Excerpt of Holiday Home Run by Priscilla Oliveras

"He's here! He's, like, in the building!!!"

Julia Fernández winced at the squeal of hysteria punctuating her young intern’s announcement as Carol raced into the conference room. The college coed patted her blond hair, then ran a jittery hand down her wool skirt.

"How do I look?" Carol stage-whispered. 

Julia pushed back her rolling chair, rising to stand by the long conference table. "You look fine. What's the big deal?"

"What's the big . . . ? Um, it's Ben Thomas." 

If Carol's bug-eyed expression didn't scream "What's wrong with you?" her outstretched hands certainly did. "Chicago's most eligible bachelor? Like, the best baseball player who's ever lived?"

"Bueno, I'd have to counter that last statement," Julia answered, holding up a hand to stall the girl's rant. "But no matter what, I'll tell you this—”

She broke off as Laura Taylor and several others came into view through the glass conference room walls. Standing a full head taller than everyone else was Ben Thomas.

Even though he was dressed in a navy, ribbed turtleneck sweater to ward off the mid November chill, rather than a baseball uniform and cap, she immediately recognized his square jaw, straight nose, and piercing blue eyes. 

Not because she was a groupie. Por favor, no. 

More so because her youngest brother Martín had the guy's rookie season baseball card stuck on the wall over his bed. Martín's main goal in life was to pitch as well as Ben did. Or rather, as well as Ben had before injuries took him out of the game way too soon.

However, pitching phenom or not, to her, Ben Thomas was simply the emcee of the Holiday Soiree that could be her ticket off the Island and a huge help to setting her on her way to starting her own independent life. Nothing more. 

Admittedly he was definitely a papi chulo, as her cousin Lilí liked to say when describing a hot guy. But Julia wasn't in the market for a guy. Not right now anyway. 

"Tell me what?" Carol prodded. 

Straightening her shoulders, Julia looked her new friend in the eye, hoping to calm Carol's nerves. "Remember this, famous pitcher or not, Benjamin Thomas puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us."

Carol's brows dipped together in a deep frown that matched her perplexed, "Huh?"

Julia laughed, the sound louder than she intended. It drew the attention of Laura Taylor, the five other committee members, and Ben Thomas as they entered the room.

Ben's gaze caught Julia's. A twinkle shone in the blue depths of his eyes, a sexy grin tugging up the corners of his full mouth.

She sucked in a quick breath, cutting off her laugh.

Ay Dios mío, that grin, in person, was far more enticing than when seen on the television screen or in the sports section of the newspaper.

As the other committee members found their seats, Ben strode forward to drape a light jacket over the back of a chair. Dark jeans hugged his strong legs. A pair of brown lace-up leather boots and the light scruff dusting his cheeks gave him a rugged look he wore far too well. 

Laura began the introductions with Carol, who had remained near the door, her awe obvious in her stuttered greeting. The poor girl's cheeks flamed as she stumbled over her own name.

"Pleased to meet you," Ben said, inadvertently worsening the fan-worshipping Carol seemed unable to control. 

"S-same to you," she murmured around the hint of a giggle.

"Carol's a student at DePaul," Laura said. "She's interning with us for the semester and is a marvelous addition to our team." 

Julia admired how Laura, half of one of Chicago's most respected power couples, managed to maintain a regal, unflappable manner while making everyone around her feel comfortable and welcome. In the short amount of time Julia had been working with her, Laura had become a true mentor.

Laura gestured toward her. "Ben, I'd like you to meet Julia Fernández, the brains and creativity behind this year's theme for the Humboldt Park Youth Center." 

"Well, it's more of a group effort. That old sports cliché 'There's no I in team' comes to play here." Julia stepped to her right as she spoke, meeting Ben and Laura at the head of the conference table.

Someone else in the room chimed in to agree with Laura, adding their praise for Julia's entertainment idea, but Ben's large hand engulfed hers in a firm handshake and whatever else was being said faded. 

A rough callous on his palm rubbed against her soft skin. The smile in his eyes turned the icy blue to a warm winter sky, the kind of blustery Chicago morning Lilí complained about but Julia actually enjoyed.

"I've heard rave reviews about your thoughts for the soiree," Ben said, a teasing note in his deep voice. 

If he'd been clean shaven, she might have seen the sexy dimple in his left cheek. The one female fans, and some male ones, too, sighed over. With the light scruff he now sported, the dimple was hidden from her view, though she found herself checking for it. Not that she was attracted by his sexy, rolled-out-of-bed appeal.  

"I'm looking forward to working with you," Ben added.

"Likewise," Julia answered. 

She took a deep breath, willing the picaflores flapping their little hummingbird wings in her belly to calm. Unfortunately, her deep breath brought her senses in close and personal contact with the hint of his woodsy cologne, its spicy undertones heightening her awareness of him. 

All of a sudden she found herself needing to repeat the reminder she had shared with Carol earlier. This time, for her own good.

Ben Thomas was just like every other guy. No need to go all boba over him. She didn’t do boy crazy. Ever. 

It was simply a matter of remembering: Pants. One leg at a time.