Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1)

by Melanie Munton

  We were always just there to play baseball. They didn’t judge me for anything else.

  And on that field, playing with the guys, I always felt like an equal.

  I didn’t feel like trash, didn’t feel worthless.

  Looking at the group of guys around me now, I knew nothing had changed. They never judged me for my past. Most of them didn’t have a clue about it anyway. They only saw me as the person I was today.

  Moberly stepped up to the plate and took his stance, letting the pitcher know he was ready. “Glad you said it, man,” he said after he lobbed one out to left field. “He gets so hotheaded on the mound sometimes he won’t listen to me. He’ll act like he is but he isn’t.”

  I stood off to the side, stretching my legs. “He’s young. He’ll learn. Especially when your old ass can’t chase all of his pitches anymore.”

  He scoffed then laughed. “Please. This body’s going to be playing baseball when it’s fifty.”

  I laughed and tried not to dwell on the truth. Moberly didn’t have that many years left in him, especially as a catcher, and we both knew it. Not that I had a ton of years left in me either, but he was much closer to retirement. It was going to be a hard day for both of us when he walked off that field. He’d become one of my closest friends over the years. At least he had his wife and kids to go home to once he hung up those cleats.

  I wondered if I was going to have the same whenever I was done.

  I guess a lot of that depended on Kinley and what she wanted. She hadn’t shown up to my games yet, but I knew that she was down in Key West right now for her photo shoot. I’d tried to not make it a big deal whenever I asked her if she was going to be able to make it over here. She’d said it depended on how the photo shoot went and wasn’t sure yet how it was looking.

  That had been a huge blow, I had to admit.

  I’d been looking forward to having her watch me play for weeks. Regardless of how juvenile it sounded, I was going to be crushed if she didn’t come.

  “So, you expecting someone at these games or something?” Moberly suddenly asked.

  I went for nonchalance. “What are you talking about?”

  He stepped away from the plate for a second to adjust his batting glove, glancing at me before he crept back into the box. “I don’t know. You’ve just been looking up into the stands a lot during the games. I figure you’re either trolling for the night’s options or you’re looking for a specific someone.”

  “Maybe you should be concentrating on your own game instead of checking me out.”

  He laughed, nonplussed by the bite to my voice. I couldn’t deny that I’d been a little grumpy the past few days, impatiently waiting for Kinley to show up. “Man, my shit’s always on point. But I’m the catcher and I got to make sure everyone else’s is, too.”

  “I was four for four last night,” I pointed out. “Does it look like my game’s been off?”

  Hell no, it wasn’t. My bat had been on fire the past three weeks, thank you very much.

  Moberly shook his head and smiled, hitting a line drive down the third baseline. “As sharp as ever, Cruz. Just wondering what’s going on inside my buddy’s head.”

  Dammit, but this man knew me too well.

  It wasn’t like I needed to unload my feelings to anyone like a woman. But I usually talked to Clay about whatever was bothering me and well, I couldn’t about this. Because this all had to do with his sister. And suddenly, I was desperate to get some of it off my chest.

  “There is…someone I’ve been seeing.”

  He immediately dropped his bat, left the batter’s box, and came straight to me, a cocky smirk on his face. “Knew it. Tell me everything. Who is she?”

  Since Kinley had never been to any of my games, none of the guys knew her. But they knew Clay and they knew he had a sister, and if I told them her name, they’d know exactly who I was obsessing over. Granted, I knew I could trust these guys, too. If she showed up here, I’d have to explain her presence to the guys and her name was bound to come up. Plus, I wanted her to meet my teammates and vice versa; it would mean a lot to me. And if I asked these guys to keep our relationship to themselves, they would. No question.

  “Keep it to yourself?” I asked him. Might as well come out with it. If she showed up, he’d find out anyway.

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s Kinley Masterson.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion as he began to connect the dots. “As in…”

  I nodded. “As in Clay’s younger sister.”

  His eyes widened in understanding of my predicament. “Holy shit. Does he know?”

  I shook my head, fearing the day he did find out because I had absolutely no idea how he’d react. “No. Nobody does. We haven’t said anything to anyone because we’re taking it slow and don’t quite know where it’s going yet.”

  Moberly stood with his hands on his hips, looking out over the field, his expression thoughtful. “How long has it been going on?”

  “We started talking again around Christmas, but our history is complicated.” His ears perked up and his head swiveled over to me, eyebrows raised in question. “We sort of had a thing while I was in the minors. It was brief but it was enough to make her hate me when I ended it.”

  “Why’d you end it?”

  I shrugged, questioning whether or not the reason made any sense to me anymore. “Got called up to the majors and she was young. About to be a senior in high school, for God’s sake. I didn’t want her to be throwing anything away because she chose to follow me around. She would have, too. She would have given up too much for me and I didn’t want her to do that.”

  There were a few beats of silence before he spoke again. “Sounds like that should have been her choice, though, right?” He said it slowly, choosing his words carefully.

