“Oh, fuck.”
I wasn’t going to last. Watching her head bob up and down on me like that and seeing those luscious fuck-me lips wrapped around me was too damn much. I shot with a fierce roar, letting go inside her mouth, which she drew out by swallowing and moaning against me. The vibrations sent a delicious thrill through my spine and further prolonged my release.
She was smiling up at me when I looked down, her voluminous hair framing her delicate face. Gazing down at her in that state, I just knew I’d never let her go. My love for her really did reach no bounds.
I ran my thumb along those full lips. “I think you’re the one who’s been bad.”
She laughed and we spent the rest of the night being bad together.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kinley
Trying to capture the majesty of Chesapeake Falls through my lens wasn’t exactly a hard task. The forty-foot waterfall stood out against the surrounding pine forest, creating its own unique beauty. All I had to do was point and click.
But I felt horribly guilty that I was up in Vermont while Parker was at the Home Run Derby in Kansas City. I was going to make it to the All-Star game tomorrow night, but he was one of the favorites picked to win the Home Run Derby and I was stuck up here.
For the first time in my life, I really did not want to be at work.
I had booked this shoot months ago, before Parker and I had even gotten together. The National Conservation Department wanted a big spread of this particular forest because of some rare fauna that grew here. I’d tried to reschedule but I signed a contract—damn government agencies—so I had no choice.
I was stuck here for the next fifteen or so hours until I hopped a flight over to Kansas City tomorrow for the game.
I checked my watch and realized that I needed to get back to the hotel if I wanted to see the Derby start on time. I carefully made my way down the slippery, rocky hillside. There had been a steady drizzle since I got here two days ago. But the weatherman said it was supposed to start pouring around five o’clock and I wanted to be nice and dry in my hotel room by then.
I didn’t get a guide of any sort for this trip but found that I hadn’t really needed one. They’d sent a biologist out with me yesterday to show me where the particular type of fauna was so I could get shots of it, but other than that, I’d been mostly alone. And that was fine with me.
It was already nearing the end of July and I couldn’t believe how fast the summer had flown by. Between all the traveling I was doing, I hadn’t registered when one month ended and another began.
Every now and then I got frustrated with the fact that Parker and I weren’t free to just take a weekend and head to the beach if we suddenly felt the urge. It made me wonder if we were ever going to be able to have normal summers of taking family vacations and doing yard work on the weekends. Would we ever have that sense of normalcy like other couples?
But then I shook off those thoughts.
Those kinds of thoughts only led down a path to failed expectations and a whole lot of resentment. This was the bed I made for myself and I was going to sleep in it no matter what because I loved Parker. I wouldn’t let myself do our relationship the disservice of raising hell over issues like that.
We were both doing the best we could.
And baseball was his passion. I could never resent him for following his dream. Just like he couldn’t do the same to me.
When I reached the highway in my rental car and headed back to the hotel, my phone started blowing up with texts and missed calls. Chesapeake Falls may have been gorgeous, but it wasn’t a great spot for cell service.
I didn’t check my phone until I parked the car in the hotel lot, and then scrolled through the names and numbers as I made my way to my room. Parker had texted and said he understood why I couldn’t make it tonight and that he loved and missed me. Norah sent about five texts, wondering how my relationship—and particularly sex life—with Parker was going, using about a dozen different euphemisms for the words sex and penis.
Ryan sent a message about my most recent commission being ready and that I could pick it up whenever I was in town. Parker told me about the conversation they’d had at my awards ceremony, so Ryan and I weren’t exactly on good terms. I had no idea what made him think he had the right to not only talk to me that way but to my boyfriend as well, someone he didn’t even know.
I ignored him and scrolled down farther, noticing my mom’s name. I pressed send and listened as I let myself back into my room. Well, I’d definitely left the air conditioner on too high before I left. It was freezing in the room.
Mom picked up just as I was adjusting the temperature knob. “Hi, honey,” she crooned. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I just got in. Been a long few days.” I twisted my neck and arched my back, groaning as I heard my vertebrae crack. “You guys at the Derby?” I could hear a lot of voices and commotion in the background.
“Yep. We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I wish you could have made it. You’ll still be here for tomorrow’s game, right?”
I heard Dad and Clay arguing in the background about some obscure baseball statistic that nobody else in the world cared about but them. It made me smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there tomorrow. Did you need something when you called earlier?”
“Oh, no. I just wanted to check in and see how you were, though I figured you were working. I just wanted to call before we headed to the stadium. It’s getting hard to hear you now what with your father and brother fighting like cats and dogs over here.”
I laughed. “They’re your headache tonight, Mom.”
She sighed dramatically. “Yes, it’s my cross to bear, I suppose. Well, just call me when your plane lands, dear.”
“I will.”
