by Nora Roberts
“You could’ve had a date,” Emma objected. “I can get you a date in five seconds.”
“That’s really sweet, but no. Big no.” Parker rose and began to stack dishes. “Let’s get this done because I have some relaxing and satisfying file purging to do.”
“That’s just really sad.”With a shake of her head, Mac grabbed a tray.
“Who could you get in five seconds?” Jack wondered. Emma shot him a laughing look over her shoulder as she carried in dishes.
“I’ll be right in,” Del told Laurel. “I just need to take care of something first.”
“If you’re more than five minutes, I’m sticking you with the pans.
When Del pulled out his phone, Mrs. Grady looked up from Laurel’s sketchbook. “What are you up to?”
“Just looking out for my sister.” He wandered off to make a call.
IT WASN’T EXACTLY LIKE HERDING CATS, LAUREL SUPPOSED, BUT IT was pretty damn close. Here were people who successfully ran their own businesses, who taught the youth of the country, who represented citizens in the court of law—and none of them could get to one place at one time.
A dozen essential items were remembered at the last minute, then retrieved. Debates broke out on the system of loading the van, then on Parker’s seat assignments.
Laurel dug a soft drink out of one of the coolers and, popping it open, walked over to sit on one of the low garden walls while chaos reigned.
“Why aren’t you over there fixing this?” she asked Parker when her friend sat down beside her.
“They’re having fun.” She held out a hand for the drink. “And I built an extra twenty minutes into the load time.”
“Naturally. Did you really purge files all afternoon?”
“Some people do crossword puzzles.”
“How many calls did you get?”
“Five.”
“Some holiday.”
“It works for me. Things seem to be working for you, too.”
Laurel followed Parker’s gaze and watched Del rearrange the placement of a hamper and a pair of folding chairs. “We haven’t had a fight. It’s kind of nerve-racking.”
“Oh, you’ll get back to that.” Parker patted Laurel’s knee, then rose. “All right, people, this bus is leaving the station. Everyone into their assigned seats.”
Del shut the back door of the van then walked over to take Laurel’s hand. “You get to sit beside me. My sister fixed it.”
“It’s going to be pretty crowded. I might have to sit on your lap.”
He grinned as she climbed in. “We can hope.”
CHAPTER NINE
THANKS TO PARKER’S SCHEDULE THEY ARRIVED EARLY ENOUGH TO claim a good location for what Laurel thought of as their camp. Folding chairs were unfolded, blankets spread, hampers and coolers hauled.
Del tossed a ball glove into Laurel’s lap. “Right field.”
“I always get stuck back in right field,” she complained. “I want to play first base.”
Dating status notwithstanding, he looked at her with pity. “Face it, McBane, you field like a girl. Most of the shots are going to stay in the infield, so I need Parker on first.”
“Parker’s a girl.”
“But she doesn’t field like one.Jack’s got Emma and Mac, Carter’s going to ump so nobody gets hurt. Plus he’ll be fair. We’re filling in the rest with pickups, and some are unknown quantities, so until ... And here comes my ringer.”
Laurel looked over. “You drafted Malcolm Kavanaugh?”
The light of competition sparked in Del’s eyes. “He’s got serious skills, plus it evens things out.”
“The lineups?”
“No.You know, with Parker.”
“Parker?” Shock, then amusement, then her own dose of pity ran over her face. “You got Parker a date? Jesus, Del, she’s going to kill you.”
“Why?” Absently, he tossed a ball from hand to glove, hand to glove. “I’m not asking her to marry him. We’re just hanging out.”
“It’s your funeral.”
“Why?” he asked again. “Does she have some sort of problem with ... Hey, Mal.”
“Hey.” He caught the ball Del tossed him, winged it back. “How’s it going?” he said to Laurel.
“We’re going to find out.”
