Baseball and Other Lessons (Devil's Ranch Book 2)

by Aubrey Gross

  That’s what she was afraid of.

  But then he spread her legs just a little wider, pushing himself deeper inside, and all thoughts other than “oh, my, God” scattered on a ragged gasp.

  He chuckled. Damn him.

  But the tension was building again, and she could feel her body racing towards orgasm. Matt worked a hand in between them, rolled his thumb over her clit and commanded, “Look at me, sweetheart. Stay with me.”

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze with hers. Their faces were merely inches from each other, and somehow this position was more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced. He rolled his hips against hers again, and it was almost like he was touching her soul.

  She wanted to climb inside of him. Own him as completely as he owned her.

  His hazel eyes had darkened to an olive green, and his jaw was clenched in concentration.

  This man.

  This handsome, driven, intelligent, athletic god wanted her. Was inside of her.

  And God, she wanted him. All of him.

  “It’s okay. Let go. I’m here.” His voice was a whisper that sounded like every prayer her soul had ever uttered.

  She broke, her muscles spasming around him as tears burned at her eyes. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t, was caught in the web of his gaze. She saw the moment he came, the way his eyes glazed over and his jaw clenched, felt his body grow taught against hers as he thrust into her one last time.

  His fingers dug into her lower back. Hers dug into the back of his neck.

  Her heart was racing. Racing. Racing.

  Thumpthumpthump.

  Thumpthumpthump

  Matt kissed her cheek and whispered, “Don’t cry, gorgeous.”

  “I’m not crying.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Wait, why were her cheeks wet?

  Well, that’s embarrassing.

  He lifted a hand and gently wiped away her tears. “It’s never been like this for me, either.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into his neck. She could still feel him inside of her, somehow still hard. His hands rubbed her back and her breath caught.

  Why had she spent so much time hating him when if she’d just womaned up she could have been loving him instead?

  #

  Matt breathed in the scent of sex and Jenn’s shampoo, the combination causing his heart to stutter and his dick to twitch. Granted, it didn’t help that he was still inside of her and every now and then her pussy would clench around him.

  He wanted to believe that meant she didn’t want him to leave. In any way, shape or form.

  Unfortunately, he needed to dispose of the condom before they had a mess on their hands.

  With another kiss to her curls, he said, “I need to clean up real quick.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jenn said before pulling away and carefully untangling their bodies.

  She scooted up to the head of the bed, and he felt bereft without her near.

  Mentally shaking himself, he kissed her again before getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom where he quickly disposed of the condom and cleaned up. When he returned to the bedroom, she was under the covers but watching him, her gaze wary and lonely.

  The sight was like a swift kick to the heart.

  He climbed under the quilt, laid on his side and pulled her tight against him. She turned so that her back was to his front in the spoon position. His cock instantly grew hard and Jenn chuckled. “Is that a bat in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

  He laughed and rolled her over. “You are so freaking goofy sometimes.”

  She grinned. “It’s one of my more adorable traits.”

  “I think everything about you is adorable,” he said before kissing her and showing her just how adorable he thought she was.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  @ESPN: Sources confirm @MattRobertsTX has been cleared to play. Returns to AAA today.

  @Deadspin: Party’s over! Matt Roberts to report to Wranglers’ AAA club today.

  @BleacherReport: Matt Roberts reports to Wranglers’ AAA today, cleared to play. Mystery woman reportedly not pleased.

  “Where the hell do they get this shit?” Matt muttered to himself as he perused Twitter while the private plane taxied down the runway of the executive airport the Wranglers used to transport players between the big club and their AAA affiliate just outside of Oklahoma City.

  The plane slowly came to a stop and Matt pocketed his phone before unbuckling his seat belt and standing to grab his carry-on. The doors opened and Matt walked down the stairs and waited for his luggage as a golf cart motored towards them. He did a double-take when he realized Darrin was driving it.

  His agent brought the small vehicle to a stop and climbed out to greet him. They shook hands and bumped shoulders before Darrin stood back, looking like a fucking GQ model in his custom slate gray suit.

  “Dude, it’s the middle of August. You’ve got to be burning up.”

  Darrin smiled, but his clear green eyes were serious as they looked at Matt. “I’m fine. The question here is how are you?”

  Matt shrugged, getting the feeling Darrin wasn’t talking about his head. “I’m fine. The doctor cleared me yesterday and management apparently wanted me here ASAP so I could start my rehab stint.”

  “I know all of that. I mean how are you really? You gonna be able to get back out there considering what happened the last time?”

  He was more worried about his heart than his head, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Darrin. Or anyone, really. “Absolutely. This is probably my last chance at a championship.”

  Darrin nodded.

  “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have other clients to pester?”

  Darrin snorted. “It’s a two-fold sort of thing. You’re my friend first and my client second, so I wanted to make sure you really were okay. I was already on my way here when Chase and Owen called me earlier to tell me about that letter they received from the Devils River Conservation Association. They figured I should know about it, too, since it looks like this could become a pretty big legal battle.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “What letter?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Oh, hell. I’ll fill you in on the way to the car and then over to the ballpark,” Darrin said as Matt’s luggage was wheeled around to him.

