More than the Game by Jenni Bara

7

@NYStarPost:@HotShotDemoda we got a name for your girl, @EdwardDCampbell, your daughter Elizabeth Campbell has a soft spot for the baseball boys, huh?

@CelebPeopleMag:@secstate how do you feel about your daughter and the infamous @HotShotDemoda hooking up?

@PoliticsUSAMag:this family values republican’s daughter is hooking up with playboy @HotShotDemoda… where’s the value in that @EdwardDCampbell ???

The door slammed shut, leaving most of the secretary of state’s staff outside with the media he’d brought with him. Marc stood in Beth’s family room with both of her parents glaring, surprisingly, not at him but at her.

“Golden doughnuts!” her father said, and by the tone Marc gathered it was a curse. “What were you thinking?”

“You said you were meeting us at church,” Little Miss Feisty yelled right back. She was hot when she got worked up, especially now—standing there looking all rumpled, her lips swollen from his kisses.

Focus.

“That was before you blew up on social media, sweetheart.” Even though he was calling her ‘sweetheart,’ the secretary’s tone suggested he wasn’t feeling a lot of love toward his youngest daughter.

“What?” Beth asked, her face white as snow.

“Your picture started floating around last night,” her father snapped as he flashed his phone at her.

Marc knew about the photos trending on social media. He’d seen them even before Austin had called asking about the ‘mystery woman’ on the beach hanging onto Marc. The photos looked a lot flirtier than reality: Marc running so close almost no space existed between them; her face snuggled against Marc’s ear; him carrying Beth over his shoulder. But social media did that. Marc had come over this morning to tell her about it, but had hesitated to bring it up after learning that it was a nightmare for her.

Beth shot him an accusatory glare.

Her father continued. “Last night it was ‘who is this girl,’ but this morning, someone realized you’re my daughter.” The tone of his voice indicated that at the moment, he wished she wasn’t.

Marc didn’t know they had identified her in the photos. He checked his pocket for his phone before remembering he’d left it charging in the car. Austin was probably blowing it up.

“And now the speculation about you two has taken on a life of its own.”

Marc was trying to keep up, but since his blood supply was only slowly moving back to his brain, he found it difficult to process. It was like he had suddenly lost forty IQ points. Beth was a Campbell. The Campbells were one of the wealthiest, most well-connected families in the country. Not to mention that Edward Campbell was the secretary of state.

Holy shit.

On top of that, Campbell was the person most likely to be the Republican vice-presidential candidate in this coming election. Everyone knew what going to country fairs meant.

No wonder she’d said he was the last thing she needed. Politicians like her father didn’t need scandal, and Marc’s life had been full of it lately. Now, between the pictures of them from last night and whatever the press got outside…

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“Fudge or fig, please; this is a cuss-free zone. You could also go with ‘snake in the grass’ or Edward’s favorite, ‘golden doughnuts,’” Beth’s mom whispered. She smiled at Marc; clearly years in politics had taught her never to let her feathers get ruffled. “Elizabeth is a real stickler about it. I’m Mary Campbell.” She held out her hand, smiling. It might have been the perfect blond bob or maybe the flattering skirt suit she was wearing, with big pearls around her neck, but something made him think she was too perfect to get upset.

“Marc Demoda,” he mumbled, watching the father and daughter as he shook the woman’s hand.

The secretary and Beth didn’t seem to have taken the same never let your feathers get ruffled course. He wanted to step in and shield Beth from her father, but he didn’t feel it was his place.

“We met two years ago when you won the World Series,” Mary said politely, as if they were making small talk at a cocktail party instead of her having walked up on Marc humping her daughter against a wall. The thought made him groan inwardly.

“I’m sorry about this; maybe I should say something to…”

Who should he say something to?

Damned if he knew.

“No. Edward’s people—Paul, particularly—are spinning the story as we speak. But you’ll probably want to call your publicist.” She said this as if it were no big deal. She’d already moved on to spin mode while he was still in oh my fucking God mode.

Beth’s father was the secretary of state.

Holy shit.

There was no way this could be a quiet thing like he’d wanted. Austin was going to kill him.

“What is it with you, baseball players, and political campaigns?” Beth’s father yelled, and her entire body suddenly seemed to shrink. “Do you need to embarrass me?”

“No.” But her voice was so quiet he barely heard.

Just when he thought his world couldn’t get any stranger, someone stomped down the stairs.

