by Tara Sivec
“You okay?” I ask, taking a step toward her and then pausing, wondering if something happened since the game ended. Maybe that piece of shit sent her another text.
I’ll kill him.
“Yep, great!” Wren quickly replies with what I now know is one of her fake smiles. The same ones she uses when someone asks her for a favor she’s too busy to handle but doesn’t have the heart to say no.
Wren’s eyes keep flickering away from me to look down, her whole body tense from her stiff shoulders down to her locked knees, and I start to wonder if maybe she just feels weird coming right up to me, making the first move. We haven’t been out in public together since our date, and maybe she just feels nervous even though there are only a handful of people left in the bleachers and they’re not even paying attention to us as they walk down the stairs to head off to the parking lot.
“Can I get a kiss for my awesome coaching abilities then?” I ask, holding my arms out and giving her a mischievous smile, letting her know she has absolutely nothing to feel weird about and I’ll take all the PDA she wants to give me.
Wren just giggles, but it sounds forced, her eyes still glancing away from mine and down every few seconds while I watch her wring her hands together in front of her. Everything about this feels wrong when it should be nothing but right, and something starts nagging at the back of my mind the longer Wren stands there looking uncomfortable and not closing the distance between us.
The memory of the last time we stood in this spot just like this when she admitted how she felt about me suddenly flashes through my mind… along with the reason for her pushing out of our hug. The reason for her tripping over her own feet so she could step back and away from where we were standing. The reason for her tears. The reason for her feeling like she was my second choice. And the reason her eyes kept glancing down that night just like they are now. It immediately hits me she’s not just looking down so she doesn’t have to meet my eyes because she feels weird or nervous. She’s looking at home plate. A mere six inches from where I’m standing.
It’s not the same home plate, but it doesn’t matter, does it? She still had to watch me kiss another fucking woman on national television there. When Palmer told me the name of the bar where Wren met Kevin, I vowed to never step foot in that place. Just the thought of my wonderful, sweet Wren being taken advantage of there was enough to make me want to vomit and rip the whole building apart with my bare hands. And here I am, just standing in the same place I kissed another woman, wanting Wren to kiss me, probably making her feel like she’s not special at all and I’ll just kiss anyone on home plate.
Fuck!
Quickly closing the distance between us, I realize there’s something bad I need to erase from her memories first, before I can worry about the ones Kevin left behind. Gently separating her hands she’s still wringing together, I lace the fingers of both of mine through hers, tugging her toward me as I start walking backward.
“What are you doing?” Wren asks, her shoulders no longer tense and an easy smile coming over her face the farther away we get from home plate, making my chest hurt that I was such a fucking idiot.
I don’t say anything; I just squeeze her hands and continue walking backward, stopping when my feet are on first base. Pulling Wren closer until the smell of vanilla is surrounding me, I take one of our joined hands and wrap them around Wren’s lower back, tugging her closer until she’s pressed against the front of me. Letting go of her other hand, I cup her cheek and tilt her face up.
“Kissing you on first base,” I finally answer in a whisper before I do just that.
I gently press my mouth to her full, sweet lips, taking my time to caress them, worship them, and kiss her the way she should have been kissed her entire life—adoringly, and like she’s the most exquisite treasure in the world. Because she is. And she needs to finally understand that.
Ending the kiss with a few soft pecks, I pull my head back and can’t help but smile when I look down to see Wren’s eyes still closed with a dreamy look on her face. She quickly blinks them open when I slide my hand off her cheek, unwind our arms from around her, and start walking backward again, pulling Wren along the baseline with her hand in mine until we get to second.
Repeating the same maneuver as soon as my feet hit the base, I wrap our joined hands behind her back and pull her up against me, giving her another slow, worshiping kiss on second base. And then I do it again on third, and the pitcher’s mound, and I jog her all the way to the outfield, and kiss her in left, center, and right, Wren breathless and laughing as I kiss her all over this fucking baseball field. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are shining with happiness, and all the sadness when she first stood a few feet away from me by home plate is long gone from her face by the time we make it back to the dugout.
Wren is wrapped tightly in my arms with hers dangling over my shoulders, while she stands up on her toes, and I give her one last soft, loving kiss before pulling back to look down at her smiling brightly up at me.
“I’m sorry for acting weird by home plate. I was being stupid,” she whispers, making a deep growl rumble from my chest.
“Enough.”
That one word and the force in which I stress it has Wren quickly clamping her mouth closed. Unwrapping my arms from around her, I bring my hands up between her arms still draped over my shoulders and hold her face in my hands.
“You are brilliant, and amazing, and never stupid. I did some bullshit once before on home plate, and you have every right to feel some kind of way about that, and if you want to kick me in the balls, I will allow it.”
My words hit their mark just like I hoped, and Wren’s shoulders shake with laughter, and that bright, beautiful smile is back on her face as she cocks her head to the side while she looks at me.
“You’re crazy.” She smiles up at me with a shake of her head. “I’m okay now. We can finish this with a kiss at home.”
Dropping my head down, I press my forehead against hers.
