Stealing Home: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel

by Jennifer Seasons

  He bit his tongue.

  LORELEI COULD TELL Mark was on the verge of exposing her. The look in his eye when Logan had demanded to know what was going on told her as much. The chance for the money would disappear entirely. Michelle would be lost.

  She’d closed her eyes against the hot rush of tears. Waited for the ball to drop.

  But it never did.

  She’d gotten so light-headed from relief she almost passed out when Mark covered for her. Snapping her eyes open, she stared across her living room at him in shock.

  Why had he lied for her?

  For a suspended moment their gazes locked. The gorgeous gray of his eyes sparked with challenge. What he was up to?

  She needed to think. Tearing her gaze from his, Lorelei began to lean forward, only to discover Michelle sound asleep. Her poor niece had dark smudges beneath her eyes. The exhaustion marks were a stark contrast to her pale, alabaster skin. Adjusting her arms until she cradled the sleeping toddler, she pushed out of the recliner and stood.

  How could she not do everything in her power to save Michelle? She had to find a way to get the charm to Dina. Even if it meant destroying the strange, tentative, almost-friendship that she and Mark were creating.

  Both men were watching her, one with concern in his dark gaze, the other with unreadable emotions shifting behind his silvery one. “I’m going to put her down for a nap.”

  Without a backward glance, Lorelei swept out of the room and hurried upstairs. Not only was she going to put Michelle down, but when she’d gone to make iced tea earlier she’d slipped upstairs and plugged in her laptop. She’d thought about a backup plan. And that plan was online auctions. All she needed was ten minutes.

  Once she reached Michelle’s cheerfully painted nursery she placed the toddler in her crib and covered her with a bright patchwork quilt. Out of habit she pressed her hand gently to Michelle’s chest, felt her heartbeat. When she was satisfied everything was normal, she kissed the petite girl on the forehead and silently slipped from the room, pulling the door mostly closed behind her.

  And jumped when she almost collided with Mark’s broad chest.

  “What are you doing up here?” she whispered furiously, afraid he’d wake Michelle. And because, yet again, he’d foiled her plans. How was she supposed to log into her laptop now?

  “Making sure we still understand each other, Lorelei. You still have something of mine and you’re going back with me until I get it.”

  So that’s what he was up to. “How’d you get up here?”

  His look was deadpan. “The stairs.”

  “Does Logan know?” Her brother was usually pretty protective.

  “How to use stairs?”

  Was he purposefully being dense? “No, that you’re up here with me.”

  He raised a brow in question. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  Ugh. Never mind. Obviously Mark had passed Logan’s inspection or he wouldn’t be up there acting obtuse.

  She peered around him and glanced down the stairs. “Shhh. Keep your voice down. I don’t want you to wake Michelle.” And she didn’t want Logan to overhear.

  He actually had the presence of mind to look chagrined. His voice dropped a decibel, but he didn’t apologize. “Are we crystal clear on this? You go back with me.”

  She glared at him. “This whole thing is just so stupid, you know.”

  “You started it.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Is that your room down the hall?”

  She nodded and bit back a nasty remark when he grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her toward her room. Once inside he let her go and gave her room a thorough once-over. Hot prickles of awareness and irritation poked her as Mark stood in her room, his masculine presence out of place and unwelcome. The room suddenly seemed two sizes too small.

  “Nice room you got here, Lorelei. Very feminine.”

  She loved her room, adored it. Every single inch of it. From her white iron headboard and brightly colored quilt, to her vintage cream-painted dressers and braided area rug. She even loved the faded wallpaper with creeping vines and morning glories on it and her scarred writing desk against the far wall. She didn’t love that damn computer chair, though.

