by Kaylea Cross
Rayne slung an arm around her shoulders, warm and solid. “Sorry about that.” His fingertips grazed the lace strap of her nightgown, making her already jangled nerves shriek. She wasn’t wearing anything under the jersey gown. She wrapped her arms around herself to shield her body and swallowed.
“Jake started growling,” he continued, “and then I heard something outside, so I wanted to check it out just to be sure.”
She lifted her head from the balustrade. “I heard it too. I was coming to find you.” She hadn’t bothered to open her eyes yet, but at least her voice was steady. “I’m going to kill that goddamn raccoon.”
A chuckle vibrated through his chest. “If he’s smart, he’s halfway up a tall tree by now. I think Jake’s got the situation under control anyway.”
“He hates raccoons. Has since he was a puppy.” She leaned against him, letting his body heat chase away the lingering chill. He felt so good.
“You gonna go back to bed now?” His hand stroked her hair from the crown of her head to her shoulder blades.
She pulled back and gawked at him. “You think I can sleep after that?”
His eyes softened. “Still worried?”
“Uh, yeah. Even you thought it might have been you-know-who out there.”
“Yeah, I did,” he conceded. “But it wasn’t.”
This time. The words hung between them as clearly as if he’d spoken them out loud.
She dropped her head into her hands. “God, this sucks.” The clock chimed midnight. Monday, May nineteenth. “Hell of a way to start my birthday,” she murmured.
His hand stopped its soothing motion in the middle of her back. “It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Gee, it must have slipped my mind somewhere between finding out about the hit-and-run and Nate telling me what to do if the stalker pulls a knife on me.”
He made a strangled sound, as if he was struggling not to laugh—laugh, for crying out loud. “Happy birthday, darlin’.”
“Thanks.” Twenty-five years old, and she was leaning against the man she fantasized about but didn’t have the guts to go after. She shivered, more aware than ever that she was snuggled up to Rayne in her sheer nightgown and clammy with perspiration. She tightened her arms over her chest. “I think I’ll go take a bath.”
He hesitated before releasing her. “Want me to wait up? I could tuck you in afterward.” His boyish grin melted her tripping heart.
She blinked up at him. It was getting harder and harder to tell whether he was teasing. She assumed he was, but that glint in his amber-and-green eyes had her thinking otherwise. “I’m sorry, I’m too tired and rattled to joke with you right now.”
“Who’s joking?”
Wasn’t he? She stared into those eyes, mesmerized by the unexpected hunger swirling in their hazel depths. Unable to pull her gaze away, she watched his gaze dip down to her mouth, mere inches away, and he bent his head a fraction. He’s going to kiss me. Mouth dry, pulse hammering, she scrambled to her feet before her brain could figure out what the hell was going on. “I’ll just go, um, take that bath now.”
His expression unreadable, he nodded.
“Thanks for checking things out.” Her face was burning. She was horrified by her actions, her sheer awkwardness around Rayne.
“No problem. Sleep tight, darlin’.”
Coward, her conscience sneered as she fled up the stairs to the bathroom.
****
Despite her anxiety about Seth, she couldn’t stay away from Softball City. The place, the game, were like a drug and she needed a fix. In broad daylight she felt safe around her teammates, so when one of them had called and offered her a ride to watch the practice, she’d agreed. She might not be able to practice with the team yet, but she could help out in other ways. Rayne had gone to work so she was alone in the house anyway. Besides, it was her birthday. Going to the park would be her present to herself.
When she showed up Matt shook his head at her in exasperation, but since Seth hadn’t been seen around the ballpark since he’d been thrown out for freaking over her injury, Matt let her stay. She did some charting through the practice while her teammates sweated it out, hating the frustration eating away at her.
