by Faith O'Shea
“Have I agreed to that?”
“You’re not going to make me live alone, are you?”
He kissed her again until her head was spinning. She couldn’t come up with her name, never mind a reason not to.
“We’ll go to your place first, pick up some essentials and then christen the new bedroom.”
He opened her door, tucked her inside, and said, “Follow me.”
“Try to keep it close to the speed limit. My car doesn’t have wings like yours does.”
His arm was on the frame, his body bent as he looked in at her. “You want a new one?”
“No. I like my Bug.”
“Okay, but if you do, say the word.”
“You’re spending your money like it’s water. We’ll need to save something for our old age.”
She knew ball players didn’t get the thirty-year retirement watch. They had only so many good years before they had to quit.
“We’ll have plenty in our old age. My future wife is going to kill it.”
She laughed at that one. Even if she made some kind of incredible breakthrough, it didn’t necessarily mean she’d make it rich.
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
“Well if you don’t achiever fame and fortune, you’ll still have me.”
Still not believing this was real, she asked, “Why?”
“Because I love you, meu amor. It is that simple.”
“I thought you’d pick from the big leagues.”
Just before he closed her door he said, “Meu amor. You’re in a league all your own.”
When she let him into her small condo, he stood and glanced around, taking it in.
Almost apologetically, she said, “It’s kind of cramped.”
Scrambling over to the table, she began to tidy up the mess of papers she had out to write the syllabus. Her clothes were fresh out of the laundry, folded but not put away yet.
“You’ll have room in our place for an office. It’s kind of ironic. I put the deposit down thinking I wanted lots of space in case…”
She stopped what she was doing, a pile of notes in her hand, and looked over.
“In case?”
“I was going in blind, not knowing who I’d be living with. What if we didn’t get along as well as I’d hoped? I wanted room to escape if I needed to.” He added, “I could live here with you, and be perfectly content.”
She wasn’t sure. He liked what his money gave him, a fast car, a big house, expensive clothes but it was nice to hear.
“I still have several months on my lease. I’m not sure they’ll let me out of it.”
With a wave of his hand, he said, “We’ll pay it off.”
“How much money do we have?”
“In savings or in yearly income?”
“Yearly income.”
“I have one year left on my current contract at a little over five million, annually. I’ll be re-writing it next year, and if I can live up to my potential this season, I’m guaranteed more.”
“For playing a game?”
“I told you it’s not just a game. And just so you know, I’ve saved most of it over the last three years. Seems I’ve inherited my father’s financial genius.”
She knew her mouth was open, but she couldn’t seem to close it.
The smile her gave her was almost evil. “Just think. Our kids can’t lose. They have a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting your DNA, a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting mine, with bit contributions from all who came before.”
She’d thought of having kids in an abstract way but never considered the details. She knew one thing for sure.
“I’m not pushing them. They go at their own pace.”
“I agree, but we do want them to be challenged. They could get my propensity for boredom. And then what?”
“We’ll make sure they’re well supervised.”
He began to laugh then stopped. She watched as he walked over to the instrument sitting on its stand and picked it up. “You play this?”
The violin was a Fiddlerman master, not the most expensive brand, but it was hand crafted and had great sound and depth. If she ever traded up, she’d get another.
“In my down time.”
She wouldn’t have much of that now that she had her lab, and a new husband, not that she’d had a lot while working toward her doctorate. But she knew there’d still be times she’d be stymied by some problem and she’d pick it up. In the middle of playing, she’d somehow come up with a solution.
“How long have you been playing?”
“Since I was ten. I can play a couple of other instruments, but this was the most portable.”
He put the violin back where it came from.
“Did I mention our kids can’t lose?”
“You’re wrong. It’s not easy being smart.”
“I know. Felicia had some trouble along the way. Kids can be cruel but ours will have us. Love can heal anything.”
“And if one of them has my hair, and one of them has yours? Sibling rivalry aside, I can see a lot of resentment growing.”
“I will be partial to the ones who have your hair. It will make them as unique as their mother, whom I’ve come to adore.”
He’d come over to hold her. “Let’s get your things and go home. I can’t wait much longer to prove just how much.”
She gathered up some clothes, threw them in a duffel, along with a toothbrush and hair accessories. “I should clean out the refrigerator before we go.”
“Knowing you, there’s not much in there. We can come back tomorrow and do it. Will you have the time to pack up everything and move or should we get a moving company to do it?”
“I…”
She’d planned on finding a bigger place, closer to Boston, but hadn’t thought about the actual move or how she’d manage it.
“Moving company?”
“We’ll have to rent a storage unit. The condo is furnished.”
That should have bothered her, but domesticity wasn’t her strong suit. She could live just about anywhere, the background not of any import. There was one thing that was.
