Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)

by Melanie Munton

  I think she could have told me about every place she’d ever been to and I would never have gotten bored. Knowing that she’d gotten to see all of that, had been able to live her life so free and vibrant like that, was a relief and filled me with such pride and joy for her.

  I wanted her to see the world. She deserved that and more.

  I just wished that I’d been with her to see it all.

  “Sounds amazing, Kin.”

  She nodded, a wistful smile spread across her face. “It was. I think about that trip all the time. I’d like to go back there someday.”

  I reached over and took her hand in mine. “Then you will.” With me. I didn’t want to freak her out by saying it but I was completely serious. If I had the opportunity to take Kinley there some day, I was going to do it in a heartbeat.

  That was my silent vow to her.

  She turned toward me, the wistful smile gone and in its place was a look of sympathy, which made me wary of whatever she was going to say next. “Can I ask you something?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I answered, praying it wasn’t something that would tear my heart out.

  She hesitated for a second and then asked, “Do you see your parents very often anymore?”

  I was waiting for her to ask about them. As far as I knew, all Kinley ever knew about my home situation when I was growing up was that my father was a drunk and my mom didn’t do much about it. I figured she’d suspected there was some level of abuse involved, but I knew she didn’t know to what extent because not even Clay knew that. And every time she’d tried to ask me about it during our one summer together, I’d always deflected the question and distracted her with kisses.

  I knew that wasn’t going to work anymore.

  If Kinley and I were serious about each other this time around, I had to learn how to open up. I just wasn’t ready to go all the way and reveal everything on this perfect, sunny afternoon at the beach with her. I didn’t want to ruin our mood by laying all of my dysfunctional shit at her feet.

  “I haven’t seen my mom since Christmas and I make sure Sal isn’t there any time I come around. I haven’t seen him in…hell, I don’t even know. It’s been at least four years probably.”

  “Have they ever been to one of your games?” she asked quietly.

  “Once.” My voice was hoarse as I recalled the memory. “One of my Little League games. It was the championship game and I begged them to come. My mom actually looked excited, smiling at me from the stands whenever I looked over at her.”

  Then, my voice changed, becoming hard. “Sal showed up drunk. I didn’t have a very good game that day. I think it was just because I was so nervous that my father had finally come to see me play. I remember I struck out, grounded out, and then flied out. I made some pretty good plays defensively, but he criticized me after the game for not getting a hit. He didn’t come to another one, saying it was a waste of his time if I couldn’t even hit the ball. He wouldn’t let Mom come to another one either.”

  She was quiet, listening to my story as she rubbed her fingers across my open palm soothingly. I heard her sniff and hoped she wasn’t crying for me. I couldn’t look over at her because I didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes. Truthfully, I think I was afraid that I’d get emotional if I saw the way she cared for me, even when my own parents hadn’t.

  “I’m sorry it was like that for you,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

  I tried to shrug but I was laying down and it came out awkward. “I survived. Plus, I had Clay and your family. Your parents did more for me than I had any right to expect. I owe them a lot.”

  When my voice started to crack, I knew it was time to change the subject. I shook my head, forcing the depressing memories out of there. I stood up and brushed the sand off me, offering my hand to Kinley. “I’m hot. Let’s get in the water.”

  She smirked, taking my hand and hopping up. “You just can’t wait to get me wet, can you?”

  Damn, this woman’s mouth was going to get me arrested for public indecency if I wasn’t careful. “Oh, you have no idea, baby.”

  Then, she took off sprinting into the ocean, screaming when I took off after her. I caught her quickly and easily when we were about hip-deep in the water, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her up against me. Her body was already soaked and slippery, so I grabbed her under her ass to maintain a better grip.

  She tried to smack my hands away but I wouldn’t budge. “Parker! We’re in public. There’s kids around. What if someone recognizes you and takes a picture and puts it on the internet or something?”

  I scoffed, tightening my hold around her. “You think I care? Most of what they say about me is all bullshit anyway, so it doesn’t really matter to me what they write at this point. Besides, you’re mine. I can do whatever I want with you, wherever I want to do it.”

  She relaxed and wrapped her arms around me, allowing me to pull her deeper into the water with her legs wrapped around me, similar to how we were positioned last night against the wall of the hotel room.

  “Is that so?” she asked challengingly, smiling in her sassy, cute way. “Do I get a say in this?”

  I shook my head, kneading the cheeks of her ass as I glided through the water. “Nope. So, you better get used to it. Just know that I will always grope you in public. No matter who’s around or how old we are.”

  She laughed, sighing at me. “Such a romantic.”

  “You know it, baby. Now, you might want to brace yourself.”

  Her forehead creased. “For what?”

  I waggled my eyebrows and started lowering us to the water, her eyes widening with realization. She tried squirming away but there was no way she was escaping my clutches. “No, Parker! Don’t you dare!”

  Half a second later, I dove under the cool water, taking her and her cries of outrage with me.

