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No One Like You
Barefoot William # 4
Barefoot William # 4
By: Kate Angell
Releasing April 28th, 2015
Zebra
No One Expects a Curveball
For Rylan Cates,
the gloriously sunny beachside town of Barefoot William may be home, but the
pro baseball player needs to focus on spring training. Hiring a personal
assistant to keep him and his four dogs organized for the next eight weeks is
the first step—and Beth Avery is the perfect pinch hitter.
Beth is still
looking for her place in the world, and a couple months caring for Rylan’s two
dachshunds, his golden retriever, and a Great Dane named Atlas should shore up
her finances before she moves on. Except it’s Atlas who won’t budge, pushing
her toward tanned, scruffy, sexy Rylan every chance he gets. One more strike
and she’s calling the dog out—unless she and Rylan admit that the attraction
they’re feeling is a game-winning grand slam…
Returning downstairs, he found Beth and his dogs in
the kitchen. It was the only room in the house that he’d renovated. His brother
Aidan had done the work. He was a contractor. They’d bumped up the room’s roof
to double height for a soaring ceiling. The tongue-and-groove boards resembled
nineteenth century planks. New oak beams acted as structural cross ties.
The large, all-white room was clad in bead board
cabinets with nickel hardware. The modern range had a white enamel finish and
vent hood. The apron-front sink had been a steal at an antique show. The center
island was topped with old chestnut boards salvaged from the floor in the
upstairs closet. Vintage red soda fountain stools surrounded the island where
Rylan enjoyed his morning coffee. Old subway tiles completed the countertops.
Clerestory windows flooded the kitchen with light.
Beth stood in a pool of sunshine. A red bandana
held her wild hair. Her movements caused her crop top to creep up her back,
flashing smooth skin and a narrow waist. She’d kicked off her sneakers and wore
a pair of short pink and yellow floral socks trimmed in turquoise.
He squinted to read the writing at her ankle. I Think I Can.
She caught him staring. “My positive message socks.
They’re similar to a mental mantra, but on my feet. Not as good as yoga, but
they keep me balanced.”
He believed in staying positive. Life could shift
and shake at unexpected moments. Stability was important to him.
Beth had located the organic cookbook and gathered
the ingredients: ground turkey, carrots, apples, and broccoli. Atlas barked at
her to move faster then nudged her thigh with his nose, making her laugh. Her
laughter was light, feminine. Contagious.
Ry couldn’t help but smile.
Beth handed Atlas a carrot, which he scarfed down.
The Dane liked his vegetables. All but peas. He had the ability to find a
single pea in his meal and spit it out. That had always amazed Rylan.
“How’s lunch coming along?” he asked, crossing to
her. Standing close, he felt the heat of her body. Despite having walked his
dogs, her scent was fresh and very female. “Need any help?”
“I’m feeling confident,” she said, stuffing the
food processor with the fruit and veggies. She secured the top and then flipped
the switch. The blades whirred and chopped. She went on to combine the ground
turkey with the mixture. Then blended in two raw eggs. She scooped the
ingredients into a rectangular baking pan and popped it in the preheated oven.
Atlas stood before the stove, not moving except for his tail wagging back and
forth.
Beth set the timer for twenty minutes before
turning back to Rylan. “You received five calls while you were in the shower.”
She tapped her finger on a white sheet of paper near the microwave. “I printed
out your messages, and also sent them to your iPhone.”
“Read them to me, please.” He was running late and
could listen far easier than if he took the time to read each one.
Beth relayed the messages. She spoke quickly,
precisely. He paid attention. The first two calls were from his family. His
older brother Dune invited him to stop by his volleyball clinic. Dune’s wife
Sophie offered to drop off groceries. No emergencies. He’d get back to them
later in the day. If not tomorrow. The third and fourth calls were from his
teammates.
“Halo Todd needs the name of a good tattoo artist.
He, uh”—Beth’s cheeks warmed—“wants to ink his groin.”
Ry rolled his eyes, but wasn’t surprised. Halo was
keeping to Rogue tradition. Players of previous years had such tats. The right
fielder would set the bar. His teammates would be inked before opening day. All
but Rylan. He didn’t always conform, either on or off the field. He believed in
live and let live as long as the players got the job done.
“Esme at Inkcredible Tattoos on Breakaway Wave
Drive does nice work.” Or so he’d heard from his brother Zane. Zane had Hurricane Hunter on his left bicep. He’d
felt no pain. However a tat to the groin could prove tender.
“Landon Kane wants to know where he can get the
best deal on tires,” Beth said, checking her list. “His Porsche has a flat.”
When had he become Google? Ry wondered. The third
baseman had an iPhone. Barefoot William had only one tire dealership. It was
easy to find. “Send him to Rubber and Rims.”
Beth looked at him to see if he was serious, then
chuckled. “You made that up.”
Lady was quick. “It will take Land a few hours to
figure that out.”
“What if he calls back?” Her concern was genuine.
He liked that—having an assistant who looked out for his teammates was crucial
to him. Even if the men drove him nuts sometimes.
“Tell him Gray’s Garage on the southeast corner of
Sunshine Drive carries tires at a good price.”
Beth wrapped up with, “Your last call was from Ava
Vonn.”
Ry’s grin came easy. He didn’t try to hide his
pleasure at hearing her name. She’d been one of the applicants for the PA
position; a hot blonde with full breasts who spoke her mind. She’d flirted with
him. Shamelessly. He’d been flattered but in the end, feared mixing business
and pleasure.
