Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  “Good luck with that, man,” Tim called. “You’ll need it. That one’s a handful.”

  Matt turned back, intent on teaching Meg’s jerk of an ex some manners, but Dave grabbed him by the back of the shirt.

  “One punch you might be able to explain. More’ll just land you in jail.”

  Matt sighed. Dave was right. He’d have to be satisfied with one good swing and the knowledge Mr. Flush was unlikely to bother Meg again.

  They walked in silence, winding their way across the casino floor to the doors, before Matt had to see if Dave could shed any light on the question that had been bugging him since meeting Meg’s ex. “What the hell did Meg see in him?”

  His buddy shrugged. “Maybe women find him irresistible.”

  “What a waste.” When Dave raised an eyebrow, Matt said, “You heard him. Why should a guy who doesn’t even like sex get to be irresistible to women?”

  Dave shook his head. “I won’t even pretend to be able to read your girlfriend’s mind, man. You want to know what she was thinking, you’ll have to ask her.”

  “I can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t tell her I was going to meet with Tim.”

  Dave whistled. “Dude.”

  Matt sighed—again. He was doing a lot of that tonight. “I know. I was hoping he’d man up and do the right thing.”

  Dave’s look was incredulous. “That jerk?”

  “I didn’t know what a bozo he was when I called him.”

  “I suppose not.” Dave ran a hand through his hair. “Now that you do, what’s next?”

  Matt swallowed—hard. “Guess it’s time for me to start thinking like a father.”

  Dave’s low whistle almost didn’t register among the chimes and pings of the slots. “It’s not easy, man.”

  “I know.” He gulped again. “But, unlike you, I have a few months to get used to the idea.”

  Now Dave sighed. “Not everyone can discover they’re the father of a four-year-old girl whose mother wanted nothing to do with him.”

  He clapped his buddy’s shoulder. “You got her to come around.”

  “Eventually.”

  Preoccupied, Matt wound his way through the crowd to the casino exit. Every kid deserved to have two loving parents, and Junior was no exception. Matt didn’t want the poor kid to be shortchanged because his biological father happened to be an ass.

  That meant he was going to have to put his hang-ups aside and be the kind of father his dad had raised him to be. Dependable. Stable. Loving. There.

  He froze in mid-step. He suspected he’d just hit on the reason he was so reluctant to be a father to Meg’s baby. He wouldn’t be there, at her side, every step of the way. With the team’s road trips, there was no way he could be.

  Just like there was no way in hell he could give up baseball. Not yet, anyway. Not until there was no hope that he’d make it to the majors.

  ****

  Matt got off the team bus in Phoenix and headed straight for his SUV. He knew he should check on things at his place, but he pointed the vehicle toward Flagstaff instead. After ten days on the road, with four wins and two losses under his belt, he didn’t want to wait until morning to head up the mountain to see Meg—or Junior.

  After another long talk with Dave, he’d decided to be there for Meg and the baby as often as he could and hope that would be enough. It had to be.

  The ninety-minute drive seemed to take three hours, but finally he was in Flagstaff. Ready to lay eyes, and other parts, on the woman he’d missed so much, he realized there was another obstacle. He had no idea where she lived.

  An oversight he intended to correct. Immediately. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed her number. She answered almost immediately.

  “I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight,” she told him.

  “Then hold onto your hat, because you won’t believe this: I’m in Flagstaff.”

  Meg gasped. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. I got back into Phoenix a couple of hours ago and had to come see you. So where are you?”

  He thought he heard a crash in the background before she answered. “At my place.”

  “What are you doing?” Another clatter prompted him to add, “Are you okay?”

  Her soft laugh tinkled in his ear. “I’m fine. Just trying out some new donut recipes.”

  “Do you have to make so much noise?”

  She laughed some more. “Sorry. I was fishing in the cabinet for the deep fryer and a stack of muffin tins toppled over.”

  Matt took in her explanation, conjuring a vision of a flour-dusted Meg in the kitchen. “Well, do you want some company or not?”

  “Of course I want your company.”

  “Then you’re going to have to give me directions to your place.”

  “You mean you haven’t been here already?”

  She sounded surprised—so surprised that Matt forgot she couldn’t see him and shook his head. “We spent all our time either out or in bed in my hotel room.”

  “I guess we did.” She gave him her address and directions to her apartment. “There’ll be hot, fresh donuts when you get here.”

  His mouth started to water. It was past time for a late-night snack. “I can’t wait.”

  The directions were easy enough to follow, and he soon pulled into Meg’s apartment complex. He claimed one of the empty visitor’s spots and headed to Apartment 122, steps away from the pool.

  “And she was worried about the pool at the condo?” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He rapped on the door.

  A muffled “Come in,” made him imagine her with her head stuck in the cabinet again, looking for something else. He stepped inside and braced himself for another crash.

  The sight that greeted him, however, was not Meg’s rear end sticking out of a cabinet. Far from it. Meg was lying on the kitchen table, naked except for a few well-placed donuts.

