“Photo opportunity, baby.” Tyler’s voice was like a saw blade cutting through aluminum
Jill gathered her equipment into her bag and threw the strap over her shoulder. “Great,” she said without any enthusiasm for him to gloat over. “I’m heading down.”
To Tyler she appeared apathetic, but inside she was doing back flips. Aside from this being a promising photo opportunity−after all, it was the World Series−this was also a possible opportunity to speak with Alfredo.
“Glad you’re so excited.” Tyler pouted, shoving off the workbench.
Fifteen minutes later, Jill was standing on Tropicana field watching the Groupers file into the first base dugout. There was no sign of Alfredo yet. Prior to knowing of his relationship to Brent, Jill had paid casual attention to Alfredo Petri, recognizing that he would probably single-handedly take the Groupers to the World Series. She also thought that he was an attractive man, with his close-cropped dark hair and big sloe-shaped brown eyes. His physique looked powerful on the pitcher’s mound when she would watch the games on TV. She admired his personality on camera. Always humble. Always polite.
“Come on,” Tyler moved in alongside her. “Don’t look so glum.” He draped his arm across her shoulder and propelled her towards the dugout.
Jill wriggled her shoulder to toss him off, but he was hauling her towards Miguel Soriano, the third base man. “Miguel−”
At that moment, Alfredo Petri stepped out of the dugout, and Tyler sensing a more prestigious target angled Jill in that direction. Alfredo stepped onto the dirt behind the first base line and Jill reeled at the man who emerged behind him.
Jill’s feet dug in when her eyes collided with Brent’s as he stepped out of the dugout. His gaze flared, but narrowed at the sight of Tyler draped across her.
“Alfredo, my man.” Tyler said, ignoring the fact that she had shrugged out of his grasp.
Tyler walked up to the pitcher with his hand extended. Alfredo glanced curiously at the man and hesitated before taking a step in his direction. He could not avoid the hand thrust at him, so he shook it and offered a polite, “Hello.”
“Would you have time for a few photos? I’m trying to impress the lady here.” He leaned forward as if this would preclude Jill from the conversation. “She’s not on the staff.”
Alfredo might have glanced her way but she had no way of knowing that. She was still locked on the eyes of the man approaching her. She would have charged at him and thrown her arms around his neck at the sheer joy of seeing him alive except for the look on his face.
With Tyler engaging Alfredo in conversation, Jill held her breath and waited until Brent stopped before her. His dark hair was disheveled on top and it hurt to know that the source was a scar. His pensive face was tan and his lips which she remembered tasting in desperation now were locked tight. He wore jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and to her he was the best looking man to ever walk the face of the planet.
“You’re alive,” she whispered.
Brent’s eyes drilled into her, emotional waves of topaz that made her yearn to clutch his shoulders so she could stay afloat.
“I am,” he answered in a husky tone.
“I was so worried, Brent. I kept searching the news…I searched everything for information.”
“I tried to call you.” His glance cast down. “You didn’t pick up.”
“Those calls didn’t come through until I reached Tampa,” she cried. “And when I got them, I tried to call back. Every day, every hour, but no one ever answered. I tried to locate the Petris’ number but it wasn’t listed. I tried to reach Alfredo, but they wouldn’t let me through.”
Brent looked up and she detected pain in his eyes.
“Who’s that?” He tipped his head in Tyler’s direction.
“That’s Tyler,” she said in quiet aversion.
“The Tyler?”
She could see the ire flash in Brent’s eyes, and before she could say anything, the object of their attention returned to her side.
“Is this chick dismal, or what?” Again, Tyler locked his arm around her shoulder and aimed a curious nod at Brent. “Lighten up, Jilly. You went on a cruise, you’re supposed to return relaxed and carefree.”
“Hard to be carefree with a bum knee.” Brent pointed out.
Tyler’s arm dropped from her shoulder. “She’s doing fine. That was some time ago and she healed right up.” Looking for an outlet, Tyler turned towards Jill. “Hey, Alfredo agreed to pose for a couple pictures for you.”
Jill glanced around Tyler and saw Alfredo warming up his arm with huge arc motions. He caught her eye and smiled. “Ready when you are.”
Her gaze bounced back to Brent. Just the sight of him made her list. She needed to touch him. She desperately needed to touch him.
“Jilly and I need to discuss something,” Brent addressed Alfredo who raised his eyebrow at his friend.
Brent reached for her hand and when she connected with his fingers, goose bumps possessed her. She looked at that link and then up to his face. She swore there was the hint of a grin on his lips as he too stared at the connection.
He guided her down the first base line, away from the dugout and away from the crowd, but he did not say a word. At the far end of right field, he ducked into a gap in the wall, secreting a tunnel to the inner labyrinth of the domed arena. As soon as they were tucked inside the shadows he reached for both her arms and hauled her against him. His mouth landed on hers with a soft moan.
