Stealing Home (Callahan Family Book 2)

by Carrie Aarons

  34

  Walker

  It takes Hannah two full days to actually talk to me.

  In that time, I help her uncle and his sons clear some of the coffee fields. They teach me about harvesting, and I get to experience some of the best tastes and smells I’ll ever get in my life.

  Hawaii is absolutely beautiful, and when they’re having their family dinners around the picnic tables on the ranch each night, I go exploring. I don’t want to intrude on Hannah’s time with her family and end up eating at a lot of the local eateries her uncle tells me about. One night I eat fresh monkfish by the ocean, another I enjoy a Mexican meal that I swear came from South America itself.

  I realize, as I sip a mojito at a roadside stand one afternoon, that this trip isn’t about just coming to win Hannah back. I needed it more than I ever realized. It’s been years since I’ve done something exclusively for me. And even though Dad blew a gasket when I took off and put in my notice that I wasn’t playing in the All-Star game, this was so worth it.

  There are five more days until the break ends for those players who weren’t selected to play in that game, and I am worrying only a tiny bit. If I don’t make it back, then I don’t make it back. My father will come down on me, but I meant what I said to Hannah. I’m not going anywhere.

  Up until this point, I’ve been staying in a luxury hotel in town. But Hannah’s aunt Kileen, and her mother, secretly offered me the keys to their little beach shack just down the path of their property. It isn’t five stars, and it doesn’t come with anything other than a flattened mattress on a rusty frame and a running sink. But it’s authentic. I can hear the sound of the ocean at night and see the stars from the little screened-in porch. Plus, it keeps me close to Hannah, and I want her to know that I’ll stay for as long as she needs until she can either scream at me, or kiss me. I’m hoping it’s the latter, but a guy can dream.

  Her mom has already warmed to me, I guess Dahlia had something to do with that. Kileen is the more talkative of the two elder sisters. She kind of reminds me of Dahlia in that way. But Hannah is all her mother, Joan. Quiet, thoughtful, and delicate, Hannah’s mother reminds me of why her own daughter is such a rare person. We’ve connected over the days I’ve been here, and I like to think she’s rooting for me.

  When I walk out in the early morning, my body and mind feeling clearer than they have in months despite still not being made up with Hannah, I spot her petite frame walking through the rows of coffee bean plants.

  Those midnight curls are swirling around her tanned, high cheekbones. I know, from days of studying her, that there is a bridge of tiny freckles over her nose. Her eyes are bluer than the ocean just outside this hut, and she looks refreshed. Her bones move with an easier grace, there seems to be a weight lifted from her shoulders. She looks like an angel, walking down the beach path, and I know from the past two mornings that she’s going for a walk out on the shores.

  If we could stay in this bubble forever, with her accepting my apology, I’d give that to her. Anything to make her happy.

  “You belong here,” I say, leaning against a railing on the porch.

  She jumps, unaware possibly that I’ve been staying here, but definitely unaware that anyone was watching her.

  “I’m going to kill my family members,” she grumbles, standing awkwardly right outside the small dwelling.

  I shrug. “Don’t take it out on them. I’m just charming, remember?”

  I’m pretty sure that ego and confidence will get me nowhere, but it’s a tactic I haven’t tried, so it’s worth a shot.

  “When are you going to just leave?” She blows out an exasperated breath.

  “I’m not. I’m never going anywhere, Hannah. I love you.”

  “I wish you’d stop saying that.” Her voice breaks, and she wraps her arms around herself.

  “It’s true. I should have told you a long time ago. I should have stolen your heart, rescued you from him. I hate that I was such a coward, both then and the night of Sinclair’s accident. But I’m not shying away, not ever.”

  “Don’t you have games? You’re just going to, what? Miss the entire season. You’re a Callahan, duty and all that is calling.” Hannah’s voice is the most condescending I’ve ever heard it be.

  It strikes me that I’ve hurt her far worse than I, and maybe even she, anticipated.

  I shrug. “Yes, but you are more important.”

  “Just like that? Just on a dime, I’ve suddenly become the most important thing?”

  I move toward her, cautiously stepping off the porch, but Hannah doesn’t back away. So much of me wishes I could take her mouth, just stop all this talking in circles and show her exactly what I feel. But I know that would get me nowhere. Instead, I lightly ghost my hands around her waist, and my body lights up at the contact I’ve missed for so long.

  “I will never be him. I will never hurt you, not again. I will put you, and those precious girls, before anything. Baseball, the Callahan name, my own well-being. It only took one stupid, reality-slamming second for me to realize that I was living a lie for three months. There is no world for me if you’re not in it. I was walking around in denial, a shell of a man. I couldn’t wait one second longer to tell you that, to try to convince you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Hannah won’t look at me, and then I see it. A single tear, sparkling in the morning rays as it slides down her cheek.

  “I’m scared. I’m scared to love you as much as I already do. My love life has been a series of nightmares. How do I know they’re not over? You hurt me, Walker. So badly. When you left, I feel like my world went dark. You have the power to destroy me, way worse than he ever did.”