Coming here was a risk now that Seth knew where she lived, but as she and Dani had driven over here she’d made sure they weren’t being followed. Rayne wouldn’t be happy, but she couldn’t stand having her life stripped away because of some whacko. Besides, she needed a distraction after last night’s almost-kiss. She’d been awake a long time afterward, kicking herself for bolting like that. What if she’d missed her only shot with him? When she’d finally fallen asleep she’d dreamed about him pressing her down into the sheets with that strong, lean body—
“Chris.” She came out of her reverie to find Matt holding out a pen and clipboard. “Mind charting a few more hitters for me?”
Grateful to have something useful to do, she spent the rest of the practice filling out paperwork and joking with her teammates. They all wanted to know who the hunk was who had carried her from the park after she’d been injured. Even here keeping her mind off Rayne wasn’t an option.
She was waiting for Dani after practice so they could leave when her cell phone rang. She checked the number and didn’t recognize it, but the phone was her work line so she assumed it was a client. “Green With Envy Landscaping, Christa speaking.”
Silence.
“Hello?” she asked, plugging her other ear with a finger. Nothing. She lowered the phone to check the signal strength: full.
She was about to disconnect when a voice spoke. “Happy birthday. How come you’re not out there with the rest of the team? Still got a headache?”
She stiffened at the male voice.
“That color pink looks good on you.”
The breath left her lungs in a rush, her eyes swinging up from her pink T-shirt to scan the park. Him. He was watching her right now.
All right. No more. Her thumb slid down to cut the call.
“I assume you got my flowers.”
Breathing fast, she held off disconnecting, half hoping he would give her a clue to help the police catch him. “Leave me alone and don’t call me again.”
A raspy chuckle filled the line.
Her throat tightened. “Don’t call me again,” she repeated, voice hoarse, and hung up. At least she’d sent the message that she would not be cowed by him, but a shiver ripped through her as she stared toward the outfield fence. Was he there, just out of sight, watching her right now? Her skin crawled, instincts shrieking at her to flee, and she got up to tell Matt about the call. He promised to alert the staff to any sightings of Seth and stood over her while she called the police.
Safely home afterward, she opened the back door into the kitchen, flipping on the overhead light. A ripple of apprehension slid down her spine. No Jake. He always met her at the back door, without fail.
“Jake?” She glanced around the great room, surprised he wasn’t already underfoot clamoring for attention. She stuck her head out the doorway, calling his name again. Nothing. No answering distant bark, no jingle of his collar. Only silence. “Jake?”
A buzz of alarm sounded in her brain. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Had Seth done something to her dog? Dread curled in the pit of her stomach, her heart tripping.
She called his name again, louder this time, and headed for the staircase, panic swelling. A whisper of movement came from behind her, and she stopped. Frozen like prey scenting danger, she listened.
A creak, somewhere to the left, like someone stepping on a loose floorboard. Fear gripped her chest. Stupid! She never should have come inside alone, should have asked Dani to accompany her. Heart pounding, she whirled around to head back into the kitchen, ready to make a run for the back door.
“Surprise!”
Christa jumped, her heart almost stopping altogether. A dozen or more of her friends emerged from their hiding spots. Teryl rushed towar
d her with a bottle of her favorite wine, Jake in tow.
“Happy birthday, sweetie!” She beamed.
Christa stood there with a hand pressed over her thudding heart and smacked Teryl on the shoulder.
“Ow!” she yelped. “What’s that for?”
“You scared me to death, you idiot,” Christa laughed, willing her heart back down her esophagus. She bent to gather Jake into a hug and let out a sigh, weakened by fading adrenaline. Rayne materialized out of the crowd next, making her dizzy with relief, and she threw her arms around him.
“Whoa,” he chuckled as he returned the embrace and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his warm lips on her skin making her tingle all over. Even though she knew she had no business tingling where Rayne was concerned. “Miss me that much already? Happy birthday, darlin’.”
She clung to his shoulder, reveling in the sense of security he exuded.
“Hey. Something spook you?” He frowned down at her and jerked a thumb at Teryl. “Blame your pal. It was her idea to hide and jump out at you.”
“It’s not that,” she whispered into his ear. “Something happened at the ballpark. He...he called me.” He pulled his head back, anger burning in his eyes. “Did you call it in right away?”