  Again, I shrugged. “She was young and naïve and didn’t really know what she wanted. She wouldn’t have noticed what she was missing out on in life if I didn’t make her see it.”

  “So, what happened after that?”

  “I went to the Pirates for two seasons and then got traded to the Red Sox. She hated me after that so we didn’t speak for several years. Even while she was at college in Boston and we were in the same city most of the time. She avoided me at most of her family’s holidays, always leaving before I showed up or wouldn’t show up at all.”

  “And now?” he asked. “I mean, what changed to make you guys start talking again?”

  I ran my hands through my hair, trying to take stock of everything that had changed over the last few months. “We saw each other at the Fourth of July and then again in November at Clay’s election party. I don’t know, things just changed for me. I knew I made a mistake and I wanted to fix it. Realized I missed her. Plus, I was getting sick of all this sex with strange women bullshit.”

  “Don’t let Corbins or Rodriguez hear you say that,” he muttered.

  I chuckled, continuing. “So, I sort of switched gears on her at Christmas, let her know I was interested. When she pulled away, I just kept pushing. Eventually, it paid off and here we are.”

  “But where are you two at?”

  I laughed but it sounded rough. “Still figuring it out, I guess. Taking it slow. I’ve got a lot of ground to make up for. But we agreed to only see each other while we try to make it work.” I looked over to the stands, hoping I’d see her sitting there today. “She has a photo shoot down in Key West this week and she said she would try to make it over to see a game or two. Haven’t heard anything else about it, though.”

  He nodded as if everything now made sense to him. Well, that made one of us. Love was a complicated emotion.

  And nope, I was not going to tell him I loved her.

  That was revealing too much.

  “How do you think Clay will react when he finds out?”

  The fact that I was keeping this huge secret from my best friend made me feel guilty as shit, especially si
nce he hadn’t been the first person I talked to about it.

  “Not sure,” I replied. “If things go the way I want them to, he’d have to accept it eventually. But I think he would know that I’d never hurt her.” Then I added, “Intentionally.” Because I already had hurt her once. Hopefully, Clay wouldn’t kick my ass for that one when he found out about it, though I would certainly understand if he wanted to.

  “Well, good luck with that, then,” he said, slapping me on the back. “If it works out, I’ll be happy for you. Because settling down with the right woman? Trust me, it’s worth it. Believe it or not, I was one of the biggest man-sluts around before I met Ava. She set me right, though, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  “You mean you actually got more than one woman to sleep with you? I thought Ava married you out of pity.”

  He rolled his eyes and punched me in the arm, making me laugh. “Shut up, asshole. I’m just saying that if you think it’s right with Kinley, you need to go for it. You only get so many chances in life with a woman like that.”

  And didn’t I know it.

  I’d already wasted one.

  I was lucky to even have a second one and I sure as hell wasn’t going to waste it.

  I shoved him back toward the batter’s box. “Get back to work, man. After your hitting performance yesterday, pretty sure you need it.”

  “Screw you,” he sneered.

  “Having kids has really tamed you. Can’t even find the appropriate cuss word anymore?”

  He gave me a look, followed by the finger. “Fuck you.”

  I nodded, grinning. “Better.” I started to walk away and then turned back to him. “Hey, keep this between us for now, okay? I mean, if she shows up the rest of the guys are going to find out. But I’d rather them not hear the whole story. Or have Clay find out before I can tell him myself.”

  He nodded, all joking aside. “Got it. She shows up, I’ll let the guys know.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  An hour and a half later, we were all suited up and warming up on the field, throwing the ball around and getting loose. The stands were filling up and the sun was beating down strong on us. Just as I did before every game, I went off on my own to do some agility exercises for my knee that I learned in physical therapy. It didn’t give me much trouble most of the time, but I also didn’t want to increase the chance of tweaking or pulling something with it just because I didn’t properly work it out before the game.

  After I was done, I jogged over to second base where some of the infielders stood in a small huddle, talking to each other and looking up at the stands.

  “Not the best time to be measuring dicks, gentlemen,” I said, stopping to stand next to them. “What the hell are you talking about that you found more important than earning your paycheck?”

  Rodriguez nodded over to the stands. “That. Fourth row up, behind home plate. Brunette. Sorry, but I find a body like that pretty important.”

  I looked over to where they were staring, searching the rows of seats, until I spotted her. When I did, my heart skipped a beat. As cliché as it sounded, that actually did happen in real life. I couldn’t explain it any other way. It felt like the muscle had been so surprised yet excited at seeing her that it literally forgot how to function for a second.

  It was Kinley.

  And she was looking right at me, smiling.

  Hot damn, they were right. Taking in the sight of her was a hell of a lot better than getting ready for this game. In fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Neither could the rest of the guys.

  “That, boys, is off-limits,” I told them.

  A couple of them snickered, elbowing each other like they were in on a joke. I turned and stared each one of them down, my eyes hard and my jaw set. When I spoke, my voice was stern, letting them know I was perfectly serious.

  “I mean it. Off. Limits.”

