Enamored

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Enamored Page 11

by Susan Scott Shelley


  Overhead, the colorful parachute in a rainbow design sheltered them from the sun, and her breath caught at the beautiful panoramic views of Santa Monica Bay. "Thank you for thinking of this. I love it."

  "I hoped you would. I'm glad you were free today. I didn't want to have to wait to see you."

  "Me either. I know you don't have a game tomorrow. Do you have anything planned?" She could probably leave work at five and meet him for dinner.

  He pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his T-shirt. A series of emotions—worry, hope, fear, and pain—flickered over his face. "I'm meeting my birth parents tomorrow night."

  Thrilled for him, she twisted to give him a hug only to meet the resistance of the harness. "That's... wow. Are you ready? Nervous? Excited? Never mind, you're probably all of those things."

  "Those, and a few more. I don't know how it's going to go." He squeezed her hand like he sought reassurance.

  She squeezed back, then brought her other hand over to cover his on both sides. "I hope the meeting will be exactly what you need it to be."

  "Me too." He averted his attention to the scenery, but she noticed the tension in his jaw.

  "Call me if you what to talk about it, before or after, or both."

  "I'll let you know what happens."

  Needing to make him smile and lighten the mood, she tapped his foot with hers and gestured to the view. "This really is nice, like we're floating on air."

  "It reminds me of the feeling I get when I'm skydiving. The slow float down is like this."

  A tendril of trepidation teased through her stomach. Was he hinting at their next adventure? "I don't think I could ever do that."

  "Skydiving? Sure you could. But I'm not going to force you. If you ever wanted to do it, I'd be right there. But if you don't, you don't." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.

  Still, there was a hard line dividing the things she'd be willing to try and the things there was no way in hell she'd do. They needed to have a discussion. But not while they were in the middle of such a lovely experience, and not during the first time they'd seen each other in three weeks. There would be time for that later.

  Coming in for the landing was as gentle as going up had been. They slowly descended and landed softly on their feet, standing up. After they'd been unhooked from the chute and had shed their harnesses and life jackets, they stood together, looking out over the water as the boat cut through the water on its way to the pier.

  Savanna leaned against Slade's side. He wrapped his arm around her back and his hand stroked over her hip. She snuggled closer. "I really liked this."

  "I'm glad. Maybe you should call your mom now and let her know you survived." He smiled, but didn't appear to be teasing.

  "If I do, she'll want another call once I'm safely in my apartment, so I'll wait on that. She worries a lot."

  He kissed her temple. "Mmm hmm. I guess that's where you get it."

  "What?" Torn between surprise, insult, and annoyance, she pulled away from him. "I'm not like her. I know I worry, but I'm not as bad as she is. She worries about everything, including a lot of little things that don’t bother me."

  Slade studied her a moment and then looked out at the horizon. "Let me ask you something. Was she always the way she is now?"

  Pressing her lips together, Savanna thought back over the years. "She was overprotective when I was a kid, but not this bad. She went off the deep end with the worrying after my sister died. Dad did too, but to a lesser degree. I guess they were both so worried about losing me after they'd lost Molly."

  He linked their fingers together. "Is that when you started worrying and became more cautious too?"

  "I never really worried about something happening to either of them. I always assumed they'd be there. But it makes sense that being told over and over that everything in the world had the potential to hurt me probably is why I'm the way I am. But changing that way of thinking is so, so hard." She sighed and leaned on the rail. "I'm a mess."

  "You're not a mess." He drew her close once again.

  "I just need my brain rewired."

  "Well, when you kiss me, my circuits short out." His hand teased into her hair and drew it away from her face.

  Her heart warmed at his confession. She lifted her face to his, wanting a kiss, and he didn't disappoint. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gave herself over to the sensations of being in Slade's arms. The thrill of the thrill-seeker had only grown stronger, and for the moment, she didn't worry about anything. Slade filled her senses, and when that happened, she stopped being afraid.