“What’s all the yelling? Do you people know it’s not even nine o’clock?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar but with his brain haze, Marc couldn’t place it.

“It would figure you’d be here, since Elizabeth’s showing the world how much she loves to sleep with idiots,” Secretary Campbell said, not even looking at the man.

Marc felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him when he saw Corey fucking Matthews standing in his boxers in Beth’s living room. Corey Matthews, the man currently in Marc’s spot in the Metros’ rotation. The guy who’d been nipping at his heels for years. The guy who, a year ago, got into one car while Marc got into the other and ruined his life.

“I’m the one who slept in her bed, and I assure you, Ed, I’m not an idiot,” Corey said, with no respect in his voice at all.

“Butt out,” Beth said, not looking glad to see him.

“Wow, someone’s got her panties in a knot. Did I not let you get enough sleep last night?” Corey wrapped his arm around Beth’s shoulder, which made Marc’s stomach curl with disgust. Beth had said she wasn’t in a place where she could date—she hadn’t mentioned this fucking guy.

“Sugary game yesterday.” The secretary smirked at Corey, who sighed like he’d heard it before—and considering his performance lately, he probably had. Marc had watched enough of Corey’s last few games to know two things: Corey had release point problems; and he didn’t know the root of his bad pitching or how to fix it. “Stay away from the windows. The media’s outside; I don’t need you on top of this mess. And I would prefer you to keep your sleeping arrangements with my daughter to yourself.”

“Little faith, Ed. I don’t want to expose my hideout. Where’s Mrs. C?” Corey turned to find her, and stopped in mid-spin. “Demoda,” he sneered before turning back to Beth. “I need coffee.”

“And I told you to butt out,” Beth said, but there was no fire behind the comment.

Corey’s face softened, then he reached out, looking at her with an expression that said a thousand things. But Marc didn’t know what they were. Beth shut her eyes, and Corey pulled her into his arms.

Secretary Campbell started to say something, but Corey cut him off.

“Back off,” he snapped, putting himself between Beth and her father. Marc felt a surprising stab of jealousy. He couldn’t understand why he wanted to be in the middle of whatever this mess was. Even more surprising was the fact that her father said nothing else. Marc wanted to know what the hell was going on, and he was about to ask when he got another punch to the gut.

“Uncle Corey!” Steve bounded out of the kitchen, straight into Corey’s arms.

Thiswas Uncle Corey? Marc had heard Steve say the name before; he should’ve realized it as soon as Corey had walked down the stairs, but it hadn’t clicked. His focus was on the fact that Corey had slept with Beth last night, so he’d missed the obvious.

She’d slept with Corey last night, then kissed him this morning while Corey was in her bed. What kind of woman does that?

“Hey, Slugger,” Corey said with Steve in one arm and Beth in the other, the picture of a perfect fucking family. It made Marc want to slam his fist through a wall.

“I knew you’d be here! I wanted to wait up last night, but Mom said I had to go to bed after they pulled you,” Steve said.

“Why don’t you take Uncle Corey into the playroom to see Mandy?” Beth said, taking a deep breath and signaling Corey to go with Steve. He nodded and let go of her, then headed into the playroom. Steve shut the door behind them.

There was more than sex going on between her and Corey. Watching the two of them, that was clear. And it pissed him off that she’d never mentioned it. He didn’t take other people’s women.

“I should go.” Marc turned to leave.

“Oh no you don’t,” Secretary Campbell demanded in a voice that made it sound like a law. “You’re staying. We’ll find a way to make this work for you.”

“Please, he doesn’t have to stay,” Beth huffed. All the sass had disappeared, and Marc stood looking at a sad, tired woman. One who had lost too many fights with the man standing next to her, a guy who pretended online to be a family man, but cared little about his daughter.

“Go upstairs and get dressed,” her father demanded, and Beth spun on her heel and bounded up the stairs. “Something conservative!” he yelled, shaking his head.

“She’s getting better,” Mrs. Campbell said, walking toward her husband.

“If she wasn’t so damn impulsive. She has the right to date, but I thought she was past this,” he grumbled, looking up the stairs. Then he turned to Marc. “How long have you been sleeping with my daughter?”

Marc narrowed his gaze. Beth had just told him they weren’t sleeping together. Did he listen to anything his own daughter said? Did he even care?