“Don’t you get it yet?” I ask quietly. “Whether it’s at first, or second, or in the outfield. No matter where I kiss you, Wren, I’m already home.”
When a small, sweet whimper comes out of her and she quickly lifts her chin and kisses me, I wrap my arms back around her again and hold her tightly, looking forward to all the rest of the bad I can replace with good. While silently cursing at my cock to go back to sleep, feeling Wren’s hot, sexy body all snuggled up against mine while her tongue is in my mouth.
Ending the kiss and breaking apart, I grab her hand again and start walking us toward the parking lot, grabbing my bag from the dugout as we go.
“Come on, let’s go meet Owen and everyone else up at Island Slice and celebrate.”
With my girl on my arm as we walk through the doors of the pizza place ten minutes later, spending the rest of the night sitting at a table eating, laughing, and just having a damn good time with Owen and a bunch of his friends from school who don’t play baseball, I know I’ll do everything I can to make sure that easy, relaxed smile never leaves Wren’s face.
Fucking into oblivion—bad.
Showing her she’s worth the time to take things slow—good.
CHAPTER 14
“Looks like he’s playing in extra innings.”
“I can’t believe you got a giant movie screen to set up on the beach just for the two of us!”
“Nothing but the best for my girl. Now get over here and cuddle me on this couch after I dragged it all the way out here in the sand. The movie is about to start.”
“Did you really drag it out here by yourself?”
“Of course not. I paid someone to do it. I was just trying to impress you with how big my muscles are, but this thing is heavy, and sand is bullshit.”
“Don’t worry; I’m impressed. How did you even get a popcorn machine to work out here? Holy hell, this is real movie theater butter.”
“Sour Patch Kids, Milk Duds, Junior Mints… what kind of sweet are you
in the mood for to go with that salty?”
“How about these ones right here attached to your face?”
“…”
“…”
“Fuuuck I can never get enough of your lips. Oh shit, not the ear. Don’t nibble the—Sweet Christ. Okay, ha-ha, would you look at that! The movie is starting, and you should sit right over there, and I’ll just sit way over here.”
“Field of Dreams? Why am I even surprised? Are you gonna say the words to this entire movie right along with it?”
“That would be annoying. Of course not. My father’s name was John Kinsella…”
“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?”
“You’re goddamn right I’m gonna cry. I changed my mind. Get back over here and cuddle me.”
“Owen, we need to have a talk.”
“Okay, Coach, what’s up? I know I skipped running sprints, but I was—”
“It’s not about baseball. It’s about your mom.”
“Oh my God! What happened? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine! Shit, I’m really awful at this. It’s nothing bad. It’s good! It’s really good. Well, I think it’s good, and I know your mom said she already had a talk with you, and she said you said it was good, but I really feel like we need to have a man-to-man talk and—”
“You and my mom are dating. I know. It’s cool.”
“Okay… but are you sure it’s cool? I’m gonna be spending a lot of time with her and be around a lot, and I will never disrespect you or your mother, but… you see, Owen, when a man and a woman really like each other, eventually—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. You’re starting to make this weird. The guys are staring.”
“I don’t want to make this weird.”
“Good.”
“Great. And just so you know, just because your mom and I are dating, it doesn’t mean I’m going to give you any special treatment on the team to give them anything else to stare at.”
“Got it.”
“What the hell do you mean you skipped your sprints, Bennett? Get your ass over there and run!”
“You’re doing it again. You’re being weird.”
“You know what, just accept the fact that this is gonna be weird for a while, and I’ll buy you a car.”
“Change it to a motorcycle and we have a deal.”
“Don’t push it. Go run your sprints.
“You are so bad at this.”
“I know!”
“Maybe we should just stop. Call it a night, you can go home, and we can try another time.”
“I am not a quitter, Wren! I’ll get it right. Just let me keep trying.”
“All of this trying is starting to get painful. Slow and gentle, Shepherd. Stop rushing it.”
“The more you tell me to slow down, the faster it just makes me want to go.”
“And look what happens. You try to cram it in there without any finesse and ruin everything. You are so out of practice.”
“Look, it’s been a while for me, Wren, okay? You need to just be patient and let me find my groove.”
“Here, let me show you. I’ll just place my hand on top of yours and… there we go. See? Just gently press it right in there. Now tap it lightly a few times. Yaaas, just like that. Mmm, that’s nice.”
“People are staring.”
“Let them stare. You finally made a cone without breaking the damn thing into a million pieces in your hand by slamming the ice cream down on top of it with the scoop.”
“There’s a line of customers waiting. I was trying to be quick and efficient. Remind me again why I thought helping you out up at the Dip and Twist tonight would be a good idea for a date?”
“Because you’re sweet and when you found out I was getting a shipment of ice cream tonight, you basically demanded to come help me. Which is probably a good thing. Bending over that chest freezer all night with my butt in the air because I can’t touch the ground is annoying. Shepherd? Are you okay? You look flushed all of a sudden and like you might pass out.”
