Come Back to the Ballpark, Maisy Gray

by Cynthia Tennent

  “I have a whole hell of a lot more on my bucket list than that.” He rubbed his lower back disapprovingly. “Do you think I woke up your parents?”

  “Their bedroom is on the other side of the house. They never hear anything.” They were standing so close she felt his breath on her face. “Besides, they wouldn’t care. I’m not a teenager anymore.”

  “So does that mean you usually let any man who knocks on your window into your bedroom, little girl?” he asked in a seductive, wolf-like voice.

  She stepped back and adjusted her T-shirt and cotton shorts, suddenly aware of how she must look. “Only the ones who are about to fall off my roof. You’ve already hurt yourself enough on my account.”

  He rubbed his backside. “True. I still have scars from the shoes.”

  “Poor baby. I’ll make sure you take the stairs and the back door out.”

  “No arguments after that climb,” he said, stepping closer.

  Her heart was beating a mile a minute. “Well?”

  “I…” He stopped, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. “I know I haven’t given you time to think about it… and I don’t want to rush you. But I was wondering if you’d thought about trusting me, yet.”

  It was all she had thought about today since he’d stood in her classroom and quoted Peter Pan. Several times this afternoon she had been a millisecond away from climbing all over him like she had that night in July. It wouldn’t have taken much. Another raised eyebrow. A touch. A seductive word. And yet…

  This was a bad idea. She should have kept him on the other side of the window. Let the mosquitoes have him. It would have been safer that way. He was too close standing right here, in her bedroom. There were no distractions or interruptions to keep them apart. She should tell him to go away. Tell him she needed time. Or not. She already knew where her heart wanted her to go.

  “It’s not about trusting you, Sam. It’s about trusting myself. I’m not sure whether I can do this. I’m all mixed up inside.”

  He brought her hand to his chest. His heart was beating just as hard as her own. “That makes two of us. You weren’t part of my game plan.”

  “You make me sound like a rain-out.”

  “More like a tornado.”

  “Wha—?”

  “A good one,” he said quickly, touching her cheek. “Since you stomped out of my office, I’ve been in a terrible mood. Nothing makes me happy. I don’t care about the team’s winning streak. My staff is afraid of me. Joanie barely looks at me. And Tristan and Fuzzy won’t stop talking about love and relationships.” The finger that brushed her cheek had a slight tremble.

  She placed her hand over his. Calming him like he had done for her so many times.

  “Maisy. My career has always been the most important thing. Having you in my life is scary. But not having you in my life feels worse.”

  Maybe Mom was right. It was braver to take a chance on love than to play it safe. What had Sam told the second-grade girl today? Everyone misses the ball sometimes. But sometimes…

  “What if we take this slowly?”

  “How slow? Do you want me to go back out and introduce myself?”

  “I think we passed that stage already. Let’s just start with now.” She ran her hands along his back. The tension left his body and he let out a deep breath, pulling her closer. Who needed sleep? She could stay like this all night.

  Eventually, he broke the sweet moment. “Maisy?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Is this an Indianapolis Colts T-shirt?”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  He bit her neck. “Football, sheesh.”

  “I like football.”

  He reached for the bottom of her shirt and started to lift it. “I like baseball. First base. Second base. Third base. And ho—”

  She grabbed his hand.

  “Sorry, I get ahead of myself when I’m with you like this.”

  “One base at a time. And not home. Not tonight.”

  He paused, considering it. “Can I steal bases?”

  He was incorrigible. His hands wandered, and she grabbed them. “No negotiating. You want my trust, right? There are two outs already in this ball game, buster.”

  “Two?” He raised his head.

  “Yes. Two. You manipulated me to get me to the ballpark to begin with. And then you threw me at Kevin at the gala and you left me there alone.”

  “I’m a bonehead.”

  “You are. You totally ruined the gala. I should give you extra strikes for that. But I won’t.”

  He stole a kiss. “Thanks. Good call. Anything else? I feel like I’ve got some foul balls as well.”

  “I’ll ignore those.” That the part about sleeping with him was really her own fault. She was the one who’d attacked him. Of course, he’d been a willing participant, but the decision had been all hers.

  His hands were behaving, but his thumbs had a will of their own. “Maisy, how do I win your trust back?”

  “Win? Sam, the clichés in this conversation are getting a bit corny.” She pinched him in the waist and learned he might be ticklish there. She forged a trail lower and she learned how much he wanted her.

  “Go slowly, honey. Or this will be over before it starts.”

  “It better not be. Remember, Sam, baseball is known for being a slow game.”

  “I’ll be patient. Except for this.” He tugged on her shirt. “You’re going to have to lose the Colts shirt at some point. Just sayin’.”

  “You’re on.”

  Sam moved gradually, giving her time to change her mind. His tongue circled hers and she tried to capture it, but he escaped to the side of her mouth, dropping tiny kisses that were both tender and erotic. His hands behaved, staying in the general area of her back. But even so, she was on fire. And wickedly impatient.

