Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances

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Over the Fence: Lyssa Layne's Baseball Romances Page 22

by Lyssa Layne


  “What the fuck, Mia? What kind of scam—”

  I scramble out of the bed, rushing to him and placing my finger on his lip to cut him off. “Stop, Tate, before you say something you’ll regret.”

  I would never do this with my ex. He’d never let me try to calm him down in a moment like this. Although Tate’s clenching his fists and that vein keeps throbbing out of his temple, I’m oddly at peace, probably because I know Tate will like what I have to say.

  With a deep breath, I admit, “I can’t get pregnant, Tate. I can’t have kids.”

  I see Tate’s shoulders drop as he relaxes and his mouth toys between a frown and a smile. Although I know Tate is relieved to hear this news, as it’s obvious he doesn’t want more children, it still doesn’t make the pain that I feel every time I say that any easier.

  His hand moves to my hair as he runs his fingers through it. The other hand finds my waist and pulls me against him. Our bare chests touching as we rest our foreheads against one another’s.

  “Mia, I’m so sorry.”

  Tears fill my eyes again. He apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. In my marriage, there was no empathy, just blame. It was always my fault.

  Tate kisses me softly. “Please don’t cry, baby.”

  I nod, trying not to, but the emotion I always carry knowing that I’ll never be a mother takes over me and I begin to sob. Tate’s arms move around my body and he holds me tightly. He walks us over to the bed where he pulls me into his lap and pets my hair as he tries to calm me.

  A few minutes later, my emotional outburst subsides and after a few short breaths, I look at Tate and laugh. “I’m sorry about that.”

  He rubs my back. “It’s okay, Mia. Do you want to talk about it?”

  Wiping at my eyes, I shrug. “I had a ruptured appendix in college which left scar tissue on my Fallopian tubes. My husband and I tried for a couple years to get pregnant until finally we went to a specialist who explained what happened. I bet that makes you feel better, doesn’t it?” I say with a laugh, trying to play things off.

  Tate shakes his head and kisses my shoulder. “No, Mia, it doesn’t. I’d never feel good when you’re going through so much pain.”

  Tears fill my eyes again; this man knows exactly what to say. I move my lips and press them lightly against his. “I can’t wait to meet Toby,” I say softly.

  He grins. “Good. Although, he might try to steal you away from me.”

  I laugh and turn around to face him, straddling his legs. “I don’t know, I’m slowly beginning to think you’re the perfect guy…for me.”

  Tate raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

  I nod and with a quick twist, he flips me on my back as I giggle. I reach for the condom on the nightstand but Tate grabs my hand pushing both my arms over my head and grasping my hands with his. His lips press on mine and our tongues dance. I let out a loud gasp as I feel him enter me. Letting out a long moan, I try to enjoy the one positive in my situation.

  CHAPTER 11

  Mia

  Sweat trickles down my forehead into my eye. It burns and I quickly squeeze it shut as though that will do any good. With my forearm, I wipe the rest of the perspiration away and glance at the clock. Tate won’t arrive for another couple hours so I have plenty of time to finish putting this fire pit together before he arrives.

  Since I last saw him at spring training a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been getting his house ready for him to move in. I’ve unpacked plenty of clients before without them being there, but this time it’s much more intimate. While unpacking his box for his office, I’ve learned that he’s a Mac guy, his reading is limited to Sports Illustrated, and he’s a proud father. He has more pictures of Toby framed than he does of his teammates and awards.

  My phone beeps and I see a text from Asher. Wiping my forehead again, I mutter as I read it. I forgot that we were meeting for dinner. I don’t know how it slipped my mind. I plan on finally making a proposal to him for our business. It’s taken me months to feel well enough prepared to even discuss this with him. Recently though, I’ve been too consumed trying to make Tate’s place perfect that the meeting date had escaped me.

  The fire pit will have to wait. Tossing the screwdriver with the metal waiting to be pieced together, I head inside. I wouldn’t normally do this, but I’m late and I really don’t think the new owner will mind. I strip off my clothes and pull my hair into a tight bun then take a quick shower. Twenty minutes later and I’m in Tate’s kitchen leaving the keys to my ‘Vette and a note telling him to enjoy a drive along Highway 1.