  SLADE

  HE'D BEEN ON EDGE ALL day, but as the miles and minutes to his meeting with his birth parents evaporated, Slade's stomach was a tangled knot of nerves that swelled so big, he wanted to claw out of his skin. Drumming his hands on the dashboard and shifting in his seat didn't help rid his system of the jangling energy. There was no way he could have driven, not with his mind flipping between old memories and the uncertainty of the future. Thankfully, Liam had volunteered.

  Maybe this was something he was supposed to do on his own, but he needed Liam there. "Thanks for driving, and you know, being here."

  Liam turned the steering wheel in a smooth move and then his gaze flicked to Slade. "Anytime. This is their street. Are you ready?"

  "Yes and no."

  They pulled into the driveway of a modest split-level brick home that had a rock garden and pink flowers in yellow window boxes.

  Slade breathed in deep. Once. Twice. Then Liam's hand touched his shoulder. "Dude, they're going to be ecstatic. I’ll be right here if you need me."

  Slade nodded and climbed out of the car. His heart thudded hard, like a fist punching into a baseball glove.

  The front door opened before he reached it. Melanie beamed a smile. "You’re here. Come in. Mom and James are in the family room. They’re pretty nervous. I told them I’d let you in, in case you were nervous too." She led Slade into the foyer and toward a wide archway. "Here we are. I’ll give you privacy."

  The couple sitting together, holding hands on the couch under a large bay window, rose to their feet. Slade shuffled into the room. He had his dad's tall build and blue eyes. "Hi."

  "Slade." Tears in her eyes, Tiffany reached out her hands. "May we hug you?"

  Choked up, all he could do was nod and spread his arms wide. She hugged him tight, and then James put his arms around them both. Tiffany's shoulders shook and the front of Slade's shirt grew damp. He returned the hug, unsure of what he should be feeling. They were strangers, and yet, they weren't.

  Sniffling, she eased back and with a watery laugh, brushed at the evidence of her tears. "I'm so happy to meet you."

  "Me too." James wiped at his eyes and stepped away. "Please, sit."

  Slade chose the chair beside the couch. He couldn't stop looking at them, searching for more similarities, the shape of a chin, their hands, their mannerisms.

  Tiffany grasped James' hand. "I thought about you every day. Every single day."

  "Knowing that a part of me was out there somewhere in the world and I'd likely never see you again." James' voice cracked and he shook his head. "I made a decision at sixteen that I've regretted so much over the years. I've pictured you in every possible job, wondered about who you were, what you'd become."

  Slade swallowed against a thickening throat. "I wondered about you guys too."

  "We'll tell you anything you want to know."

  He took a deep breath, and then asked the one question he had asked himself the most. "Why did you give me up?"

  Face flushed, Tiffany glanced at James and swallowed hard. He nodded at his wife and let go of her hand. She scooted toward Slade, but stayed on the couch. Her foot tapped in a restless rhythm that matched his perfectly. Same foot and everything. "We were too young. You have to understand, I was raised in a chaotic home, not a loving one. They didn't support my decision to keep you. The fights were nothing less than
traumatic. Dad said if I wanted to have the baby to go ahead, but not under his roof. I didn't have much choice. I had nowhere else to go. Honestly, I didn't want to raise my child in that environment anyway. I wanted better for you."

  James cleared his throat. "I thought adoption would give you a chance at a good life. I was immature. I didn't know how to be a dad at that age and I was too scared to try."

  Slade nodded. He could understand. They'd been too young. He couldn't fault them for doing what they'd thought was the best thing for him. He might have done the same thing at their age. They hadn't hated him, as he'd feared. They'd struggled hard with their decision. "Did you get to pick out Jeannette, the woman who adopted me?"

  "They didn't give us any information about her, other than she was a relative of someone who attended the same church as my parents, and she couldn't have kids." The tension in Tiffany's voice reflected his own. "When Melanie told us that she'd found you, and then who you were, we couldn't believe it. We've seen you play ball, but that's all we know about you."

