Then, I heard someone move closer to me and tap my shoulder. “Hey, kid.”
I finally looked up and saw a kid who looked about my age with black hair and a baseball bat in his hands. I looked over his shoulder to see a big guy standing behind him, watching us with a small smile on his face. Maybe he was his dad?
“I said, do you want to play with us?”
Then, I noticed he had a baseball in his other hand. I knew what baseball was. Dad watched it on the TV a lot, and I knew that he used to play it when he was younger. I had seen pictures of him in his uniform and Momma used to tell us that he was a really good player, back before things got bad.
But I didn’t know how to play.
Dad never taught me.
And because I didn’t want this kid to make fun of me like all the other kids at school did, I shook my head. “No. It’s okay. I’m just going to sit here.”
He frowned but didn’t immediately walk away. “Okay. Well, my dad and I are going to play over there,” he said and pointed to a grassy area behind him. “If you change your mind, you can use one of our gloves.”
He smiled at me and then ran back to his dad. I wasn’t used to kids being nice to me and definitely not used to asking me to play with them. Most kids avoided me so I avoided them. I had to admit that I’d always wanted to learn how to play baseball—maybe if I did, Dad could be proud of me and not be so mad all the time—so I watched the two of them. I watched the dad throw the ball at the kid, the kid swinging the ball and hitting it, and the dad chasing after it.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there and watched them, but I eventually reminded myself to be brave. So, I got up and slowly walked in their direction. The kid saw me and waved me over to them, smiling during my whole way over.
“Do you know how to play?” he asked.
I hung my head in shame, shaking my head and remaining silent.
“That’s okay. We’ll teach you. It’s not hard.” My head snapped back up when he didn’t tease me. He was walking back to a bag on the ground and took out a glove, handing it over to me. “Here. You can use my old glove. What’s your name?”
Taking the glove from him and slowly putting it in my hand felt good somehow. I looked back at him tentatively. “Parker.”
He nodded and smiled again. I didn’t know anyone who smiled so much. The only time we smiled at home was when we were making up games in the bedroom the three of us shared.
“I’m Clay.” He turned to his dad as he put on his own glove. “Hey, Dad! Parker’s going to play with us!”
So, they showed me how to throw the ball, how to catch it in my glove. They taught me how to hold the baseball bat and how I should swing it to hit the ball. The more they showed me, the more excited I got. I knew this wasn’t all there was to it. I knew there were teams and they played on a big field and you had to run around the bases and everything.
But it was fun.
For the first time in I didn’t know how long, I was having fun just to have fun and not to avoid my fighting parents.
The rest was history for us after that day. Clay and Sam picked me up regularly to work on baseball with me, and I eventually started playing on his Little League teams with him. As we got older, we started playing in traveling leagues and then started varsity together all four years of high school. The miracle was when we were both offered athletic scholarships to play at the University of Virginia. I had moved from shortstop to third basemen, and Clay was our star pitcher.
It was a miracle because I honestly don’t know if I would have went to college without that scholarship.
I owed a lot to the Mastersons. Sam and Diane were like the parents I always wanted. Stable, supportive, loving parents. Clay was basically a third brother to me, but he was also my best friend. I could talk to him about things that I couldn’t always discuss with Dawson and Mason.
And then there was Kinley.
Our relationship had been complicated for a while, that was for sure, but it hadn’t always used to be. When Clay started inviting me over to his house on a regular basis when we were kids, I had looked at Kinley as the little sister I never had. Back then, she had been this bubbly little dark-haired girl with bright green eyes who had honestly freaked me out at first with her outgoing personality. I hadn’t been around kids like her with so much energy, and I was wary of her for a while, simply because I didn’t know how to deal with her.
When I started coming out of my shell, though, and opened up more to their family, I became more comfortable with everyone, including Kinley. I started treating her like a sister, as much as Clay treated her like one, because she really had felt like one to me. I’d felt the need to tease her as much as I had the sense to protect her.
Then, things changed as we got older. Adolescence tends to bring about a lot of confusing emotions in anyone and it sure did for me and I think her, too. We fought a lot, Kinley and I, as any brother and sister would.
But then one day when she was in eighth grade and I was a senior in high school, it suddenly struck me how beautiful Kinley was. That reaction had totally scared the shit out of me and shamed me all at the same time. I had been four years older than her and was disgusted at myself for thinking such thoughts about my best friend’s little sister.
Over the next few years, our relationship transformed into something I would have never expected. She had come to mean more to me than anything else in the world.
And then I threw it all away.
Because I’d thought I was being noble.
The Fourth of July was the first time I had been near her in years. I wasn’t sure how, but she had always been able to avoid me at holidays when I was able to come around, leaving town before I ever made it in. So, when I saw her that night, when I stayed under the same roof as her for the first time since I left her, everything had come pouring out of me.
It hadn’t gone well.
