“Thanks,” I said. “I’m headed to diamond number five for the Cardinals game. I think I can make it.”
“Oh, really?” he asked. “We’re going to the same place. John Cornet. I’m Richie’s dad. That ice chest looks heavy, let me carry it.”
He reached for the cooler, and I handed it over to him. It really was getting heavy.
“I’m Miri.” I shoved my hands into my pockets as we walked. “Nice to meet you.”
He grinned at me. I should have melted or been dazzled. He’d obviously had a lot of dental work and had a lovely smile. All I could think about was how I’d wanted it to be Jean Luc next to me.
We walked to the baseball diamond, and John put down the ice chest. “This is where the snacks normally go,” he explained. “If you’d like, you can come sit with me on the bleachers.”
John smiled again. I really didn’t have much dating experience, but I was pretty sure this was flirtation. I’d like to be his friend, but I just wasn’t ready to give up on Jean Luc yet.
Before I could answer, I heard the voice I’d been waiting for.
“Miri, glad you made it,” Jean Luc said.
He wasn’t wearing his vest. Instead he was in a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt with the team logo. The shirt was a little too tight, and I tried not to look—especially since I could remember what was underneath. He’d let his hair grow out too. It wasn’t nearly as long as when we’d first met, but it was definitely shaggy. He had a couple days of beard growth.
“Hi.” I wasn’t sure what to do. Did I hug him? Or shake hands? I left my hands in my pockets until he made a move. “Nice to see you again.”
“Miri!” Christophe yelled as he came running toward me. “I knew you’d come! Dad wasn’t sure, but I knew you’d be here!” He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a big hug. Now I knew what to do. I gave him a squeeze. He was a great kid, and I was glad to see him.
“Come on, kiddo.” Jean Luc ended the hug early. “You gotta get back out there. The game is starting in a couple minutes.”
“Okay.” Christophe let me go. “You have to watch me, okay, Miri? I’m playing shortstop. That’s the one between second and third base. Okay? You’re gonna watch, right?”
I grinned. “I’m going to be here the whole game.”
I found a shady spot on the bleachers and watched. Jean Luc had some sort of coaching position, and he threw the ball to the kids who weren’t rotated in yet. I watched as his shoulders rolled under the red T-shirt. He looked so different now. Relaxed, having fun with the kids, just another dad at the baseball game. You would never imagine that he wore a leather vest from a motorcycle club and sometimes strapped on weapons. I shivered just thinking about it.
“Hi.” John from earlier slid onto the bleacher next to me. “I didn’t realize you were Christophe’s mom.”
“Oh, I’m not,” I said quickly. “I’m just a friend of the family.”
He smiled his dazzlingly white smile at me again.
“So, um, what do you do?” I asked. That was always a safe question.
“I’m pretty boring.” He laughed. “I’m a CPA. Small business, mostly. I have my own practice.”
“Having your own business like that is difficult.” I said. It felt good to talk to a normal person about normal things.
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “It’s great being your own boss, but it’s also the hardest I’ve ever worked in my life—besides being a dad, of course. What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer. Family practice. I just opened up my own practice.” I took a deep breath. “Wow, it felt good to say that. It was really scary to go out on my own, but I’m getting clients, and it’s starting to work now.”
“That’s great!” John patted my shoulder. “I remember that feeling too. Being independent is definitely a risk.”
“Yes, a risk,” I agreed. John seemed to understand. I should be interested in him, but I was still looking for reddish brown hair and an accent.
Jean Luc came running up. “Hey, Christophe is the batter after next.” He smiled, but then looked at John and frowned a little.
“Thanks!” I looked to make sure I could see the plate. “Tell him I’ll be watching.”
“So, are you and Jean Luc dating?” John asked as soon as Jean Luc was out of earshot.
I shot him a glance, surprised by the frank question. “No.” I wanted to date him, but right now I wasn’t sure what we were doing. Of course, I wasn’t about to admit that to John. “We’re just friends.”
Christophe came up to bat and hit a homer on his second try. The crowd went wild. So did Christophe—he made a game of running the bases and waving to everyone. We all waved back.
“Oh, here comes Richie,” John said after the excitement of Christophe’s hit settled down. A brown-haired boy with a gap-toothed grin took his turn at the plate.
Richie hit a single, and we all clapped and cheered. “He’s not as good as Christophe,” John said a little sheepishly. “We practice a lot, but I just don’t think sports are his thing.”
“That’s okay.” I grinned. “Sports weren’t my thing growing up either.”
John and I talked through the whole game. He was divorced. He had custody of Richie every other weekend and one week a month. The standard arrangement. At the end of the game, he helped me distribute the cookies and drinks.
“I enjoyed talking to you,” John said when the line of little boys were all eating cookies and drinking juice boxes. “Here’s my card. In case you need a CPA for your practice.” He shrugged. “Or if you just want to talk sometime.”
“Oh...” He was asking me out. Between Pete and Jean Luc, it had been a really long time since this had happened. “Thanks. I’m just not sure I’m dating right now.”
