Tessa and Sadie glanced at each other in alarm. Tessa clambered over the row of seats until she was right behind him, watching the TV over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“Ian Sullivan. Rumors been flying he’s going to need surgery. He’s a lefty, so that means Hart’s a shoo-in. Especially the way he’s been pitching. They’ll let today slide.”
“He’s pitching just fine today,” Tessa said loyally. But Sadie couldn’t summon so much as a smile.
Caleb was about to get called up. He was leaving the Catfish.
Leaving her.
He was going back. Caleb tried to hide the exultation that surged through him as Duke delivered the news.
“They want you on the next plane to San Diego for the upcoming home stand. Congratulations, Hart. You’ve earned it.”
The next plane. Crap. His grin slid a bit as he realized he wouldn’t have time for more than a quick good-bye to Sadie and his family.
Duke continued, “Unfortunately, the earliest flight the travel office could find is tomorrow morning at eight. Puddle-jumper from the Kilby airport to Houston.”
“Got it. Thanks, Duke. Thanks for everything.”
Duke stood up and shook his hand. “I don’t want to see you back here, Hart. Got it?”
“I don’t intend to come back.” But the words struck the wrong note, like the ominous shake of a rattlesnake’s tail. Leaving Kilby meant leaving Sadie, and things weren’t settled with her, not at all. She couldn’t just pick up and leave everything, no matter how much he might want her to. And he didn’t have anything solid to offer her yet. He’d be staying in a hotel at first, until he proved himself enough to secure a spot in the lineup. Right now he was an injury replacement. He wouldn’t even sign a short-term lease until he had a better idea of his chances of staying on.
The only guarantee in baseball was that nothing was guaranteed, and you’d better be okay with things changing with one swing of a bat.
He left Duke and loped back to the clubhouse, where applause and a few pats on the butt greeted him. Somehow, he’d held his own against the wind and the Catfish had squeaked out a two-run victory. But more than that, everyone celebrated when someone got called up.
“You show ’em, Hart,” said Mike Solo, giving him a chest bump. “And keep a spot in the dugout warm for me. I’ll be right behind you.”
Caleb grinned and went to his locker, where he stuffed his few personal items—iPod, extra jock strap, his phone, and a couple of T-shirts—in his bag. The clubhouse attendant would be responsible for removing the tape with his name and replacing it with that of the Double A guy who was right now getting the word that he was jumping up a level. That’s how it went in baseball. One guy’s bad luck meant a break for other guys all the way down the line.
Everything depended on what you did with that break. His stomach tightened. This time he wasn’t going to mess up.
Bingo begged off from dinner that night, saying he felt some kind of flu coming on. Caleb and Sadie dropped him off at the apartment, then headed back into a gorgeous night the color of sapphire velvet. Tessa and the boys were going to meet them at Lone Star Pizza—as if they hadn’t eaten enough ballpark food for an entire Boy Scout troop.
Sadie, sadness lurking around the edges of her smile, had given him a huge hug when he’d exited the ballpark. Now he drove with his right hand on her thigh, his fingers savoring the firm give of her muscles. Her hand rested on top of his. It wasn’t a sexual connection, but more of a grounding one. He felt better when he had Sadie nearby, that was all there was to it.
“This doesn’t change anything with us,” he told her roughly, after they’d driven a few blocks in silence. “I promise.”
“I suppose we can go back to the early days when we talked on the phone all the time.” She offered him a smile that managed to look both brave and cheeky at the same time. “I’ve heard some people have a lot of fun with phone sex.”
“Now you’re talking, sweet cheeks. ’Course, I had my own version of phone sex going on back then. It was a little lonely, but it got the job done.”
“You did not.” She made to draw her hand away from his, but he grasped it in his and drew their clasped hands onto his own lap.
“Your voice is so sexy, it drove me crazy.”
“But we didn’t talk about anything like that. We were talking about . . . I don’t know, slugs.”
