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Making a Comeback

Page 14

by Kristina Mathews


  “You might sing a different tune once you find out I hog the covers.” She nuzzled against him, content to lie in his strong embrace.

  “Does that mean you’re going to spend the night?” he murmured. “Or do you have to get back to the girls?”

  “I have overnight babysitters.” She lifted her head. “That is, unless you want me to leave.”

  “Stay, Annabelle. Please stay.”

  * * * *

  The sun was barely peeking through the window when Cooper awoke to the movement of Annabelle getting out of bed. She wrapped the skirt around her waist and pulled her sweater over her head.

  “I should get back before the twins wake up.” She offered an apologetic smile. “It’s a school day.”

  “Yeah.” Trying to remember the last time he’d slept so well, he rubbed his hands over his face. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “You can count on it.” She bent down to place a kiss on the top of his head.

  “Annabelle.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Really.”

  “No, I mean, thank you for asking the questions you asked last night.” He held her, wishing the sun wasn’t quite up yet. “I needed to talk about it. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid.”

  “I thought maybe you already had, and I’d forgotten.” She tried to make light of the whole thing, bless her heart.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “Of course not.” She shrugged. “But I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth. Look, I’m not perfect.”

  She reached up and touched the side of her face. Maybe it was a subconscious thing, or maybe she was making a point.

  “You’re an amazing woman.” He brushed the hair off her cheek.

  She pulled away. “I really do have to go. But I left you a little something to remember me by.”

  “Besides the memory of an incredible night?”

  “Call it a souvenir.” She pulled the nightstand drawer open to reveal a flash of red.

  “The swimsuit?” Damn if his dick didn’t grow rock hard in an instant.

  She smiled and backed out of the doorway.

  He flopped back on the bed.

  He’d spent the night with Annabelle Jones. She was amazing. Incredible. Sexier than he’d imagined in his wildest fantasies.

  And she’d left him with her swimsuit. The one she’d worn on the cover of the magazine that had first caught his eye back when he was a rookie fighting for a roster spot.

  She’d left him with the will to fight his way back onto a major league team.

  * * * *

  Annabelle tiptoed through the back door. She’d hoped no one was up yet, but she bumped into Marco in her kitchen.

  “I hope you don’t mind me starting the coffee.” He filled the pot and poured it into the coffeemaker. “You did say to make ourselves at home.”

  “No. That’s fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a little self-conscious about wearing nothing at all under her sweater. “I hope everything went okay last night.”

  “Yeah. Your kids are really sweet.”

  “They are.” She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so blessed to have them.”

  “So, everything went okay for you?” He avoided her gaze and started opening cupboard doors, apparently looking for the coffee mugs.

  “Yes. Yes it did. Thank you for helping me with that.” Her cheeks flamed. “I mean, by watching the girls and…”

  “I hope everything works out for you. Really, Annabelle, you deserve someone who can make you happy.”

  “Thank you.” She reached for one of the mugs he set on the counter. “I have a pretty good feeling about us.”

  “Good. I’m happy for you.” He stared at the coffee dripping into the pot. “For both of you.”

  “So tell me, what will it be like when he goes back?” She grabbed some cinnamon and the half and half. “Will there be a lot of hard feelings from his teammates? Suspicion?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on what kind of clubhouse he ends up in.” Marco shrugged. “It probably helps that he didn’t try to deny it. He took the suspension without question. And he cooperated with the initial investigation. That’s something.”

  “But I suppose there will always be some who think it’s unforgivable.”

  “Yeah. There will be guys who’ll resent him. But then there are the ones who think ‘if you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.’ I suppose he’ll get the most grief from guys who had a hard time getting to the majors. They might think he took a spot from someone else. Someone who deserved it more.”

  “But he didn’t take someone’s spot. He was just trying to keep the place he’d earned.”

  “Maybe. But the thing is, people will question him for the rest of his career.” Marco poured coffee into her mug before filling his own. “If he has a poor performance, it’ll be because he was juiced before. If he has a really good outing, people will wonder if he’s using again.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah, the whole thing sucks. But it’s part of the game. It’s not going anywhere.” Marco took a sip of coffee. “Not with the pressure on players to perform. Not with the amount of money thrown at them.”

  “Did you ever?”

  “No. And I can’t imagine ever being in a situation where I’d even consider it.” He exhaled. “I’ve got too much to lose. Hunter has too much to lose.”

  “But she’s not involved with the team anymore.”

  “Not officially. But come on, she’s the heart and soul of the Goliaths. She always has been. She’ll get back into the game, I’m sure of it.”

  He smiled as if he knew a secret. Or maybe he was just smiling because he was happy. Why wouldn’t he be? He had everything he could ever want. A World Series championship, a long-term contract, and the love of his life by his side.

  “Wow.” Annabelle sighed. “You really admire her, don’t you? I mean, I know you love her, but…”

  Annabelle’s throat got all tight on her. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. But she wondered what it would be like to be absolutely worshiped by a man.

  “Hunter is my world. But baseball is a close second.” Marco flashed his dimples and went back to drinking his coffee.

