Out of Left Field

by Morgan Kearns

  “It’s been twenty-five years. What makes you think I want a relationship with you?”

  Frankie stepped in front of him, like she protected him. Xavier didn’t need her to protect him, yet he kind of liked a moment of reprieve.

  “Your father said your mother left, taking you with her. He told Xavier he’d searched and you were nowhere to be found.” Frankie shook her head, her blond curls flirting with her shoulders. “Seems that wasn’t the truth since you’re using your own name and you’re listed in the freakin’ phone book. It took all of a couple of hours for the private investigator we hired to find you.”

  Her dark brows dropped low. Obviously she didn’t like the idea of being found.

  “As soon as I knew where you were,” Xavier said, stepping up next to Frankie. “I knew I needed to at least try to find you.”

  Frankie reached over and pulled an envelope out of her bag, handing it to his sister. “This is for you and a guest. Please come and be our guests at Saturday’s playoff game. There are hotel accommodations as well as money for gas or a rental car or … call me and I’ll drive over to get you. We’d just really like you to join us.”

  Shayne hesitated for a near eternity before taking the stuff. “I’ll think about it. I’m sorry, but that’s the most I can promise.

  29

  “You know what that means better than I do.” Coach took his hat off and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “He’s done.”

  “No.” Frankie turned around and put her hands on her hips. “He is not done.”

  Coach shrugged. “That’s your heart talking, Doc.”

  Using her thumb, she twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “Maybe it is. But come on, if you bench him forever, it’ll break his heart. And mine. All I’m asking is for one game.” She stepped toward Coach and sighed. “I know he’s done. You know he’s done. Hell, even he knows he’s done. Ricky’s fantastic. We all know that, too. But give X one last game. Let him go out a winner.”

  Coach shook his head, but not saying no. “He’ll need to sign a waiver.”

  Frankie rolled her eyes. “His shoulder isn’t up to professional standards, but he’s not going to injure it again in a single game.”

  “It only took a single throw last time.”

  “It did not take a single throw.” She wanted to throw something or knock Coach in the head.

  “He’ll have to sign a waiver.”

  “I’ll sign the waiver, taking responsibility.”

  Coach bit his lip. Shook his head. Cursed. “Dammit, Doc.” He snorted. “Fine. Sign a waiver, taking full responsibility for any injury he may or may not receive during the game and he’ll play Saturday night.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Coach. Oh, thank you.”

  He chuckled and patted her on the back. “This will be his final game. No matter the outcome.”

  “Okay.” She stepped away from him and nodded her understanding.

  “Do you want to tell him or should I?”

  “You tell him, and don’t tell him I twisted your arm.”

  Another head shake. “You’re a hell of a woman, Doc. Xavier’s a lucky man.”

  ***

  “Xavier!”

  X looked up to see Coach standing in the doorway of the gym. The scowl on his face didn’t bode well. Xavier’s stomach dropped to his toes. Coach finger-jabbed through the air and Xavier felt the stab as his heart thudded against his ribs.

  “Office. Now.”

  Xavier shot a look at Grayson, who only shook his head and shrugged. Well, hell, this was it. Frankie had told him after the MRI she was afraid his shoulder hadn’t healed well enough to keep him on the diamond. The truth was, he knew it. He hadn’t seen any medical assessments, but he knew his body and his career had come to an end that fateful day. His throat tightened, making it hard to gain oxygen from the gasps of air he couldn’t get into his lungs. Each beat of his heart sent another shot of acid through his veins.

  As he made the short journey down the long hall, he became a dead man walking, minus the shackles. At least the physical ones.

  “Hey, man.” Coach glanced up from where he’d sat down behind his desk. “Shut the door.”

  Xavier did then sank down in a chair and tried to ignore the nausea causing his stomach to flip-flop.

  Coach held up an x-ray. “It’s not good, I’m afraid. I finished talking to Frankie—”

  He gulped, hating that his wife had been part of the decision to bench him.