“You could talk about toilet cleaner and I’d probably get turned on.” Even the subject of phone sex was getting him hot. He moved her hand toward the expanding bulge in his jeans. “Yep. Look at that.”
“Caleb!” She sounded both scandalized and fascinated at the same time, which he found even more arousing. Exploring with her fingertips, she pressed the outlines of his erection. “I will never understand men.”
“What’s so hard to understand? You turn me on. I could pull over right now and show you how much.”
“Don’t you think your family will be a little worried when you turn up three minutes late?” She laughed at him, eyes sparkling in the light from the dashboard.
“Oh, you did it now. Three minutes?” He laughed maniacally. “I can make you come in two, and use the remaining minute for myself.” He swung the steering wheel to the right and veered into the parking lot of a strip mall. None of the businesses were open, but a few people had left their cars overnight. One more wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention. He chose the darkest corner and braked to a stop. He turned off the lights, so soft darkness fell around them.
“Don’t even think about it,” she squeaked as he turned toward her, his eyes a glitter of sheer lust.
“Oh, I’m thinking about it. Actually, I’m done thinking about it.” He disengaged his seat belt with a snap, then leaned over and did the same to hers. The fresh scent of his recent shower, mingled with the quintessentially masculine smell of his skin, made her let out a long, lascivious breath. “I heard that,” he told her. “I know what that sigh means.” He hovered over her, his nearness causing every hair on her arms to rise.
“What?” She laughed up at him. “Maybe it just means that it’s good to get my seat belt off.”
He pulled the lever on her seat, so she suddenly found herself nearly flat on her back. She made a goofy eep sound that he immediately mimicked.
“Eep. Eep.”
“I suppose you know what ‘eep’ means too.” Her breath was coming in skips and gasps as his hand roamed across her rib cage.
“Yes ma’am, I know what ‘eep’ means. It means ‘Do me, Caleb. Do me hard and fast.’ ”
She wished she could say he was wrong, but his warm breath on her face and his exploratory, hungry hand were sending her into a kind of reverse coma, hyperawake instead of sleepy, ultrasensitized instead of unconscious. When he nestled his hand around her breast, she nearly moaned, but he caught the sound with his warm lips.
“Shh, my love. I think we’re safe, but we don’t know who’s around. Same reason we’re keeping our clothes on.” He squeezed her breast through her tank top, making her bra scrape across her nipples.
“Oh God,” she groaned. “If you want me to be quiet, you shouldn’t make it feel so good.”
“Sorry, no can do. I want you to feel the best you’ve ever felt.” He nuzzled her neck while his hand traveled to the waistband of her shorts. She pressed up against him, crazy for him, wild for him, loving the way his big body hovered over her, all that strength restrained so she wouldn’t get crushed. All that power about to explode.
“Caleb,” she murmured. “How do you make me do these things? We’re in a parking lot outside Betty Sue’s Acrylic Nails and I want your hand inside my pants.”
His expression tightened into predatory lust. “Is that a fact? All you had to do was say so.” Deftly, with those talented pitcher’s hands, he undid the top button and slid down her zipper. He cupped her outside her panties first, using the dampened fabric to make little circles over her clit. Then he slipped inside. Her wet se
x was primed for his touch, and her legs fell open before she even realized what was happening.
“My hand’s inside your pants, my love. What else do you want?”
“Move it,” she said harshly. “Back and forth. The way you do. It feels so good.”
“Yes it does,” he said with heartfelt appreciation. “You feel like silk, like the softest thing I ever felt.” But his hand wasn’t soft; it was hard and callused, and he used those ridges of skin to create havoc on her nerve endings. She panted and twisted against the cloth-covered seat of the Jeep. The windows fogged up, creating an even greater feeling of intimacy. Outside, the steady whir of tires on pavement provided a soothing sort of white noise. She could stay here forever, immersed in this moment of pleasure, in the presence of this unexpected and miraculous man.
She came with one long, primitive groan, almost like a man, riding his hand for every last shivery spasm of sensation.