Stupidly, I pushed her. Forced her into talking about something she wasn’t ready to face yet, or something she wanted to leave completely behind her.
It had knocked me back about five steps from where I wanted to be in operation “Winning Kinley Back.”
Clay’s election results party in November hadn’t helped either.
Why I’d thought that making her jealous by flirting with every available woman within a twenty-foot radius was a good idea, I had no fucking clue. Jealousy wasn’t useful unless you already had something a little more solid with that person. You didn’t have to fully claim someone, but there had to be at least an inkling of it for the jealousy to work in your favor.
To give the other person a reason to confront you about it.
Otherwise, as I quickly found out, it just hurts them, making the whole situation worse.
And that was the last thing I wanted to do to Kinley.
So, my new plan was to just take it slow and easy with her. Start over, in a sense, and just be friends for a while. We would never go back to that brother-sister relationship—ever—but we could hang out and talk like friends, catch up on each other’s lives. There didn’t have to be pressure.
If I wanted her to be mine, I needed a clean slate with her.
I had to lay a new foundation for our relationship and show her that she could trust me. That I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I clearly didn’t know what I was doing in the relationship department and didn’t totally understand women, outside of their bedroom preferences. Kinley was the first woman I had ever wanted anything serious with, so I was a novice at this whole dating-relationship thing.
But I needed her to give me that second chance.
I would do a better job this time, I could be the man she needed me to be. I had to show her that.
She’d wanted me once. I could make her want me again.
When I was finally able to find my balls again, I got out of my truck and headed for the front door, bracing myself for the hard eyes and death glares I knew she would be throwing my way, much to the ignorance of
everyone else.
Knowing I never needed to knock at this house, I let myself in and was blasted with the scent of Diane’s cinnamon candles. That’s the smell of home. The living room was empty and though I could hear low voices in different parts of the house, I couldn’t see anyone.
“Hey, where is everyone?”
Two seconds later, Diane came fluttering out of the kitchen in her apron with that smile she always had for me on her face. “Parker! It’s so good to see you, dear!”
I wrapped my arms tightly around my adopted mother, squeezing as I carefully balanced the dish I held in the other hand. “Good to see you, too.” I extended the food out to her. “Hashbrown-potato casserole from Mickie. She said just warm it up in the oven and you’re good to go.”
“Oh, that sweetheart. She didn’t need to do that.” But she took the dish from me as Gwen came out of the kitchen.
Clay’s girlfriend was gorgeous and he should be damn proud. I really wasn’t sure how he had handled that mess with her ex. Personally, I didn’t know how I would feel or what I would do if some asshole had put his hands on Kinley like that. When she was in high school, I’d beaten the shit out of some prick just for spreading rumors about her.
Clay had gotten through the ordeal without killing the guy, though. Barely.
I think he had more control than I would have.
“Hey, Parker,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Back off my girl, Cruz,” came Clay’s voice from the hallway, “and go get your own.”
Working on it.
But surprise! It’s your sister.
“Just seeing if she’d gotten bored of you yet,” I said, smiling and giving him a quick hug. “I think there’s still hope for me.”
Clay rolled his eyes and punched me lightly on the shoulder, and I could see Gwen blush out of the corner of my eye.
“Just because you’re a famous ball player, don’t think I won’t mess up that pretty face.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “You can’t touch the merchandise, man.” I pointed at my face. “This is the moneymaker.”
Again, he rolled his eyes but smiled.
“Di, we need another plunger!”
I looked around, waiting for an explanation, and everybody’s faces were expressionless. Diane caught my gaze. “He’s re-modeling the bathroom,” she deadpanned.
Well, that explained it.
Knowing that it probably looked like a warzone in there, I decided to wait to say hi to Sam until he didn’t have a wrench or hammer in his hands.
And I couldn’t help but notice that one particular person wasn’t in the room. I was hesitant, but not asking about her would have been weird of me.
“Where’s Kinley?”
“Oh, she ran to the store for some marshmallows,” Diane replied. “I could have sworn I had another bag. And Sam will have a fit if he doesn’t have his sweet potatoes.”
At least she wasn’t upstairs in her room, avoiding me. Yet.
That was when headlights from the driveway shone through the front windows. “That should be her now,” Gwen said, looking out the window.
Okay, here we go.
Slow and easy. Like old friends.
Old friends who used to make out.
Not helpful.
The door opened behind me, so I turned around and there she was.
That perfectly slim yet curvy body, that long chocolate-brown hair with caramel highlights, those sparkling green eyes that I could stare into all day, every day, that bow-shaped mouth and full lips—my favorite of her physical characteristics—that felt like paradise when they touched mine.
That frozen expression on her face as she looked at me that sent me crashing back to reality and reminding me exactly what we were to each other. And what we weren’t.
“Hey, Kinley.”
“Hi, Parker.” Her voice was soft and quiet.
And unsure.
I hated that.
