Dare to Breathe

by S. B. Alexander

  My groin reacted to her sultry voice. We’d had more sex in the last several weeks than we’d had all of last year, and boy, what a ride it had been. Maybe that was one of the reasons I hadn’t had a headache, although now that I thought about it, we didn’t have sex last night. She’d been so tired that she’d fallen asleep as soon as we returned from dinner. Plus, the time change didn’t help.

  Suddenly, all thought disappeared as I laid eyes on her naked breasts. As she sat up, her messy hair fell forward before she cleared it from her face.

  I pounced, and in a flash, I had her on her back, hovering over her.

  She giggled. “One night without sex, and you’re a madman. I wonder what you did when I was away at college.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously? How many times did we have phone sex?” Man, those calls had been the bomb. I would tell her what I would do to her, and she would moan and moan until her release while I jacked off.

  She rubbed herself against me. “Did I hear my phone ring earlier?”

  I sucked on a nipple. “You want to talk about a ringing phone?”

  She latched on to my dick. “No.”

  When she spewed that word, I tore off my boxer briefs and buried myself inside her. She arched into me, and I nibbled and sucked anywhere on her body I could reach until we were both groaning in pure unadulterated pleasure.

  Three hours later, after another heart-pumping lovemaking session, we were at Dodger Stadium. I wasn’t a huge baseball fan, at least not a Dodgers fan. But I couldn’t help the awe that rippled through me as I stood on the field, even more so as I watched Lacey throw pitch after pitch. Her slider was spot-on. Her curveball was a little shaky, but her fastball topped all of her pitches.

  The African-American man standing behind the catcher pointed a radar gun, clocking Lacey’s pitches. Lacey had informed me that Brice Thames was the one who was skeptical of a woman on his Triple-A team. However, the awe on his face as the ball thudded into the catcher’s mitt might change his mind.

  Their scout, Tony Greer, who lingered next to Brice, shouted out, “Ninety-two. Well done, Lacey.”

  The handful of players scattered around exchanged shocked looks.

  My phone vibrated against my leg. I dipped into the pocket of my jeans and pulled it out. “Hey, James.”

  “Did you get my text? Have you had a chance to talk to Lacey? The DA is wanting to meet with her today.”

  “She’s right in the middle of showing the Dodgers what she’s made of. So, no. I don’t plan on it, either. I thought about it.” Hell, that was all I’d kept thinking about on our way to the stadium. “She doesn’t need to get involved with Harrison’s case.”

  “I don’t like this any better than you. But if her testimony can keep my old man in jail another year, then I’ll take that.” He huffed out a grunt. “Have you proposed yet?”

  A wave of confusion crossed over me at how he bounced from one subject to the other. I walked along the first baseline toward right field. “Boy, that came out of nowhere. I haven’t. She’s distracted, and I want her full attention.”

  I’d asked him for her hand in marriage over three months ago. He was elated that I was finally going to pop the question. Other than him, my father and my best friend, Hunt, knew too. I was careful to keep the news to only those individuals. If I told my brothers, I was afraid word would leak to their girlfriends, then Lacey would find out.

  “Kade,” James said. “Are you backing out of the proposal?”

  I threaded my fingers through my hair. “You didn’t call me to talk about the proposal.” As I turned around to watch Lacey, my heart stopped. “Fuck.” I ran toward the mound. Flashes of the past played before me in slow motion. The first time Lacey tried out for the high school baseball team, she’d blacked out and fallen face-first in the middle of a pitch.

  “What’s wrong?” James asked in a panicked voice.

  “Lacey is throwing up. I’ll call you back.”

  The players around her stayed in their positions almost looking dumbfounded.

  I squatted down, thankful at least that she wasn’t out cold.

  She heaved up her breakfast once more before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Blowing a breath, she closed her eyes for a second before she hopped to her feet, rolled her shoulders back, and eyed Brice. “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look fine.

  Brice didn’t say a word as he continued to fixate on Lacey.