  Her voice sounds so small. I lean in, pressing my forehead to the side of her temple as she tries to turn away from me. I breathe her natural scent, and she smells like the coffee plants and vanilla. My hands hold her waist tighter, pulling her into me until we’re practically chest to chest.

  “You have so much more power, Hannah. You’ve been standing on your own for far longer than you know. I’m in awe of you every second. Don’t need me, don’t rely on me. I’ll do both of those for you. I’ll be the one who loves you more, who has more to lose. I’d be honored. Please, just be with me.”

  Finally, finally, she turns her chin so that our noses rub together.

  “How could I not need you? How could I not love you? I’m so blinded by it, I can barely think when you’re around.”

  Then we’re not talking at all. Our mouths act of their own accord, meeting spectacularly in the middle. And we express every pent-up emotion, every ounce of love we possess, using our bodies.

  35

  Hannah

  Walker picks me up, carrying me into the tiny beach cottage that’s existed on the outskirts of my family property for generations.

  Our hands and mouths are everywhere, never stopping to even let half a breath in. The heat between us is blistering, and I can’t strip down or strip him down fast enough. With every undressing, there is a sighed I love you. With every touch in a new place, there is a groaned I missed you.

  When our bodies finally fit together and I moan on a sigh, the feeling is so perfect.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says.

  “I love you,” I respond.

  Walker moves over me, slow and steady but with so much careful caressing. We stare into each other’s eyes; the connection going soul, skin, and psyche deep. He makes love to me, in a way I never even knew was possible. This isn’t sex, it’s something else. It’s talking and breathing and communicating without making one single sound.

  We’re so close together, our faces inches apart as well as every other limb, and his palms are pressed to my cheeks as mine are to his. We orgasm together, falling over the cliff in pants and desperate sighs in tandem.

  After that, we lull in a half-daze, listening to the sounds of the ocean as the world awakens. Quiet falls over the tiny hut, with the bed right there
in the middle of the only room. Walker’s hands move up and down my back in gentle circles, and I trace the lines of his abs with a fingertip.

  “I love you,” he whispers, breaking the silence.

  And then, we talk. We talk about everything that has happened the last three months. About his brother and the recovery, about my divorce and where Shane is. About how the girls are doing and my going back to school. About our fears and what I’m afraid of falling into again.

  “When Sinclair was in the coma, it felt like my world was ending. I was back in that hospital room with you all over again, and there was nothing I could do to protect another person I love. It just … it shook me to my core. I kept thinking how the hell am I ever going to cope if this happens to Hannah again? Or Noelle or Breanna? My system went into self-preservation mode, instead of manning up and having the courage to face those fears. I’m ashamed of that, but it was paralyzing, the doubt and worry. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that, even before that, you were hurt so badly and I didn’t step in. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve wasted so much time when it comes to us.”

  I run my hands over his buzz cut, down his sideburns and to the scruff dotting his cheeks and jaws. Walker’s eyes flutter closed and then open.

  When I speak, his fingers linger over my lips, seeming to trace my words. “There are days when the weight of all that gets to me, too. Where I feel like I can’t breathe because of all the time I spent under Shane’s abuse. I went years enduring that, being too weak-willed to stand up for myself and make a change. The girls spent so many years in a broken home. And when it comes to us, I always felt the spark. I was embarrassed of that, feeling something for a man who wasn’t my husband. That dinner, in Charlotte, I think about it a lot. What if I had just gone for it? What if we hadn’t wasted all this time? But we can’t live like that. We chose our paths, and in the end, they led us here. We’re both wiser, know what we deserve, and can fall in love with eyes open. And I do, Walker. I love you so much. I’m done trying to fight that, or let fear get the best of me. I’m not spending any more breaths on things that go bump in the night. My choice is the light. My choice is you.”

  “Marry me.”

  Walker buries a hand in my hair, and his words wash over me.

  “Wait, what?” I sit up, our naked bodies tangled up in each other in the warm comfort of this bed.

  “I want to marry you. I want you to marry me. Be my wife, spend the rest of your life with me.” He’s dead serious, and I feel like I’ve just brought a giant to its knees.

  This man, this caring, charming, devastating, determined man is offering his heart up to me.

  “This is crazy. Insane. We’ve barely been together. Heck, we only made up, what? An hour ago? I’m not even technically divorced!”

  Hysteria should be taking control in my brain, but my heart rate doesn’t increase, there are no sweaty palms. There is only calm. It’s just my own words that are demonstrating a freak out. Which is how I know … I’m about to say yes to spending the rest of my life with the man who rescued me from the dark.

  “I don’t care. I’ve waited too many years, watched you with yearning too many times, to not make it known here and now; I love you, Hannah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you the instant I’m allowed to, and I want to keep loving you until we’re old and gray. I’ve spent a long time doing it from a distance, wishing my life was in a different place. I don’t want to waste any more time. Be with me, Hannah. Let me love you the way you truly deserve. I promise, my number one goal from here on out will be to put a smile on your face every day.”

