“Yeah,” Andrew said, snapping a few pictures. “Baseball. Against the Big Hotel.”
“Sweet,” I muttered, my eyes darting to the opposing team’s dugout. Sure enough, the pristine white uniforms of the Big Hotel’s staff were visible from here as the players got settled. The Big Hotel—technically named the Ottawa, but no one local ever called it that—was, obviously, the biggest hotel on the island. It was also the fanciest. Set on a high bluff far above the town with breathtaking views of the bay, the Ottaway was a five-star, full spa, concierge-included kind of place. And since that level of style is apparently difficult to sustain on an island like Lilac Bay, the hotel did a good amount of their seasonal hiring on the mainland. It was a huge object of contention amongst the islanders—all of those shiny-haired, perfectly-dressed mainlanders showing up on the Big Hotel’s private ferry every morning, leaving every night. They never shopped in any of the local stores, never ate in any of our restaurants. Even worse, they took up good jobs that the people of this island desperately needed.
To say there were hard feelings was an understatement.
“You look like you’re about ready to dance on their graves,” Andrew pointed out, and I grinned at him.
“That obvious?”
He laughed. “You’re not the only one.” He nodded towards the stands, and immediately I could see what he meant. Our games usually attracted a fair amount of attention—it’s not like Lilac Bay was known for its evening entertainment—but tonight the stands were already filled, ten minutes before we were set to start. Jerry Brooks was walking around, passing out tin-foil wrapped hotdogs from a box while the local Brownie troop was hawking lemonade on the edge of the field.
“Pretty festive atmosphere,” a voice that sounded awfully like Andrew’s said.
I turned to see his twin, Edward, along with his boyfriend, Zane, approaching.
“Everyone’s excited to see us kick a little outsider ass,” I said, pointing at the dugout.
Zane slid his sunglasses—definitely designer, probably cost more than my entire wardrobe—down his nose so he could peer over at the opposing team, and gave a little shudder. “I’m so glad I’m not one of them anymore.”
“Because you played so much baseball when you worked at the Big Hotel?” Andrew asked skeptically.
“No, but I was still associated with them. And that was bad enough.”
Edward slung an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You’re fully one of us now, babe.”
Andrew opened his mouth and I stepped down on his foot in warning. He liked to remind Zane that he was not, in fact, a true islander, having come here right along with the other mainland recruits to work in the Big Hotel. But he had fallen for Edward pretty much at first sight, and had moved to the island permanently only a few months later. We had a rule around here—if you could make it through a full winter, you could officially call yourself a permanent resident. Andrew generally believed in that sentiment, but the opportunity to give his twin a hard time was too great an inducement to ignore.
“How’s the restaurant?” I asked the boys. Last summer they had reopened their grandparent’s old place, Rose’s, and had been serving some of the island’s very best food ever since.
“Not bad,” Edward said, grinning. “Business is up almost forty percent from last month.”
“Which has nothing to do with the fact that the bay was still half frozen last month and the ferry was barely running,” Zane said, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, we’re kicking ass,” Edward argued.
“Speaking of kicking ass,” Andrew said, slipping his camera into his duffel bag and pulling out a mitt. “We should probably get over to the bench.”
Edward and Zane followed us across the field.
“Just look at those white pants,” Edward muttered. “Who do they think they are?”
“Stuck-up, snotty, too-good-for-all-of-us losers?” I suggested, making the boys laugh.
“Starting the trash talk a little early, aren’t you, Ri?”
I turned to see my former roommate Jenny approaching our bench, all smiles, and immediately felt a flash of guilt.
Jenny was one of the sweetest people on the island, and, unfortunately for her, one of the most innocent, too. Despite our general hatred of the place, none of us liked to make fun of the hotel in her presence—namely because her family owned it.
“So who’s the big loser tonight?” she asked.
Shit. I shot an uncomfortable look at Andrew, who appeared in no hurry to help me. “The Big Hotel, actually,” I told her brightly, hoping I could make light of it. “We’re going to crush them, just like we crushed the Elks Club last week.”
Jenny’s eyes shot over to the opposing bench, a flicker of embarrassment flashing across her face. “I’ve told them over and over again that those uniforms look stupid,” she muttered.
Jenny’s grandparents owned the Big Hotel, as had her great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents, a long line of Hillmans holding the most valuable property on the island for more than a hundred years. Which meant that Jenny’s family was seriously, seriously rich. And that wasn’t the easiest position to be in on this island.
“I think the uniforms are kind of classy,” Zane offered, and I smiled at him gratefully. It wasn’t Jenny’s fault no one liked her family’s employees.
“I think yours look much better,” she said quickly, her eyes flickering down to the T-shirts the twins and I were wearing. They were a bright mustard yellow and emblazoned with not-quite-straight letters spelling out our sponsor’s name. Unfortunately, Fran’s Fine Fudge and Treats hadn’t fit, and the T-shirt guy had made the rather unfortunate executive decision to just call us Fudge. Definitely not the best looking uniforms on the planet. She met my eyes, blushing a little, and I felt even worse for letting her hear me bashing the hotel. Jenny was sensitive about it, had been since we were little kids, and always seemed more than a touch desperate to distance herself from her relatives and be considered one of the gang.