  He grabbed the suitcase handle and readjusted the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder before walking it over to the golf cart and loading it up. Darrin slid behind the wheel and Matt sat on the passenger side. As they drove away from the plane, Matt asked, “Okay, so what’s going on?”

  “I can’t believe your brother didn’t tell you.”

  “He’s been a little preoccupied the past few days. So what’s up?”

  Darrin shook his head. “Preoccupied?”

  “It’s a really long story. Let’s get to this letter thing first.”

  “Fair enough. Apparently Chase and Owen were out at the ranch late last week and Daniel had a letter for them that had been mailed directly to the ranch rather than our P.O. Box. At any rate, the gist of it is that some guy’s trying to convince the state of Texas that it would be a great idea to pump water from the Edwards-Trinity Aquifer in Val Verde County all the way to San Antonio and other parts of the state.”

  Matt shook his head. “Why would anyone think that’s a good idea?”

  Darrin made the money sign with his fingers. “It’s all about money. San Antonio’s water situation isn’t looking good these days, and this guy with some place called the West Texas Water Company is trying to sell them on the idea of cheap water from the Aquifer to help fulfill demand.”

  “But that’s like robbing Peter to pay Paul. If you pump water from the Aquifer, that’s just going to drain the Devils River since it’s fed from ground water. Not to mention the impact on Lake Amistad—which is low as it is—and San Felipe Springs in D
el Rio, all of which flow into the Rio Grande.” He’d seen just how low Amistad was while he was at home. It was depressing.

  “Yup. And taking the water out of the ecosystem in Val Verde County would also dramatically decrease the amount of water available further down the Rio Grande in towns like McAllen and Laredo.”

  They reached Darrin’s Mercedes and they pulled into the parking space beside it before drawing to a stop. He cut the engine and they both climbed out. Matt grabbed his bags as Darrin pulled a set of keys out of his pants pockets and hit a button on the key fob. The trunk popped open, and Matt tossed his suitcase and laptop inside before slamming it closed.

  Once they were inside the car and pulling out of the airport’s parking lot, Matt picked up where they’d left off. “So why did we get a letter from this conservation group?”

  “Ends up it’s a group of other landowners and some conservationists and environmentalists who are trying to preserve the purity of the Devils River. They’re lobbying the state to knock out this guy’s proposal and consider alternative methods that wouldn’t be as harmful to the environment or to the water supply of Val Verde County.”

  “Sounds like it could get messy.”

  “It could, yes, especially since the Devils Ranch borders the Devils River Natural Area.”

  “I had completely forgotten about that.”

  While their ranch was about 1,900 acres, the Natural Area was a 37,000-acre state park. It had originally only been 20,000 acres, but Texas Parks and Wildlife had purchased an adjoining 17,000 acre ranch a few years back. The Devils Ranch bordered the state park on one side, which was one of the reasons why they’d won their auction bid——everyone else wanted to put up high fencing, which was not allowed by the state. Matt, Chase, Owen and Darrin had been fine with that, and had actually seen the idea of not having fencing on that side as a boon to the hunting ranch they hoped to open up—having an easy path for various and sundry wildlife was not only good for the ecosystem, but also for business.

  Matt pulled himself out of his thoughts as they pulled up to the ballpark. Darrin parked close to the front office and turned off the car.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  Matt shrugged. “As okay as I can be.”

  It had helped to think about something else for a few minutes.

  “Nervous at all?”

  “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t, but I’m excited, too.”

  And missing Jenn, don’t forget that part.

  Matt shook his head. “Let’s do this thing.”

  #

  “What do you mean you’re not going to let me pitch?”

  Reed Thornhill and Wallace Carter, the manager of the Wranglers’ AAA team, sat calmly at the conference room table. Darrin had his agent face on. Meanwhile, Matt was pacing like a caged tiger.

  “Matt, we can’t risk it. You had brain surgery two months ago. If we bring you back now the media and fans are going to question our motives and whether we have your health in mind or are just grasping at a pennant race,” Reed said.

  “But I’ve been cleared!”

  Reed slowly inhaled. “We all know that, Matt, but the media’s already all over this story. I’m surprised we don’t have ESPN camped out in the parking lot with video cameras.”

  “Give them time,” he muttered.

  “We have to handle this properly, not only in the eyes of the media and our fans, but also for your future health.”

  “Reed, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think I could play. I feel fine. Hell, I feel great.” Other than feeling like a piece of him was missing, that is.

  Focus, Roberts, focus.

  “I don’t doubt that. And I completely trust Dr. Cushon when he says you’re ready. I’ve seen the CT scans. They admittedly look great. But the fact remains you suffered a very traumatic injury on the mound that resulted in brain surgery. The Wranglers don’t take that lightly.”