“Your . . . turn . . .” she gasped.
“I don’t think—”
“Shut up and get back to your own seat.”
With a snort of laughter, he returned to the driver’s seat. She yanked down his zipper and worked her way on top of him, squeezing between his big body and the steering wheel. He pushed the seat farther back, his eyes pure silvery heat in the steamy darkness. She drank in the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest, the tightening tendons of his neck, the way his muscled thighs felt beneath her body, the scent of sex that hung between them. She freed his shaft from his boxers and impaled herself in one swift move.
“Know how much time it takes for a fastball to get over the plate?”
“What?”
“Four hundred milliseconds.” And he exploded, taking her with him into a spiraling freefall that she never wanted to end.
Chapter 21
THE TICKLE OF a soft laugh against his ear pulled Caleb from his sex-induced coma. Sadie was still draped across him in the driver’s seat. Laughing.
“What?”
“Why were you quoting baseball statistics while you came?”
Was he? He didn’t quite remember what had flashed through his brain at that moment. “I’m pretty sure it was physics. Speed of a baseball, right?”
“You said it takes four hundred milliseconds for the ball to reach the plate. Just wondering why you brought up that piece of information at that exact moment.” Her sparkling eyes laughed at him in the way that always made him feel juiced and jazzed and a little jangled up.
“Well . . .” He squinted, trying to remember why it had seemed significant. He traced the line of her jaw, the merry curve of her lips. This was how he loved to see Sadie—relaxed and happy and sexed up. “Because I don’t think it even took that long for me to fall for you.”
Her smile vanished. A sheen of tears caught the light of a passing car. “How’d I get so lucky?” she whispered. “Whatever happens after this, it’s been the best thing in my life, knowing you.”
“Don’t talk that way, Sadie. It makes me nervous.” He shifted her onto the passenger side and raised his seat back. He fastened his pants over his softening penis, then helped her adjust her clothing. “We’re together. I’d like to see the Friars, the Wades, or anyone else fuck it up for us. Not going to happen, sweet cheeks. You’re stuck with me. It just might take a little while for us to figure out how to fit together. I mean, out there.” He gestured to the night, to the steady slipstream of traffic, the flow of the rest of existence. “In here, we fit together like a ball in a glove.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t mean to get maudlin. I just . . . I love you, Caleb.”
The palms of his hands tingled. Mini shock waves ran through him. He opened his mouth to tell her the same thing—I love you too. I just realized it today, at the ballpark. My heart is yours, only yours, forever—when bright lights flashed in his eyes and a car pulled up next to them. He gave Sadie a quick once-over to make sure she was decent.
“We seem to have a weakness for close calls,” he murmured to her as he turned the key in the ignition.
She shrank back against the seat. “I think they recognize you. They’re waving.”
In the big SUV next to them, two guys in Catfish caps were gesturing at him to roll down his window. “Caleb Hart?”
Not wanting to risk a long conversation, he called through the glass. “This isn’t the right moment, dude. I’ll catch you next time, okay?”
The guy didn’t crack a smile. “Just want you to know I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do to my kid. You guys should think about that when you go for the easy money.”
“What?” Caleb shot Sadie a puzzled glance. “I got called up. That’s what us minor leaguers work for. How’s that easy money?”
But the guy just shook his head, as if he was utterly disappointed, and rolled up his window. Then the SUV backed out of the lot, as if they didn’t even want to share a parking lot with him.
“What the hell?” Caleb stared after them, mystified. “Maybe they just read the article about Bingo.”
“But . . . easy money? He made it sound like you did something wrong. Like you were the one who ripped off those women.”
A horrible thought struck Caleb. What if Bingo had decided to talk about the way he’d used his kids as unwitting messengers? What if he’d lied and made it sound worse than it was? What if all the news outlets were now blabbing on about morals in sports and the latest athlete hero to take a fall?
His hand trembling, he turned on the radio and flipped to an AM station that carried late night sports news.