“Yeah, I understand.” John shot a quick look to Jean Luc, who was helping the kids pack up in the dugout. “But if you ever change your mind, call me.”
I nodded. He was a nice guy. “Thanks,” I said, sliding his card into my back pocket.
We both turned to see Jean Luc walking toward us, carrying some bags of sports equipment. “Hey, Miri,” he said, putting his hand on the small of my back—just a tiny little possessive gesture. He turned to John. “Richie did great today. That single allowed Alex to get a run.”
“Yeah, we’ve been hitting the batting cages,” John said, glancing at me. He hadn’t missed Jean Luc staking his territory. “I’m taking Richie and some of the other kids out for pizza. Why don’t you guys come with us?”
“That would be great,” I said. I wanted to spend as much time with Jean Luc as I could, and dinner sounded great—even if we were surrounded by a bunch of nine-year-olds.
* * *
I played with my straw and tried not to look at the time. Jean Luc was late, and I was sitting at a pizza place full of Little Leaguers all by myself.
But then there was a cold gust of wind from behind me, and I twisted in my seat. Jean Luc was standing behind me in a leather jacket—no vest—jeans, and his Cardinals T-shirt.
He grinned at me. This was what I had been waiting for all night.
“You made it.” I stood up and grabbed my drink. “I was starting to worry.”
“I tripped and skinned my knee,” Christophe said proudly. “Wanna see?”
“No thanks.” I laughed. “But why don’t we go find a seat and order some pizza?”
Christophe hung out with us until we ordered, but then his attention span for adult conversation ended, and he ran off to play video games with his teammates.
“Do you like coaching?” I asked, picking at the breadsticks in the middle of the table. “You seem pretty good at it.”
“Thanks.” Jean Luc blushed. The big biker blushed. “I used to play in high school. I’m not the head coach or anything; I just pl
ay catch and keep them occupied while they’re waiting to bat.”
The pizza came, and Christophe appeared out of nowhere. “Dad, can I go sleep over at Adam’s tonight?” he asked between chomps. “It’s Friday, and I don’t have school tomorrow.”
“Have you asked his parents?” Jean Luc asked.
I listened as father and son negotiated the sleepover. Apparently Christophe had some homework to finish, and his teacher had given him an extension until Monday. It was all so very normal—so far from that night where I’d seen the guns spread out on Jean Luc’s bed. It was so different from when I’d seen the guys dressed in their leather and weapons ride out to find Davide.
I just had to reconcile both of those men and remember that Jean Luc was one person and that we needed to create our own future together—including a kid and a motorcycle club. The Jean Luc from tonight, the patient coach, the caring father, my date, he would make it worth it. I was already in love with the sexy artist and dangerous biker from before; adding the caring father into the mix was devastating.
The muscles in Jean Luc’s shoulders bunched and stretched as he boxed up the leftover pizza. I was in some serious trouble.
“You ready to head out?” he asked. “Adam’s mom is gonna take Christophe home, so I can walk you to your car.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.” I tried to smile, but I was disappointed. The night was already over.
Jean Luc held the door open for me as we left, and the cold air hit me. The warm fall day had turned into a chilly evening. Wordlessly, Jean Luc draped his leather jacket around my shoulders as we walked through the parking lot. The jacket was a little bit of black heaven. It smelled earthy with just a little bit of aftershave.
We stopped at my car, and I turned to face him. “I don’t want this night to end,” I whispered, not daring to look up. Reaching out, I played with the hem of his T-shirt. “I wish we had a chance to talk more.”
“Come back to my place,” he said, his breath hot on my cheek. “Just for a drink. I won’t pressure you for anything else. I just want to spend time with you. Hear about your business, maybe hear you laugh.”
“Yes,” I said. There was no thinking, no consideration. I wanted to go home with him, so why fight it? “I’ll follow you.”
It was a twenty-minute drive to his place. As I followed his red taillights, I had plenty of time to think. I didn’t come up with any conclusions other than I wanted to see where this led. I wanted to give things a try.
After we parked in Jean Luc’s gravel driveway, he opened my door and walked me to his door. His living room was less tidy than my last visit, and I laughed.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to clean. I wasn’t expecting company,” he said, scooping up a pair of Christophe’s shoes and some newspapers from the couch. “Have a seat. Can I get you a beer? Or something stronger?”
There was so much loaded in that question. Was I driving later? Would I be staying the night? I had no idea how to answer that, so I played it safe.
“No alcohol for me.” I draped his leather jacket over the arm of the couch and sat down. “It’s been a long day, and it might put me to sleep.” There. That was a safe answer.
Jean Luc grabbed a beer for himself, and we talked for hours. First, we started with my business, then we moved on to Christophe and fatherhood.
“Oh, wow.” I looked at the clock. “It’s nearly midnight. I can’t believe you’re not tired.”
He stood up and then helped me to my feet. “What can I say?” he whispered. “I didn’t want to miss a single minute with you.”
I shivered. That was the first romantic thing he had said since we arrived. I had been waiting.
I decided I was through with delays. I slipped my hand around his neck and kissed him.