  Tony Greer, who stood next to Brice, had concern written all over his face. Hell, I had to have the same look. I’d seen Lacey black out, have nightmares, and experience panic attacks, but I’d never seen her get sick.

  I laid a hand on her back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She batted her long lashes at me. “Never better.”

  Liar.

  I wasn’t about to say that out loud, though. I knew she was trying to prove to these men that a woman could cut it in the big leagues, although her puking in front of the people she had to convince probably wasn’t boding well for her. For that reason, my heart sank to the mound.

  Finally, Brice spoke. “I’ve seen enough.” He raised his voice, regarding the players. “Thanks, guys, for helping out today.”

  They converged in the dugout. Tony left Brice’s side to chat with one of the players.

  With a white-as-snow face, Lacey tucked her glove underneath her arm and sashayed up to Brice. “Did I convince you?” Her tone was a little shaky.

  Brice raked his gaze over her. “We can’t have you puking on the mound in a game. I get the nerves, but I—”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Lacey said. “I think I have the flu or ate bad food.” Her tone was even.

  Brice removed his Dodgers hat, swiped a hand over his head, then placed the hat back on. “We’ll be in touch.” He collected his bag before leaving the field.

  I had the urge to call him a rude ass. Instead I bit my tongue as I sidled up to Lacey. I wasn’t there to get in the middle of her career. I was there to support her, and mouthing off to her potential manager wouldn’t have done her any good, although it would have made me feel better.

  Lacey dropped her head back, glancing up at the clear blue sky. When she righted her head, she grabbed her stomach.

  The catcher, a somewhat tall guy, broad in the shoulders and wearing an easy smile, moseyed over. “If it’s any consolation, I was nervous the day I had to prove myself. You’re good, Lacey Robinson.” He turned to Tony Greer behind him. “She belongs on the team.”

  Tony scratched the top of his bald head. “I know that. Right now it’s Brice’s call. Upper management is leaving the decision to him.”

  Lacey flicked off her ball cap. “Please look past my sickness,” she said to Tony. “You know I can do this. You’ve watched me for the last two years.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I know you can play. Again, it’s not up to me.”

  The catcher said to Lacey, “I hope to see you again.” He jogged off with the rest of the players.

  “Thanks for your help today,” Lacey shouted. No sooner had she said the last word than she covered her mouth with her hand and bolted off the field through the dugout.

  I was about to follow, when Tony held out his hand. “Kade, can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to give me an answer. In fact, I could lose my job by asking with all the discrimination laws in this country. But I don’t care. I believe in Lacey and her talent. After Lacey left the meeting yesterday, Holly, Brice’s assistant, mentioned to me that she thought Lacey might be pregnant. Is that true?”

  I choked. “Come again?” Lacey pregnant? That couldn’t be. She was on the pill and had been since I met her. “Did Lacey tell Holly that?”

  He mashed his lips into a thin line. “Not really. Call it a woman’s intuition, although with Lacey throwing up, maybe Holly’s right.” He twisted his wedding band around on his finger. “With the Pregnancy Discrimination Act, we can’t use her pregnancy as a reason n
ot to sign her, although I suspect a doctor would recommend that she couldn’t play after six or eight weeks into her pregnancy. Still, we have more than six weeks of games coming up.”

  The empty blue seats spun before me. Blackness crept into my peripheral vision. So many things ran rampant through my mind. If she were pregnant, then she wouldn’t play baseball, which meant she wouldn’t be traveling. Then we could get married and settle down sooner like I wanted to. Selfish ass. Regardless, I wanted to shout to the vacant stadium that I was going to be a dad—something I’d been dreaming about since I met Lacey. Okay, well not the minute I met her, but I’d always imagined how our kids would look.

  My niece, Raven, looked exactly like my mom with black hair and blue eyes. Actually, she resembled my triplet brothers, especially her father, Kross. I pictured my child having Lacey’s luscious green eyes and wavy brown hair, maybe even a head full of curls whether we had a boy or a girl.

  Tony snapped his long fingers. “Kade, are you okay?”