  They stood there frozen as they took in my expression. I didn’t blame them for their reaction. I’d never kept a girl around long enough to make any claim on her, and I definitely hadn’t given the “hands off” speech to any of the guys before.

  But I was today.

  I left them standing there with mouths agape as I jogged over to my woman.

  And with that action, whether she realized it or not, I staked my claim.

  As far as any of my teammates were concerned, Kinley was mine.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kinley

  I wasn’t nervous.

  For the first time in I wasn’t sure how long, I wasn’t nervous to see Parker. Instead, I was excited, giddy even. I felt like I was seventeen again, waiting for him to visit from college so I could get just a quick glimpse at his beautiful face.

  I’d planned on coming to his game after the photo shoot all along, but I’d wanted to surprise him, so I let him think there was the chance that I wouldn’t make it.

  So here I was, trying not to fall on my face as I walked down the stadium steps, looking for my seat while trying to spot Parker on the field all at the same time. It was hot and even in my shorts and tank top, I was already feeling moisture gather on my back and neck. Luckily, the sun would be behind the walls of the stadium soon.

  From the second I’d walked into the stadium, I’d been immediately immersed into the baseball atmosphere and I loved it. The summer air, the smells of hamburgers and hot dogs, the sight of the well-tended field before me. This world was one I’d kept away from for so many years, but it was one that up until now, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed.

  After maneuvering my way around a guy talking on his phone in the middle of the aisle and a family trying to corral three kids into their seats, I finally made it to mine and plopped down. Both seats on either side of me were empty and I hoped they stayed that way. The seats were really close together and I was not at the end of the row; I didn’t want to get boxed in.

  I had to squint into the sun—definitely needed to bring a hat next time—and was finally able to bring the field into focus. My eyes swept the entire area looking for him, and I almost missed him doing high-knees on the backside of the dugout. He was by himself and seemed to be doing a lot of warm-ups that worked his knee, making me think of his injury.

  I remember when Clay had called and told me about it after it happened, and I prayed that he wouldn’t get hurt like that again. We still hadn’t been talking to each other at the time, but it broke my heart to hear about it nonetheless. I knew how much baseball meant to him and regardless of how things happened with us, it pained me to think that all of his dreams might have been crushed.

  And I couldn’t have been more proud of him for coming back from it the way he had.

  I wasn’t sure if I’d ever told him that. I probably should.

  Watching him, it was clear to see that he was already focused, had his head in the game even though it hadn’t started yet. He wasn’t looking up into the stands or messing around with his teammates.

  The sense of pride that washed over me, consuming me, as I watched him didn’t surprise me. That was how I always felt when I watched him play, even when I was a kid and first developed my crush on him. I screamed my head off for him at his games when I was a kid, then tried to play it cool when I hit puberty and acted like I didn’t care about his games, and then attempted to play the role of supportive would-be girlfriend whenever I went to his college games.

  But this was different.

  For the first time since knowing Parker, I finally felt like I had the right to be here and cheer for him. Like I wasn’t just some silly girl with a crush, following after him like a puppy. I finally felt like I had a place reserved in these stands for me, Parker’s girl.

  Was I Parker’s girl? Did he see me that way?

  We’d agreed to be exclusive even though we hadn’t made anything really official between us, so I wasn’t sure if he was interpreting things in “boyfriend-girlfriend” terms.

  I saw him go over to a group of his teammates and talk for a few s
econds. I hadn’t even noticed the other guys before, but I suddenly felt like they were watching me and I squirmed a little in my seat. My eyes flickered over to the other players for only a second and yes, it most definitely seemed like they were looking at me.

  Did they know about me and Parker? Had he told them?

  A little voice inside my head squealed at the thought of him telling his friends about me, like I was important enough for him to talk about with his teammates.

  Then, Parker’s head whipped around in my direction.

  And he looked right at me, eyes zoning in almost immediately.

  Everything around me ceased to exist in that moment. It didn’t matter how many people were around us or how loud the PA system was blaring through the speakers. Because when Parker looked at me and that smile slowly crept over his face, we were the only two people in the world.

  He said something else to his teammates and then started jogging in my direction.

  Holy shit, he’s coming over to me. I honestly didn’t think he would, not until after the game anyway. He didn’t look away from me for even a second as he made his way over, stealing a piece of my heart with every step he took. That’s what it felt like. As if he were slowly and methodically transferring my heart, piece by piece, into his care until he captured the entire thing so he could hold it in his hands.

  I just hoped he wouldn’t drop it once that happened.

  He was about to the stadium wall when the corner of his mouth quirked up and he crooked his finger at me. Come here he mouthed. My brain was suddenly robbed of the ability to think, so I just let my legs robotically lead me through the seats and down the steps to him.

  Then, I stood in front of him.

  Parker Cruz, in all of his baseball uniformed glory, standing in front of me, smiling just for me. Just like I’d always wanted.

  Is this a dream?

  “You made it,” he said, the smile still plastered on his tanned, stubbled face.