  "Please," James moved closer to his wife and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, "tell us about you. We want to know everything."

  "Well..." he hesitated only long enough to take a deep breath then the words flowed easier than he expected. "I grew up in Malibu. Jeannette died in a car accident when I was six."

  Tiffany's eyes filled with pain and James reached over and rested his hand on Slade's shoulder. "We're so sorry."

  The comforting touch overwhelmed him. "I didn't have an adoptive father. After that, I lived with her Aunt Liz until I turned eighteen. Liz passed away when I was in my first season of minor league ball."

  "I'm so sorry you lost them both." Tiffany wiped away fresh tears. "All these years, I've worried, prayed, and hoped that you were okay, that you were in a loving home and had the best of everything."

  The few memories he had about life with Jeannette were vague but happy. Letting them think he'd been surrounded by love at Liz's house was a kindness he could grant them. "I grew up on the beach and played a lot of baseball. Every kid's dream."

  Tiffany smiled. "I'm glad. But I hate thinking that you've been all alone since Liz passed."

  He thought of Liam, Dom, and Adam. Thanks to them, he hadn't been alone. "I have a great group of friends who've been there for me. I guess I created my own family."

  "I've always carried you here." James brought a hand to his heart. "We want you to be a part of our family, as much or as little as you like."

  "Yes, please," Tiffany added. "I'd love a chance to start over."

  Fighting the urge not to tear up, he nodded. "I'd like that."

  James stood. "Would you like to meet the rest of the crew?"

  "Sure."

  They led him into the kitchen where Liam sat with Melanie and a younger boy and girl. James stood behind the two, resting his hand on their shoulders. "This is Chloe and Caden. And..." He looked at Liam. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you."

  Liam extended his hand. "I'm Liam. Slade's friend."

  Melanie grinned at him. "I saw him waiting in the car and told him he could come in. I knew Mom wouldn’t mind if we broke out the brownies. Here, Slade, have one."

  Slade moved closer, needing the familiarity and solidity Liam provided in the midst of his muddled emotions and all the new faces.

  Standing in the too-warm kitchen, they talked about baseball, and Tiffany and James' jobs, and his half-siblings' hobbies. The love between his parents and the loving relationship they shared with their kids was self-evident. Envy and longing twisted together like thorns on a vine. Slade didn’t share history with any of them. The logical side of his brain knew he’d likely feel like an outsider for a while, but the emotional side wanted an immediate connection.

  The surreal feeling he’d experienced with Melanie was back, and the enormity of the situation was almost too much to process. Overwhelmed and needing safe or neutral territory, he met Liam's gaze. "We should go."

  The group walked them to the door and everyone made promises to keep in touch and get together again soon. Slade went through a round of hugs that felt both awkward and nice.

  Too drained, he didn't even offer to drive. Simply slid into the passenger seat and dropped his head onto the headrest. While Liam laid a heavy foot onto the gas pedal, he stared out the window at the houses rolling by. Thoughts and emotions jumbled together, overlapping and conflicting until everything was a riot of confusion.

  Liam didn't speak until they were in the elevator of their apartment building. "Dom and Adam are upstairs. They called when you were in with Tiffany and James. I figured you'd want them here."

  Slade nodded. "Thanks."

  His friends met them at the door. He accepted a beer from Adam and a hug from Dom. When they were settled into their usual places in the living room, Liam turned on the TV and searched until he landed on highlights from the evening's ballgames on the East Coast.

  Dom nudged Slade's knee. "Well?"

  "They're nice. I'm not sure what I feel or what's going to happen. I don't think we'll ever be as close as they are with their other kids. It's different, growing up with people compared to meeting them when you're a fully formed adult."

  "The experiences you share going forward will help shape your relationship."

  "I know." But it still wasn't the same. He took a long pull from the bottle. "I don't know that I'll ever look at them and think Dad and Mom, or call them that. It's too foreign a concept. Jeannette was my mom, and I don't even remember that much about her."