  Sensing her restless frustration, he slowed down the pace and coaxed her to relax. The man was an expert at soothing her frazzled nerves. If kisses had words, he was begging her to trust him.

  But even Sam had his limits. She moved her body against his, inviting him to quicken the pace. That was when the sweet turned into something else.

  She must have whimpered, because Sam moved her back toward her bed. Their mouths still touching, he cast the sheets aside and gently lowered her to her bed. He followed her down, bracing his arms on either side of her.

  Was it just a few minutes ago she had been lying alone, staring at friendly ghosts on the ceiling? Ghosts be damned. She didn’t care who watched.

  “Second base. Please,” she begged.

  He trailed his hands down her neck and shoulder to the bottom of her T-shirt. “We have to get rid of this first. Football is like a cold shower for me.”

  She lifted her body and helped him raise the shirt above her head. Her bare skin reacted to the night air. She arched her back — an invitation that made Sam growl. Lowering his head, he gently touched the tiny nub of her nipple with the tip of his tongue. With delicate teasing that bordered on torture, Sam played with her until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  She caught the back of his head and brought him to her, brazenly demanding what she wanted. His soft chuckle disappeared when his mouth captured her. She gasped. The pleasure was so intense Maisy was ready to beg for amnesty and skip all the bases.

  But Sam was relentless.

  He nudged her legs open and cupped her breasts in his hands. Unable to handle such singular attention, she reached for his belt. But he dodged away. “Oh, no, Maisy girl.”

  “It’s oka—”

  “A deal’s a deal. One base at a time.”

  Damn him. She wanted to scream but remembered at the last minute where she was. And these were the rules she had laid out before they’d started.

  Sam’s hands trailed up her legs and to the juncture of her th
ighs. She opened farther for him, afraid he was going to stop.

  He might as well have.

  Instead of continuing the pace they had set, he went back to tenderness and sweetness. She was going to scream if he didn’t move more quickly. His fingers danced around her most sensitive places. His mouth followed.

  She arched her back. “Come on,” she ground out, surprised by the anger in her voice.

  But Sam was evil. He blew soft puffs of air that made her jump. “Poor baby.”

  Before she could tell him what she thought of his tactics, he thankfully landed on third base. The world erupted into sparkling lights and a victory she would never forget.

  ***

  When the cheering in her head disappeared and she could breathe again, she curled into Sam.

  “Wow.”

  His chest rumbled. “I’m hoping that was a good wow.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed, still trying to catch her breath. Every nerve in her body was buzzing. Was it possible she would ever enjoy traditional sex again?

  Sam’s own uneven breathing made her pause. Her eyes flew open. She had pulled his T-shirt off at some point when they were still on second base. But Sam still had his pants on.

  “You don’t by any chance happen to be carrying a baseball in your pocket, do you?”

  He patted her on the back. “It’s all right — go to sleep.”

  Maisy turned toward him. Sam was being way too generous. “But you haven’t—”

  He kissed her shoulder. “I feel it’s part of this trust thing. You deserve the better end of this deal.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She reached for the button on his jeans. He sucked in his breath. “Fair is fair. My turn at bat,” she said.

  ***

  A glow on the horizon cast a pink haze across the sky. Dawn was approaching.

  Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

  When he’d first climbed up the porch to reach Maisy’s bedroom window, he wasn’t sure what he intended. The most he could wish for was a kiss good-night and a promise to see each other again. And trust.

  She was still sleeping. This was the longest he had seen her so still. He took advantage of the moment.

  Maisy’s head rested in the crook of his elbow as she slept. Her cheeks were still flushed from their recent lovemaking, a cluster of tiny sun freckles scattered across her face. Her hair cascaded over the pillow. The trace of a smile was on her lips.

  Something stirred inside him that he hadn’t felt since he first discovered baseball. That feeling of joy when he took the field as a ten-year-old had carried a sense of destiny. But this destiny was different. More solid. And more satisfying.

  What the hell. It was time to forfeit and let his mind accept what his heart already knew.

  Last night, he had wanted to explain to Maisy why he loved baseball but how that love wasn’t enough anymore. Nothing was enough without her. He’d struggled with the right words. They terrified him. He’d find a way to say them soon.

  Her eyes opened slowly. She blinked several times.

  “Good morning.”

  She broke into a wide grin. “Good morning.”

  Then she did something so sweet and funny his heart cracked. She covered her face with her hands and giggled.

  He shifted her on top of him and pulled her hands away from her face. “Thank you for the best night of my life. And, I should add, the best sex of my life.” There, he said it. That wasn’t so painful. Of course, he hadn’t said it all. It was a slow sport. He’d get there eventually.

  She kissed his chin. “I feel the same way.”

  They pulled on their clothes, stealing lazy kisses and teasing touches. Maisy insisted on walking Sam down the stairs and out the side door.

  “I could have climbed back down,” he complained. It was kind of fun playing Romeo.

  She swatted his butt and dodged ahead of him on the gravel drive. “Sure, you could have. But I need you injury free.”

