toward us, so I don’t have time to ask him more. Sadie drags a chair over next to me. She’s pulled on a pair of jean shorts with her white bikini top. She’s sexy as fuck, but I’d be leading her on by pretending to be interested in her while I can’t stop thinking about Olivia. And Freddie needs a win.

I clear my throat. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Sure,” Sadie says.

“Say a guy wanted to impress a girl but he keeps messing it up. He says the wrong thing or does the wrong thing, or maybe he doesn’t say or do anything at all.”

Freddie next to me is taking a drink from his beer and coughs. His cheeks turn pink.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Fine.” His tone has a little grit to it as he blushes and sneaks an embarrassed glance at Sadie.

“A bad first impression isn’t a deal breaker,” she says with no hint of recognition that I meant Freddie. In fact… I’m not just talking about him.

“Good to know. How does he recover?” I ask.

She takes a second to consider it. “At our core, women just want to be acknowledged and recognized for who we are individually. Everything is so surface level nowadays. Ask her questions, show an interest in getting to know her. Most men, and even other women for that matter, barge in with their own agenda and unless it magically matches my energy we never connect.”

Well shit. I’d expected a noncommittal reply about complimenting her hair or some shit. Sadie doesn’t strike me as vapid, but I wasn’t ready for her to drop reality bombs either.

“That’s a real fucking good answer,” I say as I think back to my last few encounters with Olivia. I’ve been so certain that we had this great connection that I jumped right in like we were going to pick up where we left off. Clearly, that hasn’t worked.

“Thank you.” She beams. “Who’s the girl?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Let’s just say if you were hitting on me the past hour, you’re doing a terrible job.”

I bark out a laugh. Freddie snickers too.

“I can help more if I know the full details.” She crosses one long leg over the other and leans forward.

So, I tell her everything. Or a lot of it anyway. About New York, and then running into Olivia now.

“Maybe she’s seeing someone else. It’s been months.” Freddie finally finds his voice.

The idea of Olivia dating someone else makes me scowl. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” Sadie asks. “That’s actually a good point.”

“Thank you.” Freddie is loosening up and blushing less. I’m glad my misery could bring them together.

“I don’t think that’s it.” Olivia doesn’t seem like the type to keep that to herself. If the reason were that simple, she’d just say so.

“Have you asked her?” Sadie’s brows lift as she questions me.

“Of course. She says she isn’t dating at all right now.”

“That’s bullshit,” Freddie says, then looks at Sadie. “Right?”

She preens at him. “Yes, but there’s a story there. Figure that out and you’ll be closer to figuring out what the real problem is.”

The conversation shifts after that. Freddie seems to have gotten comfortable, but while they switch topics, I’m stuck on Olivia. Seems to be a common problem lately.

“I think I’m going to head out.” I elbow Freddie. “You good?”

“Yeah. Are you?” He briefly studies me, then glances toward the inside of the club as if to remind me of Olivia.

“Fantastic.” I grin. “See you tomorrow.”

We bump fists and I stand.

Sadie smiles softly. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

I set my drink glass on a small empty table just before I step inside the club. A new crowd has gathered in the time I’ve been outside, and I fight through people again to get to the bar.

One giant group of guys, fraternity brothers judging by the college name and Greek letters on their shirts and hats, is gathered in a big huddle in the center of the room. They’re loud, drunk, laughing and having a good time.

For the briefest moment, a flicker of longing for that kind of carefree fun hits me. Not that long ago, I was out with my college buddies at a place a lot like this. I was so ready to be playing professionally, to get to that next level, that I probably didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. I feel older than I am, but that’s always been true.

Maybe it stems from being the youngest in a family of successful athletes or maybe I just have an old soul, but I’ve spent my life working so hard for the next step that I often wonder if I missed out on enjoying the moments as they happened.

I don’t want to go back to the minor leagues or to college, but it’s difficult to stop myself from wondering how things might be different if I hadn’t always been so eager to be where I am now.

As I’m edging around the frat guys, I spot Olivia. She’s out from behind the bar again. One hand holds up a tray of shots as she navigates through the crowd with a grace and steadiness that is sexy and impressive.

My body tingles as I watch her. She’s a knockout, but it’s more than that. I just dig her, and I refuse to accept that night in New York wasn’t indicative of how good we could be together.