“Ball game, free food.” Mal, in worn jeans, a white tee, and dark sunglasses used the bat he’d brought with him to pop up a fungo. “Good deal. My mother’s hooked up with your Mrs. Grady and some of them.” He laid the bat on his shoulder. “So, what’s the lineup?”
“I’ve got you on third, batting cleanup.”
“That’ll work.”
“Laurel’s in right field, leading off. Her fielding’s crap, but she’s got a good bat.”
“My fielding is not crap.” She hit Del with the glove. “Keep it up and you’re not going to have any problem winning that bet, Brown.”
When she stalked off, Mal took an easy, testing swing. “What bet?”
Laurel strode straight up to Mac. “I want to switch with you. I want to play on Jack’s team.”
“Baseball slut. Okay by me, but you’d better tell Jack.”
She walked over to where Jack sat on the ground writing his lineup. “I switched with Mac. I’m on your team.”
“Trading the redhead for the blonde. Okay, let me figure ... You’re right field, leading off.”
Son of a bitch. Did he and Del have telepathy? Laurel narrowed her eyes. “Why right field?”
He flicked her a glance, and she saw him reconsider his response. “You’ve got a strong arm.”
She pointed at him. “Good answer.”
“How come you ... ? Hey. Hey, is that Mal? Del hooked Mal?” Jack bared his teeth. “So that’s the way he wants to play the game.”
“Let’s kick his ass.”
Jack rose to slap palms with Laurel. “I won the flip. We’re home team. Let’s take the field.”
She did just fine at right field. And not just because no one hit a ball in her direction, but because she was prepared.
Once they’d bagged three outs, she switched her glove for a bat and faced down Del on the mound.
He winked at her. She snarled back. Then swung hard at thin air as she mistimed the ball. He tried to fool her with a pitch that hung low and outside, but she held her ground. She caught the third with enough meat on the bat for a solid base hit. When she held up at first, she tossed her batting helmet aside.
“Del called Mal in to balance things out for you.”
“What?” Beside the bag, Parker straightened out of her waiting crouch. “Are you kidding me? Like some sort of pity date?”
“That, and Mal’s good at the game. I thought you’d want to know”
“Damn right.” Parker sent a scorching look toward the mound as Del wound up for the pitch. “He’s so going to pay.”
By the fourth inning Del had them five to three. He’d been right about Malcolm, Laurel had to admit. Serious skills. He held second now on a strong leadoff double, and the strikeout behind him brought Del to the plate. Cheers and calls went up from team-mates and the audience that had gathered. Laurel watched Del set, and Jack shake off the first suggestion from the twelve-year-old catcher.
He went with a fastball. Or she thought it was, as it looked fast to her. It looked even faster when Del’s bat smacked it and the ball winged into the air. In her direction.
“Shit. Oh, shit.”
She heard someone yelling—maybe it was her—as she raced back to meet the path of the ball, but her heart pounded so hard in her ears she couldn’t tell.
She lifted her glove and prayed.
When the ball slapped into it, no one was more surprised than she was. She shot up ball and glove to acknowledge the cheers from the crowd. And saw Mal had already tagged up and was charging third. She threw the ball to Emma’s waving hands. Her throw, while hard and fairly true, hit Emma’s glove one wild slide too late.
Jubilation to disgust, she thoug
ht, in less than five seconds.
Baseball sucked.
“Good catch, Laurel.”
“Don’t patronize me, Jack,” she muttered when they got out of the inning with Mal stranded on third.
“Who’s patronizing? Del creamed that ball. If you hadn’t caught it, we’d be behind a couple more runs. We held them off.” He gave her a brotherly punch on the shoulder.
“It was a good catch.” She nodded in satisfaction. Maybe baseball didn’t suck after all.
It sucked again when they lost seven to four, but she had the satisfaction of knowing her fielding hadn’t been crap.
“You did good out there.” Del tossed her a canned soft drink. “Two singles and an RBI. Plus you robbed me of a potential two-run homer.”
“You shouldn’t have said my fielding was crap.”