“Ava would like to meet for drinks and dinner,”
Beth told him, keeping her voice professional, though he noted a hint of
curiosity creeping into her rain cast eyes, “to compensate for her not getting
the job.”
Compensation worked for him. “Call Ava back and see
if she’s free tonight. Apologize for the short notice. If she’s available, make
a reservation for seven at The Pier House in Saunders Shores. The restaurant is
popular and often booked a month in advance. Tell the manager I’d appreciate a
table. He should be able to accommodate us. A view of the Gulf would be nice.”
“Got it,” Beth said.
“Then schedule an appointment at Theodore’s Barber
Shop for four, if possible. Shave and a haircut.”
“Will do.” She scrunched her nose. “Don’t get your
hair cut too short. You look good now.”
Her compliment surprised him. He took it to heart.
He eyed her, then suggested, “Shouldn’t you be writing this down? iPhone, or
there’s a pencil and notepad in the drawer by the dishwasher.”
She tapped her temple with her forefinger. “I have
an excellent memory.”
He could only hope she did. He didn’t take her for
the cerebral type, but he’d been wrong about women before. He wondered if there
was more to Beth than met the eye.
He didn’t have time to contemplate her secrets. The
timer on the stove went off, and Atlas did his dinner dance. He turned in a
circle. Once, then twice, and then stood there with his tongue hanging out.
There was no denying the dog his lunch. Now.
Beth grabbed a pot holder from the counter, then
removed the pan from the oven. Her mouth twisted as if she didn’t know what to
do next, and she glanced at Ry for guidance.
He reached beneath the sink and produced four dog
bowls in assorted sizes. “Dish up the food, but let it cool for a few minutes.
Atlas gets half the batch. Rue gets the next largest portion and the dachshunds
receive the smallest.”
He pointed to two elevated metal food stands by the
wall. Neat, perfect, and ready. “Atlas and Rue eat there; Oscar and Nathan by
the back door. You can set their bowls on the floor. Keep an eye on Atlas.
Don’t let him steal anyone’s meal. Rue nips him to back off. He overpowers the
dachs.”
Beth nodded and then proceeded to follow his
directions. She’d held her own during the meal prep. Rylan was pleased.
He stayed in the kitchen while the dogs ate. There
was one more thing left to do. He removed a white dish towel from a drawer and
tossed it to Beth to prepare her. “Atlas wears his lunch.”
The Dane went directly to her after he’d eaten. He
tried to wipe his mouth on her shorts once again. She intercepted him with the
drool towel—which he took as a toy. He grabbed it and started tugging. Tugging
hard.
“Is he always so playful after he eats?” she asked,
her voice breathy.
“Wait until you give him a bath,” he warned.
She pulled a face but didn’t let go of the towel.
“Don’t hurt your back,” Rylan said as she fought to
keep her footing. Her socks slid on the hardwood floor. She leaned over so far
he was afraid she’d fall. The back of her shirt fluttered, and he glimpsed her
lavender bra. Her shorts rode up her butt cheeks. She had a tight little ass.
He averted his gaze. “Give it up, Beth. Once you
release the towel, he’ll lose interest.”
The moment she let go, so did the Dane. “Good boy,
Atlas,” she praised, visibly relieved.
Ry pretended not to notice how exhausted she looked
after the tug of war. Her bandana had loosened and her hair sprang free. Wildly
so. Her face was flushed. The Dane outweighed her by at least forty pounds.
Words instead of force were her only way to control him. He hoped Atlas would
listen.
“Stand firm with him,” Ry said to Beth.
She looked at him dubiously.
“He’s smarter than he looks.”
“He has more expressions than a cartoon character.”
That he did. Ry glanced at his watch. It was almost
noon. He didn’t have time to fix himself lunch, so he grabbed a Marathon
protein bar from the cupboard. His meal on-the-go. “I’m leaving,” he told her,
ripping off the wrapper. He quickly went over his plans for the day, finishing
with, “Text if you need me. I’ll stop by the house later this afternoon to
change clothes for my date tonight. I’ll see you then.”
The dogs trailed him to the front door. He patted
each one then singled out Atlas. “Behave,” he said firmly. “Later, Beth,” he
called before he slipped out.
“Have a good day.” Her voice rose over the clatter
of metal dog bowls as she loaded them in the dishwasher. “We’ll be fine.” She
sounded competent.
Fine didn’t last long. He
wasn’t surprised to receive a text from her before he reached the end of the
block. Seemed there was a tiny war going on at his place.
Atlas is chewing on the leg of the
living room couch.
Then another text. Is he still
hungry? Should I feed him again?
And finally, he could almost see her frantically
typing on the keypad. Where are his toys?
In my opinion, Atlas stole the spotlight from Ry and Beth with his matchmaking skills. I love it when pets are an important part of the love story and his this book delivers. Ry and Beth's relationship progresses at a nice pace, starting with a friendship that evolves into love as the couple gets the know each other. The guys on Ry's team are great and I can see some of them having their own stories. Overall a light and fun read for an afternoon.
ARC via NetGalley
National bestselling author Kate
Angell lives in Naples, Florida. She’s an animal lover, avid reader, and sports
fan. Bookstores are her second home. She takes coffee breaks at Starbucks. Her
philosophy: Out of chaos comes calmness. Enjoy the peace. Please visit her on
Facebook or at www.kateangell.com.
Thank you for hosting NO ONE LIKE YOU! Have a wonderful weekend!
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