  The donuts, one chocolate topped with nuts and two others he couldn’t immediately define, looked delicious, but not nearly as delicious as Meg. He wanted a taste of her.

  Matt’s mouth went dry and his heart started to pound. He managed to croak out, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

  ****

  Meg released the breath she’d been holding. She’d felt more than a little silly lying there covered with donuts while she waited for Matt to arrive, but judging by the frog in his throat, her impulse was much appreciated. More proof that spontaneity had a place.

  “Welcome back, Matt.” She paused. What had she been planning to say next? Whatever it was, she’d forgotten the moment she saw him again. “I bet you’re hungry after that long drive.”

  His eyes darkened as he approached. “Not for food. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

  “Just like I’ve missed you.”

  He swept her into his arms, sending her donut bikini flying. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  She pointed toward the only door in the room, thinking Matt’s brain had to be scrambled if he couldn’t figure that one out on his own. She liked knowing she had that effect on him. “That way.”

  Moments later, Meg found herself on her back in the middle of her blue flannel comforter. After pausing by the side of the bed long enough to strip, Matt stretched out beside her and started nuzzling her neck. Soon, his hands—and mouth—started to wander. His breath was hot as trailed kisses over her collarbone and down between her breasts. Then he turned his attention to her nipples. First one, then the other.

  He raised his head and grinned at her. “Sweet.”

  Taking that to mean he liked the donuts, Meg giggled. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Matt arched an eyebrow and sampled her nipple again. His tongue flicked and teased until Meg writhed with pleasure. “Not so bad, huh?”

  Meg feigned wide-eyed innocence as she wrapped her fingers around his hard length. “Is that what I said? Allow me to rephrase that: You’re amazing.”

  A low growl ru
mbled from Matt’s throat before he covered her body with his and thrust into her. Meg arched her hips to meet him, relishing every stroke. Short and hard, long and smooth—they all combined to build delicious tension in her. The rhythm grew faster and faster until she found sweet release. Matt’s explosive orgasm came on the heels of her own.

  “Wow,” she murmured.

  “Wow is right. I think you’re the amazing one.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. It’s definitely you.”

  Matt grinned as he traced a figure eight on her hip. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one.”

  Meg nodded, and they cuddled together until Matt’s stomach started to rumble.

  She sat up. “Ready for a donut now?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  He chuckled. “Whether you have any that didn’t end up on the floor.”

  Meg swatted at his arm. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”

  “Then I’ll take one of those chocolate ones, please. And a glass of milk.”

  Not bothering to put on any clothes, she wandered into the kitchen. She fixed a plate with several donuts, pouring two glasses of milk. A snack wouldn’t hurt her any, either, especially after what she and Matt had just shared. Sex was great exercise, or so she’d read in more than one issue of Cosmo.

  In the time it took Meg to eat just one, Matt devoured three donuts, one of each, and gulped down his milk.

  He lounged against the pillows stacked against the headboard. “Meg Malone, you’re beautiful, sexy and you know how to cook. I think I’m in love.”

  Her heart sped up. Even if Matt was using the “L word” in jest, it was still nice to hear. Might as well return the favor. “I think I love you, too.”

  He bolted upright, his face suddenly serious. “Don’t kid about that.”

  She gulped. “You mean you’re not joking?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  No, right now he looked more earnest than she’d ever seen him. His gaze was intense, boring into her very soul. She swallowed hard again. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you.”

  “Make no mistake, Meg.” He squeezed her hand. “I love you and want you in my life forever and always.”

  Even though she hadn’t known Matt for very long, she couldn’t imagine life without him. She launched herself into his arms. “I want you, too.”

  “Good. Then we’re agreed.”

  She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she was agreeing to, but she knew it would be something good. With Matt, it was all good. “Definitely.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, after they showered together, Matt sat at Meg’s kitchen table, not-so-patiently waiting for her to deliver the breakfast she promised him would be the best he’d ever had.

  “I don’t know about that, Meg. I’ve had some damn fine breakfasts over the years.”

  She smiled as shook her finger at him. “Ah, but you haven’t had one of mine.”

  He watched her move around the kitchen. Her movements were efficient and sure. The way she did everything. He smiled as he recalled what those capable hands had been doing not too long ago, in the shower.

  He shook off the pleasant distraction and continued studying Meg as she whipped up batter and sliced a heap of fresh strawberries. It was fascinating to watch her create a nourishing meal from nothing.

  Matt wondered if she’d get the same kick out of seeing him in the kitchen. He vowed to give her the chance, just as soon as possible. He was no slouch himself when it came to cooking.

  When she put the plate down in front of him, it was heaped with fresh berries and whipped cream. There were supposed to be crepes somewhere under all those toppings, but he sure couldn’t see them. For such a girly meal, it sure looked like it’d fill him up.

  Well, only time would tell. He grinned to show his appreciation and picked up his fork. “If these crepes are as good as last night’s donuts, I’m going to have to marry you.”

  Meg laughed and swatted at him. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What’s that old saying? Marriage is a dish best served cold?”

  “I think that’s revenge.”