“And don’t bother giving me the whole you love her routine. You let me chew into her, and you had nothing to say about another man sleeping in her bed.”

“I’m not sleeping with her, but with all due respect, even if I were, it’s not anyone’s business but hers and mine.” He paused before begrudgingly adding, “And I suppose Corey’s.”

“Corey’s?” The secretary looked blankly at Marc. Did this man not understand the concept of another man’s woman? For fuck’s sake, he was a married man.

“If my girl was f—sleeping with someone else,” Marc stumbled, “I would want to know. But I don’t take other guys’ girls. If she had mentioned being involved with Corey, I would have backed off. Now that I know, I’m gone.”

“Oh no you’re not,” Corey said from the doorway. “You won’t do this to her again. She won’t be that girl, because she’s not that girl.”

“You don’t know—” Secretary Campbell began, but Corey cut him off again.

“I have a lot better idea than you do,” Corey snapped. “I know the entire story and not Twitter’s version.” Corey shook his phone before turning to glare at Marc. “Demoda, she told you plenty of times to back off. Instead, you flaunted her on Twitter. So man up. Go to church, come back here, smile for all the pictures at Mandy’s party. And Ed, don’t bother saying there won’t be coverage of your granddaughter’s party. You’ve been promising all twenty million of your followers pictures of it all week. I’ll stay out of the way. I’ve had years of practice.”

Years? He couldn’t have been dating Beth for years. Corey might be discreet about his love life, but Marc knew there were women. If he’d been with Beth for years, then he was cheating on her. And that pissed Marc off. But before he could speak, Corey continued.

“Demoda, you can’t handle more scandal right now. Nothing better than Mr. Screw Anything Female and the secretary of state’s daughter getting hot and heavy for the camera.” Corey ran a hand roughly through his hair and glared. “She deserves better, Demoda, even from you. But the fact of the matter is that you need to change your image, which is probably the whole reason you’re here. Right?”

Edward Campbell turned to Marc with a raised eyebrow, looking more hopeful than upset.

“Well, yes, I do, but—” He wanted to explain that he hadn’t even known who Beth was until about fifteen minutes ago, and he certainly had no intention of using her for anything, but a new voice cut him off.

“Okay, that’s settled.”

Marc turned to see a short, stocky guy putting away a cell phone and looking pleased with himself. What the—who is this guy, and when did he get here?

Before he could ask, the man said, “You were right, Corey. It looks like Elizabeth will help Mr. Demoda with his image problem. We’ll have to work out something with the reporters outside, but it shouldn’t be too hard. We have all their cameras and cell phones already. We’ll let them have family shots this afternoon and answer some questions.” He was talking too fast for Marc to get a word in. “We’ll get our story out. We’ll need a lot of confidentiality agreements. We can work out the paperwork for—”

“Who the hell are you?” Marc finally blurted.

“Paul,” he said, like that explained everything. “You two will be in an exclusive relationship as far as the public’s concerned. What goes on behind closed doors—well, none of that should reach the media. Two months should give the public enough time to have forgotten when the relationship started. If Secretary Campbell gets the VP nod, we can always reevaluate.” Paul’s eyes cut back to Beth’s dad. “And having an in with the Latino vote would put you over the top.”

This tool had to be fucking kidding. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Welcome to politics, Demoda,” Corey said smugly. “You’re now a commodity. Make sure that what you provide is worth more than what you cost.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Beth’s dad turned to him with a fake smile. “Marc, I’m sure this arrangement will meet both our needs.”

Marc wasn’t sure what he was more surprised by: that no one cared what Beth thought about pretending to date him, or that Corey didn’t seem bothered by the idea. Marc was dead sure that he wouldn’t have the nerve to speak for any woman in his life without asking her opinion, nor did he have any delusion that if he were dating someone, there would be a third fucking person in the relationship.

“What makes you think Beth would agree to any of this?” Marc demanded. He could give two fucks about Corey, but he cared about whether Beth was okay with what these idiots had come up with. He could see the value in it for himself, but he couldn’t imagine why Beth would do it.

“Elizabeth won’t have a choice,” Secretary Campbell answered, not making Marc feel any better about their plan.

“You and I need to talk, Demoda,” Corey said, heading for the stairs as if he expected Marc to follow. “I also need pants, and I’ll loan you a shirt for church.”

Finally, they could have it out. But Corey said nothing as they walked up the stairs. He knocked on a closed door and whispered, “Beth?”

