Playing for Keeps (Feeling the Heat Book 6)

by Alison Packard

  As Danny retrieved the gift, she put on the necklace. Now, along with her sapphire earrings—the last gift she’d received from her father—she had two pieces of treasured jewelry in her collection.

  “It’s from Mr. Taylor.” Danny’s voice crackled with excitement. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the tree and ripped off the wrapping paper like he was trying to set a new world record for gift unwrapping. “I wonder what it is.” He stared at the plain, square box sitting on his lap, his eyebrows pinched together.

  “Unless you have X-ray vision, I suggest you open it and find out,” she urged him with a laugh.

  He lifted the top of the box and a split second later, his eyes grew as round as quarters and his jaw dropped. “It’s a glove.” Handling it reverently, he pulled it out of the box, held it up, and stared at it in awe. “Mom, it’s a Rawlins. The same kind Mr. Taylor uses when he plays. And there’s a baseball and some oil in the box. You gotta oil a glove before you use it. That’s what Mr. Taylor says and he knows a lot about baseball.” A huge smile spread across Danny’s face as he pulled the glove on. “I can’t wait to play catch with him again. I hope he comes back from Texas real soon.”

  “Me too, Danny,” she said, fairly certain that Rick Taylor had just breached the last of her defenses. “Me too.”

  Christmas Day had always been a low-key affair at the Taylor house and today was no different. Years ago, when Rick and his brother were in grade school, his parents had declared Christmas Day a special day for the four of them. There was still a huge family get together, but it was held on Christmas Eve, and each year a different family member was designated as the host.

  This year the shindig had been held at his aunt’s home in Austin, and every Taylor relative had been there with the exception of Rick’s cousin and his wife who’d decided to go on a Caribbean cruise for the holidays. A large turnout wasn’t unusual when supper was at Aunt Winnie’s house, though. She was the best cook in three counties and had the blue ribbons to prove it. This year she’d baked four of her famous pumpkin cheesecake pies, and by the end of the night there hadn’t been a single piece left. Hell, he’d had two large pieces himself.

  This year’s gathering hadn’t been as difficult for him as the previous three. No one avoided him or looked at him with concern, or worse—pity, and when his brother recounted a funny holiday story involving Jill and her ill-fated attempt to deep fry a turkey, there was no uncomfortable silence. Instead, everyone had gotten a kick out of it, including Rick. Jill had been a huge part of their family for years, and although she was gone, the joy and laughter she’d brought into their lives remained. He was grateful. Grateful that her memory lived on in the hearts and minds of the family she’d married into and loved as much as she did her own.

  Jill’s parents hadn’t joined them. Grady and Merilee had decided to drive to Oklahoma City to visit Grady’s parents. According to Rick’s mom, they were seriously considering moving up there to take care of the elderly couple. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was because the memories in Lockhart were too much for them to bear.

  Since their retirement, his parents had taken to staying up late and sleeping until mid-morning. He, on the other hand, had found himself wide awake at eight-thirty, and after taking a hot shower and pulling on jeans and his favorite UT sweatshirt, he’d grabbed his phone and crept downstairs to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Once the coffee finished brewing, he poured himself a cup and headed for the living room where he made himself comfortable on his dad’s leather recliner. Other than the monotone ticking of the antique grandfather clock near the front door, the house was quiet. As he sipped his coffee, he admired the seven-foot Virginia pine Christmas tree his father had wrapped with what looked like twenty strings of multi-colored lights, and enjoyed the solitude.

  The thing about solitude, though, was that given free rein it led to all kinds of thoughts. And lately, all of his thoughts had been centered on Amy.

  A week ago he’d joined Amy and Danny at the movie theater. The second he’d glimpsed her waiting for him at the entrance, the memory of her body pressed tightly against his sent a fire though him that the icy breeze blowing in from the bay couldn’t douse. And it didn’t help that the black pants she wore fit her like a glove and emphasized the curves he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit.

  Danny had been thrilled to see him, as had Danny’s friend, Archer, another afterschool attendee of the youth club. Standing at the snack bar while Danny and Archer decided which box of candy they wanted, he’d turned to make a joke about missing the movie because the boys couldn’t make up their minds and could barely get the words out when her gaze lowered to his mouth and lingered for several seconds. She hadn’t forgotten their kiss either. And that turned him on even more.

  By the time they’d settled into their seats inside the theater he’d regained his equilibrium. But it didn’t last long. About halfway through the animated movie, his hand brushed against hers on the armrest and by mutual accord, their fingers twined together. Just her hand in his was all it took. He couldn’t concentrate on the movie to save his life. Minutes later, she shifted in her seat to lean against him. At that point he’d tried to think of something—anything—to resist the primitive force raging inside of him. But nothing came to him. Not a damn thing. All of his senses were locked on the woman sitting next to him. Her soft sweet fragrance teased him, reminding him of a kiss that had ended much too soon. And the warmth of her hand in his had him craving much more than just a kiss. So he’d sat there watching a G-rated movie while thinking X-rated thoughts. He’d never been so thankful for the cover of darkness in his life.