  Outside, the cab I called honks, letting me know they’ve arrived. I slide into the backseat in my helio green Ellison dress. After giving the driver the address where we’re meeting, I lean back in the seat. Nervously, I slide the cameo pendant hanging in the square neckline of the dress back and forth along the chain.

  When we got divorced, we both refused to buy the other out of the business. I simply couldn’t afford it at the time since all of our finances were in his name and I got screwed over royally. When the divorce was final, Asher wasn’t a total jerk. He bought me a house and the alimony I received for the first year helped me survive, but I was forced to continue working with him just to pay the bills. Six months after our marriage ended, I proposed the idea to start flipping houses to him because I couldn’t do it alone. Luckily, Asher is a money-hungry man so he agreed.

  A year later and that endeavor has allowed me to have enough money to officially buy him out. Honestly, I don’t think he’ll go for it, but at least now, he could buy my half of the business and I have enough clients and almost enough money to start my own operation. And then I’d officially be done with him and I’d be free.

  When we pull up in front of the restaurant, I adjust the slim belt just below my bust line and take a deep breath. Looking out the window, I see my ex-husband looking stylish in his pressed tan Armani pants, pinstripe button-up shirt, and the matching sportcoat. His dark complexion is a gorgeous contrast against the suit. One hand resides in his pocket while the other scrolls through his phone. The man never stops working; it’s where I learned it from. He may be a horrible husband but he’s one amazing businessman.

  Paying the cabbie, my black Miu Miu Peep-toe heels hit the pavement. Standing up, I hold on tightly to my Dolce & Gabbana black and white lace handbag. His blue eyes meet mine and he flashes a million dollar smile full of perfectly straight teeth. I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress and quickly smile back. Despite all the horrible things he’s done to me in the past, I have to play nice.

  Slipping his phone into his pocket, he walks toward me, holding out his hand. His left hand takes mine and he leans forward, kissing my cheek. “You’re late, Amelia,” he scolds me like a child.

  I return the cheek kiss and try to take my hand back but he holds on to it. I don’t fight him; I have a bigger battle to push for. “Sorry, Ash, I was finishing up a client’s new home before they arrive in town.”

  We head into the Greek restaurant. The food is fabulous and the location is perfect for a discreet meeting. I should know, Asher’s not only brought me here before, but many of his mistresses that the waitresses always confuse me for. His hand moves to the small of my back as he guides me through the restaurant to his favorite table in the corner. The one where you can see anyone entering the establishment but no one can see you. It’s his favorite hideout place.

  We weave between the tight space, tables crammed together so they can seat maximum capacity at fifty diners. Through tight spots, Asher moves both his hands to my waist and my body starts to tingle. I hate the way my body betrays me with his touch.

  Reaching our table, Asher waits for me to slide into the booth, which is large enough for six people. Of course, when he slides in, he sits right beside me. I scoot ever so slightly away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice.

  “Something wrong with the ‘Vette?”

  I swallow hard. He knows it’s my baby so I have to be ca
reful. “No, just dropped it off for a tune-up.”

  He studies my face carefully. Luckily, the waitress comes to take our order. As usual, Asher orders for both of us then turns to me as she leaves. His hand moves to my neck and I tense slightly as he flicks my pearl and diamond droplet earrings with his finger. He moves his head close to mine and whispers, “Looking beautiful as ever tonight, my Amelia.”

  I quickly lean away and look at him. “I’m not yours any more, Asher. Remember that thing that happened two years ago? Our divorce?”

  Asher leans back, his arm hovering above me as it rests on the booth behind us. He takes a sip of his wine. “If that’s what you want to think, sweetheart.”

  My skin gets goose bumps at his tone. Sitting up taller, I decide to bite the bullet. Reaching into my purse, I pull out an envelope with the contract my lawyer drafted. “Asher, we need to talk about our business. I think it’s time we officially split ways, personally and professionally.”

