by Alexis Anne
On road trips I dug into her ex just so I'd have information on what I was dealing with. Between my agent, a few mutual friends, and some news articles I was able to piece together a snapshot of Beau Rowland. He was an excellent running back. He was focused and intense, he liked his money and knew how to party—all things I would never associate with Olivia. So it made sense that they divorced and went their separate ways.
What I didn’t understand—couldn’t without hearing it from her—was what she connected between Beau and me. I really hoped it was very little.
She cleared her throat. “I like it here, Chris. Beau hates it. Island life is the right life for me. Quiet, warm, small. I like that my kid knows everyone on his walk to school. I like that every business knows us. I can spend days at home in my studio working and it’s fine. But Beau likes the city. He needs the pace and the twenty-four hour services. He’s a night owl and I’m not. He loves restaurants and I love cooking food I grew in my own garden. We got to the point where I was crying in the bathroom before cocktail parties and having panic attacks because I didn’t want to be there. And Beau was dreading coming to the island. He told me once that his skin starts itching the moment he thinks about how quiet it is here.
“You scare me,” she whispered. It physically hurt to hear those words. “Your schedule, the things I feel when you kiss me...I never wanted to date another athlete.”
I went to her. Fuck space. Fuck hiding. I pulled her into my arms and sighed with relief when her arms went around me and she pressed her cheek to my chest. “Lots of people travel for work. And then they come home. I’ll always come home, Liv. This is my home.” I should have meant the island—and I did—but as the words left my mouth I knew they weren’t technically true. This specific slice of the island was my home now. This woman and the little boy in the next room.
It was everything I ever wanted.
I brushed my fingers through her hair and swayed a little to the jaunty music filtering in from Linc’s game. “I’ll prove it to you.”
She looked up at me and nodded. “Okay.” Then she rose up on her toes and pressed a fierce kiss to my lips. “I believe you. I do.” Then why were her eyes so sad? “But you’re about to go through something huge. I worry I’ll put my feelings from the past onto you, or that you’ll confuse the emotions of your playoffs with what’s happening between us.”
Valid concerns. I hated that they were valid. “So what do you propose?” I couldn’t bring myself to let her go.
But she pressed away from me and I refused to hold her against her will. She retreated a few steps away, hugging herself instead of letting me do the comforting. I had a feeling that was normal for her and I vowed to one day fix that. “I propose, as much as it sucks, to keep things as they are. Unless that’s a dealbreaker for you, which I totally understand.”
“It’s not what I want. I want to tell my teammates about us. I want to share all of this, all the excitement, with you.”
She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “Okay, how about this? Go talk to Linc. Ask him what he thinks about life with Beau. If afterward you feel confident telling him about the playoffs—the traveling and the uncertainty—and answering all his questions and concerns, then we can have this discussion and decide how to proceed.”
My mouth fell open. Mostly because the thought of disappointing Linc terrified me.
She smiled sadly at me. “I like you so much, Chris. I like you so much I can almost ignore the fact that you’re an incredibly famous athlete. But at the end of the day I’m a mom. I can do anything—even if it means waiting a few months to have what I want.” She took a deep breath and looked out at Linc. “I’m going to go look at the stars from the dock. Come find me when you’re done.”
I squeezed her hand and brushed a kiss against her cheek before she left. Then I watched as she moved into the yard, and then eventually down the dock. I was stuck in a trance. Her fierce maternal instincts put me to shame and I found that a protective mother was, in fact, an incredible turn on. I wanted her more than ever.
“Chris?”
I moved from the kitchen to the living room. “Yeah, bud?”
“Oh good, you’re still here.”
I sat beside him on the floor again, watching him play. “Do you miss your dad?”
“Oh sure.”
“Do you wish he were here more?”
“Pshaw. No. Dad hates it here. I like visiting him in Tampa.” He bounced up on his toes as Captain Jack Sparrow fought on screen.
“How often do you see him?”
“Ha. Take that!” He yelled at the TV. “I’ll see him in the spring and summer.”
That...was a long time from now. “Do you ever go to his games?”
Linc hopped and twirled, finishing his mission with a howl of delight, then set his controller aside and sat on the floor facing me. “Sure. Like one or two. I don’t like them too much. It makes me crazy. Plus we don’t really get to see him when we go. He works the whole time.” He shook his head back and forth. “I like talking to Dad on video. He calls me most nights and sometimes in the mornings.”
A video father. Linc’s indifference to his absence worried me. “Do you like traveling?”
“Uh yeah. On planes I get to drink soda and watch as many movies and play as many video games as I want. It...is awesome.”
I laughed because the way he said everything was funny. He was a funny kid. “What kind of soda?”
“Sprite.”
So the safest uncaffeinated kind. That sounded just like Liv. I was beginning to get a picture. One I think I liked. Not the absentee father part, but the rest. Linc didn’t like football games. Okay. That made sense. They were wild, loud, and filled with belligerent fans. Baseball was a little different. More relaxed. He might like it. Plus most of my season was played over summer when Linc and Liv could travel with me...something Linc just said he enjoyed. It wouldn’t just be me on the road leaving them behind at home. There were lots of families on the road and I wanted Linc and Olivia with me, if they’d have me.