  Beside him, Liam winced in sympathy and patted his arm.

  Too many emotions rushed through him, lodging in his throat. He had to clear it before he could speak. "Growing up, the only thing I ever wanted was to be wanted. I never had that after Jeannette died."

  Immediately, three heads swiveled in his direction. Liam's hand rested on Slade's left shoulder and Dom's landed on his right.

  Liam spoke first. "Dude, I'm sorry. I hope we help make up for that a little. We always want you around."

  Seated on the rug, Adam scooted closer. "You know we've got your back."

  Dom's fingers dug in until Slade met his gaze. "Always. We're family."

  Slade nodded. Swallowing a fresh lump in his throat, he smiled. "Thanks, guys."

  He'd never felt loved. Not until he'd become friends with the trio surrounding him.

  Dom had been the first person to ever say I love you to him. An I love you, man wrapped in smiles and back slaps and good feelings that had filled the empty space in his soul and soothed the ache of being alone.

  Liam was his partner in crime. The other half of his brain. They just got each other. Same sense of humor, same taste in music, same ferocious loyalty to their friends and each other.

  And Adam. The coolheaded reasoning, the one they could all count on to be logical.

  The guys proved they had his back time and time again, always looking after him, always looking out for him, always wanting the best for him.

  He'd been right in saying he'd created his own family. He just wasn't sure what to do about the one that had suddenly appeared, or how that puzzle piece would fit into the picture of his life.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CLAIRE

  CLAIRE WALKED INTO the office, desperate for coffee. The cup she'd downed on the way to the stadium hadn't helped clear the cobwebs of sleep at all. For the first time, she wished the ball game were already over. Too little sleep had left her off-balance. And grumpy.

  A tie game and six extra innings the night before had meant entertaining the crowd until nearly midnight, and then she and Liam had joined Slade and Savanna, and Dom and Adam and their wives Irisa and Gemma for a drink. Getting to know everyone better had been a blast, but she was paying for it now.

  Her sore muscles protested every movement and a dull headache brewed behind her eyes. Hopefully, this afternoon's game wouldn't drag on past nine. She made a bee-line for the single-cup coffee brewer next to
the mini-fridge and chose a bold roast breakfast blend. Eye-opening caffeine with a hint of hazelnut.

  The door opened and Liam swung through. Sans boot. But still using crutches.

  Claire blinked and then looked at his leg again. Gray shorts, tanned calves, and sneakers.

  Nope. Not seeing things. No boot.

  He grinned. "Hey."

  "Aren't you forgetting something?"

  "Oh, right." He crossed to her slowly and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  She stifled a yawn. "That was nice but I meant, where's your boot?"

  "Ditched it with Andy's approval this morning. I get to start physical therapy on Wednesday." He looked as excited as a kid with a pile of presents on Christmas morning.

  "That's great. So, his two-week time frame was spot-on."

  "The ankle still aches a lot and it's tight and still a little swollen, but he says that's normal. All systems go on recovery mode." He frowned. "No offense, but you look beat."

  "I am beat. A frantic, six a.m. phone call from Lauren didn't help my beauty sleep."

  "You're still beautiful."

  "Thank you." Heat rushed into her cheeks.

  "Is everything okay with your sister?"

  "Yeah. Just teenage drama. It was fine by the time we ended the call."

  "She's lucky to have you." He tossed his costume onto the couch. "After the game, why don't you come home with me? Slade won't be there, the team is flying to St. Louis right after the game. It'll be just you and me. We can have dinner. You can relax. I can hide your phone so your sisters don't bug you for a few hours."

  Laughing, she leaned forward and kissed him. "That's the nicest offer I've had in a long time."

  "Yeah? So if I add in a massage and drinks, does that increase the chances of you saying yes?"

  She drained her coffee and set the cup aside, lifted by the anticipation of a laid-back Sunday evening with Liam. "I'm in."

 

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