“You ready to meet your maker?” I pull Corey along behind me as I step through the large entryway. My heels click on the travertine floor and echo around the room as if we were in an empty museum. We wind through the living room, past the massive table in the dining room, and towards the kitchen. Marco’s laughter booms when we walk through the door, but that’s gone the instant he sees us.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Marco is all bulldog, and he starts to push through the group of people gathered between us when a sudden squeal interrupts him.
“Corey!” Jen Lucas pops her head up, then rushes forward and jumps into Corey’s arms. “What are you doing here? Oh my God! I didn’t think you’d come!”
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Corey says as he hugs his sister. Her feet hang down by his shins and as he sways back and forth, her legs swing like she’s a little kid.
Marco’s made it halfway across the kitchen to us, and he’s staring at Corey and Jen through narrowed eyes. “You know him?” he asks in a gruff voice.
“Marco, this is my brother, Corey Lucas.” Jen is beaming up at her brother as he eyes my uncle.
“This is your brother?” Marco’s eyes narrow even further, but Jen doesn’t notice.
“Show him, Corey.” Jen grabs the sleeve to Corey’s t-shirt and starts pulling it up, exposing the tattoo on his arm. She beams up at Marco as she tugs Corey’s shoulder towards her for a better view. “This is Tiger.”
Marco pulls his head back like he’s been slapped as he sees the tiger inked on Corey’s skin. “You’re Jen’s brother?”
“Yes,” Corey says.
“And Frankie’s…”
“One and the same.”
Jen wraps her arm around Corey’s waist and tugs him farther into the kitchen. She reminds me of the little kids in the park when I was doing yoga, dragging their moms across the grass to the ice cream cart. They brush past Marco and stop in front of the island, near Vinny and Vivian. I catch the firm handshake and brotherly hug Corey gives Vinny before he peeks back over his shoulder at me. I swear there’s bird feathers hanging out of Vinny’s mouth with the conniving smile on his face.
“He’s her brother?” Marco asks as he steps up close. His eyes haven’t left the Lucas siblings. I’ve never seen him so thrown off before.
“Jen and Corey Lucas,” I offer as my response.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what? When?” I glare at my uncle and keep my voice low. “From the minute you saw Corey in my hospital room, you’ve done nothing but try to yell at me and keep me away from him. What does it matter anyway?”
“He’s Jen’s brother.” Marco shakes his head. I’m fed up with his strange behavior. I stalk past him to Corey’s side.
Corey pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. I melt into his embrace. We’re not dead. Marco’s not yelling. I don’t understand it, but with Corey’s arms around me, at the moment I don’t care.
Marco joins our little group again but is quiet for some time. We listen to Vivian finish talking about her most recent trip to Paris, then Vinny and Jen start in on a hilarious story about the drunk she sat next to on the plane ride home from Barbados. I can almost forget my uncle’s strange behavior, but he keeps eyeing Jen, Corey, and me as if we’re exotic animals he’s not sure how to handle.
Rose makes an appearance in the kitchen, and Marco shoos us all out of the room so she can start dinner. I settle in on the couch in the living room with Corey pressed to my side. Our fingers are intertwined, our legs and shoulders tight against each other. Marco sits in the closest chair and looks at Corey.
“Season’s going good.”
“Yes, sir,” Corey says as Vivian and Vinny stop in the middle of their conversation and stare.
“You’ve had a great year so far.”
Corey pulls me closer to him and kisses my temple. “I’ve had some inspiration this year.”
Marco eyes me as I curl my fingers around Corey’s arm. “That must be some inspiration.”
“But, Corey,” Jen says, “you and Frankie hated each other when you first met. You were already doing great at the beginning of the season.”
Corey and I laugh at his sister. “No, Jen, we never hated each other.”
“We met before Spring Training,” Corey says. “And I fell for her the minute I saw her.”