After hanging up with her, I had just enough time to clean off with a quick shower before I was dashing back into the room and turning on the TV, clicking like crazy to find the right channel. Then, I was suddenly staring at Parker’s beautiful face. He was giving an interview about the Derby, which I was guessing had been filmed earlier in the afternoon.
“You’re one of the favorites for today,” the reporter said, holding a microphone to his face. “How do you feel about your chances?”
Parker flashed that famous smile, that one dimple poking out, and replied, “Just about as good as any of these guys feel, I guess. Everyone here tonight is a great hitter, so it’s going to take a lot to take home the title.”
Always keep your answer as vague as you can, he’d once told me about how to answer interview questions. At least according to the media coaches all the teams had to work with. The more vague an answer, the less room the press has to spin your words and use them against you.
“Is your rivalry with Appleton going to be a problem today?”
Rivalry.
Of course, the reporter would call it that. Sounded more dramatic that way. What it had actually been was a series of comments between two proud baseball players. Appleton was the third baseman for the New York Yankees, and last week some idiot reporter had asked him a question at a press conference that he hadn’t liked. It had essentially compared his game to Parker’s and he had made a stupid comment in the heat of the moment about Parker being slightly overrated as a ball player. Parker, of course, hadn’t liked his comment and respectfully told Appleton to concentrate on his own game and he would do the same.
Parker had even admitted to me that it was nothing. He knew that Appleton had just been pissed at the reporter. The two of them had always respected each other in the past, he’d said. But the media had been all too eager to sensationalize the situation and had thrown out the word rivalry somewhere in the mix of inaccurate articles and exaggerated headlines.
“Appleton and I have never had a rivalry,” Parker answered the reporter. “I knew that his comment had been said in response to a disrespectful comparison made by a member of the press. He and I have talked since then and there has never been any bad
blood between us. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy beating him today, though.”
Never lose your temper in front of the cameras and always try to end a response on a sensitive topic with a joke, he’d told me. It was kind of ridiculous how even the sports world had become dominated by the press. Not to mention how the players were often criticized for everything from the way they wore their facial hair to semantics, something that had nothing whatsoever to do with the game of baseball.
The two men laughed and the screen cut back to the commentators in the booth at the Derby, which was about to start. I changed my clothes, ordered room service because there was no way I was going anywhere for dinner and missing this, and got comfortable on the bed.
A Caesar salad and two breadsticks later, the Derby was down to three hitters, Parker being one of them. The other two hitters and had just gone their last round, leaving it up to Parker to beat the first guy’s number in order to win.
Holy crap, he looks so good in his uniform.
The way his arms bulged underneath his short-sleeved jersey and the tightness of his pants around his thighs made me want to climb on top of him and feel those thighs thrust against me.
Whew. Maybe I shouldn’t have turned the temperature down.
The timer for his round started and I screamed as the first ball Parker hit sailed into the bleachers. He’d been strong all night, looking in sync with his rhythm and the bat. He’d carried his momentum from one round to the next and he was looking good.
Right in the middle of the round, though, he started lobbing some balls, getting them into the outfield but not quite over the wall. The problem wasn’t with his power; he was still swinging for the fences. He just looked flustered for a second, like his mind had gone blank on him and he’d forgotten where he was all of a sudden.
His home run number wasn’t going up and I was starting to get worried. The entire stadium began cheering for him, getting behind him in his effort to make the last several pitches count.
And just as quickly as his rut had come up, it was gone.
His bat connected with the ball and it went over the left-field wall. One.
The next pitch went straight over center field, so high the camera man lost it until it landed in the top row of bleachers. Two.
He hit the next one over the wall, grounded the next, and then he was tied with the other guy. I held my breath as he readied himself for the pitch. The ball was released and with tremendous force, Parker blasted it into right field, close to the foul pole and barely making it over the wall.
That gave him the win and the crowd went crazy.
But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him.
He didn’t look too happy as he readied for one more pitch, the time barely allowing for it with only seconds left. This time when he swung, the bat shattered in two as it struck the ball. The ball went sailing, up, up, up, and right over the stadium wall in center field. A good four hundred and thirty-plus feet.
The time ran out and now Parker looked satisfied.
He turned back to the cheering crowd, took off his helmet and waved at the fans. I had turned into a fangirl myself and was jumping on top of the bed, bouncing the laptop that was perched on the comforter. I wanted to scream in victory but was conscious of the thin walls surrounding me.
Parker was the Home Run Derby champion.
I knew he wasn’t going to be able to check his phone for a little while with the number of people he had to talk to, reporters he had to give interviews to, but I still sent him a text so he’d see it first thing.
Kinley: Congratulations, baby!!! I saw the whole thing and I’m so proud of you! I wish I could be there to tell you in person but know that you have all my love! Call me when you can!
He never did, though.
He never called. He always called after a game, no matter how tired he was or what was going on. Even if it was just for a few minutes.