“‘Course I did. They’re checking my cell phone records.”
He relaxed a bit. “Good. I’ll call the detachment myself, make sure they’re on it.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, go enjoy the party.” He gave her a push toward the kitchen.
Everyone was at the island helping themselves to platters of food. Teryl sauntered over.
“Here,” she said, thrusting a glass of wine at her. “I’m already three glasses ahead of you, so hurry and catch up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Amid cheers she drained the glass.
Drew came over and hugged her. “You don’t look a day over twenty-five,” he told her, grinning.
“That’s good to know. And thanks for the party.”
Teryl waved a hand. “It was no trouble and besides, you deserve a little fun after recent events, right?”
“You’re not kidding. But you guys nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Drew gave her a boyish smile. “Teryl got a little carried away. She’s drunk, by the way.” Christa laughed, knowing how much Drew loved it when Teryl got tipsy.
Their conversation was interrupted by a group of her teammates arriving. She waved them over to the makeshift bar at the kitchen counter where Rayne was playing bartender. Once they all had something to drink, she went around visiting with everyone, making introductions and small talk.
“C’mon, girl,” Teryl chided. “No hostess routine tonight. This is your birf—birthday, I mean,” she corrected, swaying a bit on her four-inch heels.
“You sure you’ve only had three glasses?” Christa teased.
Teryl gave her a tipsy smile and tossed her blond hair over one shoulder. “I never said I’d only had three. I said three more than you.” She whipped around. “Where’s my studly hubby gone?” She wobbled on those precarious heels, reaching out to grab onto Christa’s shoulder to steady herself. “Hey, Drew! Get over here.”
Christa smothered a laugh into her wineglass as Drew started toward them with a wide smile on his face. Clearly he knew he was getting lucky later. Provided Teryl wasn’t passed out by then.
“Isn’t he the sexiest thing you’ve ever laid eyes on?” Teryl gushed.
“Totally,” she agreed, but she was staring at Rayne. As though he sensed it, he looked up and met her gaze, held it. Gave a slow wink that sent her pulse skittering. Damn it, she should’ve kissed him.
Drew peeled his wife off Christa, hugging her into his side to keep her steady. “You’re so cute when you’re smashed.”
“I know,” she sighed, melting against him. “And I’m also really horny—”
Oh, God. Christa winced and with one look into Drew’s laughing eyes, made her escape. She went to stand with Rayne and introduced him to her teammates, their eyes bright with curiosity. The moment he went back to serving drinks they pounced on her, pressing for details.
“Sadly,” she informed them, “there are no details.” But for the rest of the evening they shot her sidelong looks and waggled their eyebrows.
“So, tell me,” Rayne interrupted near the end of the party, leaning on his elbows to survey the room as she got a refill. “Any of your friends here, you know...’bat for both teams’?”
She gave him a disbelieving glare. “You didn’t seriously just ask me that.”
“Well, isn’t it true that—”
“That we stay up all night on road trips massaging each other with hot oil and have pillow fights in our underwear? Yeah, of course it’s true.”
He laughed out loud, then rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, man, you sure know how to hit a guy where it hurts. I’ll be up all night thinking about that now.”
“Poor baby.” She noticed Teryl making her way toward them, her lipstick smeared from doing who knew what with Drew, a crooked smile on her face. “Teryl, tell Rayne about the time in California when—”
“When we almost got thrown out of the hotel for skinny dipping?” Her eyes brightened with excitement. Rayne groaned, and Teryl gave a wicked smile. “The whole team was buck naked out in the pool when this elderly couple came out to have a hot tub. The old guy stands there gawking at us as if his fondest wish had come true. He turns to his horrified wife and says, ‘Estelle, I can finally die a happy man now.’”
“You were out there too?” he asked Christa, as if he couldn’t imagine her being that brave.
Teryl winked at him. “Yeah, it’s her one claim to fame—her one and only bad girl deed, and she only did it because we were all giving her such a hard time.”