  When they left the theater, Amy mentioned that she and Danny were planning to drop Archer off at his house and then go pick out a Christmas tree. Danny had impulsively invited Rick to go along with them and he’d jumped at the chance to spend more time with them. Walking around the Christmas tree lot listening to them discussing the merits of each tree might sound boring to someone else, but he’d gotten a kick out of it. Danny wasn’t shy when it came to stating his opinion, and like most kids he’d pouted when Amy firmly overruled his choice of a flocked tree.

  He’d said goodbye to Amy at the curb next to his SUV after he helped her and Danny get the tree into the apartment. That was when he’d given her Danny’s gift and asked her to put it under their tree for him to open on Christmas Day. The surprise on her face indicated she hadn’t expected it, and she impulsively leaned forward to kiss him. As kisses went, it was brief and chaste, but when she pulled back and gave him a luminous smile he’d been more flummoxed than after the torrid kiss they’d shared two days earlier. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him, but the thought of not seeing her again until after the New Year had left him feeling unsettled.

  The vibration of his phone on the end table gave him a start. With his free hand he reached for it, and when he saw Amy’s name on the screen his morning suddenly got a whole lot better.

  “Hey,” he said, holding the phone to his ear. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too.” Her cheerful voice put a smile on his face. “Is it too early to call?”

  “No. I’ve been up for a while.”

  “Hang on a sec,” she said. “Danny wants to talk to you.”

  Rick settled back in the recliner, sipped his coffee, and waited.

  “Hi, Mr. Taylor. Merry Christmas.”

  “Same to you, Danny.”

  “The glove you got me is really neat!” Danny’s voice rose several decibels. “I like it as much as the tablet Mom got me. I asked her if we could call you so I could tell you how much I like it and say thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Rick shifted in the chair to set his cup on the end table. “Does it fit?”

  “Yeah. When you come back, can we play catch?”

  The hopeful tone in Danny’s voice tugged at Rick’s heart, and he suddenly realized Amy’s son had become important to
him. Disappointing him wasn’t an option. “I’d like that.”

  “Did you get some good presents?”

  “We haven’t opened them yet. My folks are still sleeping and my brother and his family won’t be here for a while.” He glanced at the festively wrapped gifts piled under the tree. “I’ll let you know how I make out the next time I talk to you.”

  “Okay. When are you coming home?”

  Home? Rick used to believe Lockhart was home and that it always would be. Living in San Francisco was supposed to be temporary, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  “I’ll be home next week.”

  “Could you show me how to oil my glove when you get back?”

  “You bet.” Rick chuckled. “Do you think you can wait until then?”

  “Mom says I’m not good at waiting, but this is important so I think I can do it,” he said, then there was a pause and the sound of muffled voices before Danny continued, “I have to go take a shower now. We’re going over to Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien’s house in a little while to give them their presents. We get to stay and have dinner. I hope there’s pie. I love pie. Especially apple pie. Do you like pie?” Another pause and more muffled voices. “Mom wants to talk to you. Bye, Mr. Taylor.”

  Before Rick could respond, Amy had control of the phone again. “I practically had to wrestle the phone away from him,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “You made his day. It was so thoughtful of you to get him the glove. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad he liked it.”

  “Oh, he did. If you would have told me a couple of months ago my son would be interested in baseball, I never would have believed it. I’ll have to learn more about it if Danny ends up in Little League. Do you think they have a Baseball for Dummies book?” she asked with a laugh.

  “You don’t need a book.” He paused, then lowered his voice. You have me.”

  After several silent, but electric moments, Amy spoke. “How long will you be in Lockhart?”

  “Missing me already?”

  “Yes.”

  Amy’s husky reply sent heat through his body. “I miss you too. Unfortunately, I’m not scheduled to fly back to San Francisco until after the New Year.”

  “I guess we’ll have to wait.” She tried to disguise the disappointment in her voice but he heard it all the same. “I’m always telling Danny he needs to be more patient. It’s time for me to practice what I preach.”

  “When I get back I’d like to take you to dinner. In Sausalito.”

  “I’d love that.”

  “If the ferry doesn’t run late we’ll have to drive over the bridge.” He smiled. “Think you can handle it?”

  “I’ll close my eyes until we get to the other side.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’ll be driving.”

  She chuckled softly. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “My brother and his family will be here in a few hours. We’ll open presents, then have brunch. It’s kind of a tradition,” he said as he grabbed his cup from the end table and stood. Skirting the recliner, he headed for the kitchen.

  “Traditions are nice, aren’t they? Danny and I have French toast every Christmas morning. According to my son, I make the best French toast ever.”

  “That’s because he’s never tasted mine.”

  “You make French toast?” she asked with obvious disbelief.

  “I make a lot of things, but I excel in the breakfast arena.” Rick set his cup on the granite counter and replenished it with hot coffee from the pot warming on the burner. “Do you like crepes?”

  “Love them, but I can’t make a decent crepe to save my life.”

