“Are you going to run the story?”
“I have to run something. I have to call out the injury. You’ll have to deal with it, so you might want to talk to your coach about what happened. You can’t hold the whole team back because you’re scared of getting hurt again.”
He nodded solemnly, but she softened the blow by adding, “I don’t want to hurt you any further, though. I’ll tell my readers you’re back to one hundred percent. I’ll point to your strength in the field. I’m going to tell them to be patient with you while you get your timing back at the plate.”
His expression shifted from one of embarrassment to surprise. “Why would you do that for me?”
“Because I hope you’re with this team for a long time, and I hope I am, too. You’ve got a lot of big interviews left in you. I want you to learn to trust me now so that when that time comes you’ll come to me first.”
“I will. Thank you.” A flash of his boyishness returned before he regained his business face.
“I’m going to file my game report right away, but I’m going to try to catch an earlier flight back to St. Louis, so I’ll write the piece about your injury on the plane. You’ve got at least six hours before it hits the web, enough time to talk to whoever you need to.”
“Thank you,” he said. “It won’t be an easy conversation, but it’s probably time to have it anyway.”
She smiled the best she could with the ache in her chest throbbing once again. “I know exactly what you mean.”
*
West Coast routes back to the Midwest were brutal, but she’d been unwilling to wait another day and caught a red-eye from San Diego to St. Louis. Now at quarter till six she was sitting in the hallway outside Molly’s apartment. It was too early for the boys to be awake, but she’d got the sense from the amount of caffeine Molly consumed that she had to be an early riser. She was taking a gamble, but this whole ordeal had been a huge gamble for both of them. She only hoped she could renew some of that renegade spirit in Molly, or at least not get thrown out again.
Taking a deep inhale for courage, she hit send on a text message simply saying, I’m out front. I brought coffee.
Less than a minute later, Molly opened the door—well, not opened as much as cracked enough to peek out.
“What’re you doing here?” her voice was low with more exhaustion than anger.
“I miss you. I’m sorry for how things ended. I want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. We made a mistake.”
“I respectfully disagree. I thought we did pretty well together, and you did, too, for a while.”
She could see only about half of Molly’s face, but the corner of her mouth in view curled up slowly.
The little hint of a smile served as confirmation enough to raise Duke’s heartbeat. Whatever had gone wrong between them hadn’t occurred in the bedroom. “Swinging for the fences with you wasn’t a mistake, Molly. My only regret was letting you throw me out before we made it home, but I think I finally understand why you did.”
Molly arched her one visible eyebrow but didn’t budge.
She couldn’t say what she needed to say in the hallway. “I understand you’re scared, but am I really so threatening we need to have this conversation with a door between us?”
She sighed. “You said you had coffee?”
Duke held up the matching carry-out cups. “I do. And if you open the door a little wider, you can have some, too.”
The door opened slowly, revealing Molly in a threadbare T-shirt and well-worn pajama bottoms. She looked so casual, so comfortable, so cozy, Duke wanted nothing more than to hold her. Instead, she held out one of the coffee cups.
“Thank you,” Molly said, taking it in a way that didn’t allow their fingers to touch. “It’s been a long two weeks.”
“Indeed. A lot of long, busy days spent trying to stay focused, followed by even longer and more restless nights.”
She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee, then closing her eyes to savor it, or maybe to avoid eye contact. “Do you see now why what we did was such a bad idea?”
“No. What we shared was amazing, life-altering even. We were perfect together. You already agreed with me, so don’t even try to say you didn’t feel it, too.”
“Of course I felt it in the heat of the moment. God, Duke, I lost all control.” She looked around as if embarrassed to even admit that, then nodded for Duke to come in and shut the door behind her.
Bolstered by both Molly’s words and her invitation into the apartment, Duke pressed on. “That’s a good thing, a great thing. We have something powerful between us if it shook you up.”
“There’s no us. There’s not even a me right now. You understand, right?”
“I didn’t at first. I replayed that night a thousand times trying to figure out what I said or did to hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“But you have been hurt. You’ve been disappointed and abandoned, first by your family, then by the boys’ dad. You’ve been strong and kept going because you’re amazing, but the reminders of the pain will never go away.”
“I’m doing fine without them, so please don’t make this some sort of sob story about my past.”
“I’m not, Molly. I don’t pity you. I’m not pacifying you. You’re strong and steady, and I don’t flatter myself enough to think you wouldn’t be fine without me.” She steeled herself for what she had to say next. She’d made all the right jumps in the locker room. Could she make the same connections here? “I think you could survive being let down again, but you’re afraid the boys couldn’t. That’s why you didn’t freak out until you saw me with Joe. You know what it feels like to have the people who should love you and protect you unconditionally turn their backs on you. You panicked because you want to protect your kids from that kind of pain.”
She finally looked up, her deep eyes dark and wounded. “I’m the only one they have left.”
