“I can’t thank you enough, Ms. Neely. You’ll never know how much I appreciate this.” I plant kisses on the twins’ heads and run my fingers through Tristan’s unruly locks. He’s in dire need of a haircut.
“If I had a handsome baseball player waiting for me, I’d skip out first chance I got.” She winks.
“You make me feel bad.” Selfish even. I’ve always been there for the kids, so taking time for myself seems odd.
“All you do is work and be a mother. Which is okay when you have someone to share it with, but when you’re single, you have to enjoy a little on the side. Otherwise, you’ll go crazy.” She tips her head as if to prove a point.
Warmth floods my face at her assumption. I do have plans to enjoy some on the side, but I hate making it obvious. “Ms. Neely, I don’t even know what to say to that.”
She laughs. “Say nothing, just enjoy.”
“Anyway, I placed fresh sheets on the bed, and their backpacks are ready to go. You have my cell, in case of problems.”
“We’ll be fine, honey. Don’t worry. Okay, kids, say goodbye to your mother.”
I hug Tristan and Trenna and sprinkle them with more kisses. Fresh energy fills my insides as I back the car out and take the drive to the heart of the city. I can’t wait to see the look on Jax’s face when I arrive, just as requested, wearing only a jersey top and leggings, nothing underneath. He’ll be completely surprised.
The only downside to the plan is the dreadful drive downtown. As much as I hate commuting by subway, it still beats driving in traffic. Especially, stalled traffic. It leads to too much time, which leaves an opening for doubt to creep in. And that’s a dangerous thing to succumb to. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythmic beat of whatever song is playing. A desperate ploy to stop my mind from racing back to high school, senior year. A past life when I was excited to surprise a guy. What if…no! I won’t play that game. It only leads to speculation, and I trust Jax. I do.
Before I turn the car around or ruin my surprise by dialing him, I put Lacey on speakerphone.
“What are you doing calling me? I thought you’d be with Jax.”
“I’m getting there. I had a slight change in plans.” I explain the predicament Carl left us in and then the idea I concocted.
“Your ex is just… There are no words.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Thank God for your neighbor coming through. I know their game ended—in a win, I may add—so you two may arrive about the same time.”
“He said I can get a key from the front desk in case I need it. I’m nervous.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. He eyes you like his last breath depends on it.”
“He does not, but thanks. I knew you’d give me a confidence booster.”
“You don’t need help. You just need to go claim your man.”
“That I plan on doing.” The hotel comes into view and maneuvering over there will require my concentration. “I’m here, so I’ll talk to ya tomorrow.”
“Have fun.” Her singsong voice rings off as I pull along the curb of the swanky hotel. The valet validates everything, and in no time, I’m grabbing the key from the concierge like it’s a life preserver and making my way to the elevator. I do hope I beat him to the room.
Nothing can derail my mood. My heart races when the door slides open, and I step into the hallway. Destination—room 1515.
Fifty steps to strong arms wrapping around and holding me. God, I miss his touch. His warmth. He told me he loved me back in Florida. I was too lost in the moment and didn’t say it back. But part of me thinks he was caught up in the moment too since he hasn’t said it since.
Thirty steps to an evening of uninterrupted sex. I love my kids, but the last week of being together in Florida was extremely difficult to get alone time. Impossible even. Although the send-off sex was pretty incredible.
Ten steps to being inside his personal world. This is the first time I’ll see him since he started his real job—baseball. This feels more intimate knowing I’m a part of what would be considered his norm. Do people realize how many nights away from home these players spend? Having a front row seat, I didn’t even realize. Leave it to me to fall for a guy who can only offer a long-distance relationship.
Zero steps to my heart beating profusely. Room 1515. I pull the key card out but hover over the key reader. My excitement mixes with apprehension at the sound of the television. Either he beat me here, or he’s the type of person who leaves the television on all day. Or…
I withdraw the card and verify the room number against the wall plate. Numbers match. Never wanting to see my boyfriend boning anyone ever again, I opt to knock.
A few seconds to the door swinging open, and a perky brunette wearing a silky black camisole greets me.
A millisecond to my heart breaking.
Chapter Twenty-Six
JAX
Current Day
“I can’t believe you have to shack up with me like we’re in college.” Zach punches the hotel’s elevator button, while my phone buzzes in my pocket.
“Believe me, it’s not by choice. God, what now?” I shake my head in frustration at Cara’s latest text. “By chance do you know where Drake’s heading?”
“Not a clue.” Zach and I step into the elevator. He slides the key card and punches the number fifteen button. “Why?”
“Because I got another urgent message from Cara. I swear that girl’s crazy.”
“Nah, you forget she’s like what, eighteen or nineteen?”
“Yeah, suppose. But her last urgent message was if she could order room service.”
“At least she’s considerate.”
I shoot him a look. “The second urgent message was if she could order pay-per-view movies because she was bored. She’s stuck in a room. Of course, I don’t care. I can’t even imagine what this one’s about.”
“Glad she went to your room and not mine.”
“Yeah, but if AJ finds out, he’s going to be pissed at me for not telling him. Technically, I’m points ahead by not taking him to the hospital.”