  Asher raises his eyebrow again as he takes the envelope from me. I bite my lip to keep from smiling as he opens it and begins to read through the papers. He’s actually considering it! He’s on the last page of the document when our food arrives. Without saying a word, he sets the papers beside him and begins eating his mydia saganaki.

  Finishing his first bite of mussel, he looks at me. “Are you going to eat?”

  Like an obedient child, I nod and put my spoon into my fakes. Taking a bite, I can barely swallow I’m so nervous. Instead of eating, I push my spoon around in the bowl. Asher enjoys his meal making small talk about anything and everything except my proposal.

  Finally, I interrupt him. “What do you think?”

  He stares at me blankly. “About what?”

  I set my spoon down, narrowing my eyes. “The proposal.”

  Asher cracks open another mussel. “I’m not interested.”

  Anger rushes throughout my body and I speak in a loud whisper to keep from shouting, my voice cracking as I say, “Not interested? Asher, that offer is more than generous! You know that you can leave behind Tomko Realty and start your own business with no problem.”

  A grin creeps across his lips and he nods. “You’re right. I could, couldn’t I?”

  “So do it.”

  He shakes his head.

  I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Then buy me out.”

  He pauses a second to think about it then shakes his head no.

  My pulse is beating quickly and I grit my teeth. “Fine then I’ll sell to someone else,” I threaten, although I know it’s not a possibility.

  Asher pushes his plate away from him and turns to me. His hand runs up my leg and slides under my dress before I can stop him. “Amelia, you know that’s not an option. When we started the business, we both wrote into the contract that neither of us can sell out unless it’s to each other.”

  Tears threatened at my eyes but I can’t let him see me cry…again. He’s caused me tears one too many times to count. Besides, the helpless woman act does nothing for this heartless man. With no other option, I begin to plead. “Asher, please…let me move on.”

  His hand moves quickly and grasps my wrist, a hold that I’m all too familiar with. I know better than to twist my arm or try to pull away as it’ll only make the pain and his anger worst. “Here’s the deal, Amelia. You may have ended our marriage, but I will never let you out of this business. You will always be mine.”

  I can’t hold back the tears any more. They spill down my face…tears from frustration, anger, pain. I thought the divorce would end all of that, but Asher’s right, he will always claim me. I should’ve known there will be no escaping him…ever.

  CHAPTER 12

  Mia

  Yet again, I spent another sleepless night over my ex. Feeling defeated, I drag myself out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts and a long-sleeve Under Armour shirt. With a cup of coffee in one hand and my running shoes in the other, I head to my back deck. The sun hangs low in the sky casting bright rays of orange, yellow, and red over the ocean. I should move, get away from him. Start over.

  Dropping into the couch by the fire pit, I sigh and set the coffee down. There won’t be any starting over unless I want to pull a Julia Roberts circa Sleeping with the Enemy. My shoelaces tied tightly, I lean back up and bring the mug to my lips, enjoying the aroma first then taking a long sip.

  Closing my eyes, I remind myself that Tate arrived in town last night. He was more than excited to drive my car but I could tell he was disappointed when I told him to keep it for the evening. I was too upset to be around anyone; I didn’t even want to be around myself after dinner.

  Blinking my eyes open, I shake my head. Asher may not let me go professionally but he’s not my husband anymore and I’m not going to let him ruin anything I have with Tate. My arms stretch over my head as I stand up and sway side to side. Holding the movement for a few seconds on each side, I lean over to work out my tight hamstrings. I have Tate now. Upside down and touching my toes, I smile. I like that. I have Tate now…and he’ll protect me.

  I swallow, hoping Tate will never find out about my past and never have to protect me. He has a son and I can’t handle the thought of ever putting either of them in danger. Part of me feels like my infertility was a blessing, as I’d never want my abusive ex-husband near any child of mine.

  My ears perk up when I hear a low wolf-whistle behind me. Still facing down, I look between my legs and see Tate on my deck in a pair of running pants and a t-shirt. Quickly standing, the blood rushes back to my face and I get a little dizzy. Luckily, Tate is right beside me and grabs my waist.

