Out Of Her League Read Free

during the game she had somehow developed wings that stuck straight out from her temples, apparently eager to assist in an emergency landing. She glanced at the back of her head to see if maybe a rudder flap had appeared too. Nope— just a couple of sweaty, tangled ringlets at the nape of her neck. She showered and toweled off, then dressed in the clothes Teryl had left outside the door. She had no make-up with her but pulled her hair into a ponytail before heading down to the family room.
    The sight of Rayne's tall, broad-shouldered frame sitting there on the couch caused her heart to skip a beat, and she chided herself. Even if he were interested in dating her, she had a list of specific reasons why she didn't want a man in her life. One: she was too busy with work and her softball career. Two: Rayne had a reputation that would make Casanova seem like a choirboy. Three: no way did she ever want her heart broken again. She couldn't survive that kind of pain a second time.
    Keeping this firmly in mind, she chose a seat on the other side of the coffee table and tried to pretend his smile didn't make her insides do somersaults. She glanced down at the deck plans spread across the table. “So, when will you guys start?”
    “Next week, if I can get all the stuff together,” Drew said. She loved Drew dearly and was so glad Teryl had married him. He was funny, supportive, and most importantly, not afraid to stand up to Teryl's infamous temper. “Just think of all the flowers you can put in the planter boxes.”
    “Now you're talking. So long as you promise not to kill them, Teryl.”
    Teryl narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you should plant artificial ones, then.”
    “They've been telling me about the gardens at your place,” Rayne interjected, the lamplight highlighting the green and gold in his darkly lashed eyes. “I'd love to see the house sometime.”
    “Anytime,” she told him, intending friendly politeness rather than eagerness. “It might even remind you a little bit of Charleston,” she pronounced it “Chahlston", “so you'll feel right at home.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Are you making fun of my accent?”
    “Not at all. You know I love your accent. It reminds me of when I used to answer the phone in my stepfather's office. Michael's an American history professor, remember? He teaches mostly about the Civil War.”
    “You mean the war of northern aggression,” he corrected softly, lips curving.
    “Ah... okay.”
    “It's a very important distinction,” he assured her.
    She held up a hand in acknowledgement. “Duly noted.”
    Drew pushed to his feet and stretched. “Well, this has been a fascinating history lesson, but you said you're on early shift so I'd better take you home, Hutch.”
    “Sure.” Rayne rose from the couch.
    “I can take you home,” Christa blurted. The others gawked at her. “I'm heading home anyway, so I can drop you off on my way. If you're okay with it,” she added, hoping her face wasn't flaming.
    “That'd be great,” Rayne said.
    She faced Drew. “There's no sense in you going out when I can easily drive right past there.”
    “Hey, you don't have to talk me into it.” He regarded Rayne with an arched brow. “We can trust you to behave yourself with Christa, right?”
    Rayne winked at her, sending her pulse skyrocketing. “Maybe.”
    “Ha-ha,” Teryl said, sending him an arctic glare. “He wouldn't dare try anything because he knows I'd rip his legs off.”
    Christa laughed. “I love it when you get all protective of me. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
    “Damn right I'm protective of you.” Teryl had a habit of referring to Christa's ex as ‘The Shithead', which was true enough, but what would happen if she ever found another boyfriend? Teryl would scare him away before he'd had a chance.
    “You should never dare me, darlin',” Rayne murmured, eyes full of mischief.
    Christa's eyebrows shot upward. The idea of Rayne coming on to her was ludicrous.