“Hey, you up for drinks at Cora’s later?” Andrew asked her. “The whole team is going, win or lose.”
Her resulting smile took up her whole face. “I’d love to!”
“Come on.” Zane slipped an arm through hers. “Looks like they’re getting ready to start. Why don’t you come sit with me and we can gossip about all the cute boys.”
“I’m standing right here,” Edward muttered.
“Thank you for that,” I said to Andrew, once Jenny and Zane had headed off for the stands.
He shook his head. “Don’t thank me, it was purely selfish. I just couldn’t stand that hurt puppy look on her face anymore.”
I scowled, but he held my gaze without flinching. Okay, so sometimes Jenny did look a little like a hurt puppy. But that wasn’t her fault. She was sensitive, that was all. Sensitive, and maybe a little—flakey. But she was a good friend and she’d given me a place to live when my options were severely limited. For that she had my unending loyalty.
“Well, you made her happy and I appreciate it.”
The corners of Andrew’s lips curved up a little, almost a smile, and then he shoved his hat down over his forehead. “No problem.”
“Alright team, listen up!” David Jenkins called from the front of the dugout, and the noise level immediately dropped. Hell, half the crowd in the stands also ceased talking. David just had that kind of effect on people. Tall, painfully handsome, and a life-long islander who had been playing for the Rec League since he was a kid, David was respected by just about everyone on Lilac Bay. And lusted after by more than half of us, despite the fact that he was currently dating Andrew’s cousin, Iris.
“I know we all want nothing more than to pull out a win against the mainlanders today,” he continued, and the bench erupted in cheers—joined by more than a few people in the stands. “But let’s play a good, clean game. Show them what the real people of Lilac Bay are all about.” More cheers.
“I should have bee
n taping that,” Andrew muttered in my ear. “Talk about your pro-Lilac Bay propaganda.” His eyes scanned the stands and his face settled into a scowl. “Look at them all just eating it up,” he said, loud enough for his brother to hear.
Edward gave his twin a wicked grin. “You’re still pissed because he beat you in the Island’s Sexiest Man contest last summer.”
“Give me a break,” Andrew scoffed. “You think I wanted to win that damn thing? It’s demeaning.”
“Then how come you get salty every time it’s his turn to coach?”
“Shut up,” Andrew muttered, pulling his hat down farther over his forehead. Edward and I made eye contact, both snickering, while Andrew very determinedly gave David his undivided attention.
“Okay, we’re up to bat first so here’s our order.” He pointed at me. “Riley, I want you leading off.”
There was a general outburst of cheers, wolf whistles, and a few taunts from my teammates. I took my hat off and waved it at them, bowing.
“Edward, you’ll take the number two spot.” David went through the list, assigning the batting order. I could feel Andrew tense up a little when David announced that he himself would be batting last, the clean-up position—Andrew’s favorite.
“Definitely still salty,” I muttered in his ear. Andrew flicked my hand.
“If you’re not careful, I won’t cheer for you,” he muttered.
“Yeah, right.” I grabbed the batting helmet and my bat and headed out towards home plate, taking a few practice swings as I went. The crowd of locals on the stands behind me cheered as Posey Conley, one of the twins' other cousins, announced my name over the PA system.
I could hear Jenny and Zane chanting my name, and I gave them a little wave, twirling around when I reached home plate. “Find some dignity, woman,” Andrew shouted above the noise. I blew him a kiss and he groaned loudly. I laughed, taking my place at the plate and facing the pitcher.
He was tall and impeccably groomed, looking, as so many of the staff at the Big Hotel did, like he had just stepped out of the pages of a men’s magazine. Seriously, where did Jenny’s grandparents find these people? He leaned down into position, eyes narrowing as a slow grin spread over his face.
“Easy work,” he muttered, the sound carrying across the field to me.
A little rush of anger shot through me. Not worth it, I reminded myself, taking another practice swing before stepping into the box. Much better to just show him.
The first pitch was fast and outside. “Ball!” Donovan Tucker, the Island School’s principal-turned-umpire called behind me.
I watched the pitcher get into position, considering my move. From that one pitch I could pretty much guess what I was dealing with here. Should I let him get a strike or two in? Build up some false confidence? But that would force me to hold back. I remembered the mocking twist of his smile. I was definitely not in the mood to hold back.
The next pitch, too, came in slightly outside, but within reach. It would have been close if I let it go—but that didn’t matter. I swung, feeling the satisfying thwack of ball meeting bat, and knew right away that I had a hit. I took off for first, watching out of the corner of my eye as the ball sailed up and over the gloves of the outfielders, bouncing a few times as it made its way toward the fence. The crowd and my teammates were cheering as I sprinted around first. Probably a double, I thought to myself, turning my head slightly to watch the fielders run for my ball. I grinned to myself. Maybe a triple.