“Well, I did it, didn’t I?” Christa demanded.
“You sure did, sweetie, and I’m glad. God knows she needs to loosen up from time to time,” she said to Rayne. “That’s my birthday wish for you, Chris. More loosening up, if you know what I mean.”
“Thanks.” She shot Teryl a quelling look, didn’t dare glance at Rayne.
Teryl leaned closer to him, crooking a finger until he bent his head so she could stage-whisper in his ear. “Did you know she hasn’t gotten laid in almost five years?” She made it sound like a century. “We have Cameron the Shithead to thank for that.”
“Teryl!” Christa wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
“It’s all right, sweetie, it’s just between us friends.” She patted her shoulder. “And now I’ve got to take Drew home and have some wild monkey sex. If you’ll excuse me,” she drawled. She moved two steps away, then turned back to Rayne and give him an upheld hand, fingers spread wide. Five years, she mouthed, eyes widening, then shrugged as if to say she’d never understand how someone could be celibate that long, and went on the prowl after her husband.
“Oh my God.” Christa pressed a hand to her mouth. “Someone please kill me now.”
Rayne laughed and pulled her hand from her lips, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t sweat it, darlin’, that was just her wine talking.”
She peeked up at him, face burning. The sexiest, most mouthwatering bachelor she’d ever come across now knew she’d been living like a nun. “So what are you saying, that she should live after humiliating me like that?”
He grinned, took her wineglass and refilled it. “Has it really been that long?”
She glared up at him, knowing he was teasing, but she still felt like a pathetic loser. She took a fortifying gulp of wine, careful not to snap the stem of the wineglass with her clenched fingers. “I’ve had lots of dates.” Six or seven in the past year actually, but he was only on a need-to-know basis. “It’s just that I’ve been busy,” she added, aware of how ridiculous it sounded. “I haven’t had time for...that kind of...thing.” She swallowed the rest of the wine in one shot, prayed it would stay in her churning stomach. Maybe if she got drunk enough, none of this would be embarrassing an
ymore. Maybe it would even be funny.
“So who’s Cameron the Shithead?”
She huffed out a breath, sent another withering glare after Teryl. Great. Let’s air out all her dirty laundry in front of the man she fantasized about. “My ex,” she explained, careful to keep emotion out of her voice. Cameron was so far in the past he didn’t deserve any emotion from her. After living with him for two years, she’d discovered that while she’d been daydreaming about their wedding, he’d been dreaming about how many women he could nail while she was away on road trips. “He cheated on me, so I dumped him.” There. It sounded so neat and tidy that way, revealing none of the crushing pain she’d felt, the gaping wound he’d left where her naïve heart had once been.
“So you broke up with him and there’s been no one since?”
If her face got any hotter she might spontaneously combust. “No one important.”
The crux of the problem? She wanted someone to settle down with and have a family with someday, but she was way too scared of being burned again. The classic fear of abandonment. According to her counselor her need for a stable, committed relationship reflected her desire to heal that pain, blah, blah. Understanding its source was an important step, but it didn’t make it any easier to risk opening herself again to that kind of emotional uncertainty.
Rayne came around the counter and set an arm across her shoulders. “I can’t understand it, but c’mon. Let’s go start on your presents.”
“Yes, presents,” she agreed, and let him lead her to the gift table. Everyone gathered to watch as she unwrapped a silver photo frame from Rayne and a yellow raincoat and hat for Jake from her adorable elderly Irish neighbor, Patrick. They all laughed when the dog paraded in his new outfit, ever the showoff.
Dani snapped photos all the while, stopping in front of her and Rayne. Christa relished the warm, hard muscles of his forearm across her shoulder as he pulled her into him, her frantic heartbeat reminding her of their almost-kiss on the staircase. She soaked up his easy affection like a thirsty plant.
He gave her a squeeze and released her to open the rest of her gifts. Teryl, bless her thoughtful heart, had given her what appeared to be a lifetime supply of condoms and a card that read “Got you covered, girlfriend!”