“Do you know Trent?”
The question caught me off guard. “Uh, yes?”
“Can you help me set him up on a date with Mom?”
I think describing me as a cartoon character whose jaw had somehow fallen all the way to the floor and had to be picked up with his hands, would probably be pretty accurate right now.
Liv and Trent?
No. Absolutely not.
But I couldn’t say that to Linc. “Why would you want to do that?” I asked instead, like a proper adult.
He shrugged. “Mom’s alone all the time and Trent likes to fish, plus he lives down the street. They could fish together and not be alone anymore.”
So logical it hurt. “I think Trent might be a bit old for your mom.”
He frowned. “Well who else?”
I wanted to say me. I wanted to know why he didn’t think of me. I was young. I was here. “Are your only requirements that it be someone who likes to fish?”
“Well...yeah. And she should laugh. Laughing means you like someone. She laughs with you and you fish, but you leave all the time, so she’d still be lonely.”
And he didn’t need another man in his life to visit on video at night. The reality hit me like a train. If I told him right here, right now, I wanted to date his mom, he’d see me as Beau 2.0, not someone who made Liv happy. Not someone who’d be here for him. It wasn’t just Olivia I needed to show, it was Linc.
And it was something that only time could teach, unfortunately.
I ruffled his hair. “I’ll keep a lookout, okay?”
“Yeah fine.”
I left him to another round of Lego video games and joined Liv on the dock, our legs dangling in the water together. “I’m sorry I pushed.”
She bumped her shoulder into mine. “I don’t blame you. I don’t like waiting, either.”
I looked out at the horizon trying to find a way to explain this urgency I felt bu
ilding inside me. Like every minute we weren’t together raised the threat level in my body by a point until one day it would reach Red Alert.
“I got caught up in it all. This is my last true day off until we lose. Everything from this point forward is special.” I chanced a glance her way to take in her eyes, her lips. “And I wanted to share it with someone special.”
“Past tense? You no longer want to share it?”
I waited for her gaze to meet mine, for the electric shock to jolt through me like always. I savored it. Savored her. “No. I very much want to share it with you, but you’re right. We need to do this slow.”
“What did Linc say?”
“He asked me to fix you up with Trent.”
She burst out laughing. “What?”
“It’s true. Trent likes to fish and lives down the street so you won’t be lonely anymore.”
“Oh Chris.”
“You were right. We need to take this slower than I want to. And that’s okay. When we make this official, I want it to be with no doubts in your mind. I never want you to look back and have questions about us because we rushed or you felt pushed. And I want Linc to understand that just because I play baseball doesn’t mean I’m gone all the time. I’m here. And he’ll know it and believe it.”
We sat quietly together, our toes in the water, the moon rising high in the sky. “I really like you, Christopher Kaine.” She rested her head on my shoulder.
It felt incredibly nice, so I put my arm around her and rested my head on top of hers. “I really like you Olivia Saldana.”
“I only like Trent as a neighbor.”
That set me off laughing, and the more I tried to keep quiet, the harder my body shook. “Well that’s good because he’s my mentor and I’d really hate to have to fight him over you.”
She started laughing too. Then her hand was on my face guiding my lips to hers. We made out in the moonlight, the waves gently washing ashore beneath us, my tired body electrified by her warmth and touch. It energized me, made me crave things I couldn’t have...yet. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was enough.
11
I’m going to need to kiss you
Olivia
I told Chris he didn’t have to keep us a secret from his teammates. It wasn’t like they were going to come over and tell Linc or line up to sell our secrets to the island gossips. It was a peace offering and it was accepted like a delicate piece of glass: with awe and appreciation.
And lots of making out.
The playoffs were every bit as hectic and wild as I expected, but they were something else as well. My creativity came calling. It struck me suddenly and I went with it, capturing the guys in their native habitat: the field. It started with Chris laughing in the bullpen in the middle of game two. I walked Linc over to say hi but he had to stop and pee because he’s eight and seems to need to pee at every inopportune time. Luckily there was a bathroom just a few steps away. I brought my camera because being at a playoff game felt more important (as a photographer) than a cellphone camera. I only intended to grab a few shots to surprise him with later.
And then inspiration struck as he sat back with his arm over the chairs beside him. His leg was crossed over his knee at the ankle. He laughed and joked with the other pitchers and catchers. The light of the stadium hit him just right.
Snap.
I checked the shot and made an adjustment because it hadn’t quite caught what I saw in my mind. Snap. Snap. Snap. This wasn’t a picture of Chris—this was an award winning pitcher caught in a moment in time. He stood and demonstrated something to another pitcher. They both made a face. Snap.
“Mom. Mooooooooom. I’m ready.”
Snap. Snap. “Okay. Let’s say hi.” I was flushed. My heart pounded in my chest.
I felt alive again. Especially because as I looked around I saw more and more and more. I wanted to capture the way Seth laughed as he dumped sunflower seeds in his hand. The puff of clay as a runner clapped his hands together. The look of hope as they glanced up at the lights.