He was just as hungry as I was. He devoured my lips, his mouth teasing and playing. His tongue claimed the inside of my mouth, and I melted against him. This was what I had been waiting for.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let my nipples rub against his chest and moaned. It felt so good that I rubbed again. One of his hands reached down to squeeze my butt, and he stopped.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as he shoved his hand in my back pocket and pulled something out. My heart sank as I realized what it was. John’s business card.
He handed it back to me and stepped away. “Sorry, I got carried away.” Running his fingers through his hair, he frowned. “Okay, I really don’t know how to do this, so I’m just gonna say it. I want to see you—a lot. If you need space, that’s okay. Date whoever you want, but just give me a chance too. That’s all I ask. Things went bad at the clubhouse, but I want you to know that things aren’t always like that. I want a chance to show you how good it can be between us.”
“I don’t want to date anyone else.” I held my hands out to him. “I just want you.”
Threading his fingers through mine, he bent down and kissed me again. He was what I wanted. This was what I wanted. This was what I was waiting for. It was the same reason I gave him my virginity, and it was the same reason I wanted him now. I wanted him more than anyone else I’d ever met, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.
His lips pressed hard against mine, and his tongue searched the inside of my mouth. I put my palms on his chest. I didn’t know if I should push him away and ask him what he meant, or just enjoy the kiss.
“Come to the bedroom with me,” he rasped, grabbing my hips and holding me against his body.
“Yes.” I stepped back and took his hand, leading him back to his own bedroom. I left the lights off and fumbled for a minute in the dark before I figured out my bearings and put my arms around his shoulders. He ducked down to start kissing my neck. I unzipped his fly.
He held my hands still. “Tell me you’re not gonna call John,” he growled against my lips. “I want to hear it again.”
“It’s only you,” I panted as he kissed behind my ear. “I only want you.”
In a flash, he unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them and my panties to the floor. Cupping my butt, he lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his middle and carried me the two steps to the bed. As he placed me on the comforter, his dick bumped against my bare body, and I groaned.
“I don’t have a condom.” He stopped. “Fuck, I didn’t think about this at all.”
“It’s okay. This is us, it’s okay,” I repeated, pulling his head down so that he kissed me again.
That was all he needed. When he pressed into me, I felt the pinch and then stretch. Once he was fully inside, we both stopped and panted.
“Say it again,” he whispered into my ear. “Say my name.”
I squeezed my eyes shut to avoid answering. Which name did he want to hear? I didn’t want to call him Skeeter.
“Jean—” I said as he pulled out. “—Luc,” I said as he pounded in. Over and over again. I said his name, and we found our rhythm. It didn’t take long before the tingles of an orgasm started to wash over me.
“Jean Luc!” I cried out as he stroked into me. “You’re Jean Luc.”
Soon, we lost our beat, and I cried out as pleasure pulsed through me.
“Miri, I can’t stop,” was all he was able to say as heat flooded my body, and I realized that it was him, his come. This was his first time coming inside of me. It was different, silky and wet. I squeezed him and he shuddered.
He rolled off me and pulled me close. We lay in each other’s arms until our bodies began to cool.
“About your name,” I said, snuggling against his shoulder. “I like Jean Luc, but if you’d rather, I can call you Skeeter.”
Jean Luc got up. The cold air hit my body, and I shivered. He ran his fingers through his hair and walked across the room. He had two little dimples right above his butt that I never had the chance to notice before.
“
You are one person,” I said, getting up. I pulled on my shorts. This was not what I imagined. “You can go by whatever name you want, but you are one person. Do you still feel like we are from two different worlds?”
“Of course we’re from two different worlds, but I can keep it separate,” Jean Luc said, more to himself than to me. He paced the room. “I can keep it separate; you don’t have to go to the clubhouse or anything. I can just be Jean Luc when you’re around.”
“What?” I asked, confused. “I don’t want to be part of just the Jean Luc portion of your life. I wanted to build a life together, create our own world.”
The words, which sounded so promising in Krista’s kitchen, fell flat between us. He leaned against the dresser and I put on my shoes. We were both silent.
“If we create one world,” Jean Luc said, “how do I know you’ll stay? You saw a couple of guns and freaked out last time.”
I crossed the bedroom and took his hand. He was right.
“I learned something about my childhood—and life,” I said. “I can’t promise not to freak out, but I can promise to talk about things and try. Isn’t that what you said earlier, you wanted to try?”
“Yeah.” He pulled me close. “I like your idea. Let’s build our own world and give things a try.”
He ducked his head down and gave me a light kiss. As much as I wanted to revel in the feel of his arms around me, things were a little raw between us.
“I’m going to go,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder. “Call me, okay?”
“I will.” He kissed my hair. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Chapter Forty
Miri
It was 5:00 a.m., and I never went to sleep. After I tossed and turned for a bit, I decided to put on some clothes and walk down to the neighborhood coffee shop. Since starting my practice, I had become a regular customer at Mr. Valecci’s shop, and his espresso machine was always brewing early.
After grabbing a cappuccino and homemade biscotti, I settled into a corner table. I had a divorce case with a new deposition to review.
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