  “Mmm, I love that sight,” he teases and gives me a quick kiss, patting my backside as he does.

  All of my emotions mix together and I feel tears in my eyes. Throwing my arms around his neck, I squeeze him tightly, not wanting to let go. Tate’s arms move to my waist and he pulls me closer.

  “Mia, is everything okay?” he asks as he leans back and inspects my face.

  I laugh and wipe at a stray tear. “Yes, I just missed you and…I can’t believe you’re here…for good,” I answer, which isn’t a total lie. I did miss him and I am happy he’s here, but it’s not the cause of my tears. The sunrise reminds me what time it is. “What are you doing here?”

  He smiles and leans his forehead against mine. “I figured you’d be up early for a run and was going to use the excuse to bring the ‘Vette back, but honestly, I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. And that car… wow! You can easily do top speeds and not even realize. It rides so smooth.”

  My heart skips at his admission, but I laugh and nod with the last part of his statement. “Right? It’s my escape from the real world; lets me get my pulse racing.”

  Tate tilts his head and sucks on my bottom lip. His tongue slips into my mouth, distracting me from his hand that slips under my shirt. When I let out a moan of anticipation, Tate breaks the kiss.

  “Maybe I want to get your pulse racing?” he says with a raised eyebrow and mischievous grin.

  “You definitely do that, but first, a run on the beach before I have to get ready for the day.”

  Tate sticks out his bottom lip, pouting. “But it’s my first day in town and I wanted to spend it with you.”

  Giving him a quick kiss, I take a few steps backward and start jogging toward the ocean. “We’ll have plenty of time to play, don’t worry,” I yell back at him and he runs behind me.

  A quick jog down the beach and back and the smell of salty ocean air has me feeling better about life in general. We both slow to a walk but continue in silence, listening to the tide crashing against the sand. Without saying a word, Tate reaches over and links his fingers with mine. I glance at him and smile then pull our hands up and kiss his.

  He turns to me and pulls me close. My loose hairs blow in my face and Tate pushes them back, a hand on either side of my face. “I know this is still new for both of us and we have so much to learn about each other, but Mia, I’m f
alling…I’m falling hard.”

  I smile and our lips meet. Tate scoops me into his arms and my stomach flutters at the thought of being in bed with Tate again. But instead of heading toward my house, he carries us toward the ocean.

  “Tate, what are you doing?” I ask, slightly panicked.

  He grins. “We need a proper cool down.”

  “In the ocean? It’s freezing!”

  Grasping his neck, a loud, girly scream escapes me and is followed by a giggle as he dunks us both into the freezing cold water. When we surface, his lips touch mine and he moves my legs around his hips. With the touch of his lips, my body goes from shivering to incredibly hot.

  Tate

  Mia’s legs drop and her lips move off mine. My arms reach out for her but she’s already running out of the ocean, giggling, which has more effect on me than it should. Or maybe it’s the way her clothes cling to her body, showcasing every perfect curve that woman has. I jog after her, catching up as she gets to her deck.

  About to open the sliding doors, she turns around wagging her finger, motioning me to come closer. She kicks off her shoes as I meet her in a few quick strides. I capture her lips before she can speak, eliciting that wonderful purr-moan of hers before she leans back against the door.

  “I have to go downtown to volunteer this morning then I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

  My lips move to her neck and in between kisses, I ask, “Where are you volunteering? Maybe I’ll go with you.”

  Hey body tenses and I lean up to look at her, wondering what I said wrong. Her eyes are wide and she chews on her bottom lip. Running my hand down her cheek, I try to ask again. “Mia, where are you helping? I would love to go with you.”

  She shakes her head. “It’s… a shelter. I try to help serve breakfast there on the weekends.”

  My thumb trails over her lip. “Sounds good. I did that back in Milwaukee.”

  She opens her mouth then closes it, not saying anything else.

  “Unless you don’t want me to…”

 

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