“You better be getting your pants,” she answered.

Corey opened the door and motioned for Marc to follow. Marc got three steps into the room before he stopped short. Beth had her back to the door, and was wearing two off-white thigh highs while she flipped through her closet. The scrap of cream-colored lace that was supposed to be panties didn’t nearly cover her perfect heart-shaped ass. The lace rested nicely along the tops of both cheeks, contrasting with her pale skin. He’d always been a lingerie guy; nothing was hotter than a great body in a few pieces of lace. And Beth was just that, but she didn’t know he was there. He should leave, but his feet seemed bolted to the floor, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman standing across the room.

“Which dress—green or blue?” Beth asked.

“Pissed, huh?” Corey replied, barely looking at Beth before grabbing his pants off the top of her dresser and sliding his legs into them. He didn’t bother to mention that Marc was in the room.

“You know I’m pissed. It would have been nice if my father had called,” Beth snapped, but she didn’t turn around. “Which dress?”

“Green.” Corey grabbed his watch off the nightstand and clipped it on. “So turns out I’m not the one trending this morning, huh?”

“Don’t make me invoke the counter rule,” she replied.

Beth stretched up on her toes, her leg muscles tightening as she reached for a dress hanging on the top bar of her closet. He swallowed his groan seeing a sexy little mole on her left cheek. Not only did she have beautiful legs and a perfect ass, but the curve of her back was sexy, and he loved how her neck looked when her hair was up. Right now it was in a French twist, which was supposed to be classy. But dressed like she currently was, it was more erotic. All he could think about was pulling the pins out and letting her shake all that hair loose, preferably while she straddled him, back arched, head thrown back—

Stop it. She’s Corey’s.

But he couldn’t figure out why Corey would invite him up here. Marc’s life hadn’t included a girlfriend since early college, but he still knew he damn sure wouldn’t parade his girl around in her panties for another guy.

“Want to tell me what happened this morning, or do you want me blindly on your side?” Corey asked, now scrolling through his phone.

“Blindly supporting me is good,” Beth said, finally pulling the dress down. Then she spun around.

Two minutes ago, Marc would have said the view couldn’t get any better, but seeing Beth from the front, he knew that would have been wrong. His gaze took in the lacy bra holding two round breasts and trailed to the V of her thighs before heading back up again.

“Cor!” Beth shrieked, pulling the dress in front of her and heading to the bathroom. “You snake in the grass!”

“What?” Corey said innocently, but he smiled. “Come out when you’ve got the dress on and I’ll zip you.”

“You’re ridiculous. I swear, sometimes I hate you,” Beth called from the bathroom. Corey continued to laugh silently.

“When Paul asks what color, make sure you tell him cream,” Corey said.

“Paul?” Marc asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat down on the bed. This morning sucked. If someone had asked him last night if getting his hands on Beth’s breast and seeing her in lingerie would qualify as sucky, he would have laughed at them. But last night, he would have assumed that if those two things were going to happen, he would be fucking her, not sitting on her bed with her boyfriend.

“The guy who works for her father,” Corey replied. “When she walks into the room, he’s going to be looking at her like he can see through her clothes, and then he’ll ask what color.”

“You tell him what she’s wearing under her dress?” Marc hissed. Why should some random douche know anything about Beth’s panties? He’d always thought of Corey as a sensitive guy, but it turned out he was one shitty boyfriend. Corey should punch that fucker in the nose, not tell him about his girlfriend’s panties.

“Corey, what did you want to talk to me about?” Marc sighed.

“Nothing. I just wanted you to see what she was wearing under her dress.” Corey chuckled. Marc would have lost his shit right there, except Beth came back into the room.

“Corey, you’re not funny. Now zip,” Beth demanded as she turned to open the armoire. Marc got another small peek at that great back while she reached for what looked like pearl earrings. Corey zipped her dress and then pulled out her pearls, stringing them around her neck. They moved in sync, as if they’d done this before.

But something was missing between the two of them. When they spoke, it was like a brother and sister bickering. But Marc had a sister too, and he didn’t come into the room and help her dress, that was for sure.

“It’s not like he hasn’t seen more than that,” Corey said, and Beth spun on him.

“Why doesn’t anyone believe that I’m not sleeping with him!” she all but shouted at Corey, who simply raised his eyebrows. And then she said quietly, “Oh, of course.”