  When we surfaced, we were both laughing hysterically.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kinley

  The doorbell of my apartment rang, followed by a series of incessant knocking. There was only one person who came to visit me at my home who knocked like that. I quickly glanced at the clock on my laptop and was shocked to see that I’d been sitting there for four hours straight, editing photo after photo, saving the best ones to a flash drive and deleting the unusable ones.

  I always lost track of time while I was working.

  Scrubbing my hands down my face and releasing the stiffness from my shoulders, I walked over to my front door and opened it to find Norah standing there with a white paper bag in one hand and a wine bottle in the other, a knowing smile stamped onto her face.

  We hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, so I invited her over tonight for dinner—assuming she picked some up on her way over because I hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping for food. I hadn’t told her anything about how things had changed with me and Parker, but it was evident by her expression that she knew something—or someone—had gone down.

  She stepped through the doorway and planted her feet right in front of me. “Tell me,” she demanded.

  I sighed, my shoulders slumping in defeat. I knew it was futile to try and hide anything from this woman. “I banged him.”

  She let out a loud cheer, raising her wine bottle in her hands as she took off for the kitchen, shoving the bag of Chinese food into my hands.

  “I knew it!” she cheered as she rummaged through my cabinets and took out two wine glasses. “I want details. Now.”

  I went in search of clean plates and silverware, the smell of the food calling to my empty stomach. “Let me at least scarf down some food before I completely lay my love life out for your hearing pleasure.”

  She groaned but helped me divide up the portions of sweet and sour chicken, rice, and eggrolls. “Fine, but eat fast.”

  Twenty minutes later, she’d heard the entire story from when I stayed with him for the wedding, to our little beach rendezvous two weeks ago. By the time I got to our first night in the
hotel, she was sitting on the edge of her seat, chugging down her wine in anticipation.

  “So, when are you seeing him again?” she asked as she poured herself another glass. I might be making up the guest bed tonight.

  “Next week. It’s opening day at Fenway, so I planned a few days to go up there to watch his games.”

  She raised her eyebrows at me and sank back into the sofa, which we’d moved over to as soon as we finished devouring our plates of food. “And is your entire family going to be there?”

  I blew out a breath and leaned my head back on top of the cushion. “I think so. I need to call and make sure, but they usually try to go to opening day every year.”

  “And are you two prepared to tell them about your relationship?” she prompted, but I think she already knew the answer to the question.

  “We aren’t going to tell anyone yet. It’s still new and we don’t want to involve everyone until we’re sure about where it’s going.”

  “Do you know where it’s going? Or know where you want it to go?”

  That was a loaded question. Although if I was being honest with myself, I’d known the answer for a while now.

  I shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “I want to be with him. Long-term and I’m pretty sure he feels the same. We’re just still trying to figure out our schedules and how we’re going to see each other during the season. This is a big change for both of us, so it’s going to take some time and adjusting. I know it won’t be easy, but I’m prepared for that. I just hope that he is, too.”

  She paused for a second and then asked, “You don’t think he is?”

  I looked over at her to see her watching me intently. “I’m not sure. I mean, he’s a baseball player and he’s famous. He may think he wants a girlfriend now, but when he gets back on the road and he has all of these beautiful women throwing themselves at him, he might change his mind.”

  Norah gave me a doubtful look. “I think you need to give him more credit. Sounds to me like he’s been putting in the effort to prove to you that he’s in this for real. I think you need to forget everything that happened between you in the past and start fresh. Give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s older and more mature than the last time you were together. You shouldn’t start this relationship with any preconceived notions.”

  I knew she was right. I was being negative and trying to prepare myself for the worst, hoping that it would protect my heart if a small part of me was ready to be disappointed.

  But I also knew that was doing Parker a disservice.

  “I know. You’re right,” I admitted, sighing and taking another sip of my wine. “This is just still so new, and I wish we could see each other more right now. I miss him.”

  I sounded pathetic, but that’s what love did to you.

  “I’d miss that body, too, if I were you.” I gave her a look and she just laughed, smacking my leg. “I’m just saying. Well done, Kinley.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, too. The man truly was gorgeous.

  “So, I assume you’re going to stay at Parker’s when you go up there next week?” she asked. I nodded and then she asked, “And what are you going to tell your family?”

  “That I’m staying with one of my friends from college.” That was easy enough for them to believe.

  “Won’t they find it odd that you’ve never been to one of his games and now you’re suddenly making it a point to be there?”

  I propped my feet up on the coffee table, luxuriating in the feel of the wine coursing through my limbs and relaxing my muscles. “I’ve always used the excuse that I’m out of town for a photo shoot and can’t make it. I work all the time, all over the place, so it’s not that hard to believe.”

  She gave me a we’ll see expression and walked into the kitchen. I knew exactly what she was doing and wasn’t at all surprised to find a tub of triple chocolate ice cream and two spoons in her hand when she came back into the living room. She didn’t say anything as she handed me my spoon and we dug into the frozen confection.