  Matt rubbed a hand over his face. “So you brought me up here to what? Parade me in front of the media and the minor league guys to act as some kind of cheerleader? Fuck that.”

  Reed and Wallace glanced at each other before Wallace cleared his throat and said, “Actually, Matt, we were hoping you would be willing to stick around and possibly start learning the ropes.”

  “Learnings what ropes?”

  “Matt, what do you see yourself doing once your contract’s up?”

  “I still have two years. I haven’t thought about it much.” Until recently. For some reason, though, he wasn’t willing to talk to them about that.

  Darrin pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “You’re smarter than that. You know better, and you know how fleeting this game can be.”

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “So what are you trying to say, Reed?”

  Reed glanced towards Darrin, who was once more the alert agent rather than the disbelieving friend. “What I’m trying to say is that I—we——think that you could be a great coach. You know the game. Hell, you love the game. You’re great with the rookies and the younger players, and people respond to you. You’re a born leader, Matt, a born leader with a ton of baseball knowledge and in-game experience that would translate extremely well to a coaching position.”

  “So let me get this straight—you brought me up here not to let me play again, but to try to coerce me into retiring before my contract’s up so I can do something I’m not even sure I would enjoy? Got it.”

  “The thing is, Matt, there are only two years left on your contract. Considering your injury, and the fact that three of our pitchers are entering free agency in the off-season, we need to find a way to bring in another ace.”

  “Wait. So you want me to coach so you can bring in my replacement?” He couldn’t believe it. He’d been with the Wranglers organization his entire career—which was unheard of these days— and had even taken less money just so he could remain with the team. He’d been nothing but loyal, and this was what he got for that loyalty?

  Screw that.

  Knowing he was on the edge of saying a lot of things he could never take back, Matt opened the conference room door and hastily made his way outside. Sweltering heat greeted him.

  In the distance he could hear the sounds of bats hitting baseballs, accompanied by the occasional smack of a ball into a leather glove.

  God, he’d missed those sounds.

  There was a picnic table under the shade of a large oak tree on the side of the building, and Matt made his way over and sat on the table, looking out at the street in front of him. Cars whizzed by, occasionally drowning out the sounds of the ballpark behind him.

  Meanwhile, he felt like he was stuck, caught between two completely different worlds.

  One was the one he’d known for over ten years, the world he loved and had been lucky enough to make a career out of. The other was one he’d also known for years, almost his entire life, really, but that was still somehow new to him.

  On one hand, there was baseball. On the other, there was Jenn.

  Both of them held his heart in their hands.

  The hell of it was that without the implied threat of shipping him off somewhere else, Matt would have seriously considered the offer to coach within the Wranglers organization. Considering he still wasn’t completely sure what he wanted to do once he retired, it was a start, an offer. It was a way to remain involved with the game—and the organization—he loved long after he’d stepped off the mound.

  The implied threat, however, made him want to hop on the next plane back to Del Rio and walk away from baseball and straight into Jenn’s arms.

  Considering leaving her this morning had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, the thought was tempting.

  He wasn’t a quitter, though, so high-tailing it back to Texas wasn’t an option he was willing to choose at this point.

  Matt heard footsteps behind him, and then Reed appeared beside him, looking uncomfortab
le.

  “Listen, Matt, that didn’t come out like it should have.”

  “I’m not sure there were too many other ways for that to come out, Reed.”

  The other man sighed. “The thing is, we want to keep you in this organization. The fans love you, and everyone who works for the Wranglers respects you.”

  “It sure doesn’t feel like you respect me much right now, Reed.”

  He sat on the table next to Matt. “I probably respect you more than anyone I’ve ever known. You do things the right way. You’re a student of the game. You treat it seriously. You take care of yourself. You give back. You have so much more to offer than a nasty breaking ball—which the team does appreciate, by the way—and I would just hate to see you throw that future away by coming back too early and getting injured again.”

  “You do realize that ninety-nine point nine out of every one hundred pitches doesn’t directly hit the pitcher, right? What happened to me was pretty rare, statistically speaking.”

  “We know that. The problem is that the media and your average fan doesn’t know that, especially considering the number of high-profile pitchers who have been hit by comebackers over the past few years.”

  “And they’re all pitching again.”

  “They’re also much younger than you are.”

  “Jesus, Reed, you make me sound like I’m ancient.”

  “In baseball years you are ancient.”

  Reed spoke the truth, but Matt still didn’t like to hear it. “Be that as it may, we have a real shot of winning the World Series this year. After how close we were last year, I don’t want to let the team down.”

  “The only way you would let the team down is by coming back too soon and getting hurt again.”

  Matt shook his head. “Whereas to me, I’m letting the team down by not playing. I’ve been cleared. Hell, I’ll even wear one of those dorky looking protective padded caps if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Those have to be custom fitted.”

  “I’m sure we could get a rush order.”

  Reed snorted. “If we had more time I would feel a lot more comfortable letting you pitch again.”