  Hell no.

  My mind waged a war. Lacey wouldn’t be happy if she were pregnant, and even though I would be over the fucking moon, we both had to want a child. That was how a relationship worked.

  Tony clutched my arm. “It could very well be the flu or bad food like Lacey said.”

  I chuckled, the act calming me for the moment.

  Tony lowered his gaze to his watch. “We have a meeting to discuss Lacey.”

  “Who else knows about this besides you and Holly?” If Brice knew, he would definitely not give her a shot.

  He dipped his head. “Just Holly and me. Again, it’s all speculation on Holly’s part. She is rooting for Lacey too. But after her throwing up on the mound—”

  “She’s not pregnant,” I blurted out.

  He arched an eyebrow. “The shock on your face tells me you really don’t know the answer. Look, this speculation isn’t going to change my vote. However, regardless if she is or isn’t, she can’t be throwing up in a game. I know that is now a concern of Brice’s. I’m going to be late.” He sauntered off and up the steps behind home plate.

  I went in search of my girl, thinking of Lacey pregnant. Man, I wanted her to be more than anything in this world. But I also wanted her to be happy, and that meant playing baseball, whether it was with the Dodgers or not.

  My heart rate sped up as I entered the ladies’ restroom not far from the men’s locker room, even more so when I heard Lacey crying. I kicked my legs into gear as I turned a corner, passing the stalls and heading into an open area where I found her bent over one of five sinks, puking and crying at the same time.

  I smoothed a hand over her sweaty hair. Then I kissed her head.

  She simpered as she locked eyes with me in the mirror. “You’re a brave man for coming near me while I’m losing my breakfast and last night’s dinner.”

  I moved over to lean against the counter. “I love you, puke and all.”

  A tear slid down her face. “I can’t believe I puked out on the mound. They’ll never sign me now.”

  I caught the tear before it dropped on her T-shirt. “It happens.”

  She laughed nervously. “A guy wouldn’t puke.”

  I touched her forehead much like my mom had done when she thought us boys had been sick as kids. “You don’t know that.” She didn’t feel as though she had a fever. “So do you think you’re sick from bad food?”

  She shrugged. “I started feeling icky while I was waiting for the meeting yesterday. It’s just nerves.”

  She could be right. “So according to Tony, Brice’s assistant thinks you’re pregnant.”

  A deep crease formed between her eyebrows. “I’m not. I’m on the pill.” Then her eyes glazed over, no doubt thinking hard.

  For several seconds, we stared at each other until the trilling sound of my phone ringing severed our connection. “James.”

  Lacey splashed water on her face.

  “She’s okay,” I said in lieu of hello.

  She snagged a paper towel then grabbed the phone from me. “I’m fine, Dad. Yeah. I’ll call you later.” She handed the phone back to me. “He wants to talk to you.”

  No doubt. But the LA DA could wait. I had something far more important to discuss with my girl. I walked around the corner to where the stalls were so there wouldn’t be a chance Lacey could hear her father.

  “Call the DA,” James said. “Do it now.” His tone permitted no argument.

  I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle James on his insistency over the DA. “I’ll handle it,” I bit out before I ended the call. I was certain Lacey heard me snap at her father.

  When I cleared the corner, she was patting her face with a paper towel. “You and my dad fighting?”

  “The DA in LA wants to talk to you about your grandfather’s parole hearing.”

  She chewed on her lip, staring at herself in the mirror.

  I gripped the sides of her arms from behind. “You don’t have to do this.”

  She twirled around so we were facing each other. “Maybe I am pregnant.”

  I could feel my eyebrows coming together. “Did you hear what I said about the parole hearing?”

  “What if I am pregnant,” she said more than asked. She touched her stomach. “Oh my God. I wouldn’t be able to play baseball.” Panic coated every word.