As I neared second I saw David standing at third. We made eye contact and he raised his eyebrows a little, as if asking me how I felt. I ducked my head in agreement and put on a burst of speed, really sprinting now. I made it to third just before the ball hit the third basemen’s glove and high-fived David as he shook his head.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got some heat on those legs of yours?”
“Once or twice.”
I turned back to our team as Edward approached the batter’s box. Behind him I could see Andrew, shaking his head at me. But he was grinning. From the corner of my eye I could see that the pitcher had his head turned in my direction instead of towards home. I met his gaze, surprised to see that he was still smiling slightly. He no longer looked mocking, however. Instead he seemed impressed. He nodded at me before he turned back to home and got into position.
Was he flirting with me? I had never been good at figuring those cues out. But there was definitely something about the way he was looking at me just now. He’s pretty cute, I thought, watching him shake his head at the signal from the catcher. Dark hair, dark eyes, tall. Compared to Edward’s broad form at home plate, the pitcher looked thin—but in an elegant sort of way. Definitely more polished than the guys from the island. Not really my type but, hey, I was just looking, right? He bent to get into position, giving me a very nice view of his ass, and I grinned to myself. Looking was paying off pretty nicely for me.
The sound of a ball hitting leather made me snap my eyes back towards home plate. “Strike!” Donovan called. Shit. I had missed it.
Get your head in the game, I told myself, determined to ignore the cute pitcher.
Edward took another strike and a ball before sending me home on an easy single. I returned to the dugout to cheers and slaps on the back.
“That was just showing off, going for that triple,” Andrew said, as I grabbed my water bottle.
“Hey, I didn’t win a full-ride track scholarship to waste my talents, buddy.”
He rolled his eyes. “Next you’re going to remind me about the multitude of records you hold at the Island School.”
“Don’t forget at the Class B state meet.”
Andrew shook his head. “So nice to see such a modest girl.”
I shoved his arm. “What do I have to be modest for? I kick ass.”
That got him laughing. “Yes, you do.”
We beat the Big Hotel team easily, scoring seven runs (two RBIs for me) to their two. Andrew pitched a flawless final inning to end the game, earning a standing ovation from both the crowd and our bench.
“Well done,” David called as the team gathered at the steps to the dugout. “You all definitely deserve a few rounds at Cora’s.”
“You getting a drink?” Andrew asked me as we started to shove mitts and water bottles into our duffels.
“Have I ever missed post-game drinks at Cora’s?”
He squinted, as if trying to remember. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think you’ve ever missed any drinks at Cora’s.”
Before I could respond, an excited chorus of little voices called my name.
“Auntie!”
“Auntie Wiley!”
I looked up to see my three nephews charging across the field toward me, my little sister, Rebecca, following behind with the stroller.
“Hey, buddies!” I called, leaving Andrew at the dugout as I grabbed up Aiden, the youngest brother, and swung him around. He squealed happily, wrapping his arms, still baby-fat, around my neck.
“You hit the ball!” he cried.
“I did! It was fun!”
His older brother, Mason, grabbed my legs, jumping up and down so excitedly I was sure he was crossing the line into hyper-activity. “You won the game!”
The middle brother, Jayden, stood behind the others, grinning at me shyly. I set down Aiden and knelt at Jay’s level, pulling him into a hug without any of the loud squeals or swinging through the air that his brothers had preferred. He had always been a little quieter, more sensitive than the rambunctious Mason and Aiden, and I tried hard to remember that, so that I didn’t overwhelm him.
“You played real good, Auntie,” he whispered in my ear, and my heart swelled right up. I knew it was wrong to even entertain the thought that I might love one of my nephews more than the others, but it was hard not to fall completely head over heels for Jayden. He was such a little sweetheart, always remembering to say please and thank you, always so eager with his hugs and his kisses, snuggling up against
my neck the way he was doing now. I ran my free hand through his thick curls. “Thanks, buddy,” I whispered back.
“Auntie, Auntie!” Mason was yelling, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt. “Will you teach me how to catch a fly ball, like you did in the second inning? That was so cool!”
“I don’t know, Mason. Do you think you could possibly be as cool as me? Even with practice?”
He howled with laughter. “I’ll be so much cooler!”
“Teach me! Teach me!” Aiden cried, joining his brother in tugging on my shirt. “I cool too!”
“Okay, boys,” Rebecca called, finally catching up to her kids. “Don't grab at her like that. Give Auntie some breathing room.”
“They're fine,” I assured her. “They complimented my baseball skills, and you know I can't get enough of that.”
My sister laughed. “I’d say that's the understatement of the year.”
“Yet here you are, not complimenting my skills on the field at all, even though you claim to know how much it means to me.”
Rebecca shook her head, still laughing. “You never change, do you? Okay, fine.” She placed a hand on my shoulder, her face taking on the enthusiastic expression she used when praising one of the kids. “You played great out there today, sport!”
“Hey, who else do I have to build up my ego besides my own sister?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. You think your ego needs more building up? I think it’s properly built, Ri.”
“What’s an ego?” Mason asked.
Always You: A Lilac Bay Novel (Friends with Benefits) Page 3