  “—and we both agree one more game won’t hurt anything.”

  Elation. Pure, simple and sweet. He made himself stay in the chair, kept his hands in his lap, tried really, really hard not to smile. And failed on the latter. He grinned, huge and cheesy.

  “Get suited up. You’re back in left field tonight. But only for tonight.”

  “I understand. Thanks, Coach.” Xavier stood and headed for the door. He made it into the hall before he took off on a run. He nearly knocked Grayson over as he came out of the gym. “I’m in,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  Grayson shouted the woohoo! Xavier had managed to keep under wraps.

  Xavier raced into Frankie’s office and slammed the door. She jumped, her head jerking upright. “Xavier.”

  He considered pulling a pretend angry bit, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “I’m in, Doc! I’m in!”

  She smiled and stood to walk around her desk, resting a hip against the front. “I heard.”

  Of course she had. Coach had said she’d been in on the decision. He hadn’t said, but Xavier guessed she probably twisted his arm, probably bending it until it nearly broke.

  Since their marriage, they’d managed to keep themselves professional at the stadium. Right now, though, Xavier couldn’t care less about decorum. He grabbed her, tugged her into his arms and swung her in a wide circle. She threw her head back and laughed. He placed her back on her feet and kissed her, careful to keep his libido under control.

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Through the glass Ricky Santiago waved. Xavier bit back a growl. Frankie motioned him to come inside. “Play nice.”

  Santiago opened the door and stepped in. “Seems like I’m ridin’ the pine today.”

  Frankie’s fingers bit into his forearm.

  “I’m glad.” Ricky smiled and stuck out his hand. “I wanted to wish you good luck.”

  Xavier shook his hand. “Thanks, man.”

  “You’d better stop kissin’ on your lovely wife and get dressed. We’ve gotta be on the field in a half hour to warm up.” Ricky jerked his head at Frankie. “Later, Doc.”

  When Santiago was out of earshot, Xavier turned back to Frankie. “I don’t like that guy.”

  She shook her head. “He was very nice. Very gracious.”

  “Very fake.”

  Her hand smacked against his backside. “Go put this hot hiney in your uniform. I’ll be in the box with Christian.”

  “Do you think she’ll show?”

  Frankie shrugged. “I sure hope so.”

  ***

  Sporting a Xavier jersey, Frankie hung out in the box with Christian. At the bottom of the first, there’d still been no sign of Shayne. She could sense Xavier’s anxiety as he stepped up to the plate. He tossed a glance toward her from under the brim of his dark blue batting helmet. She kissed her fingertips and waved. He plucked her kiss out of the air and held his fist to his heart.

  The door of the box opened and a strange woman wearing a Rockets cap strolled in.

  “Shayne!” Frankie jumped to her feet, jammed her hands into the air. She worried she hadn’t caught Xavier’s attention in time, but as his smile grew, she knew he’d seen her.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. I got stuck in traffic.” Shayne rushed to the front of the box. “What’d I miss?”

  “He’s at bat.”

  Shayne folded her arms and watched along with Frankie and Christian as five pitches brought the count
full. Frankie thought she might just be sick. Her stomach churned and she found herself biting her nails.

  The next pitch crossed right over the sweet spot and Xavier’s swing brought the bat around at the right time. The solid thunk! of wood against ball stopped Frankie’s heart. She watched the white globe soar through the blue sky and cheered. It dropped to the grass, barely missed by the sliding center fielder. Xavier ran, holding up at first base. Two batters later and he crossed home plate, bringing the score to one and oh with two outs. The next hitter fanned out and the teams switched sides.

  Frankie gave Shayne a hug. “I’m so glad you made it.”

  “I just feel bad I didn’t make it before the game, so I could have said hello to Matty.”

  “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

  “I’m Christian.” He raised his beer. “Can I get you something?”

  “A water?”