  We ate in silence for several minutes before Norah spoke up again. “You know you’re going to have to tell them soon, right? Keeping it a secret from everyone is going to get messy. Besides, what if the paparazzi spot you together one day and your picture is plastered all over the internet the next? You don’t want your family finding out about it that way.”

  That was definitely something we had to consider when we were in public together. And I suddenly hated the fact that we were essentially going to have to hide our relationship until we told my family. We had nothing to be ashamed of and I didn’t like the idea of lying to anyone.

  I especially didn’t like the idea of thousands of women all over the country thinking that Parker Cruz was available.

  Because he sure as hell wasn’t.

  “We’re just going to give it a little while longer until we tell them,” I told her. “Just until we get more comfortable with the whole long distance thing. The regular season hasn’t even started yet, so once we get into a good rhythm with that, we’ll come clean with everyone.”

  Come clean, like what we were doing was criminal.

  She seemed satisfied with that answer and nestled deeper into the couch as she grabbed for the TV remote. “You be sure to pass along my number to any of his hot, single teammates, okay?”

  I groaned. “I am not going to wrangle in sex partners for you.”

  She let out a short laugh. “Please. Believe me, you won’t have to do anything except give them my number. I’ll handle everything else myself.”

  I rolled my eyes at her and she grinned from ear to ear, leaning down to drape her arm over my shoulders and squeeze me into her side. “I knew this friendship would pay off for me someday.”

  ##

  Two days later, I was missing Parker something fierce and my fingers had been itching to call him all day. But he was flying back up to Boston today, and we had planned out our whole evening to talk on the phone. So, I just had to be patient.

  Easier said than done.

  I would have loved to have flown up to Boston myself to stay with him for a few extra days before opening day, but I had to get some prints ready for a show at Ryan’s gallery. Plus, I’d been spending hours getting dozens of my photos edited for stock images. I was able to pull in some good money from stock image purchases, so I had to carve out several hours every week to get a good collection of them onto websites.

  Amazingly, I was actually able to find a curbside parking spot right in front of Ryan’s gallery. That, in addition to the fact that I knew I was going to have a good long phone session with Parker tonight, caused me to practically skip into the gallery with my prints.

  “Hey, Paul,” I greeted the receptionist as soon as I walked through the door.

  Paul’s head lifted from his computer screen and he beamed a huge smile at me. He was my age but looked even younger with his baby face and was too adorable for words. “Hey, Kinley! What’s shakin’, sweetcakes?” He glanced down at my outfit and gave a low whistle. “Damn, girl. Don’t you look like sex on a stick. Who did we get our Jimmy Choos out for?”

  I smiled and gave him a little spin. “They needed to breathe a little. I’ve been holed up in my apartment for a week straight and thought that I should actually make an effort today.”

  His look of approval only added to my stellar mood. “Well, dollface, you nailed it.” He seemed to just now notice the prints I held in my hands and he started to clap frantically and try to reach for them. “Ooooo...let me see, let me see! Please tell me some of these are from your Canada shoot. I’ve got this whole new black and white thing going on at my place and some of those snow-capped mountains would fit in perfectly with my theme.”

  I pulled them out of his reach and he gave me a pouty look. “Ah-ah. You know the rule. Ryan sees them first. Is he in?”

  He reluctantly nodded his head and waved his hand. “Yeah, he’s in the back. And when you’re done I want you to look at some bedspreads a
nd tell me which one you think goes best with the color scheme in my bedroom.”

  I chuckled and headed to the back of the studio where Ryan’s office was. Paul’s enthusiasm was always so infectious. You could never be in a bad mood around the guy. Ryan’s door was partially open, so I lightly knocked and eased it open when he gave me permission.

  He stood in front of three large framed paintings that were leaning against his wall, examining them with the expert eye of an art dealer. He turned to me and grinned before fixing his attention back on the works.

  “Hey,” he said. “Come on in.” He ticked his head at me, signaling me to come stand by him.

  I walked over and took in the paintings before me, immediately mesmerized by the dark, swirling colors and aggressive brush strokes the artist used to clearly capture the pain and anguish, and I was also guessing the frustration, that they were feeling. Each painting was that of a young girl, petite and frail, obviously in a heartbreaking state of misery. The images definitely drew you in, making you want to learn what her story was, why she was so devastated.

  “Wow,” I breathed, at a loss for words.

  “I know,” Ryan replied. He crossed his arms and rubbed his forefinger across his upper lip. I’d come to recognize this over time as his thinking face. “What do you think?”

  I was pretty much in awe of what I was looking at. “I think they’re magnificent. Really breathtaking. Are you showing them?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to decide,” he responded, sounding conflicted. “They aren’t usually what I would go for. The artist is new and not well-known. But looking at them, I don’t see how I couldn’t take them.”