“I’m fine. I’m great. I’m just perfect. Why do you ask? Who wants ice cream?”
“This is insane. Absolutely insane. You know that, right? You can’t just have someone land a helicopter wherever you want on Summersweet and pick us up.”
“Actually, I can. And I did. Now just hold on tight and enjoy the sunset view while we fly around the island. If the headphones are too tight, you can adjust them.”
“You have to stop spoiling me. This is crazy.”
“What’s crazy is that it took me so long to do something completely disgusting and obnoxious with my money. But it couldn’t be more perfect that I waited, because you deserve all of the disgusting and obnoxious things.”
“Um… thanks?”
“That sounded better in my head. Okay, get ready to look out your window in about ten seconds for your next surprise.”
“Shepherd! Seriously, the new pair of white Converse you had delivered to the cottage this morning, the masseuse you sent by to give me an hour massage when I got home from work, and the sunset helicopter ride are more than enough. You didn’t have to… draw a giant penis in the sand that I can see from up here?”
“What? No! It’s not a…. Son of a bitch, it is. I knew I shouldn’t have left Bodhi in charge of writing the message in the sand for me.”
“I mean, it’s very anatomically correct. So much detail. Wow, he even used rocks in a spray coming out of the tip. That’s pretty artistic. Can you have the pilot circle back around? What was he supposed to write?”
“He was supposed to write ‘You’re my home.’”
“That’s very sweet and romantic.”
“It certainly was.”
“Knowing Bodhi, he took that literally. You know, the whole baseball analogy of sliding into home. Get it? Giant penis… sliding into—”
“Yep, got it, great! What time did you say we needed to pick Owen up from your mom’s house?”
“I didn’t. We don’t have to—”
“Oh but we do! We’ve been neglecting him. I don’t want him to hate me for taking his mom away from him all the time.”
“I mean, when you put it that way….”
“Mom, Dad, you remember Wren—”
“Young lady, you get right over here and let me give you a hug for all the bullshit my son has put you through. Do you like meatloaf and chicken pot pie? I brought you some for your freezer.”
“Any chance those are my meatloaf and chicken pot pie, Mom?”
“Shut up, you big pussy.”
“Mom! Come on, Dad, help me out here.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do. I still think the poor girl needs to have her head examined for slumming it with you. No offense, Wren.”
“Quite all right, sir.”
“None of that sir bullshit. Call me Simon or call me Dad.”
“Well then, dinner will be ready in just a few minutes, Simon. Probably right when Owen gets home from his friend’s house. If you guys want to make yourselves comfortable, I’ll—”
“Sweetheart, sit down and relax. I’ll get dinner.”
“Shepherd, I can—”
“Sit. Relax. I got this.”
“There we go. There’s the man we raised to not be a pussy. Sorry for the delay, Wren. We’ll just be out on the deck, enjoying the view. Call us when dinner is ready!”
“I’m glad you’re finding so much humor in how highly my parents think of me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you later after they’re gone and Owen is asleep.”
“Didn’t I tell you they’re spending the night? Must have slipped my mind! Don’t worry; they practically begged to sleep on your big, comfy sectional. Literally, it’s all my mom would talk about and how they didn’t want to cut their visit short and have to rush and get the last ferry off the island, and how they’re just dying to stay up all night and have a slumber party with Owen and get to know him, and you know what? You jus
t sit down at the table, and I’ll go out on the deck really quick and remind them about that just in case they forgot, and then I’ll be back in a jiffy to get dinner out of the oven!”
“I didn’t lie down on the couch and put my feet on your lap so you’d rub them.”
“I made you walk all over the island. You deserve a foot rub.”
“You seemed very adamant that we go everywhere today. We had breakfast at The Barge, we got your taffy fix at Chew on This, we played a few games at the arcade, and we had lunch at SIG and said hi to Tess, Birdie, and Murphy. Then we picked up groceries, grabbed pizza and ate it at the picnic tables of the Dip and Twist, rode bikes through the park, and we had dinner on the deck of Dockside Eddy’s. Any reason why we went on a Summersweet Island tour today?”
“First things first. What’s the one thing we did at each of those places?”
“Besides make out like a couple of teenagers?”
“Nope. Exactly that. We went on a tour of Summersweet Island today, because I wanted to make out with Wren Bennett in all the places I fantasized about making out with her when I really was a teenager.”
“That’s a lot for a girl to live up to. I hope it met all your expectations.”
“Sweetheart, you exceed my expectations just by being in the same room with me. You were worth the wait. You will always be worth it.”
“You’re really good at this.”
“Being all mushy and disgusting, or the foot rub?”
“Both. I’m kind of getting used to all this spoiling.”
“Good. Because I never plan on stopping.”
“If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I just need to reach around you and grab that empty plate. Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?”
“You know I’m in charge of the spaghetti dinner, and I’m the one who’s supposed to be doing all this, right? But you do look quite fabulous in that frilly pink apron.”
“When was the last time you actually got to sit down with your family and friends at one of these things and just eat, enter to win raffle baskets, and have fun?”