  “Oh—” Frankie ran over to the side of the suite and picked up the gift Xavier had given her for Shayne. She held it out to his sister. “—this is for you.”

  Shayne was a bit hesitant, but took the bag graciously and pulled the tissue paper from the top. She peered inside and laughed. “A Xavier t-shirt?”

  “It seems only right, don’t you think?”

  She laughed and held it against herself. The white shirt with its navy sleeves would be a perfect fit. “Is there somewhere I can change?”

  Christian pointed to the bathroom. “Right through there. We were just going to order some food. Whatcha hungry for?”

  Shayne looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Hot dog with all the fixings.”

  “We are at a baseball game.” Christian laughed, picked up the phone to place their order.

  “Exactly,” Shayne said as she ducked into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “I like her. Oh, hi. Yeah.” Christian made their order while Frankie worked her way back over to watch the action on the field. Xavier smacked his fist into his glove and watched the pitch. It crossed the plate. The batter swung and the bat made contact. The ball flew into right field and landed in the awaiting mitt. The next batter sent two balls foul then swung too low, missing the ball completely. Two outs.

  One more and she could breathe.

  She’d attended a lot of ballgames, but never felt the intense pressure she did since adorning the jersey of her husband.

  Her husband.

  She loved that term. Christian stepped to her side and they cheered when the final out drove the teams back to their dugouts.

  “I’m glad you love him.” Frankie jumped at the sound of Shayne’s voice. “It’s obvious he loves you, too.”

  “Do you have someone special in your life?”

  “Yes, but not it’s what you think.”

  Okay, that wasn’t cryptic at all.

  “I’m feelin’ a little out of place between you two.” Christian pointed down to his blank gray t-shirt. “I should probably get a Rockets shirt, huh?”

  “Sure,” Shayne said while Frankie asked, “Are you gonna put Xavier on your back, too?”

  Christian shook his head. “Hell, no. I’m thinking just a plain Rockets shirt. Shayne, wanna take a spin around the concourse?”

  She looked at Frankie. “Do you mind?”

  “No. Have fun.” Left all alone, she sat down and watched the game, watched Xavier play. Her heart hurt knowing this would be the final game of his career. He had talent. And damn, he looked sexy as hell in those pants of his.

  She wondered if she could talk him into wearing those pants while she wore the jersey. Between them they’d have a whole uniform. Oh, yeah, she liked that idea.

  ***

  Life didn’t get much better. Xavier stood in the outfield, completely at home. He belonged here. At least he had. His damned shoulder, it seemed, had other ideas.

  Much like the game where he’d injured his shoulder, they were two outs away from victory. Another pitch, another strike or another caught fly ball and his career would be over.

  He should be miserable knowing the final out meant an end to his career. However, he couldn’t bring himself to find even a moment of sadness or a twinge of regret. He shot a glance up to the skybox and his heart jumped. Frankie stood next to Shayne, both of them wearing his name, their name, on their backs.

  He hoped Shayne allowed him in her life. He’d missed her, and hadn’t realized how much until he’d seen her again. She was the only family he had left. Well, that wasn’t exactly true now, was it?

  Christian stepped up next to Frankie and Xavier smiled. Sonofabitch. He supposed he’d gained a brother in the bargain.

  The pitch flew down the pipe. Xavier watched, his eyes narrowed, focused. The batter took a swing. No contact. The ball landed with a thud in the catcher’s mitt and the crowd went nuts.

  Xavier looked up to see his girls jump up and snare each other in a victory hug. Christian pumped his arms in the air. Xavier smiled and shook his head. Sometimes life really did catch a guy off guard, slap him upside the head.

  As Xavier exited the diamond for the last time as the Rockets’ left fielder, he hopped over the foul line and his heart jumped. He would have to contend with the media. They’d have questions about his shoulder and the end of his career. Damn vultures would want to know all the ins and outs, hows and whys of his departure from the game.

