Page 25 of The Devil In Denim
But still, he found his attention riveted as Maggie chewed, swallowed then licked her lips, her tongue pink against the deeper color of her lips.
He froze, his hand half stretched toward the pizza box.
“Problem?” Ollie drawled.
Alex shook himself out of his stupor, saw the warning in Ollie’s eyes, and grabbed for the pizza. “Nope. Just deciding what I wanted.”
“Sometimes the choice is difficult. Sometimes it’s easy.” Ollie’s voice held a warning rumble. That was his second warning. Strike two. But unless he was mistaken, Maggie and Ollie had been over a long time ago, which meant that Ollie didn’t get a say in what Maggie did or didn’t do.
“I know what I like,” Alex said. He liked Maggie Jameson, that was clear enough. At least the idiot caveman part of his brain did. But it had been a long time since he’d given the idiot caveman part voting rights on anything other than choice of beer or sports.
“Sometimes what we like isn’t good for us,” Ollie replied. He reached for another slice. “I like this pizza but you wouldn’t like my performance if I ate it every day. So I don’t.”
“I like a man who’s got his priorities straight,” Alex said.
Maggie was watching the two of them again, her dark eyes following them like a tennis spectator. “Ollie’s very dedicated,” she said. “He’s got a?—”
“Pretty sure Alex here knows my stats,” Ollie interrupted. “Don’t you, Alex?”
“Yup. Want to hear them?”
“I know them.”
“Want to hear mine?”
“Oh good grief,” Hana said. “There’s too much testosterone in this room as usual. Change of topic. I know. Shelly, how are the wedding plans coming along?”
Shelly wiped grease off her fingers and took a sip of beer before she answered. “Good, mostly.”
“When’s the wedding?” Alex asked. He should know when his team captain was getting married. But that hadn’t been in any of the briefing materials he’d been given so far.
“November,” Shelly said. “After the season.”
Hana gave a little eye roll. “As if there’s any other choice. Still, that means you’ve got nearly eleven months left.”
“Yep, but I want to get a lot of it settled before spring training,” Shelly said. “Once Hector gets his head in the game, getting him to make any wedding decisions will be like pulling teeth. Not to mention he’ll be in Florida and I’ll be stuck here in New York doing everything myself.”
“Wise woman,” Ollie said. “And heck, if you don’t like what he comes up with, you can change it during the season and he probably won’t remember by the time we’re done anyway.”
“I don’t think he cares that much. He wants somewhere warm, so we’re doing Hawaii.”
“Yay, vacation,” Hana said with a grin. “Let me guess, your colors will be blue, white, and yellow?”
Shelly waggled her beer. “Nope, won that argument. I’ve got a lifetime ahead of me to wear the Saints colors at every opportunity”—she slanted her big blue eyes at Alex—“at least, I hope I do. So at my wedding, I want my favorite colors. Don’t worry, Alex, there’ll be a lovely baseball-themed groom’s cake for the media to photograph. And I’ll come up with something cute for the favors. But I want pink roses and gardenias like my mom.”
“And have them you shall,” Maggie declared with a solemn expression. “Besides, Hector will do anything you ask, so it’s a nonissue.”
Alex lifted his eyebrows at Ollie at this. He’d met Hector Moreno this morning as well and the man was one big ball of Mexican-American testosterone. Loud. Competitive. Smart with it or he wouldn’t be team captain, but the kind of guy who liked to be in the lead. The sort of guy that Lucas’s family would approve of. The Angelos were big on ambition. And winning.
Ollie nodded at him. “Yep, it’s sad when the mighty fall.”
“You’re just jealous, Ollie Shields,” Hana said. “You wish you had a goddess like Shelly.”
“True,” Ollie said with a grin. “But she just won’t marry me. Besides, I’d look weird with pink roses and gardenias.”
“Plus you’d have to give up your fan club,” Maggie teased. “All those Shieldettes sobbing into their pillows every night. The whole city would flood.”
“There is that,” Ollie said, taking another slice. “So, really, me staying single is a matter of public safety.”