  “Is there anything I can do to help him? I mean with baseball?”

  “I don’t know. How is he, physically?”

  “Stunning.” The word slipped out of her mouth before she could filter. “I mean, he’s in great shape. He’s definitely very strong.”

  “That’s part of it.” Marco shifted, a little uncomfortable with the topic of discussion perhaps. “But for a pitcher especially, there’s a lot more than just strength. Mechanics, for one. And then there’s the whole mental aspect. He’ll have to be able to keep his head in the game, even with the inevitable backlash. It could be even harder for him to keep his focus.”

  “So, am I an unwanted distraction?” Annabelle asked. “Or could I help him with his focus?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Oh, hell, I don’t know.” Marco set his mug on the counter. “I’m hardly an expert. I just know from my own experience. I know I’ve become a better ballplayer because of Hunter. The right woman can definitely help a guy’s career.”

  “But the wrong woman could send it the other direction?” She wondered what kind of woman she could be for Cooper.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think you’re the wrong kind of woman. I mean, you’re not…well…”

  “I’m not a groupie or a gold digger?”

  “Yeah, you’re neither of those types of women.”

  “But?”

  “You’re the kind of woman that a guy starts asking himself if he wants to get serious.”

  “And if the answer is no, then he’ll take off running?”

  He shrugged, their shared past hanging between them.r />
  Footsteps on the stairs prevented them from venturing any further down memory lane.

  “Good morning.” Hunter gave Annabelle a slight smile before turning to her husband with a megawatt grin. “Is that coffee I smell?”

  Marco moved to pour her a cup.

  “So did you have a good night?” Hunter took the mug from Marco and sat down at the table.

  “Yes. It was just what I needed. Thank you.” Annabelle sat across the table from her friend. “And I hope everything went well here. The girls didn’t give you any trouble?”

  “They were a little disappointed when Marco didn’t know any bedtime songs, but he read them a story and they settled down.”

  “Cooper is a talented musician.” Annabelle couldn’t help but sigh. “He’s been suckered into singing to the girls at bedtime.”

  “How sweet.”

  “So tell me more about his baseball talent.” Annabelle wanted to know everything. “Does he have a shot at making it back to the majors?”

  “He was one of the best, when he was healthy.” Hunter’s voice took on an eager tone with the discussion turned to baseball. “And a left-handed pitcher is always in demand.”

  “So you think he could find a team who’ll be interested in signing him?”

  Hunter bit her lip, as if she knew something she didn’t want to share. “I heard he’s turned down at least one of the offers that came his way.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Either he didn’t feel it was good enough”—Hunter glanced at Marco—“or maybe he’s thinking he’s not good enough. If he’s not one hundred percent, he might not trust his stuff. It’s always tough on an athlete coming back from an injury.”

  “Either way, I suppose the closer we get to spring training, the less likely he’ll make a team?” Annabelle worried for him.

  “Possibly. But there’s still a chance. Deals could fall through. Players might not pass their physicals.” Hunter’s speech became more animated. “There are always one or two last minute signings that make for an exciting camp.”

  “I knew it.” Marco laughed, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “You have baseball in your blood. I don’t think you’ll make it to the All-star break before finding some way to get back into the game.”

  “I made my choice.” Hunter crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t regret anything.”

  “Oh baby…” Marco came up behind his wife. Putting his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. “I still can’t believe what you gave up for me.”

  “It’s just baseball.” Hunter tried to brush off his statement. “It’s a business.”

  She wriggled out of his embrace and turned to Annabelle. “If Cooper’s healthy, he’ll make it back. There are plenty of teams who need another lefty in the bullpen. I think Philly or Baltimore are still looking for a guy like him.”

  Philadelphia. Baltimore. Both east coast teams. Her heart did a crazy little lurch at the thought of him packing up and leaving for the other side of the country.

  “Oh my, look at the time.” Annabelle didn’t want her friends to see her cry. “I’d better get in the shower and get the girls up for school.”

  She hurried upstairs, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes. She was going to lose Cooper. He’d tried to warn her. Only her stupid heart had ignored him. She’d gone and fallen in love with him anyway.

  Love. How was it possible? She’d only really known the man a week. Sure, she’d listened to him play his guitar every night after she put the girls to bed. She’d kept her bedroom window open, unless it was raining, and she couldn’t help but overhear his soulful voice, the loneliness that resonated with her. She’d recognized the longing in his music.

  So they may not have spent that much time together but they had connected. On a much deeper level than she’d connected with anyone. And that was even before she’d let him act out his fantasies with her in the red bikini.

  * * * *

  After Annabelle left, Cooper took a quick shower, downed a high-protein smoothie, and took off for a run down the beach. He had a lot on his mind and there were only two ways he knew of to get out of his own head, through physical activity or through music.

  He needed to run. A few chords on his guitar weren’t nearly enough to unravel his thoughts. Annabelle was at the forefront of his mind. She was something. No, she was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Her beauty was just the beginning. She was sexy and sweet. Nurturing and needy. No, not needy, she just had certain needs. The kind that he had been more than willing and able to fulfill.