  They reached the road, where Sam had parked in order not to wake anyone when he made his post-midnight visit. He leaned back against his car and pulled her close. “I feel like a teenager, creeping home before I get caught.”

  “Imagine how I feel? I’m the one who still lives with her parents.”

  He ran his index finger along her cheek. The sunrise made her face golden. “Don’t think that way. You are doing something very adult by being here for them. More mature than most people.”

  She crinkled her nose.

  “Not many people would move home like you did. I see you watching your mother when you think she isn’t looking.”

  She closed her eyes. “Until Dad retires and can be home with her, I worry. It’s as much for me as it is for her.”

  He kissed the top of her head. He understood that kind of deal. Because of him, his sisters had gone to college and his mother lived in a nice house, mortgage free. His father had a new hip and a roof over his head, too. And Sam had peace of mind knowing he had done what he could for them.

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Go get some sleep.”

  “Sleep?” He stared at her and, for the first time in his life, wished the baseball season would end. Sleep was the least of his problems. “You know, today, when Zoom comes to the school, if it’s too awkward for you, just say something. I’ll tell him you can’t be there.”

  A wave of guilt washed over him as he recalled promising to protect her in a similar way at both the ballpark and the gala. “I mean it this time.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. The team is playing great without me. The stuff about me being lucky is fading. I’ll accept Zoom’s check on behalf of the school and we’ll all get on with our lives.”

  “Yes. Let’s do that.” He kissed her and watched her walk back up the driveway.

  Before he climbed into his car, he whistled. Maisy turned around.

  “See you in school, teach.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The energy inside the gymnasium of Franklin B. Joy Elementary School was electric as it filled with students and teachers. A little flutter of regret danced in Maisy’s chest when she saw the crowd grow. She reminded herself that it was all for the kids. They were benefitting from the donation. A smile and a wave were the most that would be required of her.

  A small group of bored photographers leaned against the back wall, taking pictures of the students as they filed in and sat in their assigned assembly sections.

  Heather sat down in the folding metal chair next to Maisy and yelled at two boys to sit cross-legged instead of up on their knees like they often did when they were overexcited.

  “You okay, hon?” she asked Maisy behind her hand. “Your face looks flushed.”

  It was probably a rash from Sam’s day-old whiskers this morning. Soon, Maisy would tell Heather all about Sam. But not yet.

  “It’s just hot.”

  As always, Heather went for the lighter angle to distract her friend. “Look at Dr. Harding. She must have gone shopping. New suit. And I would die for those shoes.”

  Maisy checked out the heels on the principal’s red pumps. “No, you would die in those shoes. I wouldn’t last more than an hour.”

  “Liar. The shoes you wore for the gala looked even higher in the picture you sent. Damn, I still wish you had saved them.”

  Maisy didn’t tell Heather that the last time she’d seen those shoes Sam had accidentally sat on them. She pinched her mouth, trying not to crack a smile. She had enjoyed examining him for damage last night. He was fine.

  Speak of the devil. He walked into the gymnasium wearing a gray suit, striped blue shirt, and thin tie. He inclined his head as he listened to the man next to him, but his eyes wandered around the room until they found her. The air crackled when their gazes met.

  Heather tapped Ma
isy on the jaw and closed her mouth. “Don’t drool, girl. Your kids will never let you forget it.”

  “Who’s drooling? I’m calm, cool, and collected.” Maisy indignantly smoothed her hair back while Heather laughed. And Sam. He seemed to think it was funny, too, by the way he was laughing at her.

  “Good morning, students, teachers, and guests,” Dr. Harding said into the microphone.

  “Good morning, Dr. Harding,” the students chimed back.

  “What a wonderful treat we have in store for you today. We are honored to have Mr. Zumaeta, the owner of the Indianapolis Turbos—”

  “And Donut King!” Zoom added, mugging for the camera.

  “That’s right. The Donut King is here today. He is going to share something very special with all of us.” The students clapped and cheered in their usual over-the-top way that took time to settle down before Dr. Harding could continue.

  Everyone stood for the Pledge of Allegiance, and once again, it took effort to redirect the students to the front of the gym. Maisy put a hand on a very noisy fourth grader’s shoulder and caught Sam watching her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. She wished she hadn’t let him know how much she used to get in trouble when she was younger.

  Finally, Dr. Harding made a formal introduction and offered the microphone to Zoom. Seeing a photographer, she posed, looking so silly even the kids were laughing during the long, awkward moment.

  Zoom clutched the microphone with both hands. “Hey there, kids! It’s been a long time since I was an elementary school student. Back then I spent more time in detention than in the classroom. Ha-ha.”

  Several boys in the back row shouted, “Me, too.” They were quickly separated by the fifth-grade teacher.

  Zoom was just getting started. He hammed it up about what school was like when he was a young man, making sure to include all references to corporal punishment and memorizing the three R’s. Maisy wanted to ask him if he’d written on a slate, too.

  Sam was glaring at Zoom as if he wanted to touch his shoulder to quiet him, too. They each had people to look after.

  “But telling you all about me isn’t why I’m here today, now is it?” Zoom asked.