  I’ve spent a very long time keeping silent and running from strength. Of letting someone else control my decisions and steal my happiness. Marrying Walker would seem like a jump from one man to another, of not being strong enough to walk through life alone. But it’s the exact opposite. I choose Walker. I choose love. That’s the bravest decision I could ever make, considering how I’ve been burned. To let my heart love again, while also being able to stand on my own two feet? That is courage.

  “Okay,” I whisper. “Yes.”

  He closes the space between us, the kiss so gentle and almost disbelieving. My tongue melts into his, and in seconds, he’s hard against my thigh. I’m pressing into him, our bodies moving like the ocean waves crashing into each other just down the path.

  But I break off, knowing I need to say one more thing. “With one exception.”

  “Anything.” Walker blinks those blue eyes at me.

  “The girls, they have to be number one, too. It’s not just me in this, Walker. They’ve been through so much in their short lives, and they deserve every happiness. We’ll take this as slowly as they’re comfortable with. Because you will be their father figure. That might be scary to you, but well, I mean it to be, I guess. They are my world. They’ll have to be yours, too.”

  He takes my hands in his, gripping our palms together. “I know that, and they will be. Their happiness will be right on par with yours when it comes to priorities. They deserve so much, and I can’t wait to give it to them. I can’t wait to watch them grow, for them to yell at me about being embarrassing and come to me when a stupid boy, or girl, first breaks their heart. I would never assume that they didn’t come with this, full stop. I love you, but I also love them. Not because I want to be with you, but because they’re precious all on their own.”

  I feel the tears leaking down my cheeks and taste them as our mouths meet.

  Then I spend the rest of the dawn hours making love to the man who I’m going to love for the rest of my life.

  36

  Hannah

  A month after we get back from Hawaii, I walk into the Pistons’ family suite for the first time in almost eight months.

  It feels strange, returning to the scene of the crime. When I parked in the stadium lot, so close to where my car had been the night that Shane sent me to the hospital, it feels … surreal.

  I’m so far removed from the weak, sobbing woman who was crouched on the ground, trying to avoid blows. My children are more well-adjusted now than they ever were in a two-parent household. I told myself for so long that I had to stay and make it work with him, because he was my husband. Now that I’m sitting back in this spot, I can feel nothing but deep relief that I left.

  It feels like I’m exorcising the last demon. I’m coming here today in such a better place emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I’m coming here not only as a guest of the team, and as Colleen’s friend, but as Walker’s fiancée.

  At first, even though I have no ring on my finger yet, I’m afraid that people will judge me. We haven’t exactly gone public with the engagement, seeing as I’m not even divorced yet, but I know some of the WAGs have heard it through the grapevine. I hope no one says anything or makes some kind of comment.

  The girls don’t know yet that Walker will be a permanent fixture in their lives, though they’re over the moon that he’s back. Possibly because he brought more Frozen presents to the condo when we got back to Packton. I told him he can’t always buy their love, but for now, Noelle seems to be loving that perk.

  Over time, we’ll explain to them what’s going to change. That soon, we’ll find a place together. That someday, hopefully, Walker will adopt them. There are still so many details to iron out, but we’re definitively together, and that’s what matters.

  The girls still don’t quite understand what has happened to their father. That he’ll no longer be a part of their lives. The guilt I thought that would come with taking away his custody never has. My daughters are so much better off without the man who created half of them. In time, they’ll learn that.

  I was anxious, coming back to the stadium. I’d alienated almost all of the wives or family members by the time Shane was arrested. When you’re trying to hide pain and abuse, you shut off the rest of the world. A bunch of the wives would check on me, at the beginning when I began closing myself off. But after a while, that died out. I u
nderstood; they had lives and children to attend to. They couldn’t be pestering me all the time if I never even gave them a response.

  But the moment I walk in, I’m pleasantly surprised. Amanda, one of the pitchers’ wives, comes straight up to me and embraces me in a long hug.

  “You’re so strong. We’re in awe of you,” she tells me, then gives me a big smile and bends to ask the girls if they want to play with her kids.

  Noelle and Breanna happily skip off, their memories of this place always great. Plus, there is an all-you-can-eat candy buffet, so this is practically their Disney World.

  Another one of the longtime girlfriends, Becca, makes her way to me.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come today. We were all so worried about you after the …”

  She doesn’t know which word to use, and so I step in. “After the attack. I know. I got your messages, it just … it was hard for a while there. I’m glad to be back now.”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself.” She leans in closer. “We’re all very happy for you, you know. Walker is a great guy. You deserve it after all you’ve been through.”

  After we wrap up our conversation, my heart lighter than it’s been in this room in years, Colleen walks up.

  “See? This isn’t so bad.” She has a smug smirk on her face.

  “You were right. And I have missed the crab ravioli.” I rub my stomach, looking over to the buffet.

  “I have Chef pack some up for me on nights when I forget to eat dinner. It’s my guilty pleasure. That cream sauce.” Colleen makes a to-die-for expression.

  “How are wedding plans going?” I ask, a glint in my eye.

  Hayes asked Colleen to marry him about two weeks ago. He proposed in their favorite coffee shop in town, got down on one knee while their large cold brews were being made. The town is buzzing with wedding planning, as the entire small community of Packton thinks they should have a say in where those two get hitched. It’s adorable, actually.