Not wanting to arouse suspicion and hoping she went along with it, I leaned down to hug her. I didn’t wrap my arms all the way around her, though I desperately wanted to, and her arms barely grazed my waist. Her body was stiff as a board.
I hated that, too.
I had a long road ahead of me.
Chapter Five
Kinley
Why did he have to look better every time I saw him?
I knew when he was supposed to get to the house. That trip to the grocery store had been my opportunity to delay the inevitable just a little longer. And, of course, my body reacted the same way it always did when I saw him.
My heart beat faster.
My pulse quickened.
Heat washed over me as if I had just stepped into a sauna.
Apparently, my mind was the only part of me that was still annoyed with the gorgeous baseball player who still starred in all of my dreams. My body obviously didn’t care about that; it still wanted him. But that wasn’t going to happen. That was just asking for trouble, and our relationship was much too complicated and sensitive to even consider the possibility that there could ever be casual sex between us.
To me, it had never been casual. It had never been just a fling.
To me, every touch meant more. Every kiss was seared into my memory.
To me, it had been the beginning of the future I wanted, with the man I had always longed for.
To him, it had been temporary.
To him, it had been fun, a way of filling up his time. Maybe an exciting game to him, since we had been keeping it a secret from everyone.
To him, it had been nothing worth developing feelings over.
We had one summer together and it had been everything I’d hoped it would be. Until he left. It was hard not to let those perfect afternoons spent with him that summer be tainted by his abandonment at the end of it. It was hard to not look back and say Oh, see? That kiss wasn’t what you thought. It didn’t mean anything to him so why should it have meant anything to you?
Despite all of my efforts not to, that’s what my mind contemplated during dinner. I masked it by talking about my recent photo shoots, especially the one I had just finished in Canada. Clay talked about how things were in the mayoral office, and Gwen shared stories from her experiences with the One Heart One Hand Foundation that she and Clay started together. And Parker talked about his plans in the off-season, the changes happening with the Red Sox, and how next season was looking for them. That had been hard, hearing about the details of his life and knowing I was no longer a part of it. Not in the sense that I had a right to the intimate details.
I missed hearing about some of that, too, because I had always loved watching him play ball.
I went to every one of his and Clay’s high school games and never could take my eyes off of him, though I was sure everyone just assumed I was being a supportive younger sister.
I went to a couple of their games at UVA after we ended things and quickly realized how difficult it was seeing him after everything. So, I never went back and used my school or work as an excuse.
I hadn’t been to a single one of his major league games.
A huge part of me wanted to feel guilty for that. Because regardless of our secret—albeit brief—relationship years ago, we had essentially grown up together. We had went through a lot and shared a lot before we ever became intimate with each other. Even if we had never touched or kissed or snuck around, he would still mean the world to me, and I had always supported him.
In fact, that was one of the things he had liked about me the most, he used to say. How much I supported his baseball career, how much I admired him for chasing his dreams, and how much I encouraged him to never give up.
He’d encouraged my dreams, too.
He had told me to pursue photography if it was what made me happy.
He had probably been the most influential person in my life when it came to choosing my career path.
I
would like to think that I still would have discovered my passion without him. But I could also admit that he had certainly been instrumental in my ambitions to become a photographer.
After dinner, I needed a break from him and everything he reminded me of, so I ran up to my old bedroom and locked myself in it for a few minutes.
But it only took those few minutes to recall the first time I realized that I liked Parker as more than my big brother’s best friend. I had been eight years old and Parker twelve.
Judy Bloom was so funny. She reminded me of Lucy from “I Love Lucy.” Mom liked that show and Judy Bloom got herself into as much trouble as Lucy did.
I was in my room, reading my new Judy Bloom book, when I heard the front door open downstairs and the sound of boys’ voices carried up to my open door.
I smiled.
That was probably Clay and Parker. Parker came over all the time now. Had dinner with us a lot and often stayed the night. I liked Parker. He teased me like Clay sometimes, but he was never really mean about it. Plus, I liked his smile. I decided to go down there and see what they were doing. They would probably tell me to go away, that I was being an annoying little sister, always trying to tag along with them.
I walked downstairs and found them running around the first floor, Parker with a Nerf football in his hands and Clay chasing him.
“I touched you!” Clay shouted.
“Two hands!” Parker yelled back. “You only got me with one!”
I watched them as they laughed and then started throwing the ball around the room. Next to all of Mom’s picture frames and vases and all of the other breakable stuff.
“Hey! Mom said you can’t play ball in the house,” I told them.
Both of their heads whipped around in my direction, and it was the first time they even noticed I was in the room. “What are you going to do about it?” Clay asked with a sneer. “Tell on us? Are you a tattle tale?”
“Mom will be mad if you break something. You’ll get in big trouble.”
“And where is Mom?”
“She’s down the street, talking to Mrs. Hannah. Mom wanted to check in on her after she fell last week.”
Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) Page 5