  But with Mark standing in the center of her room with his Rolex and designer clothes it felt almost shabby. And she resented him for making her feel that way about a place she’d loved deeply her whole life. Felt anger at herself for thinking that what she had wasn’t good enough for Mark Cutter.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Lorelei walked over to the large picture window and looked out at the expanse of snow-flecked lawn below. In the summer, the huge old trees leafed out, casting the lawn in dapples of sun and shade. Flowers would overflow the flowerbeds, bright displays of color. It was the perfect yard for a girl to play, to pretend, to dream. To grow up in.

  Lorelei closed her eyes and inhaled, then turned and faced Mark. “I’ll go back with you.”

  “I know you will.”

  He did know it. It was in his stance, his voice, his smile. So damn self-assured and cocky. Mark always got what he wanted.

  Right now that was fine with Lorelei. As long as she got what she wanted, too. She plastered a big, fake smile of her face and asked, “Anything else you want, master?”

  His sensual mouth tipped up into a seductive smile and his eyes went lazy. “As a matter of fact,” he drawled, “why don’t you come over here and give me a kiss. Right here in the middle of your bedroom. Your room, you get to call the shots, sugar.”

  Lorelei strode slowly over to him, watched his eyes lower, focus on her mouth. She stopped in front of him and licked her lips, lifted up on her toes, and whispered against his mouth. “I’m going downstairs to talk to my brother, but when I come back, I’ll give you what you want. Wait right here.”

  Mark searched her face, his eyes sulky, and said, “You’ve got five minutes before I come after you.”

  Lorelei kept the smile on her face and her pace unhurried until she got into the hall. Once there she made her way quickly down the stairs and went in search of Logan. She found him in the kitchen making a sandwich. The sleeves of his ancient denim shirt were rolled up his deeply tanned arms, and his dark hair was smashed down flat in the back from his cowboy hat. Love welled inside her at the sight of him, as it always did.

  Her strong, loyal, loving brother. Who hadn’t really smiled since his wife passed away, and who was weighed down by grief and hopelessness a little more each day.

  Well, that was about to change. “I’m going to get the money, Logan.”

  His head whipped around and his dark eyes locked on her. “How, Lorelei? By selling yourself to Mr. Baseball up there?” He gestured upstairs with the butter knife in his hand.

  Lorelei sighed and shook her head. “You know I’d never do that.”

  He turned back to his sandwich, added a leaf of lettuce. “You’re not pregnant with his kid, are you?”

  That one made her snort. “Are you kidding? You have to have sex to get pregnant, and I haven’t had any in a very long time.”

  His voice was almost too low, but she still heard him mutter, “That makes two of us.”

  Lorelei grabbed a tomato from the hanging fruit basket next to her and handed it to him. “You know the waitress from the café has got the hots for you. And Michelle’s therapist is always checking out your butt.”

  He glanced at her briefly. “I’m not ready.” The simple words held a world of meaning. He didn’t mean just dating.

  “I’m going to promise you something. The next time I come home I’ll have the money. We’ll be able to do it, I swear. And then everything will be good again. You’ll see.”

  Logan stopped what he was doing and reached for her. “Come here, sis.” She went to him and felt his strong arms wrap comfortingly around her. “I love you. You and Michelle are all I’ve got in this world. I’d do anything for my girls, you know that, right?”

  Lorelei nodded against his chest, the worn denim s
oft against her cheek. “I know that. I love you, too.”

  His arms tightened around her in a bear hug. “I swear though, Lorelei. You do anything stupid and wind up in trouble, I’ll tan your hide like you were caught stealing Mom’s prized baking apples to feed the horses. You understand me?”

  “I got it, Logan.”

  Just then his body went still and she knew without turning that Mark was standing in the doorway behind her. Her five minutes must be up.

  “It’s time to go, Lorelei.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded behind her.

  Yes, it was. Lorelei reached up on her toes and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. He gave her a hard warning look and let her go.

  It was time to get the show on the road.

  Chapter 13

  “WHAT IS THIS place?”

  Mark reached for Lorelei’s elbow and grinned. Yeah, he knew what it looked like. A giant ramshackle old brick warehouse that had definitely seen better days.