  I literally scratched my head as I edged back. I shouldn’t have been surprised or hurt at her shock and disappointment, but I was. I wanted to say, “What about marriage? What about starting a family?” But relationships were give and take. Still, I was ready to combust. I was ready to tie her down so she couldn’t leave me again. Selfish or not, I shouldn’t beat myself up for wanting to start a life with the woman I love—the same woman who had such a strong fucking hold on my heart that I now understood why Kelton had always been so closed off to love. “Women break your heart,” he’d said.

  Lacey placed a soft hand on my rough jaw. “Hey, are you in there? Did you hear me?”

  Loud and clear.

  As though she knew what I was thinking, she said, “I know we’ve been apart a long time, but if they offer me a contract, I can’t pass that up.” She was almost in tears.

  Ah, hell. I would never tell her not to go. As much as I wanted her to stay, I loved her too much to take away her dream. She would always resent me too.

  She locked her hands around my neck; her acid breath was almost dragon fire. “I love the crap out of you, Kade Maxwell. I just can’t be pregnant right now. No team would sign me if I was carrying a baby. They might not even like it if I get married.”

  Well, there went that proposal. Heat gripped my cheeks like a vise. “Why would they protest if we got married?”

  She let go of me. “They would think if I was married, then a baby would be next. As a female, I don’t have it as easy as a man would have.”

  My nostrils flared even though I knew she was right. “According to Tony, they won’t know if you’re pregnant unless you tell them. He said something about discrimination laws and a pregnancy discrimination act.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “It probably doesn’t matter now. If they suspect I’m pregnant, then they won’t even consider me.” Tears flowed down her rosy cheeks. “They’ll probably come up with some excuse other than pregnancy.”

  I tipped up her chin. “Tony and Holly are rooting for you. I am too.”

  Her hands slid up my chest. Her touch electrified and centered me even though I swayed to one side.

  She tapped my face. “Are you all right? You’re the one now who looks white as a ghost.”

  Maybe I had vertigo, and that was the reason for my dizziness lately.

  I shuddered. “I can’t breathe without you.” I cupped her gorgeous face. “But I want you to have the world.”

  She gave me an award-winning smile. “Regardless of what the Dodgers decide, I would be ecstatic if I were carrying your child.”

  Man, a wave of relief settled over me. “Our child. First
, we should find out if you’re pregnant.”

  For the longest moment, she gave me a contemplative look. “My period is due next week. So let’s wait on that.” She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed me. Then she giggled. “I’m sorry. My breath is nasty.”

  I tapped her on the nose. “It is, but I would kiss you, anyway.”

  “Let’s go back to the hotel,” she said. “I need mouthwash and a nap. I feel like someone sucked the wind out of me.”

  I rubbed her neck. “What about the DA?”

  “Can we talk to him later this afternoon after I visit Julie’s and Mom’s graves?”

  If it were up to me, I would say no. But maybe trying to help keep her grandfather behind bars would help tame Lacey’s PTSD.

  Chapter 6

  Lacey

  The balmy LA weather enveloped me as I sat on the grass, staring at the headstones of my sister and my mom. When they were first buried, I would sit for hours and hours, even falling asleep right in this very spot. It had been years since I’d been there. For some odd reason, the cemetery gave me a sense of peace. I plucked a blade of grass, then another, thinking back on my life since their deaths.

  I wished I was totally healed from my PTSD, but Dr. Davis had said that I would probably never be rid of the symptoms or the memories or flashbacks. I’d done a good job while in college with the occasional panic attack that didn’t affect my everyday life like it had in high school. But with the news of my grandfather’s parole, all bets were off the table.

  The nightmares were coming in full force. Heck, I had even sleepwalked for the first time since their funeral. Maybe it was best if I did testify against my grandfather’s parole. I’d never gotten the chance to get up on the stand when he was on trial all those years ago. The government didn’t need me then. My father’s testimony had been enough along with other indisputable facts of the case.

  Regardless, I wanted to whisper out loud to Julie and Mom and tell them that my future was bright and sunny and full of great things. I couldn’t. If my grandfather got out of jail, I was afraid I wouldn’t have a future. PTSD would certainly rule my life.