“I can’t believe he couldn’t remember anything about that night.”
“If that blonde did slip something into his drink, we need to be careful if she shows up again. Even though he was grateful we didn’t take him to the hospital, I still feel bad. His worry about being traded trumps finding out the truth. But something isn’t right.”
“Wish I could remember who she was, but I seriously doubt he was drugged.”
“I don’t know, but she knows Lacey and Jocelyn are best friends.” That gets his attention.
“What do you mean?” The elevator jerks to a stop, and we step into the hallway.
“She wanted me to leave with her. Said you were gone and couldn’t tell your wife.” I press Cara’s number. “Let me see what’s so urgent.”
“Do you even know what urgent means?” A sharp voice greets me.
“I was in the elevator.”
“Yeah, well there was some girl that showed up. She took one look at me and left upset.”
My stomach drops to my knees. “Did she give a name. Was it Jocelyn?”
Zach whips his head to mine, wearing the typical oh, shit expression—eyes wide, mouth gaping. So not helping, buddy.
“No, she didn’t let me explain. She took in what I was wearing and bolted.”
“Fuck!” I grab my hair and pull. “What are your wearing?”
“My negligée.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuucckk!” I should’ve warned Jocelyn about this.
A gasp makes me turn toward an elderly woman walking toward the elevator, her hands clasping a little boy’s ears.
“Sorry, ma’am.” I close my eyes in frustration and focus on Cara. “How long ago?”
“About five minutes.”
I spin and punch the down button. Maybe I can still catch her. The woman pulls the boy against her as if she needs to protect him from the
foul-mouthed lunatic. To her defense, I am acting like one. But damn it, a simple text would’ve prevented this.
“Jocelyn came here to surprise me, and Cara opened the door in her negligée.”
“Shit.”
“Do you two mind?” The woman shoots daggers at Zach. “Impressionable ears.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He presses his lips together and turns back to me. “She still may be here. Would she have driven? I’ll call—”
His phone cuts him off. He waves it in the air. “It’s a text from Lacey, asking if I know why there’s a woman in your hotel room.”
“Ask her if she knows where Jocelyn is.” She has to still be at the hotel. I turn to face the elevator and glare as if it would make the mechanisms move faster. Come on, you slow-moving piece of shit.
“She’s talking to her now. She’s near the lobby. I’ll tell her to stall her.”
The door slides open, and I hop in, punching the lobby button. The woman and the child hesitate but join me.
“Grandma, I wanted to hit the button.”
“You could’ve asked,” the woman huffs, glaring at me.
Seriously? Can’t you see I’m in a middle of a crisis? I need to get to her. I haven’t done anything wrong, but with the added trust issues. I can’t imagine what’s going through Jocelyn’s mind.
The old woman grabs the boy’s hand and pushes him toward the panel. “Here, honey. Press any button you want.”
I lunge forward. “No, don’t…” But I’m too late. All I can do is watch in horror as each button from here to the lobby illuminates. Son of a bitch.
Shell-shocked, I tap my fingers against my leg as the elevator slows to a stop at each floor. After the fourth stop, I can’t take it any longer. Jocelyn’s going to give up and leave. As soon as the door slides open, I dart into the hallway and scan the area for the staircase. Sayonara, kid.
In less than two seconds, I fly down the steps as if trying to beat out a double play. My feet don’t stop until they reach the lower level. I spring through the door and scan the lobby, my breathing heavier than it should for being a professional athlete. My heart squeezes when I spot her. Jocelyn’s arms are crossed and her shoulders are hunched in as she stands to leave.
“Jocelyn, wait.” My voice comes out no louder than a mouse’s squeak. I push to a sprint. “Jocelyn.”
This time she turns to face me, and her tear-streaked face guts me to the core. Unlike earlier with Cara when I didn’t know what was going on, this pain is caused by me. Indirectly or not.
“Hey.” I drape my arm around her and pull her into my chest. Partly because I want her next to me, it’s been so fucking long, but also because I want to protect her. Nowadays everyone thinks they’re a photographer loaded with their cell phones in hand. Nobody needs to see my woman in pain. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
“I know. Lacey explained.” Her weak voice doesn’t help ease my worry.
“Why are you leaving if you know?”
She burrows farther against my shoulder, sobs racking her body. “I’m too embarrassed to face you.”
“Hey”—I cup her chin and lift it slightly—“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I would’ve thought the same thing if I came to your room and some random guy opened the door in his boxers.” I would’ve demanded he tell me who the fuck he was, but that’s just me.
“I’m still ashamed.”
“Let’s go back to the room so we can talk.” I wipe the smudge from under her eye. “In private.”
“Is she gone?”
“Fuck! No. And I’m sharing a room with Zach.”
“I can go home. I ruined the surprise anyway.” She lowers her voice. “Nothing good ever comes from surprises.”
Those words jar me back to a ten-year-old memory. One where her surprise turned on her like this time. Fuck. No wonder she’s so upset.
