“Hey, girl.” Lauren speeds over and wraps an arm around my shoulder. Her strong, musky perfume envelops me like a cloud—all business, no sweetness, much like Lauren herself. “Who the hell shit on your rose parade?”
I shake my head, blinking back tears.
“Hey!” Kendall swoops in from behind and sucks in a breath. “It’s my brother, isn’t it? Did he do something stupid? I’m so going to kill him if he did something stupid.”
“No.” I shake my head. I’m deathly afraid to confess anything to Kendall because it will undoubtedly get back to Morgan. “I swear it’s not him. Really it’s not. It’s me. I’m the one who’s paranoid about things I can’t control. Morgan is far more mellow.” Too mellow, but I keep the commentary to myself. “You know, he goes with the flow. I bet he doesn’t even think about tomorrow, let alone next week. I’m just overreacting.” I pluck a dahlia from the bucket and press my nose deep into its cushioned leaves. No scent, just beauty. I squeeze my eyes tight to stop the tears from flowing.
“Maybe Morgan didn’t do anything”—Lauren rattles my shoulder until I glance up at her—“but does this have anything to do with him?”
A tiny squeal escapes my throat. I never could lie to Lauren.
“Knew it.” Kendall looks pissed to hell and ready to rip his balls off. “Is this because he slept with Molly?”
“Holy shit!” Lauren screams so loud that ten different cashiers run in our direction.
“It’s okay.” I’m quick to wave them off, and then tip my head toward Lauren. “She doesn’t get out much. The flowers are beautiful.” I make crazy eyes at Lauren until she settles back into her skin.
“He slept with Molly?” she says, looking like she’s ready to eviscerate him with her teeth. She’s a good friend in that respect. Lauren wouldn’t hesitate with a homicide if the need arose.
“He did not sleep with Molly.” I over enunciate in an effort to drill home the carnal correction. “Well, technically he did, but that’s not the point. He didn’t have his way with her.” He kept his penis tucked safely in its holster. That’s one weapon he’s only allowed to use with me.
“And did Molly have her way with him?” Kendall asks, careful and slow, as if I might not have considered this option yet.
“No. Thank God nothing happened that night. And, by the way, Molly is a piranha. I don’t care how close the two of you are to being related. She’s cutthroat when it comes to getting what she wants. I’m just glad Morgan escaped with his man parts intact.” I open my mouth to continue my tramp-inspired tirade but Lauren accosts Kendall with her purse before I can get a word out.
“You pushed Ally and Morgan together.” Lauren finishes off by smacking her in the arm.
Kendall tries to respond, flustered, and nothing but air comes out. Lauren seems to have that effect on a lot of people.
“Stop it, both of you.” I toss the flower back into the bucket. “Kendall didn’t push us together. In fact, if you want to get technical, it was all some weird coincidence concocted by the universe.” I flail my hand through the air, at a loss for down-to-earth descriptives. “Do you remember me telling you about that one-night stand that left me high and dry at the beginning of summer?” I stare at them, half afraid to offer up any more info—like the fact sixteen US dollars were exchanged. Or rather, left behind. Nevertheless, a few lattes came from the bonus.
Kendall jumps in horror and presses her hand to her chest. Lauren spends another ten seconds paying tribute to dumbasses everywhere before she, too, lets out a harrowing moan.
“No!” Kendall seems shocked at the prospect of her brother treading into manwhore territory so soon on his visit, and with me of all people.
“Yes,” I assure her. “Most definitely, yes. I was shocked to hell the next day when you brought him over to help me move. Anyway, it’s ancient history.” I chew on my nails for a second. Then without warning I open my mouth and vomit out the entire story—how he caught me when I fell off the stage at Pretty Girls, how infatuated I was with this amazing creature who was like no other man I had ever seen, and then the sixteen dollars he mistakenly left on the table and what I thought it meant.
“Get out!” Lauren shouts. She’s laughing so damn hard she has to cross her legs to keep her bladder from joining in on the funfest. Lauren has a history of pissing her pants on my behalf and for far less humiliating infractions.
“Morgan?” Kendall’s face pales at the thought of our chance encounter. “What the hell possessed you to do that?”
Both she and Lauren stare at me expectantly as they await the dirty deets.
“As soon as I saw all those tats I knew he’d fuck me like a boss.” I avert my eyes at the thought. Okay, so maybe there’s a little truth to that.
They gasp in turn—Lauren far more amused than Kendall.
“Relax. That’s not how it went.” I give a long blink. “Besides, he’s a god, Kendall. A million different women would give their right boob to bed him for a lot less than sixteen dollars.”
“She’s right.” Lauren shakes her head before reverting back to me “He’s a fine specimen and certainly no one is going to fault you for dragging him to the nearest mattress. One-night stands work out all the time.” She gives a circular nod into her lunacy, and it takes a minute for me to deduce that she’s mocking me.
Kendall bites down on her lip. “Well, I almost had a one-night stand with Cruise.”