  It was exactly what he’d wanted when he’d bought it.

  His palm cupped her elbow and he tugged her to the huge plank door. Heat from her body soaked into his hand and traveled up his arm in a warm, wandering wave. Already on edge, his pulse leaped at the contact and his blood temperature rose.

  It seemed to be a common condition when Lorelei was near. “Are you worried, Lorelei? Afraid of what’s inside?”

  She leveled a look at him. “It’s been my experience that outside appearances are, more often than not, deceiving.”

  Mark reached for the door and gripped the handle. “Ah. So you don’t believe what you see is what you get?”

  She scoffed. “Hardly. There’s always more to the story, Mark. Most people don’t take enough time to look.” Her eyes became cool and guarded. “Most people just don’t care.”

  His mind flashed back to the scene he’d witnessed in the kitchen of her house. There was very definitely more to that story, a hell of a lot more. Emotions he’d never experienced before had slapped him in the face like a scorned woman. Grief, loss, despair. Ugly, desperate emotions so foreign to him he’d almost not been able to put a name to them.

  And he hoped to God he never had to experience them again. He liked his life simple and free of complications.

  He played baseball. Lived it, breathed it—dreamed it. And he kept his encounters with women brief and shallow. Everyone got out before things got messy and feelings got hurt. Well, most of the time.

  He’d learned the value of self-preservation from his first marriage and he’d learned it well. So then what was he doing with Lorelei? She was anything but simple.

  “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open the door? It’s getting chilly out here,” she said.

  Mark blinked and shook his head. She was right, it was getting cold. Springtime in Colorado was unpredictable and there was a definite bite in the night air tonight.

  A car turned onto the street, its bright headlights washed over them. The deep muddled thump of rap music bass reverberated against the pavement and practically shook the car windows. It grew louder as it sped past until it rounded the corner a block down and disappeared from sight.

  When all was quiet again, the wide street of Lodo momentarily empty, Mark flung the door open and ushered Lorelei inside. Another blast of music hit them as they stepped onto the landing. A large black man with rolls of muscle stepped in front of them, his huge pecs bulging beneath his T-shirt.

  Mark felt her shrink against him and smiled. It felt good to have her plastered to his side. Her curvy body fit snug against him, warm and soft. Settling a protective arm over her shoulder, he raised his other hand and extended it toward the huge man. “Hey, Mario. It’s good to see you. How you doing, man?”

  The bouncer returned Mark’s handshake with a smile. His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. “Good to see you, brother. It’s been a while. Some of the guys are here tonight. Should I tell Leslie you’re here?”

  Mark gave Lorelei a squeeze. “Nah. I’m sure word will get out soon enough. Sounds like it’s the Rhumbi boys on stage tonight. Good. I’m in the mood for some live reggae. We’ll head on down and grab a table. Hey, tell Denise I said hi, will you?”

  “I will. The guys are at their usual table if you and the lady would like to join them. The band just started their second set of the night.”

  With a nod, Mark led Lorelei down a flight of stairs to the open main level of the club. He was satisfied to see the place full on a late night. The long bar in the corner was packed and the wraparound balcony was almost full. Even the couches on the left were totally occupied.

  Good. His sister was doing a great job with his club.

  Lights hung suspended from the two-story ceiling on long poles and illuminated the huge stage. Lively reggae music pumped from the speakers as the band kicked into another song.

  The dance floor was crowded as Mark steered Lorelei around the crush to a long table on the far side. Some of his teammates were there, drinks in hand, listening to the live band. The noise level was so loud it took her elbowing him in the side to get his attention.

  He smiled down at her and grinned. In the low light she was gorgeous, her pouty lips a mouthwatering shade of pink, her eyes deep as emeralds. His breath hitched in reaction.

  “Are you going to tell me now what we’re doing here?” she practically yelled.

  Mark lowered his head until his mouth was a breath away from her ear. “We’re enjoying a night out. Have you got a problem with that?”