As Corey plants a kiss on my temple, Vinny tugs Jen closer to his side and whispers in her ear. Vivian is watching her father and Marco is staring at us with wide eyes. In my heart, I know Corey loves me. I don’t know what he’s done to pull this off - to make Marco at least tolerate his presence here at my side - but the fact that he even tried means everything.
The subtle unease fades throughout the afternoon. When Vivian and Marco are locked in deep conversation and Vinny pulls Jen out of the room to show her the gardens, I take Corey’s hand and lead him away. I give him a tour of the place. I feel bad, in a way. He and Jen grew up with little while I grew up with so much. At the same time, I’m jealous. He grew up in a loving home while I never felt I belonged.
We end the tour in my old bedroom. The first floor of Lee’s safe house could fit comfortably inside these walls. The hardwood floors are covered in trendy area rugs Vivian helped me pick out in California last year. The upper walls are painted a creamy blue, with white wainscoting on the bottom. The decorations are limited to books and a few stuffed animals my grandmother gave me when I was young. There is no television, but instead a nice little reading nook where I spent so much time when I was growing up.
The minute we’re inside, Corey shuts the door and pulls me against him. “Mmm, I love your bed.” He nudges me backwards until my legs buckle against the mattress.
“God, I want you,” I say as he nips at my neck. I gaze up at the canopy draped over the four white posts on each corner of the bed. Beneath me, the white eyelet comforter cradles my body, reminding me of the years I’d lain here wishing for a different life. A life where I could be loved by a man without hiding from my uncle, where I could have friends and have the freedom I always felt I deserved.
When Corey slides his hand up my thigh beneath my dress, I stop him. “Not here.”
“Why not?” he asks without halting his assault on my neck.
“I don’t know how you did it, Corey.”
“Did what?” He stops and looks up at me, his brow furrowed and his dark eyes shining.
“You’ve got Marco eating out of your palm. How’d you do it?”
“It was Vinny’s idea.” He sits up and adjusts himself, then turns and smiles at me. “He realized Marco didn’t know I was Jen’s brother. She always assumed Marco knew who she was, and since he never said anything, she stayed away from talking about baseball.”
“Don’t mix business and pleasure.”
“Exactly. Anyway, so Vinny comes up to me in Atlanta and says Marco was begging her to invite her family over. Especially her big brother, who she idolizes.” Corey makes air quotes and rolls his eyes, but he has that loving smile he gets when he talks about his little sister. “Vinny knew you’d never agree to come, but Marco’s all but invited me himself. What better way for him to meet me than in front of Jen? What’s he going to do, throw me out? He loves Jen almost as much as Vinny does.”
I kiss Corey, gentle at first, then harder. Soon we’re lying down again, and if I don’t stop him now, I’ll never be able to.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when I pull away from his kiss and halt his hands on my thighs.
“I’m not doing this here. Not tonight.”
“Come on, doll. What better way to say ‘fuck you’ to Marco than to make love to me in his house?”
I grin at him and plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “While I like the way you think, I’d rather not get you killed the first time you’re here. Besides, if we’re going to say ‘fuck you,’ then you better fuck me. But not tonight.”
“Please, baby. I need you.”
&nbs
p; “Not here.” I stand and pull Corey off the bed. He presses his hard body against mine, and I slide my hands up his chest. “Now, let’s go downstairs before Marco starts to think we’re doing what you want to do.”
Corey groans but follows behind me. We join everyone in the living room again. Before we can even get comfortable, Rose announces dinner is ready. We dine on filet mignon, grilled asparagus, and rosemary new potatoes. There’s only one thing I like about my uncle’s housekeeper - her cooking.
When the food and wine are gone and the sun was still floating above the horizon, we gather out on the front steps to say goodbye.
Vinny gives me a tight hug. “I’m glad you came, cuz. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” I tell him.
When Vinny releases me, Marco is there to take his place. With his hands on my shoulders, he kisses each cheek, then looks me in the eyes.
“Frankie. Tesoro. I owe you an apology.” When I don’t respond, he continues. “I know I haven’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry. Corey is a fine young man. I can see he makes you happy, and I want you to be happy. I hope you can forgive me.”