  “Then prepare to be amazed. I’ve got mad culinary skills and I’m not afraid to show them off.”

  “And how’d you come by these so-called mad culinary skills? Do you watch those cooking channels in your spare time?”

  “No, smartass.” He sipped his coffee, then leaned against the edge of the counter. “I learned from the cook at the diner where my mom worked when I was a kid. I used to stop by after school every day to wait for her to get off of her shift. Instead of sitting around, I helped out around the place. Jimmy took a liking to me and would let me help him in the kitchen. After a while, I asked him to teach me how to make a few things and over time I learned how to make almost everything on the menu. I was better at some things than others. Take baking for example—not my thing.”

  “Darn. Just when I thought you were perfect you go and tell me you can’t bake.”

  “Is that a deal breaker?”

  “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how good those crepes are.”

  Rick laughed. “Oh, they’re better than good. And I’ll prove it to you when I get home.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said, then paused for several seconds. “Sorry. Danny’s having trouble with the faucet in the shower. I think it’s stripped and I keep forgetting to let Patrick know. I need to go help him. I hope you have a nice brunch with your family.”

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  After she’d said goodbye, Rick set his phone on the counter. Seconds later, the telltale creaking of the floorboards upstairs indicated his parents were awake and were getting ready to come downstairs. As much as he loved being with them and his brother, he wished he’d booked an earlier return flight to San Francisco. Talking to Amy on the phone wasn’t enough. Not anymore. He wanted—no—he had to see her again and as soon as possible. He had family obligations for the next several days, but there was no reason why he couldn’t fly back to San Francisco on New Year’s Eve.

  Two months ago the only things he’d been looking forward to in the New Year were spring training and the start of a new season. His baseball career was still important, but what was simmering between him and Amy reminded him that his career wasn’t enough. He wasn’t sure if Amy and Danny were his future, but he was willing to find out.

  Decision made, he grabbed his phone and called Amy back. She picked up on the third ring with a breathless hello. “Hey, I know you’re busy with Danny, but I wanted to tell you something.”

  “No worries. I got the faucet to work. Danny’s in the shower singing ‘Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer’ at the top of his lungs. For some reason, he loves that silly song.”

  Rick chuckled. “I liked it when I was his age too. Listen, I’m changing my return flight. I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve.”

  “That’s wonderful,” she exclaimed, then sighed. “But I’m working and I don’t think you’ll be able to get into the VIP section. We’re totally booked and have been for months.”

  “It won’t be a problem. I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve,” he said, not at all worried. He didn’t use his clout as a professional athlete often, but if it meant he could kiss Amy at midnight, he was more than ready to cash in his celebrity card. “I promise.”

  It was after nine when Amy gently removed the tablet from Danny’s lax fingers and placed it on the nightstand next to the glove Rick had given him. Then she kissed his soft cheek, turned off the light, and closed the door behind her as she left his room.

  Since Christmas had fallen on a Sunday this year, she and the entire staff at Logan-Johnson had Monday off. A day off with nothing planned was rare and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. Or at least she hoped she would.

  After the best Christmas she and Danny had had in years, she shouldn’t have been worried about something that might never happen, but she was. In her experience, when things were going well it usually meant that something would soon come along to muck it up, and although she’d tried to put her second run-in with Kirby Ferrara out of her mind, she hadn’t been successful. Despite a wonderful morning with Danny, a lovely holiday dinner with Jade and her family, and a promise from Rick to see her on New Year’s Eve, the conversation she’d had with Kirby over a week ago had hovered over her like a dark cloud on an otherwise beautiful day. And while she thought
she’d done a great job of masking her apprehension, it turned out at least one person in the O’Brien home hadn’t been fooled. And that person was now parked on Amy’s couch with a determined expression on her face.

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s bothering you,” Jade said as Amy sat on the end of the couch and tucked her legs underneath her. “And don’t try to tell me there’s nothing wrong. You barely touched your dinner and I don’t think you said more than twenty words the entire night.”

  “You have a talkative family. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

  “That’s never stopped you before. And it wasn’t just tonight. You were unnaturally quiet all last week at work.” Jade rested her arm on the back of the couch and leveled Amy with a look that said she knew bullshit when she heard it. “I’m serious. What’s going on?”

  Amy rubbed her temple and sighed. Jade was tenacious when she believed someone she cared about was hurting or in trouble. It was Jade who’d finally gotten Amy to admit that she was so frightened her stepfather would come into her bedroom at night that she’d shove her dresser in front of the door to try to keep him out. And it was Jade who had comforted her after the horrible man had finally cornered her in her bedroom and tried to pin her down on her bed. She truly believed Paul Massey would have raped her if she hadn’t fought back. But, fueled with adrenaline, she’d bitten his forearm so hard she’d tasted blood. He had screamed in pain and she’d used that brief window of opportunity to push him off of her and run like hell out of the house. It was Jade who’d convinced her to tell her mother what her stepfather had tried to do to her. The only thing Jade and Amy hadn’t counted on was that her mother would choose to not believe her.