“Can we get a dog?”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, no pets. It might be a good thing. We have a lot on our plates right now. This time next year, we should be married and have a home of our own. Then we can think about adding to our family.”
Next year she’d be married. To this man. It still had a way of putting her on edge.
“You’re probably right but a dog would be good company while you’re gone.”
He came over and put his arm around her. “Maybe I can convince the owner to rethink it.”
Her head was resting against his shoulder, but he must have felt her stiffen.
“Is there something else?”
“I’m not sure we should get married until the season is over. Make sure this is what you want.”
He tilted her chin up. “Do you think this was an impulsive proposal?”
“You…you might be… This might just be a way to have what you thought you wanted.”
He chuckled. “You think I still believe every woman is the same, interchangeable, and that any woman will do. You’re wrong, meu amor. No other woman will do for me, only you. I knew before I left for Brazil, and only confirmed it when I got there. I sat in the club the first night in, and I was looking for you. You were the one I wanted to talk to, dance with, make love to. So, the next day, I spent time with my family, took Felicia shopping with me, and took a late flight out to come home. This is my home now. You are my heart. I will never be bored with you in my life.”
“And when you’re on the road?”
“I will be thinking of you always. I told you I would be faithful to the woman I married. I can promise you I will. Knowing you will be, as well, will make it easier to leave you.”
They didn’t wait until they got to their new place. They couldn’t.
Only when they were completely satiated with each other did they sto
p for some dinner and bring it home.
EPILOGUE
Fiona was standing with Izabella, at the gate waiting to board. She was nervous and fidgety.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Of course, it is. What are you afraid of?”
Spring training had started a couple of weeks ago and Izabella had convinced her to accompany her to Florida. She was surprising Reid with a quick weekend visit and thought Rique would be disappointed if she showed up alone.
“I don’t know. We haven’t known each other all that long. What if he’s figured out this is a mistake…?”
“Has he given you any reason to feel this way?”
He hadn’t. In fact, it was the reverse. The time they’d spent together before he left for Sanford had been easy, filled with conversation, laughter and passion. He never once complained about her hours, joined her many a night after his training or hung out with his friends, always home by the time she got there. Since leaving, he’d sent flowers, they’d Skyped, discussed the games for hours when he’d call, and he was proving he had the potential to be one of the great shortstops in the league. And he’d told her numerous times it was because of her.
“No.”
Izabella placed a hand on her arm and looked right into her eyes.
“My brother has been looking for someone to love for a very long time. He comes from a loving family and I knew once he made up his mind, that would be it. You have to trust it is good.”
That was the sticking point. She did know it was good. At least she had earlier this morning. when she’d dropped Dylan, her rescued black and white terrier mix, off at Melinda and Jim’s. Somehow Rique had convinced the owner of the condo they were leasing that a small dog wouldn’t hurt anything, and he’d gotten permission to house one. She’d bet her right arm he’d paid big-time in order to give her what she wanted. Love had washed over her as she squeezed her buddy goodbye. Rique was doing thoughtful things all the time, even from the road, and she didn’t know why she was so nervous about surprising him. They’d talked about her attending some of his games and she promised that once she got the lab up and running, she’d be there, at least for a weekend. But she hadn’t told him this was the weekend. She’d left Bohdan in charge, with a couple of assistants, students who’d volunteered to be part of the research. She was putting them on stipends, at least until she worked out the budget she’d been working on. This was new to her, but she was learning how to manipulate the numbers with some help from Rique, who offered his father’s expertise as soon as the man was in town. She’d yet to meet his family. That was another month away. They’d be coming to Boston for opening day and Rique had planned a whole weekend around it. She wasn’t sure how she’d fare with such a loving family, but she wasn’t going to worry about it until she had to.
She walked down the tunnel and stepped onto the plane, rethinking the first-class ticket. The price had been exorbitant, and she wasn’t used to squandering money, but if she was going to sit with Izabella, she’d had no choice.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”
“Trust me. You can afford it.”
“I can’t even afford my daily coffee yet.”
“That’s only because you’re being obstinate about spending his money.”
“That’s the operative word. Until we’re married, it’s his.”
“The only reason you’re not yet is because you want to wait until the end of the season. If it had been up to Rique, you would be. What are you planning? A big, fat Brazilian bash?”
They’d talked about it and decided to forego the destination wedding and hold it in their hometown. She hadn’t spent her life dreaming about the day she’d say I do, like others did, and had no idea how she’d go about it. Rique had offered his mother’s services to help with the details. She was definitely going to take him up on that. It would be better than conferring with her own. She’d be no help what-so-ever. Clare didn’t return calls more often than she did.
“We’re going for smaller, more intimate.”
“Not sure how you’ll manage that. We have a very big family and then there’s the ball players who’ll be invited, the manager, the coaches, his friends, your friends.”