I nod and give my uncle a hug. I step back, and Marco shakes Corey’s hand. I don’t catch what they say to each other because my phone starts ringing. As I dig it out of my purse, a car horn starts blaring down the street. In a neighborhood like this, car horns don’t blare. It’s carefully controlled - who gets in and who doesn’t. I look up at the black, beat-up old SUV barreling up the circle drive. But it’s who is in front of that, storming towards the house, that has me reeling.
Madison Greene is running towards us. She looks like hell. The black cocktail dress she was wearing in Atlanta is rumpled, the skirt torn. Her bright red lipstick is smudged, and thick black lines run down her cheeks from her eyes. The most disturbing thing, though, is the sleek black pistol she’s pointing straight at us.
“No!”
My eyes catch the muzzle flash before my ears register the sound of the gun being fired. Before I have a chance to react, I’m being pushed to the ground. My skin rips open as my palms hit the pavement, and I’m crushed under Corey’s body. Lee is out of his SUV, tackling the pretty brunette to the ground. Marco and Vinny are yelling and dragging Jen and Vivian down. And Jen is screaming. Screaming so loud at first I think she’s been hit. It’s not until the warmth of the blood starts soaking through my dress that I realize it’s not Jen that’s hit.
It’s Corey.
Chapter 19
Eight months later
Frankie
“Mornin’, darlin’.” Mitch looks up at me, his eyes hooded from sleep. His ever-growing tattoo snakes down his forearms now, but his ripped stomach is still mostly free of ink. Only the tiny curls that tickle his abs - the same ones from when I first saw them - are present. It’s still a gorgeous sight.
“Good morning,” I tell him. I drag my eyes away from his chest and turn my head to look out on the city. It’s a beautiful day, even if it is early. I take a sip of my coffee, stick my hand in the pocket of my robe, and turn back to Mitch. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a dream.” He sits up and sets his feet on the floor, leaning to stretch over the back of my leather sofa. “I need to get one of these. I swear it’s as comfortable as my bed.”
I smile and take a seat in one of the matching armchairs, adjusting my robe over my legs. “You can afford it now. Maybe you should.”
He shrugs, then stretches again. “You hear from Lee?”
“Had a text first thing this morning. What is it? O five hundred?”
“That’s too early.”
“That’s what I told him. But you know how he is.”
Lee’s on a case. Another rich girl with a crazy-ass ex. This time, though, he’s got more help. His full-time staff of five security guys help him out so he’s not out of town or showing up too late when he’s needed most.
A lot has changed since Corey was shot last June. Lee quit his jobs at all the clubs he was a bouncer at and began working at his security company full-time. It took a couple months, but he was able to convince Mitch to quit working at Riverside and join him. They’ve taken on a handful of clients and are gaining enough recognition that Lee’s talking about expanding. All he needs is a little more capital. And that’s where I come in.
I don’t blame Lee for showing up too late that day. He did the best he could, given his limited resources. He tracked Madison to Marco’s house, and if it hadn’t been for the security guard at the gate, he would have been there on time. Of course, the guard was doing his job, too. He was trying to keep an unauthorized person from entering the gated community. Lee had to crash through the barrier gate to get through. And lucky he did. The guard called the police, who showed up within minutes to apprehend Madison. One of the officers took care of her while the other called an ambulance and helped Rose give medical attention to Corey. It was all a series of events that, if they hadn’t happened when they did, would have cost Corey his life.
“I better go,” Mitch says as he grabs his t-shirt off the floor and throws it over his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
I stand and wrap my arms around Mitch as he hugs me tight. “Anytime. Thanks for coming last night.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, darlin’.” I lift my chin and accept a kiss on the cheek before letting him go.