And I fell asleep that night, wondering if I’d done something wrong, if he was mad at me.
It didn’t make for a very restful sleep.
##
“There has to be something,” I said to the airline employee at the desk. “Anything, going anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s nothing we can do. The inclement weather has delayed any and all flights leaving this airport.”
“How long will my flight be delayed?” I couldn’t hide the annoyance in my voice.
I knew it wasn’t this woman’s decision on whether or not I saw my boyfriend’s baseball game tonight, but she was the only one currently in the line of fire.
“There’s no way to know at this point,” she said. “The weather is expected to be severe for most of the day, so it could be several hours. Keep watching the boards for updates, and you should also receive texts or emails from your airline with the necessary information.”
“So, you’re saying that my flight could very well be canceled and I may not fly out today at all?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Now, we can help you make accommodations near the airport. Of course, all of these other passengers will be thinking the same thing, so you may want to do that soon.”
There wasn’t much else to say. So, I just mumbled a “thank you” and walked away.
I looked out the big window to see an almost black sky, the tarmac being pelted with a constant downpour, and the severe wind sheers nearly pulling the trees I saw in the distance from their roots.
I sighed wearily. I was going to miss Parker’s All-Star game.
Fucking great.
Right away I called Parker, not sure of how he would react. I knew he didn’t have to be at the field for at least another three hours so I should catch him before he got too busy. He picked up on the fourth ring
“Hey, you,” he answered. “Listen, before you say anything, I’m sorry that I didn’t call you last night. After the Derby, me and a lot of the guys went out for drinks and I forgot to charge my phone so it was dead all night. We left directly from the stadium so I didn’t have the charger with me. And by the time we got in, I figured it would be too late to call you.”
Well, didn’t that just make me feel even worse.
“It’s okay. Not a big deal. I hope you had fun. And congratulations again. You put on quite the hitting performance, Mr. Cruz.”
He laughed. “Thanks, but it still wasn’t my best.” Then he lowered his voice and added, “I missed you, Kin.”
Please, Universe. Just keep kicking me when I’m down.
“I miss you, too. Which makes this suck even more.”
“What’s going on?” he said, concern prominent in his tone.
“There’s really bad weather up here,” I said warily. “Severe thunderstorms and high wind speeds and…my flight has been delayed. The whole airport is shut down until it clears, which the news is saying may not even happen today.”
He was quiet for a while, sending my nerves into panic mode. “Are you serious?” he asked. “So you might miss the game?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that the earth would just open up underneath me so I wouldn’t have to hear the disappointment in his voice. “Yes, it’s looking like I’ll probably miss the game.”
More silence followed and then he let out a heavy sigh straight into speaker. The fact that he hadn’t tried to cover it by turning away from the receiver let me know that he wanted me to hear it, which made this whole situation just horrible.
“Well…shit, that sucks,” he said. “I was really looking forward to you being here, Kin. You haven’t been to any games since the end of June.”
That made me pause. He’d never given me grief over missing any of his games before. He knew I’d been working. It wasn’t like I was blowing him off to go hang out with my friends or something.
“I’m sorry,” I said evenly. “You know I’ve had a lot of shoots lately. It’s summer and my work is outdoors. I have to take advantage of the warm weather.”
“I know but you’r
e the one who schedules your shoots, right?” he pushed. “I mean, you’ve known about the All-Star game for months. You knew it was in Kansas City and yet you booked a shoot in Vermont?” I could hear his temper starting to build, and I was trying to keep my own in check. The last thing I wanted to do right before his game was fight.
“I was under contract with this shoot, Parker. You know that. And I’ve done everything I can to make it to as many of your games as possible. I’ve adjusted my schedule so many times to see you play, and I’ve seen almost every one on TV that I can’t make it to. There’s only so much I can do. I have to make a living, too.”
“You don’t have to actually.”
Whoa.
He did not just say that.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He sighed heavily. “I make a lot of money, Kinley. If you moved in with me in Boston, you wouldn’t have to work. I could take care of you.”
I was dumbfounded and for a second, my brain could not function well enough to come up with a response. My senses quickly came back, though, along with my anger. “I cannot believe you just said that. You know how much my work means to me. It’s like what baseball is for you. How would you feel if I asked you to stop playing?”
“I eventually will have to stop,” he replied.
“And I’m sorry for that, but if I ever do move in with you, it wouldn’t mean that I would have to stop working. I like working. And I really don’t appreciate you implying that I should give it all up to be with you.”
He grunted in frustration. “I never said you had to give it up to be with me. All I said was that it was an option in order for us to be together more.”
I shook my head and threw my hand in the air because I had no idea what else to do. “Sounds like the same thing to me. Look, I’m really sorry that I won’t make it to your game. I want to be there more than anything. I’m camping out at the airport, for crying out loud, to see if anything changes. I don’t know what else to do.”
Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) Page 31