  She waved. “Marriage, revenge—it’s all the same. Love and hate aren’t all that far apart on the spectrum of human experience, you know.”

  Matt’s eyelid started to twitch, a sure sign that the conversation was stressing him out. How had they gone from sharing an intimate breakfast to having a philosophical discussion about love and hate? It was only seven o’clock. Too early for a talk like that. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to think straight without some food in his stomach. He’d hate to say something he’d regret.

  Instead of replying, he cut into his crepes. He took a big bite of the pastry, crowned with strawberries and whipped cream. The flavors exploded on his tongue, so fresh and sweet that he groaned with pleasure. “Delicious.”

  “Thank you.” Meg sat down across from him with her own, much smaller, plate.

  Matt frowned for the first time all morning. Waking up beside her for the first time in almost two weeks had started the day off right. The shower sex had been icing on the donut. “Shouldn’t you be eating for two?”

  Her mouth turned down, too. “I’m a grown woman. I know how to feed myself.”

  There wasn’t enough food on that plate to sustain one life, let alone two. “But you had to work up an appetite—”

  Meg instantly bristled at his bossiness. What right did he have to start ordering her around?

  “This is all I want.”

  Matt looked surprised by her frosty tone. Well, tough. She was a grown woman, old enough at thirty-two to know her own mind—and old enough not to let Mr. Bossy Britches tell her how much she should eat. “I eat what I want, when I want it.”

  This time, he shrugged. “It was just an observation, Meg. Don’t get all bent out of shape.”

  Watching him attack his breakfast with a little less gusto, she was sorry for stealing his joy. She sank into the chair across the table from him and tried to explain her reaction—at least as best she knew how.

  “Have I ever mentioned my parents?” She knew full well she hadn’t. When Matt shook his head and eyed her warily, her lips curved into the smallest of smiles. “There’s a good reason for that. My dad was—well, overbearing is the nice way to put it. He had a hand in every aspect of my life when I was growing up. He controlled everything, from what I wore to the extracurricular activities I was allowed to take part in. He even picked my prom date.”

  He was watching her intently now, as closely as he’d been watching her work in the kitchen moments ago. His fork dangled from his fingers, forgotten.

  “I was thrilled to turn eighteen and get out from under that man’s thumb.”

  “I can see why.”

  She seized on his understanding. “Can you also see why I didn’t appreciate your suggestion?”

  “I guess so.” After a pause, during which something indefinable flitted across his features, he added, “But I can’t promise to never give you my opinion.”

  She rolled her eyes. Did he think she wanted some biddable, plastic Ken doll with no thoughts of his own? “Opinions are fine, as long as they don’t sound like orders.”

  Matt reached across the table and squeezed her hand. His eyes were warm as they searched her own. Finally, he spoke. “Thank you for giving me a glimpse of what makes you tick, Meg. I’ll do my best to remember it.”

  Even as she wondered how he seemed to know exactly the right thing to say, she rewarded him with a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep reminding you. I can’t stand being told what to do.”

  “I know that now.”

  She’d been on her own for more than a decade now, and she was adept at running her household, driving her car and shopping for anything she needed. She was good at everything she tried. Except picking the right man. The way Tim dumped her made her question her ability in that area.

 
; If only her dad had allowed her to pick her own prom date—

  Meg cut that thought off before she finished it. She wouldn’t really have been better off. Even at seventeen, her man radar had been on the fritz. The guy she’d wanted to go with, a bad-boy type with a mullet and a motorcycle, had knocked up his prom date. They’d had their shotgun wedding, become parents to a baby girl and were now divorced. Last she’d heard, he was living in Orlando, running rides at Disney World.

  Maybe her dad had been acting in her best interest.

  Meg snorted. And maybe pigs would sprout wings. No, she was better off with that controlling man four states away, unable to meddle in her life.

  She glanced across the table at Matt. If he were going to be bossy, she’d be better off without him, too. No matter how good he was in bed, all the great sex in the world wouldn’t make up for an overbearing streak.

  She was never putting up with that again, just as she refused to put up with someone who wasn’t there when she needed him.

  It occurred to her it was a fine line she wanted Matt to walk: not at all domineering, yet completely supportive.

  Matt was smart, funny and eager to please. He’d handle her demands with ease, just as he did everything else.

  ****

  Matt glanced at his watch and cursed. It was already noon. Time to leave Meg so he could get back to Phoenix for the team’s afternoon practice.

  He’d much rather continue to snuggle on the couch, watching Twilight Zone. But duty called. He pulled away. “Sorry, Meg, but I need to hit the road.”

  She made a disappointed noise and clamped her legs around his thigh. “You sure about that?”

  “If I don’t show up for practice, the rookie will be starting in our next game.”

  Her thighs relaxed. “We can’t have that.”

  “Nope.”

  She was silent for a moment. “So when will I see you again?”

  He ran his thumb across her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. God, he wished he didn’t have to leave. What he really wanted to do was carry Meg back to her bedroom so they could spend the afternoon making love. “Our three-day home stand starts tomorrow afternoon. After that, I have two free days before we hit the road again.”