When Mitch shuts the door behind him, I flip the deadbolt and turn towards the kitchen. There are empty alcohol bottles, fruit rinds, and dirty glasses strewn across the bar. The sink is overflowing with plates and the garbage is full of the remains of all the hors d’oeuvres, napkins, and containers from last night. My housekeeper - a woman named Bianca, who came highly recommended by Rose - will be in later this afternoon to clean it up. I hate leaving it for her, but she insists that’s what I pay her for. And I suppose she’s right.
That’s one thing I’ve had to learn. My money, everything I inherited, everything I’ve been stockpiling instead of using, is as important as my knowledge and skills. I realized I needed to use everything available to me to make my life, and the lives of others, more comfortable.
My first investment was Lee’s security company. The influx of capital was the thing that allowed him to build the company the way he always wanted. And it was a fantastic investment. Within the first six months, I’d made back all my money and more. Each new investment allowed him to buy more equipment and hire more men. Our plan is to move forward with hiring another dozen men, expanding operations outside of the city to New York and California.
I’ve met with my financial advisors many times over the past six months and have narrowed down a few other companies I am considering investing in. There are so many that need capital, and some promising prospects. It’s not something I’m jumping into. Each decision is carefully made, as Marco always taught me.
I grab my cellphone off the counter as I refill my coffee mug. Vivian called again last night while I was sleeping. She always did have trouble with time zones. I listen to the message as I sip my coffee and flip through one of the résumés Lee sent over.
“Frankie, sweetie, congratulations. Wish I could have been there. Let’s meet up when we’re back next month. Ta ta!”
The background is blaring horns and people yelling. Vivian has been traveling so much lately I don’t even remember where she is this week. India? Africa? It’s hard to keep it straight. All I know is she’s out shopping for fabrics for her new clothing line. She offered to take me with her when she left months ago, but I declined. My little empire is growing, and I need to be here.
I shoot off a quick email to Lee. The résumé looks good and I suggest we set up an interview at his earliest convenience. Then I grab the rest of the stack and my coffee and deposit the papers on my desk in my office. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do all morning, but I needed to see Mitch off first.
I climb the stairs to the second floor of my condo. It has a loft feel - the grand stairwell looks out ove
r the open living and dining rooms. Only my office is closed off downstairs. It’s enough privacy to invite clients here without them imposing too much on my personal space. At the top of the stairs, there’s two spare bedrooms, each with their own attached baths. At the far end of the hall is the master suite. I moved my large canopy bed from my room at Marco’s. It’s one of the few possessions I brought into this place that wasn’t bought new. And it, along with the Jacuzzi tub in the master bath, makes me want to never leave my room.
It feels like home.
But it’s not my bedroom I’m interested in right now. It’s one of the spares. The room has been converted to a workout space, with a treadmill, elliptical machine, weight machine, and a large, open space for yoga. This room holds my interest this morning.
When I open the door, he’s standing there. He’s dripping sweat and looks good enough to eat. Corey turns to me and smiles. I walk straight to him and wrap my arms around him, sweat be damned.
“I love you, baby.” I squeeze him tight, then pull back to look at him. His perfect stomach is now marred by a quarter-sized pucker of skin where the bullet entered. He also has a slash across his chest and stomach where they cut him open to fix the damage the bullet to the gut caused. If it weren’t for Corey jumping in front of me when he did, I may not be here today.
He’s more than perfect, and I love his scars. Because those scars show the world how much he loves me. Well, that and the sparkling diamond that now resides on my finger. It’s no twisty-tie, but it will do.
Corey
I still have nightmares of Madison holding that gun, stalking towards us across the circle drive. It’s not that I get hit. My nightmares are of me not getting in front of Frankie in time. To me, it’s more devastating than what really happened.
I needed multiple surgeries to fix my gut and months of physical therapy. I missed the rest of the season last year. There were even fears I would never heal enough to return to baseball. And there’s still a question about how good I’ll be when I do return. It hurts. The injury and my new limitations. Baseball was my life, the one thing I wanted to do. Sure, I got my degree in business to fall back on, but that’s not what I want to do with my life. Living without baseball would be bad.
Playing with Fire - A Sports Romance Page 20