“The news about Thurston ‘Bingo’ Howell II’s alleged illegal bookmaking at Catfish Stadium comes at a sensitive time for his son Caleb, who just got called up to the San Diego Friars. As we all know, Major League Baseball takes gambling charges very, very seriously. Hart could not be reached for comment tonight, but we’ll be sure to have more on this developing story as soon as more information comes out.”
For a moment the world went black around him, as if he’d been plunged into a dark vortex. He couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, couldn’t hear anything except a pounding in his ears.
He became aware of a warm body hanging onto his arm. He wanted to shake it off, but some distant part of his brain told him that wasn’t okay. The pounding kept going, a heartbeat of horror. A panicked voice penetrated the dense fog surrounding him.
“Stop it, Caleb. Please stop it. You’ll hurt yourself.”
Consciousness returned. He became aware that he was repeatedly slamming his fist against the steering wheel. His left fist; his pitching hand. The hand that was supposed to pitch for the San Diego Friars soon.
He snatched it away and plunged his fingers into his hair, digging into his scalp. The pain in his head brought him back. “I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll kill him. He promised,” he choked in a thick voice.
“We have to find out more, Caleb. It’s just allegations. Maybe he didn’t do anything wrong, or maybe it’s not that bad.” Sadie’s arms were wrapped around him, as if she was trying to keep him from hurting himself. Too late for that; he’d hurt himself by being born into a family of crooks.
“You don’t understand, Sadie.”
“Maybe I don’t. Explain it to me, Caleb. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.” She kept talking in this soft, caring voice that made him nuts. He didn’t deserve niceness right now.
“You don’t want to know,” he told her harshly.
“Yes, I do.”
He glanced down at her, so wide-eyed and concerned. She was still plastered against his side. He peeled her arms off him. “I have to get out of this car,” he choked. Pushing open the door, he stumbled outside and took long gulps of the warm night air. He heard a car door slam and knew she must be coming after him.
No. No. He didn’t want her around right now. He couldn’t tell her, couldn’t disillusion her. Couldn’t bear it if she looked at him without that light in her eyes. At the edge of the parking lot, he whirled around. She s
tood in the garish pool of light from a streetlight.
“Here.” He tossed her the keys. “Take the Jeep. Drive yourself home, do whatever you want. I need some time.”
She let the keys fall to the asphalt. He steeled his heart against the stricken look on her face. “Caleb. Don’t do this. I want to help, if I can.”
“You can’t. Not right now. I’ll call you later. I promise. I just need to walk this off.”
“Caleb!”
But he was already hurrying away from the parking lot. If he could have walked himself right out of his body, he would have.
After wiping her face clean of tears, Sadie drove the Jeep—radio off—to the Lone Star, where Tessa and the boys were digging into two large pepperoni pizzas in happy oblivion. As soon as Tessa saw the look on Sadie’s face, she excused herself and the two of them hurried into the bathroom.
“A news story just broke about Bingo getting involved in some sort of gambling thing. Caleb’s really upset and he went off by himself. He gave me his Jeep.” Her voice was trembling so hard she sounded like a stroke victim. That’s almost how she felt, having gone from sexual bliss to shock and horror so quickly.
“Shit. I should never have brought the boys here. I should have known.” Tessa checked her watch. “I’m going to take them to a hotel. I’ll get ahold of Caleb and pick him up when he’s ready. He just needs some time, that’s all. We’ve been through this before.”
“But—” Sadie fought back a new threat of tears. Why wouldn’t Caleb let her help? Why Tessa, but not her? Didn’t he trust her? She forced herself to remember this wasn’t about her. “Okay. Will you call me when you find him?”
“Of course. Can you get someone to help you with the Jeep?”
It was after eleven. She couldn’t call her mother or Donna. Definitely not her boss. She cringed as she thought about Mayor Trent’s likely reaction to this news. Not to mention that of the Ladies’ Auxiliary.
All of Me Page 22