“That’s not true. I don’t have the relationship with them that you do, but I love them, Molly. It hurt me every bit as much as it hurt you to think something I’d done, some sort of carelessness on my part, no matter how unintentional, might upset Joe. It hurt me for all the same reasons it hurt you, but I had no intention of running away. I’m not Tony. I won’t leave because things aren’t ideal.”
“Please stop bringing him up. He didn’t leave me. I left him.”
Duke eyed her carefully, from her rigid shoulders to the tint of embarrassment or frustration coloring her cheeks. Duke was on the right track, but she hadn’t gotten there yet. She waited, silently asking for the rest of the story.
Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “I asked for too much. I pushed him out. I’ve already gotten my children hurt once.”
“Oh, Molly.” Duke reached for her, no longer able to resist the crushing need to hold her. Molly resisted only a second before folding into her embrace. “You aren’t responsible for him. You may’ve ended the marriage, but you didn’t end his chance to be a father.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t. He’s a coward, a self-centered, immature coward, but more importantly, I’m not him. I want to be part of your team, even when we’re down in the count, even if you and I don’t make things work as a couple. I’ll never abandon you or those boys.” Duke held Molly at arm’s length. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t believe me.”
Molly didn’t shy away from the eye contact, but she didn’t cave either. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s me. What if I don’t know how to do this anymore? What if I never really knew how? I’ve never had a successful relationship in my life.”
Duke shook her head. “You said it yourself. It’s not just about you. We’re all in this together.”
“I’ve been doing everything on my own for so long it’s all I know.”
“We’ll learn together. That’s what being a part of a team is all about. Me, you, Joe, and Charlie, we’ll take the field togethe
r.” Duke pulled her near once more, this time cupping her face in her hands. “What do you say?”
Molly smiled, slowly at first. “How do you manage to make sports talk sound so damn romantic?”
“You must inspire those sentiments in me.”
Molly finally brushed her lips to Duke’s, melting weeks of tension and sadness as heat and relief raced through her in equal parts. Duke soaked up the feel of soft skin and the taste of coffee as they pressed into each other. She wrapped her arms around Molly’s back, holding her close as their mouths got reacquainted. She felt so amazing her mind needed a minute to reassert itself. She pulled back far enough to murmur, “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Bottom of the Sixth
Take One Game at a Time
Molly hurried through the door to her apartment at quarter till three. Joe was lying sprawled out across the living room floor, surrounded by sports magazines and the cushions to the couch. Charlie stood on the now-bare sofa wearing nothing but his red hooded bath towel and Iron Man underwear. A plastic spoon protruded from the waistband of the undies.
“Watch me, Joe,” Charlie yelled as he leapt from the couch and did a full extension into Superman pose before falling face-first into the cushions on the floor. His curls shook as his hearty laughter muffled against his crash-landing pad.
Joe didn’t even look up from his magazine, but Duke came half running, half hopping down the hallway, trying to pull on her shoes as she went.
“What’s going on, guys?” Molly asked.
They all looked up at her, then back at each other before the boys scrambled to their feet and Duke straightened up as if trying to pass inspection.
Charlie charged first. “Mama!”
She scooped him up, hugging him close. There was no feeling in the world better than a hug from a child who was truly happy to see her.
“Hi, Mol.” Duke leaned over Charlie’s head to give her a quick kiss.
Molly lingered on her lips just a moment, soaking up their softness and the scent of Duke’s cologne. She got a little light-headed at the surge of attraction, which was a pretty amazing feeling, too.
“Hi,” she said, pulling back and letting Charlie wriggle free.
“Hi, Mom,” Joe called.
“Hi, honey. How was your day?”
“Awesome,” he said with a grin.
Molly glanced around the room, from the couch cushions to the magazines to the dining room table covered in baseball charts and coloring books. “It looks like it.”
Duke grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, about that—”
“No need to explain. I’m glad you were here. Did you have any fun?”
“Of course. We watched cartoons. We tossed a baseball around. We ate mac and cheese for lunch.”
“Did you jump on the couch cushions, too?”
Duke shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s part of my hazing. Charlie got me to rush his fraternity.”
Molly laughed. “Did you just call my three-year-old son a frat boy?”
“Come on, you know he’s going to rock the keg parties in college. I want to be invited to them.”
“What about Joe? Is he in the frat?”
“No, he’s going to be one of those kids who actually studies at college.”
“I certainly hope so,” Molly said, enjoying the banter. She hadn’t had another adult around to unwind with at the end of the day for a long time.
Duke glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry to run out on you so fast, but I have to get to work.”
Work. Molly didn’t mind the messy house or the rowdy kids, and she loved coming home to all three of the people she enjoyed most. Everything would’ve been perfect if not for work.
She’d left the restaurant a mess and chose not to think about how that might reflect on her come promotion time, but she was cutting it close. Duke had been great with the boys while their babysitter was out with strep throat, and Molly didn’t know what she would’ve done without her. No, that wasn’t true. She’d dealt with child-care emergencies plenty of times. She would’ve had to miss work, then rearrange the budget to prioritize things like food over the cable bill that might or might not get paid due to the loss of income. She would’ve been stressed out and worried for weeks afterward. Duke’s willingness to watch the boys until she had to get to the ballpark solved ninety percent of the problem and meant Molly had to worry only about getting home half an hour early. She couldn’t repay Duke’s good faith by making her late to work.