“And…” Lauren waves her hand in the air as if searching for words. Swear to God if she says she had a one-night stand with Cal I’ll run up and down the aisles and start overturning these happy little flower buckets. I know for a fact she cast one of her dry spells on that poor baldheaded tribute to steroids for a good six months after they met. “I almost had a one-night stand with Cruise,” she teases.
I decide to leave out the part about nearly throwing my own hat into the Elton mattress ring, but that was long before Kendall and well after Blair. “All right”—I link arms with Kendall and Lauren—“so you both almost had a one-night stand with Cruise.” I dab the tears from my eyes. “Anyway, one-night stand or not, I know what Morgan and I have is going to last.” God, I hope it lasts.
“Of course it will.” Lauren forces her brows together as if she’s trying to convince herself. She plucks a stargazer the size of her palm from the bucket, and holds it up as if she were making a toast. “To Morgan and Ally.”
Kendall is quick to do the same and hands me one as well.
“To my big brother and Ally,” she sings.
Lauren presses her lips together and holds back tears as if she were really happy for me. “Though they be few, may you enjoy every moment you have together.”
And there’s that.
She knows our days are numbered, and in my heart, so do I.
My phone vibrates in my jeans and I take a few steps away to see who it is. It’s probably Morgan, and he’s going to make me feel tons better by saying the right thing because that seems to be his gift.
It’s a text from a blocked number.
You better watch your back bitch.
What the hell? I stare at it in disbelief for a minute.
I slip the phone back in my purse and don’t say a word to Lauren or Kendall.
Morgan
The sun rides high and strong overhead like a bucking bronco at the rodeo, drilling its rays in my eyes until they sting. The scent of a freshly mowed lawn swims through the air like the finest perfume, and my hands instinctually want to strangle a bat for the hell of it.
“You got this, man.” Cruise pats me on the back as we watch Garrison’s baseball team, the Gladiators, connect ball to bat just before my walk-on tryout. I fessed up to Cruise like some whipped pussy regarding how I feel about Ally, and what I was going to do to up my odds of staying. I guess I kind of wanted the moral support. The only other alternative was Mom,
and, with it being just days away from her wedding, I didn’t want to bother her.
The guys are hitting the shit out of the ball and the pitcher is blowing some serious smoke. These dudes are beyond good.
“Yeah,” I say doubtfully. “I should have probably warmed up. But I got this.”
I watch as guy after guy launches the ball across the field in long, easy strides, as if the bat had somehow morphed into a missile launcher.
On second thought, I’m not so sure I got this. In fact, those balls may as well be flying to Oregon, the way they’re knocking them out of the park. Maybe I’m not that great. Maybe the team back home was mediocre at best, and I’ve been happily clueless all along.
Fuck. Looks like I’m about to be laughed off the field. There goes the chance of having some weepy-eyed happily ever after with Ally.
My phone buzzes.
It’s Paige.
My entire body freezes, and I stare at the phone for an inordinate amount of time.
“I’d better take this.” I pick up and walk toward the chain-link fence. “Hello?”
“Morgan?” Paige’s voice chirps from the other end of the line.
“Yeah, what’s going on?” A million scenarios run through my mind. Maybe she changed her mind and had the test anyway?
“I had the baby.”
My heart sinks like a cinder block.
“You what?” My throat constricts at the idea, cutting off my vocal cords right along with my balls. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“Everything’s fine. I thought I felt a cramp, and it turned out it was baby time.”
My blood runs cold. She knew I wanted to be there for the birth, at least in the next room.
“He’s six weeks early. They had to put him in the incubator, but they say he’ll be fine. I guess stuff like this happens all the time.”
“I’ll get on the next flight out,” I offer.
The coach blows his whistle in my direction and waves me over.
Shit.
“No,” she protests. “You don’t have to do that. I’ve already had both him and Clint tested. We should know on Saturday,” she says that last part quietly. I’m pretty sure it’s not me she’s rooting for.
“Saturday.” I nod stupidly into the phone.
“Jordan!” The coach roars my name out like a warning. “You want this or not?”
“The baby,” I whisper. “So it’s a boy, huh?”
“A beautiful boy. He’s got a gorgeous head of dark hair. It’s hard to believe he’s mine.” Paige is a redhead whose entire body glows like a warning light. Clint’s got dark brown hair so it could go either way. “Take care, okay?” she whispers, as if she’s trying to soften the blow. “I’ll call you as soon as I know the results.”
“Got it. Take care of yourself and the baby.” A boy. That could be my boy, my son.
I hand the phone to Cruise and jog over to home plate, my head spinning with the paternal possibilities.
The baby is here.
I pick up a bat and give a few solid swings to warm up. The pitcher launches one in my direction, and I jump out of the way.
Shit. It was good. I just overreacted.
If I have a baby in Oregon it’s going to make it near impossible for me to relocate to Massachusetts. And I wouldn’t dream of asking Ally to move to Oregon. She has Ruby. She needs to be near her sweet little girl.
I miss the next ball, nothing but air. Almost threw my back out trying to connect with that one.
Fuck.
The pitcher eyes the coach as if to ask if this is for real.