“Hell, no, you’re not going home. I’ve been dying to get you alone. No way you’re leaving now.” She squeezes me tighter, and I don’t want to let her go. Ever. “I’ll get that suite now. You’re mine, and you’re not escaping.”
“I feel awful. The first test to prove my trust, I failed. Epically.”
“Dixie, it’s not a contest. Life is hard enough.”
She remains quiet while I pay for the suite. On the way to our room, I can’t help but hate how our greeting went. I certainly had other ideas how it’d go down. I interlace our fingers to give her reassurance.
“I feel like I ruined our reunion.”
“You’re here with me.” I glance down at her and take in her appearance—a dark pair of leggings covered by a Phillies jersey that sports my number. But that’s not what grabs my attention. That attribute goes to the two hardened peaks pointing outward, looking totally delectable. Totally fuckable. My body reacts, standing at full attention as I pull her against me once again. Her eyes fill with desire when I run her hand along my hardened length. “Nothing’s ruined. Whether you like it or not, my body belongs to you.”
I’m usually not this capitulating, but she needs to know exactly what she does to me. What she means to me. And how committed I am. Her insecurities run deep, as expected. But I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve never wanted to be the man I became—not really, and certainly not with her back in my life.
“I like that.” Her soft-eyed glance lingers even after the elevator door slides open.
It takes great strength to tear myself away. But I have to keep touching her. I grip her hand tighter, refusing to let go even as I dig the key card back out. The kids will be with us tomorrow, and we’ll have no choice but to be platonic. But tonight, I’m selfish and marking my claim. Tonight, I’ll prove how committed I am to this relationship. I already told her I love her, but that was right before ramming into her. Not very romantic. And not the perfect setup for her to return the sentiment.
Once we’re in the privacy of our suite, all inhibitions leave. I pull her into my arms, and I swear the sound vibrating from my chest is my heart cracking as I hold her against me. I missed her so much.
“It feels so good to have you with me.” My words come out raspy and rough, each syllable laden with emotion. I’m fighting the urge to pick her up and toss her on the bed. Those rigid peaks, poking my chest and practically begging for me to devour them, don’t help my cause. But I’m slammed with sudden guilt about making this reunion sexual. I want tonight to mean more. Truth, I’d be content just holding her in my arms. Pay no mind to the rock-hard bulge in my pants; he has a mind of his own.
“I’m still so embarrassed.” She buries her head against my shoulder.
“Don’t be.” I run my hand down the length of her hair and kiss the top of her head. “I’m just glad we’re together. How’d you swing it?”
“Ms. Neely.”
“I owe that woman a gift or something. Is she a Phillies fan?”
“No. She’s probably mad at you for beating her team.”
“I’d apologize, but it’s my job to keep the rivalry fans ‘pissed off.’” My hands skim across the smooth, satiny number twelve and settle on her waist. “Nice shirt, by the way. You listened to me.”
“Of course.”
She has no idea what those two words do to me. She may as well have added “Mr. Carrigan” to the end.
Before I lose total control, I clear my throat. “Let’s check out the view.”
I grab her hand, once again, our feet traipsing across the carpet until we’re standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the heart of the city. Jocelyn peers at Manhattan’s backdrop of lights, an appreciative gleam settling in her expression.
“This is the best part of the city.”
I agree wholeheartedly, but my focus isn’t on the lights. No, the woman standing in front of me holds my full attention. And she tops every “top ten” chart any search engine provides. Nothing else compares.
“I never wanted to live in the city. Not long-term anyway.” Her voice is lo
w, almost confessional.
“You want to leave the city?”
“Someday. Don’t get me wrong, I love the energy. The pulse, it’s like the city has its own heartbeat.” Her hand sweeps across the view. “Such a beautiful sight but this isn’t what I see through my picture window.”
A hint of sadness coats her features, and I run my hand along her arm. With the risk of getting ahead of myself, I file this information for future reference, because picturing a future with Jocelyn is so damn easy. I lower my lips to the top of her head. A soft moan escapes from her mouth as she nestles against my shoulder. What this woman does to me. I’m so fucking hard it’s to the point of being painful.
I fight every urge that begs me to take her. I was wrong earlier. Tonight isn’t about me—it’s about her. I won’t make the first move. I want her to know our relationship means more than the physical side, even with my balls straining in protest.
“Should we sit down?” I motion to the small sofa facing the windows.
She spins around and drapes her arms around my neck, her fingers tickling the hairs that outline my neckline. “Is this what you want to do all night? Talk?”
My lips twitch as an unusual warmth floods my cheeks. “I thought maybe you’d want more together time. That way you’ll know you mean more to me than sex.”
“Jax, every moment you spend with the kids and me proves that you’re in this for more than just sex.”
Hmm, never thought of it like that.
“So quit talking and kiss me. Tomorrow we won’t get a chance.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I match my mouth to hers and slowly massage her lips. She parts her mouth, an invite I gladly accept but only with half a tease. My hands fall to her ass. She slowly unbuttons the jersey. When the shirt opens and slides off her, I breathe in deeply and move her to the bed. Even though we’re on the fifteenth floor, I don’t want to chance all of Manhattan getting a peep show.
Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2) Page 19