  No use prolonging the inevitable. He hurried down to the press room, his cleats click-clacking on the tiled floor, and took a seat. Frankie entered the room and took the seat next to him. Coach flanked his other side.

  Questions asked, answers given. Frankie fielded most of them since they had to do with his injury. Coach announced Santiago would be his replacement. No shocker there.

  “Final question,” Coach told the crowd.

  Xavier shook his head as the questioner stepped forward. She smiled at him and he knew his private life was about to go public.

  “Jane Pierce, KKLV.”

  “We all know who you are, Jane.” Xavier rolled his eyes.

  “A little bird told me you’ve recently been married.”

  Frankie’s gasp said she didn’t see Jane’s pronouncement coming. Her wide blue eyes sought his and she grabbed his hand under the table. His amusement matched her surprise and he just couldn’t resist.

  He pushed away from the table and stood, taking Frankie with him. She stumbled into him before steadying herself. She blushed and Xavier grinned. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Her eyes went saucer. He pressed his lips to hers and she sighed, unresisting. Their quick kiss conveyed the passion he held for his wife. And he loved showing her off.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” he told the crowd, holding out Frankie’s left hand, “I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Dr. Frances Xavier. All other questions can be answered by Jane Pierce, since she had a front row seat at the wedding.” Jane’s mouth fell open and Xavier winked. “Little bird, my ass.”

  With Frankie’s hand held tightly in his, he walked away from the media, away from the game, away from everything he’d thought mattered … and he couldn’t have cared less.

  One lone woman with her stubborn ability to love him for exactly who he was, flaws and all, had changed his world.

  Life really did throw a guy curve balls.

  And good things really did come out of left field.

  Turn the page for an excerpt from:

  In It To Win It

  (Deadlines & Diamonds, #2)

  Take one saucy sportscaster,

  add baseball’s notorious bad-boy,

  throw in fifteen years of frenzied feelings

  and an exclusive interview with strings attached…

  and you get a reunion

  that’s sure to get knocked out of the park.

  “If sweet and romance had a baby, this book would be the finished product.” 5 stars from Romance Novel Junkie

  1

  GRAYSON PIERCE WAS LARGER THAN LIFE—and annoying as hell.

  The
man had been a thorn in Jane’s side for nearly twenty years—if she counted elementary school, she guessed it was even longer than that—and he’d never been a bigger pain in her ass than in this very moment.

  “Can you do that, Jane?” Dale asked from behind his desk.

  Dale was the News Director for KHB—and her boss. His blue eyes were no nonsense and as he ran a hand over his thinning blond hair, Jane knew that his question wasn’t up for debate.

  Sweat coated her palms and she bit her lip. Jane wanted to say no. She wanted to say that there was no way she was going on the road to follow Pierce’s team around the freakin’ country while they played their way to the World Series. It was bad enough she had to report on how successful he was, but now, she was going to have to follow the jackass just to shove a microphone in his face so he could tell her how awesome he was.

  She wasn’t bitter though.

  “Sure thing, Dale,” she said through clenched teeth. “When do I leave?”

  “You and Nate will head out tomorrow afternoon. First stop, Vegas.”

  “Okay, I’ll go pack.” She turned on her heel but was stopped when Dale cleared his throat. She paused in the doorway of his office and her already sucky situation got worse.

  “Get an exclusive if you can. Anything nobody else has. There’s a raise in it for ya.”

  ***

  “PIERCE IS HOT TONIGHT,” THE COMMENTATOR said from overhead. “Swing and a miss.”

  Jane could clearly see Grayson from her vantage point just inside the tunnel that led to the locker room. He backed out of the batter’s box and tapped the bat against his cleats. A quick roll of his head on thick shoulders and he stepped back into the box, hefting the bat into position. The tip circled for a moment before stilling. The navy batter’s helmet with the large white R in the center was pulled down to his brows and his eyes were focused on the wind-up.