  Holy shit. He’d made love to Annabelle Jones. Yeah, he’d made love to her. He didn’t bang her, nail her, or screw her. No, this was something else entirely. Sex on a whole other level.

  Yeah, right. He was officially losing it. He just hadn’t had sex in so long that he’d gone overboard. He’d built it up in his head so that it seemed better than it actually was. Just like he’d built Annabelle up in his head.

  No. In his wildest dreams, Annabelle hadn’t been nearly as incredible as she was in real life.

  Real life. For the past several months, that’s exactly what he’d been avoiding. He’d screwed up. Then he’d gotten hurt. For the first time in his life, things hadn’t come easy for him.

  So what’d he do? He’d given up. Buried his feelings deep in the back of his closet along with his glove. He hadn’t faced the music at all. He’d taken his suspension, but he hadn’t taken responsibility for his actions. He hid behind his shame and his scars.

  But his scars were nothing compared to Annabelle’s. Yet she still put on a brave face. She was so brave and so strong. She wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted.

  She wanted him. Even after she found out who he was and what he’d done. Maybe it was just sex, but he didn’t think so.

  The question was, what was he going to do about it?

  He reached the end of his run, downed a bottle of water, and stretched. Then he pulled out his phone and made a call he’d put off for too long.

  When his agent didn’t pick up, Cooper left a message explaining how he was ready to get back to work. He was one hundred percent healthy and would give even more than that to any team willing to give him the chance. He added that he’d prefer a West Coast team before hanging up.

  Yeah. Like he had any say in the matter. But he didn’t like the thought of leaving Annabelle behind. The only thing worse would be to have nothing to offer her.

  He had two options. Getting back in the game or giving back to the game.

  He returned home, grabbed his gear, and headed over to Sanders Baseball Academy. They weren’t open to the public until after school hours, but he knew Sanders would be in his office. Cooper was ready to test his arm. To see if he really had what it took. And if he didn’t, he’d decided to find out more about what Plan B would entail.

  “Hey, Coop. What brings you here this fine morning?” Sanders ushered him into his office. “It’s a little early for a throwing session.”

  “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that.” He dropped his bag on the extra chair. “But while I’m here I thought I’d find out a little more about what kind of program you’ve got here.”

  “I know you don’t have any boys to enroll, so does that mean you’re interested in joining the coaching staff?”

  “Maybe.” Cooper sat across from his friend, his thighs twitching with nervous energy. “I need to know what my options are. Can a guy actually make a living coaching kids?”

  “It depends on what you mean by ‘make a living.’ If you want to make the kind of money you’re used to, the answer is not even close.”

  “I mean the kind of money that can support a family.” And yeah, the image of Annabelle and her daughters stood forefront in his mind.

  “Does this have anything to do with the car seats in the back of your Escalade?” Sanders leveled his gaze at him. “With Annabelle Jones?”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, like I’m going to get Annabelle Jones to marry me.” Until he said it, he hadn’t realized that’s exactly where his fantasies were headed. “Shit.”

  Sanders threw his head back and laughed. “Man, you’re in deep. Real deep. Annabelle freaking Jones.”

  “Hey, that’s my…my neighbor you’re talking about.”

  “You really want to coach or do you want to look like a good guy to try and impress the lady?”

  “Somehow, I’ve already impressed her.” He should stop talking. He didn’t need to hash out the details of his night with Annabelle. It was private, something between the two of them. “Look, money isn’t really an issue. At least it won’t be for the next five, maybe ten years. But a man’s got to have some pride. A man’s got to have a job.”

  “You are serious.” Sanders nodded. He got it. “Good. We’d love to have you on board.”

  Cooper wiped his hands on his athletic shorts. Damn, he was sweating like a kid on his first date.

  “Wait a minute.” Sanders leaned back in his office chair. “You’re not giving up on playing are you?”

  “No. I just want to have a backup plan.”

  “So, I’m a last resort? Like that time you were the emergency catcher?”

  “No. That’s not it. I just want to cover my bases.”

  “Don’t give me that cliché crap.” Sanders always could smell bullshit a mile away. Or at least sixty feet, six inches away. “What do you really want?”

  “Until this morning, I didn’t have a fucking clue.”

  “What happened this morning?”

  “None of your damn business.” Cooper leaned forward. “But let’s just say I had a moment of clarity. It’s not just about me. Not anymore.”

  “You still want to play?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you think you still have it in you?”

  He stretched, reaching his arms back over his shoulders. When he didn’t hear a pop, didn’t feel a twinge, he nodded.

  “I think I need to try.” He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. He tried to visualize himself on the mound, with the grass so green and the sky so blue and the crowd buzzing in the background. He could see the target, the smooth, round leather of the catcher’s mitt. He could picture himself winding up, letting go, and firing one in. Right on target. Except instead of Roberto Luis’s ugly mug behind the plate, he pictured Annabelle standing up and tossing the mask, smiling as she threw the ball back to him.

 

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