What were they talking about? He wondered if everyone in this damn house spoke in code to annoy him or if that was just a side benefit.

“I’m going down to see if I can charm the pants off that redhead on your father’s staff while you guys are at church, so change the sheets this afternoon.” Corey laughed as he left the room, and Beth rolled her eyes again. What the hell did she see in him?

A loaded silence filled the air as Beth slipped on her shoes, carefully not looking at him. She straightened to a stand and fiddled with a ring on her thumb. Half of him felt like throttling her, and half of him wanted to just unzip the damn dress and get her onto the bed. He vaguely remembered feeling this way last night, too. The woman was maddening. And even after all he had learned in the previous half-hour, she still twisted his gut.

“Did you know about the beach pictures?” Beth asked, unable to meet his eye.

Shit.

“Yes, but I didn’t plan on leaving without talking to you about it.”

She frowned.

“So, the low-profile casual fling talk was… what?” Beth asked, finally looking up to glare at him.

Marc sighed before running his hands through his hair in frustration. He should have mentioned the photos then, but he had been trying to talk her into seeing him again, and that information was the opposite of helpful. He hadn’t been lying; he knew he’d have to be more careful, and he was willing to be. But none of it mattered now—because she was dating Corey fucking Matthews.

“What I want and what I can have don’t always line up. But at least I was honest—unlike you,” Marc accused.

Beth sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who my father was. I thought you might like the idea of dating a Campbell or the secretary’s daughter. You know—attention.”

That wasn’t why he was mad. Especially after seeing how the ‘family man’ treated his daughter. He was familiar with the idea of a parent who presented a nice-guy image to the world, which didn’t match what dear old dad was like at home. She had not, however, apologized for not telling him about Corey.

“That’s not my issue,” Marc said, staring hard.

“Huh?” Beth’s confused eyes met his own.

“Were you not planning on telling me about you and Corey?”

And then she had the nerve to laugh.

“Listen, I know you don’t know me from Adam, but I don’t make it a habit to kiss another man’s woman, so I’m feeling like a… a… nothing I can say in this house,” Marc said, stopping himself from cursing.

“Marc,” Beth said, holding her hands up. “Corey and I aren’t dating.”

If she was about to give him some line about fuck-buddies or something, he’d call her a liar.

“He slept in your bed. Don’t tell me you two aren’t something.”

Beth moved to the bed, sitting next to him. “Corey is family, but we aren’t together. I slept with Mandy last night, and Corey slept here. Normally when Corey stays, he sleeps in one of the guest beds, but my nephews and niece were here.”

“You let him in the room when you were wearing…” Marc trailed off, becoming tongue-tied in thoughts of what she had on under the dress. That image was burned into his mind: Beth stretched up on her toes, leg muscles tight, her back arch, a sexy little mole on her ass. There was something familiar about that mole, but he couldn’t figure it out. He would have remembered if he seen Beth naked before.

Beth was talking again, and he shook his head to clear it.

“Corey and I dated for a while; he believes he can take liberties because of that. I’ve tried to stop him, but he doesn’t care what I think and really hardly looks at me, so I ignore it.” Beth chuckled.

However, Marc found it very unfunny—what’s more, it was something he would need to put a stop to. But it made sense. Corey showed no possessiveness toward Beth, and he happily flaunted her. But it was a ‘look what I’ve got that you want’ flaunt—something Marc had done to Corey plenty of times from the top spot in the Metros’ rotation.

“So, Corey has nothing to do with why you keep insisting you’re not interested?” Marc asked. “It’s just your father?”

“Pretty much.” She moved on quickly, leading Mark to believe there was more to it. “The thing is, no one knows that Corey and I are friends, or that he’s here. We want it to stay that way,” Beth pleaded.

Marc nodded in agreement. “You and Corey dated as teenagers? Steve’s eight… you’re twenty-eight, twenty-nine?”

“Yes. Our fathers knew each other, so we grew up together. I was sixteen when we started dating.”

“I’m surprised your father let you two date after what happened with that gymnast Corey was dating,” Marc said, looking at Beth. Her gaze fell to the floor. “Have you heard about those pictures of him having sex with his girlfriend—what was her name?”

“Elizabeth Campbell,” Beth added helpfully, but didn’t look at him.

And Marc got his fifth gut punch of the morning. He now knew where he had seen the mole before.