“Hey bud!” Chris called, stepping up to the fence to fist bump Linc.
His eyes immediately found mine and sharpened. “What’s got you so excited, Liv?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Talk to Linc.”
Snap. The way Chris leaned down to talk to Linc was now immortalized in my camera. I flipped back through my shots as Chris explained the bullpen and introduced him to some of Linc’s favorite players. The pitching coach, Rex Little, was Linc’s favorite because of course a coach was Linc’s favorite. He signed a ball and handed it to my son.
Chris did that sexy man quick nod thing that in a simple motion indicated immediate response. I hopped to his side. He leaned close and lowered his voice. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too. The game has been exciting so far.”
He grimaced a little and looked up at the scoreboard. “I’d feel better if we were up by more.” Then, without looking, he looped his fingers through the chain link fencing and snagged mine. “So what’s got you so excited.”
“You’ll have to let go of my hand if you want to find out.”
“I can wait a minute.” His eyes danced.
I let mine dance right back. “I’m leaving right after the game to get Linc home and to bed. His teacher said he can come in late since it’s a very special occasion.”
“Is he having fun?”
“The time of his life.”
“So what’s got you so excited?”
I reluctantly slipped my fingers away and turned the screen of my camera on. I double checked that it was as perfect as I remembered, then turned to show him the image of him sitting and laughing.
He blinked. “Shit. Liv, this is stunning.” He leaned closer. “I feel like a goddamned work of art.” He looked up at me with so much admiration it took my breath away.
“No one can make someone this ugly a work of art.” Ruiz sidled up next to Chris and threw his arm over his shoulder. “So is this her?”
“Kid. Three o’clock.” Chris elbowed him in the ribs. “And yes.”
“I figured based on the bruising.” He cursed and rubbed his ribs which I doubt hurt that much. “Nice to meet you, Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“Holy shit. Did you take that picture?” Ruiz leaned down just like Chris had.
Linc bounced back beside me. “My mom is a famous photographer.”
He flicked Linc a smile. “No kidding. This is really amazing, Olivia.” Then I clicked through the other images I shot just while standing here. Two ballplayers became seven, all of them whistling and drooling over my small unedited images.
I felt like a million bucks.
“I didn’t know you were dating a sports photographer,” Little whistled.
“I’m not...technically. I mean, I have shot sports before. Football in particular.” In college it was easy to make some of my projects sports projects, which incidentally got me on the field where my boyfriend/husband was playing. I also wound up doing some more in his first two professional seasons. But by that point it was about helping my husband out, not about creativity or art or anything like what I felt pulsing through my veins right now.
Ruiz pointed at my camera. “You coming to all the games? Because I’ll pay you for shots like that. I want to remember every minute of this for the rest of my life.”
The creative rust began to fall off. “How about this. I’ll work on getting press credentials and see where the creative juices flow.” It would take a few days and pulling some strings, but I could be on the field by the time they returned for the next series.
“Deal.” The guys all said at once.
And that’s how I wound up in a creative fervor. At night I was on the field, in the bullpen, the dugout. I was part of the action and a ghost all at once. I somehow felt part of it all, the documentarian, the record keeper—not of statistics or facts, but of emotions and personalities. My job as photographer was to r
ecord people as they were. It was something I’d always done, but this new twist was the breath of fresh air my artistry needed.
I could barely sleep I was so excited to get back to my computer each morning to edit the images from the night before. Relief and a sense of completion washed over me each time I edited an image to perfection, knowing the job was complete.
I had orders from every member of the team, the coaching staff, and corporate offices who wanted to use them for a combination of artwork and promotional materials. I finally had to tell everyone to wait until the playoffs were over. We could finalize photographs and artwork after all was said and done.
They swept their competitors and were the much more well rested team in the championships. Chris pitched a brilliant Game One that left everyone in awe. And me? I was so proud of him. I was grateful for my project because it kept me busy and distracted, otherwise I might feel the intensity of the playoffs, of Chris’s distractedness and distance. Instead I was there with him, feeling all the same stress, seeing it on the faces of every teammate. It was my job to capture, not dwell in my own doubts.
They lost game six, bringing the championship series back to Tampa to determine the winner with Chris back on the mound. Since I was working, Summer and Beau brought Linc to the game to “watch his best friend win the World Series!”
I had lunch with Chris. He was a ball of cool, calm, collected nerves. I knew this because he was quieter than normal, much more like that grumpy fisherman I pulled up alongside weeks ago.
“I just wanted to let you know Marine Patrol is nearby.”
He scowled at me, confused. Probably because we were at a nice restaurant in a quiet, dark alcove where we couldn’t be seen.
“You’re grumpy and distracted. It reminded me of the day we met.”
His gorgeous face broke into a breathtaking smile. “Met again,” he clarified. “I can’t wait to go fishing. I fucking miss it.”
“You’ll have all winter.”
He toyed with his silverware. “Speaking of winter, I think we should have a standing fishing date.”