“Stop. I’m not good in crowds and he knows it.”
“You’ll be fine. You don’t really remember anything about the day anyway. Too caught up in the sentimentality and emotion of it all. Have I ever told you how glad I am we’ll be sisters?”
“A couple of times.”
“And how grateful I am he chose so wisely. I trust you with my brother and his heart.”
Izabella knew she’d take good care of it.
They chatted most of the flight down, about how her lab was coming along, Izabella’s work, about their families, about the weather. It was only when she felt the wheels grind down that the butterflies in her stomach began a flutter fall. By the time the cab dropped them in front of the hotel, their wings had gotten tangled into a tight knot.
What if the time away had diminished his feelings? How would she react when she saw him? Would he be surprised and happy she was there, or surprised and dismayed?
What the fuck is wrong with you? How many ways does he have to prove he loves you?
While she was standing at the registration desk, a group of ballplayers came off the elevator. When she caught a glimpse of Rique, her heart stuttered. He was wearing the mandatory suit and tie. Looking so damn good should be illegal. She took in her fill, from the rugged looks, to the athletically toned body. And then he looked up, as if he could feel her eyes on him. His eyes widened and his face glowed in pleasure. He said something to Mattie and Seb and rushed over to grab her up off the ground.
“How did you know I wanted you here? I texted you before I came down, but you didn’t answer. God, I’ve missed you.”
When her feet were back on the tiled floor, he kissed her and every nervous thought she’d had evaporated.
“I wasn’t sure—”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Anticipation would have made it sweeter.”
Izabella had come over and handed her a key card. “It was a last-minute change of heart. She said she couldn’t afford it. I told her she could. Could you please get her a credit card? I want company when I come down.”
She must have texted Reid because he came racing out of the elevator and toward them, gave his wife the same kind of warm welcome.
“Today. I’ll get one today.” He looked into Fiona’s eyes and said, “Use it. Please. Daily if you want to commute to the lab from here.”
He was an affectionate man, with such a loving nature, and it was helping lower her inhibitions about telling someone how she felt.
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He returned the sentiment just as Reid said, “We have to get going.”
“I wish—”
“I know. Me, too. The anticipation should make it sweeter.”
His finger had found a stray curl and it clung as he stroked her cheek.
“You still love me?”
There was concern in his expression that she didn’t understand. Considering who they were, how they looked, that should have been her line. Might have been if she’d been open and honest.
“How could I not, dark and handsome?”
“I need you to love me for more than my looks.”
She fiddled with his hair, the sincerity in his eyes making her dizzy.
“I’ve loved you from the minute you appeared in Izabella’s doorway toweling your hair dry.”
“Same for me.”
She laughed then. “I was a bedraggled mess. You can’t mean it.”
“You were glowering at me and it kind of turned me on.”
“You’re crazy.”
“About you. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
“You’ll have the rest of our lives to make it up to me.”
“And I prom
ise, I won’t waste one second.”
They fell into each other’s eyes, and she could read the love there. She’d spend the rest of her life making him feel hers.
“I think you have a bus waiting for you.”
He kissed her once more and didn’t let go of her hand until he had no choice.
As she sat in the stands, she followed the play with a keen eye and growing fascination. She’d been watching the Grapefruit League games since they started, read the sports page first thing every morning. She was getting used to seeing Rique’s name in print more often than not, at times for his skill, at others for his leadership on the field. Today he was proving again why he might out-shortstop every other player. Even though he only played four innings, he’d won the game with his five-foot leap and catch and a homerun his last time at the plate.
As she looked around the section of wives and girlfriends, the smiles and excitement making her feel a part of something she’d never experienced before it felt surreal. She was succeeding in her chosen field, but willingly taking time away from it, forming friendships, expanding the meaning of family, opening up to affection and feeling whole for the first time in her life. All because of the man who loved her.
Now if he’d just stop calling her Fifi in the lab…
To My Readers
When I was writing Thrown for a Curve, I decided I needed to tell Enrique dos Santos’ story and although it took some time, I finally got to it. I’m not sure it had to do with who he was, or what sport he played. More than likely it was a combination of the two. He was spoiled and pampered, and I needed to take him down a notch.
So, I began to imagine what kind of woman would be capable of that, and Fiona Barrows began to come into focus. She needed to be smarter than he was, and she just so happened to have a doctoral degree in genetics. She was on the opposite end of the spectrum of what Rique was looking for in a wife. He wanted a beautiful Brazilian wife, with long, flowing dark hair, who would dote on him, cook him elaborate meals and attend to his every need.
It was a lot of fun seeing him fall for a curly-haired blonde, with no culinary skills whatsoever, who was not the doting type. In fact, she was able to put him in his place with ease.