As I’m walking toward her, one of the guys in the group of fraternity brothers approaches her. I can’t hear him, but her reaction is all I need to know he’s hitting on her. She shakes her head with that same firm but polite look she’s given a lot of other men tonight. I hate to admit that I enjoy watching her turn down some other guy, especially since she’s done the same to me a few times now.

I don’t have long to enjoy that feeling though because as she tries to walk off, he wraps an arm around her waist from behind and I have an “oh shit” reaction. My brows rise in surprise and my blood boils. It’s fucking slimy to put your hands on a woman without her permission, and even I can tell from here that she wasn’t interested in whatever he had to offer.

I move toward them quickly, but by the time I get there she’s already extracted herself from his hold.

“Aww, come on,” he says. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he reeks of beer. He extends a hand like he might touch her again, but I grab him by the forearm.

“You good?” I ask her as I hold on to the guy.

“Fine.” Relief flashes in her eyes for a second.

“Dude.” The drunk guy pulls free and looks at me with disdain. I really didn’t have bar fight on my agenda tonight. Fuck.

I don’t even bother giving him my attention. My gaze stays on Olivia. She regains her composure quickly and puts another step of distance between her and the idiot.

“What the fuck? We were having a conversation,” he says to me.

“You touched her.” I finally flick my stare in his direction.

“I was just playing around.”

“Really. I’m fine.” Olivia’s tone is hard, and her stunning blue eyes bore into me with a clear signal not to get involved.

But there’s little to no chance I’m going to stand by while some creep violates her personal space.

“See?” He grins at me like he’s proved his point.

I don’t like it, but the situation seems to be under control.

“As I was saying.” He steps in front of me and sways.

Motherfucker. This time when he reaches out for her, I don’t catch him in time. His fingers spread across her stomach and while I’m grabbing him by the back of the shirt and putting myself between Olivia and this asshole, she does one better. She tosses a beer from her tray into his face. Or mine since I’m now blocking him.

“Everything okay here?” The question comes from a deep voice to my right.

When I blink away the beer stinging my eyes, I find one of the bouncers has positioned himself in front of Olivia.

“Great,” I mutter as the cold liquid drips down my face and seeps into my shirt.

As the bouncer takes in the scene, he must decide it is in fact not great, because the next thing I know he’s guiding me and the drunk dude toward the front door.

A couple of his fraternity friends follow us out, and when their brother starts protesting, they offer me sympathetic smiles.

“Get him out of here,” I say to them. “And when he sobers up, tell him the next time he puts his hands on a woman, he better be damn sure she’s consented.”

“She was into me,” he tries to argue with me more, but they’re pulling him away from me. Smart choice.

I pull off my T-shirt as I walk around the side of the building. I wring out as much of the beer as I can and then sigh. What a fucking night.

My adrenaline is still pumping as I pull up the rideshare app. I’m about to request a Lyft when Olivia appears out of an employee door. Her steps falter when she spots me.

“I’m so sorry,” I say as I look her over. She has her keys in hand and her purse over one shoulder. I don’t move in case she’s still feeling spooked.

“I was about to say the same thing. I wasn’t aiming for you, in case that wasn’t clear.” Her gaze dips to my bare chest and then lower. A ripple of lust shoots through me as she stares a little longer than necessary.

A smirk plays over my lips when she meets my stare again. “No apology needed. I should have known you had it handled.”

“I did try to warn you.”

“They didn’t send you home because of that guy, did they?”

“No. I was supposed to be off about thirty minutes ago. That was my last walk-through before clocking out.”

I nod, still not moving toward her. She doesn’t budge either.

“Well, I guess I should go.” She glances around the dark parking lot.

“Let me walk you,” I say.

She opens her mouth like she might argue, but I motion with my head and take a step.

“Come on. It’ll make me feel better to know you’re safe. And keep me from getting into a bar brawl,” I mutter the last part.

She laughs lightly and we fall into step together. I let her take the lead and she walks up to a small black SUV. She hits the key fob, and the vehicle unlocks, lights flashing.

“I made it. Safe and sound.”

I open the door for her, and she cocks one brow. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Being a gentleman, you mean?”

“It is a lost art,” she says.

“One more reason you should go out with me.”

“Good night, Flynn.”

I think about what Sadie said about how maybe I wasn’t really listening to her now, but then I think about the drunk idiot and how he couldn’t take no for an answer.

While I’m deciding whether or not I should shoot my shot again, she gets into her vehicle. So, I shut the door and step back, then lift a hand in a wave.