  He was so close he could smell the warm scent of her skin, feel her hair whisper across his cheek as she shook her head. His stomach pitched and took a long, slow roll.

  “I don’t have a problem. I’m just surprised, that’s all,” she replied.

  “Even self-centered, womanizing baseball jocks like to kick back once in a while, Lorelei.”

  A yell from the table caught his attention and he stepped back from her. He looked up to see Peter Kowalskin waving them over.

  “Hey, Cutter! Get your pathetic ass over here and bring the lady. We want to meet her.” Peter called out with a grin.

  Sliding his hand down until it rested at the small of her back, Mark guided her past a young couple busy shoving their tongues down each others’ throats and pulled a chair out for her at the table.

  Lorelei sunk into the chair and looked around the table at Mark’s teammates. There was Peter Kowalskin and a young kid with a shaved head and nasty split lip. Both of them she recognized from the first night she met Mark. Another was the gruff-looking player Leslie had whistled at. He looked almost more imposing in civilian clothes, his size and brute force even more apparent. The only thing soft about the guy was the brown hair that swept back from his rugged face and curled over his shirt collar.

  The fourth guy she couldn’t place. Mark took a seat across from her and began making introductions. “Lorelei, I’d like you to meet some of my teammates. The old man there is Peter Kowalskin and next to him looking pretty with his split lip is our new rookie, JP Trudeau. They were with me the night we met.”

  “That was you?” the young player asked, his eyes huge.

  She nodded. The rookie opened his mouth again, but Mark cut him off before he could say anything. “She’s not kissing anything of yours, rookie, so forget it.” He glanced across the table at her, his eyes unreadable in the dim light. “That’s John Crispin next to you. He and Leslie have been seeing each other for the past few months. And the delicate flower here next to me is Drake Paulson.”

  After shaking hands, Lorelei shrugged out of her coat and leaned back against the seat. Talk immediately turned to—what else?—baseball, so she took that as her cue and tuned out. Her gaze wandered around the huge club and the mass of people.

  She couldn’t help noticing a lot of eyes kept wandering over to the table of MLBers. A lot of female eyes. And they seemed to land an awful lot on the blond-haired catcher with the killer smile and notoriously quick hands.
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br />   Lorelei felt a stab of irritation when a man-eater in a six-inch dress and fake breasts the size of melons broke away from a group of similarly attired hoochies and strutted over. She slowed when she reached the table but continued around to the far side, bumping hard into Lorelei as she rounded it.

  The bimbo didn’t even apologize. She was zeroed in on Mark and apparently couldn’t be bothered with common courtesy. Conversation came to a slow halt when she leaned over, her huge silicone breasts almost popping out of her skimpy red dress, and placed her hands on the table. She was so skinny the bones in her chest were visible.

  Somebody really needed to feed the poor blond bimbo. She needed some mashed potatoes and gravy or something. Maybe a brownie and some ice cream.

  Lorelei felt her eyebrows rise when the woman wiggled her skeleton fingers at the guys and crooned, “Hi there, fellas. I’m Candy.”

  The guys all mumbled a greeting, except for Mark. His eyes were fixed firmly on Lorelei, his lips pressed in a thin line. Annoyance radiated from him, his body tense.

  Why he was annoyed was beyond her. Wasn’t this what he waited for? A willing woman and no-strings sex? For crying out loud, she’d propositioned him much the same way a few nights ago in that parking lot. He hadn’t been bothered then.

  Or was it just that he was irritated that she’d been so right about him?

  Suddenly a perverse sense of amusement washed through her. She was going to enjoy seeing how Mark handled this little situation. Grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the table, she popped a few in her mouth and shot him a smug smile. This was going to be highly entertaining.

  At her smile, he scowled, nearly causing her to choke on her peanuts. Laughter bubbled up and almost burst loose and she coughed to cover. Apparently he didn’t think the situation was funny.