“It’s for real, asshole,” I whisper.
The ball comes at me like a comet and I swing—then like a dream I hear that lovely sound every baseball player wants to hear as the ball and bat connect. I watch as the ball flies twice as far as I’ve seen it go all afternoon. It sails into the reaches of the blue expanse until it’s nothing but a speck on the horizon.
“Good show!” Cruise calls out while a few of the guys offer a spontaneous round of applause.
It would have been a home run—just like Ally and me.
The Elton House Bed and Breakfast is playing host to Mom’s nuptial rehearsal. The lawn is rolling and lush, decorated with flower petals the girls picked up this afternoon. It looks like someone dumped a box of Trix cereal all the way down to the altar if you ask me, but pretty nonetheless. My stomach’s been going off for the last two hours and I’ve been seeing food in everything because I haven’t eaten jack shit since I got that phone call.
I hook my arm through Mom’s and walk her down the aisle, as I’ve been prone to do with the exception of the time or two she eloped, but my eyes migrate over to Ally. She’s sitting off to the side, her long creamy legs crossed over one another. She’s so damn beautiful. I could never expect her to sit around and wait for me while I finish up school.
Kendall and Cruise stand under the lattice arch where the wedding coordinator belts out demands like some sexed-up dominatrix.
I walk Mom over to Andrew, who looks more than enamored by my mother in her svelte black dress. She looks more “merry widow” and less “blushing bride” but who knows? This could be a twofer—the guy looks far more aged than any of her other suitors.
“Okay!” The wedding coordinator claps. “It’s a wrap.”
I head over to Ally and we take a walk in the direction of a weeping willow.
“That was the second time I received applause today.” I dot her lips with a kiss. Ally smells like a rose, like an entire floral boutique, and I always want to remember her like this. “How come you don’t clap for me in bed?” I go for humor but miss by a mile and end up sounding like some depressed teenage girl who wonders why no one likes her.
“Did someone clap for you in bed today?” She pulls me in by the back of the neck and licks the periphery of my lips as a token of her lewd affection. “You said that was the second time.”
Crap.
“Did I say that?” Perfect. First I have a son in another state and now I almost blow the surprise I was hoping to knock her socks off with—my baseball tryout. Not that I know I’m the father—not that I know if I have anything to knock her socks off with. The coach said he’d review some online footage I sent over and get back to me. Looks like I’m all about the questions today.
“Hey.” She hooks me tenderly by the chin and turns me toward her. “Everything okay? You seem kind of lost.”
“You’re with me. How can I not be okay?” I glance over her shoulder at the brimming buffet. It’s finally starting to smell like food out here and rumor has it there’s a steak with my name on it. “I got the call today.” My eyes fill with tears as soon as I say it, and I blink them back. Shit. The last thing I want to do is cry like a schoolgirl.
“The call?” She looks perplexed for a moment. Her pale eyes squint at me just before her perfect bowtie mouth opens as the realization sets in. “Oh, God. What did she say?” Ally pulls me deeper into the property, away from prying ears.
“She said she’ll know on Saturday.” There. It felt good to lance the wound and get it out. I would have gone insane trying to keep this from Ally. “She had the baby early. She said he’s doing fine.”
“A boy.” She mouths the words as she twirls her fingers through my hair. There’s so much sorrow on her face, clouded with a touch of joy. That, in a nutshell, is exactly how I feel. “Guess what, Jordan?”
“What?” I’m almost afraid to ask.
“I’m not leaving your side once on Saturday. When that phone rings, I’ll be right there with you.”
I pull her in and wrap my arms around her so tightly it feels as if I’m about to push through.
I want to tell her I never want her to leave my side, but I don’t. The truth is the entire girth of the country could clog the distance between
us soon. And I’m not quite sure I can stop it from happening.
Can I?
After the festivities, I head over to the club to set up the bar and mark the cards to ensure I win every fucking hand tonight. I think I’ve seasoned the bad boys of Massachusetts enough into believing I’m a mediocre player at best. It’s time to make a few corrections.
I asked Ally to catch a ride over with Cruise and Kendall so we could drive home together but really that flat tire and that dead rodent on her car have me more than a little on edge, and I don’t want her alone. It’s just too many mishaps in too short a span. Either God hates that Honda or there’s a jealous rage brewing in the background that’s about to turn explosive.
The lights are on down the hall in the blue room—the Poker Room. I had the bulbs in each room replaced to match its mood—red for sex on heels, and blue for don’t look so down when I steal all of your fucking money.
Great. I must have forgotten to flip the switch off last night. I’m pretty sure that qualifies Cal to yank some more cash out of my ass.
The faint scent of perfume startles my senses. Nice. I’d think maybe it was left over from last night, but I’m starting to get hopeful that I’ll find Ally ready and willing to give me a lucky hand.
I widen the door and a blonde in a trench coat spins on her bright-red heels—Blair.
She drops her coat. Her pale, bony body is naked as the day she was born.
“You’re welcome,” she says before lunging at me and diving her tongue straight down my throat.
Someone Like You Page 21