Jill lurched, grateful for his hold. In the dark she could not see him, but she felt his lips, coaxing her into a response. She did not need coaxing. She needed this touch, and his soft moan proved to be her undoing. She craved him, and began to express through her kisses all the pain and horror of the past twelve days. Her mouth opened and her tongue touched his to convey how happy she was that he was alive.
Brent urged Jill to retreat a step so that her back was touching the wall. As if he were sapped of strength he splayed a palm against the cement block just above her shoulder and leaned into her. She reached up and cupped his face insider her hands.
“You’re safe,” she whispered against his lips as he descended for another kiss. “I tried so hard to find you.”
“And I tried to call you, but when you didn’t answer the second time I felt that maybe you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I couldn’t blame you. You probably thought I was a nut case.”
“And I thought you thought I was a pain in the ass,” she smiled.
“I do.”
***
“What happened, Brent?”
It was hard to focus. From the moment he stepped out of that dugout and saw her, Brent could not think. His brain was riddled with images of their time together−images he had tucked away to browse through on those lonely nights back in Juan Dolio.
“It was a crazy scene that I will recite later, but the Petris are free.”
Jill grabbed his arms and he caught an earnest glint in her eyes. “Is it over? Have Luis’s men been caught? Is that little gargoyle behind bars?”
“The little gargoyle,” he chuckled quietly. “That’s good.” He hesitated. “No, not yet. But he will be. I actually just got off the plane from Santa Domingo in time to catch Al’s game. I’ve been commuting for the past ten days, trying to work with the Feds−” he raised his eyebrows, “−yes, the feds are now involved.”
Jill’s fingers were massaging his upper arms as if to verify that he was real. It felt so good. Her touch felt so good.
“The phone you were calling, the one I placed those calls to you from, was inside the Petris’ home. No one has been there to answer it since that first day. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the feds show up eventually on your doorstep, asking questions.”
He caught her intake of breath and winked, “Don’t worry…Al and I will vouch for you.”
“I’ve been walking around in a fog−”
“Umm, your friend indicated that
you were−” he frowned, “−a dismal chick.”
“Bah, Tyler is pouting because he can’t seem to understand that I don’t want to have anything to do with him.”
“I can help him get the point if you’d like.”
Jill smiled. She lifted off the wall and looped her arms behind his neck, hugging him tight. His hands slipped down her back and drew her in tight. He dipped his lips into her hair, kissing it. He needed to be closer to her. He needed to feel their bodies merge. He nudged into her hips and heard her breath suck in.
“You’re safe.” She repeated as if it were a mantra. “I was−” She angled her head so that her words weren’t muffled against his skin. “I had so much left to say to you on that dock.”
Brent felt that wrench in his chest that he could no longer associate with too much pasta.
“You said you would come back for me.” Jill interrupted his thoughts. “How did you find me here?”
“Jill, I said I would come back for you as long as I was certain everything was over.” He tucked her back into his neck because her breath there felt reassuring. “But I have one more trip back to Santo Domingo. I had managed to get some pictures of Luis and his men on my cell phone. That along with testimony from the Petris’ neighbors will be enough to convict all of them. Then I can come to you. Come to you completely. But baby−will you still want me? I’m damaged.”
Jill tipped her head back to look into his eyes. He had acclimated to the tunnel and could see them now−midnight vessels to a beautiful soul.
“You are not damaged. You are beautiful.” She smiled.
Brent dipped and took her mouth again, thinking that he would never grow tired of this.
Shouts could be heard from the bowels of the stadium along with the thumping base of filtered music.
“We need to get upstairs. The game is going to start.” He looked up to make sure they were still secluded.
“I don’t have tickets. I’m supposed to head back up to the photographer’s suite.”
“You are sitting with me and the Petris in a box suite, Jill.” He stopped and looked at her. “And after that, Al is having a party at his house and we are invited.”
“We? Al doesn’t know me.”
“He knows about you, and I want you there with me.”
Jill searched his eyes and asked, “And after that?”
Brent reached up and weaved his fingers into her hair, using that grip to secure her as his mouth descended. To once again feel her in his arms, and taste her lips…this was the magic that would put his demons to rest.
“After that I am going to make slow, passionate love to you.”
Jill smiled and reached up, nuzzling his throat with tender kisses. “And after that?” she murmured.
He tucked a finger beneath her chin to raise it so that he could look into her eyes. “And after that I am going to try to convince you to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“Ohh,” she sucked in a breath, “it sounds like quite the evening.”
Brent sobered. “Jill, I never got to say something to you on that dock.” He dipped and brushed her lips. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”
The ocean rolled before him as tears filled her gaze. “I love you too, Brent Coales.”
About the Author
Maureen A. Miller's first endeavor into romantic suspense yielded her a Golden Heart nomination for the novel, Widow's Tale. After that, there was no turning back. Short to follow were back to back romantic suspense releases, Rogue Wave and Borrowed Time. And just this May, Carina Press released her latest romantic thriller, Endless Night.
Coming soon, look for her adventure in the jungle!
www.maureenamiller.com
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