“You understand, right?” Duke asked.
“Of course, go. We’ll talk tonight.” She hated the thought of going back out tonight. “Thanks for watching the kids.”
“My pleasure,” Duke said in a way that made Molly believe her.
“Have a good game tonight.”
“Thanks.” Duke headed for the door, then turned back and kissed her once more, slow and sweet, but not nearly long enough. Then she was gone, leaving Molly to catch her breath both literally and figuratively.
*
Molly’s vibrating phone startled her awake. She rubbed her eyes and squinted at the screen. U still awake?
“I am now,” she muttered, then texted back, Yes, come on by.
She stood and stretched her arms over her head, trying to decompress her spine. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa, but the boys had worn her out. Charlie had dumped his entire cup of red juice down the front of himself two minutes before they were supposed to leave for the game. She had to wash him off, change his clothes, and sop up the mess on the floor, making them late. There’d been nowhere to park, and they’d had to walk an extra-long way through the busy downtown streets of St. Louis, then run down the stadium concourse to get there in time for the national anthem. Then after all the hassle, Duke hadn’t even been able to sit with them.
Molly had been too frazzled to pay attention to Duke’s full explanation—something about the trade deadline passing and the Cardinals still being out of first place. She got the sense the clubhouse wasn’t the happiest place to be right now, and Duke wasn’t the kind of woman who detached herself emotionally. While Molly loved her dedication, she also wondered what kind of toll it took.
She focused her eyes on the digital clock on the DVD player. 12:32 in the morning. If she’d realized it was so late, she wouldn’t have told Duke to come over.
She smiled at her attempt to intellectualize her decision, but she’d made that call with her heart, not her head. She liked being around Duke. She liked to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss her and to—
A soft knock on the door interrupted that train of thought. She rose and answered it, trying to restrain herself from jumping Duke the minute her blond hair and blue eyes came into view.
“Hi,” Duke said with a grin. “I worried I might be too late.”
Molly closed the door behind her, then reached for Duke’s hand and led her to the couch. “I worried you might not call since the game was so bad.”
She blew out an exasperated breath and hung her head. “Yeah, another long game. And the Reds won, too. We’re four games back now.”
Molly noticed, not for the first time, Duke said “we” when referring to the Cardinals. “I guess the clubhouse was a bit somber tonight?”
“That’s one way to put it. The more they lose, the tighter they get. Everyone’s on the defensive. No one wants to talk. I can only rehash the play-by-play so many times before readers get bored.”
“No one could ever get bored with you,” Molly said as she ran her hand through Duke’s hair. In their short time together, she’d found the move soothed them both.
“Honestly, I’m bored with me right now, or at least with the stories I’m filing. They’re glorified closed-captioning of the games. They’re hitting, but they can’t string hits together. They’re making good pitches, but the other teams are still connecting. They’re playing well and still losing. I’ve got no real insights on why, though. They’re simply underperforming, and it’s frustrating to
watch, much less rehash in print.”
“What are they going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I spent the last few hours trying to get out of them. I must’ve asked the question of thirty different people from players to coaches to front office guys.”
“And what did they say?”
“They have to take one game at a time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Duke rubbed her face and stifled a laugh.
“What?”
“It’s true. That’s the most maddening part. They’re right. They have a good team. They have good fundamentals.”
“But they’re four games out of first place.”
“Yes, they are.” She sighed. “And they can’t get tonight back. They can’t make up four games in one day, either. They have to keep going out there and playing the game right every night until something breaks in their favor. In the meantime, they can’t press too hard.”
“And what about you?” Molly asked. Despite all Duke’s talk about not pressing or trying to do too much, she was clearly tired. The circles under her eyes were a dark contrast to the pale blues. “Are you trying too hard to make something out of nothing? You’re out until the wee hours of the morning trying to drum up explanations that don’t exist and then poring over depth charts all day.”
“Maybe. I probably should’ve gone home and let us both get some sleep.”
“Why didn’t you?” Molly asked, silently hoping Duke’s explanation for this late-night meeting would be the same as hers.
“Because I needed to see you, Molly.” She shook her head. “I needed you more than sleep, more than food, more than anything. Even with everything in my mind and body clamoring for my attention, all I crave is you.”
Molly didn’t even try to respond to the perfection Duke had given voice to—at least not verbally, anyway. Instead, she captured Duke’s mouth with her own. Duke’s body responded immediately. Her lips softened as the muscles along the plane of her abs contracted. Molly loved the way she could turn her on. She still had moments of panic when she let herself examine how out of control Duke made her feel, but all she had to do was watch desire transform her body to realize she was not without power in the flood of need between them.
Heart of the Game Page 19