“It usually is.” He flicked the bill of her cap, in the same sort of brotherly gesture as Jack’s arm punch. Laurel tossed the cap aside, grabbed a handful of Del’s shirt.
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
She yanked him down for a good strong kiss, amused when the gesture brought on a smattering of applause by those who’d dropped down on the blanket or chairs.
“No, I remembered that.” Del linked his arms casually around her waist. “But thanks for the heads-up.”
“Well, well, isn’t this a surprise.” Hillary Babcock, one of Mrs. Grady’s friends, beamed at Del and Laurel. “I had no idea this was going on! Maureen, you don’t tell me anything!”
“What I don’t tell you, you find out.”
“But this is big. I’ve always thought of the two of you as the next thing to brother and sister, and here you are, getting all romantic.”
“Laurel fielded a long fly.” Del shifted to drape his arm around Laurel’s shoulders. His hand rubbed lightly at her biceps as if to soothe away a mild irritation. “She gets a reward.”
Hillary laughed. “Next time, sign me up! But really, how long has this been going on? Look at all of you.” She beamed the smile again, and her eyes got a little teary. “It seems like five minutes ago you four girls and Del were all running around this park with the rest of the kids, now you’re all grown-up. All paired up, too! Oh, Maureen, you should talk these girls into a triple wedding.Wouldn’t that be something special?”
“Hilly, the boy just kissed the girl. That doesn’t mean they’re picking out the china pattern. Why don’t you get the potato salad out of the cooler over there.”
“Why, sure. Kay, this must be your boy Malcolm. All grown-up, too! And you’re with Parker. Isn’t that nice?”
Mal watched Parker’s face as he answered. “She pulled her weight on line drives and pop flies, but I haven’t even kissed the girl. Yet.”
“Mal’s not actually with—”
One searing stare from his sister in Del’s direction stopped his explanation. Deliberately, Parker stepped forward.Aware they were directly in Del’s eyeline, she pressed her body to Mal’s, linked her arms behind his neck, and fixed her mouth to his in a long, slow, sumptuous kiss.
She pulled back, rubbed her lips together. “That ought to do it.” Mal caged her hips in his hands. “I think we should play a doubleheader.”
She spared Mal the slightest smile, flicked a cool glance at Del, then stepped over to help unpack a hamper.
“What was that?” Del demanded as he crouched down beside her. “What the hell was that?”
“What? Oh, that? Just trying to keep things nice and balanced. Wasn’t that the idea, big brother?”
“For God’s sake, Parker, I just ... He’s a friend of mine, so why not ask him along? Plus you said how you were the only one without a date.”
“And it was so nice of you to arrange one for me, without even asking if I’d like you to.” She jabbed him with her finger as he started to speak. “You’d better back out of my personal business, or I’ll sleep with him just to make your life hell.”
He paled, visibly. “You would not.”
“Don’t test me, Delaney.” She jabbed him again. “Don’t test me.”
“Time for a walk.” Laurel reached down to tug on Del’s arm. “No. Really time for a walk. Some things even you can’t talk your way out of,” she muttered to him as she dragged him away.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s pissed at you, of course. I told you she would be.”
He skirted the path of a flying Frisbee, then stopped. “She wouldn’t be if you hadn’t told her. Why did you do that?”
“Because she’s my friend, and I was pissed at you before she was. I’d have told her even if I hadn’t been pissed at you, but that was a secondary factor. You can’t pull a date for her out of your hat without telling her, Del, or I have to.”
“Another rule. Maybe she should send me a damn memo.” She gave the hand she held an impatient shake. “You should know better.”
“I should know better? She’s the one who grabbed him and kissed him like that, in front of everybody.”
“Yes, she should’ve dragged him off to the bushes and done it in private, but you know Parker. She’s brazen.”
“You think it’s funny?” He stopped, stared her down. “She made a move on him in public, she’s really steamed at me, plus now I have to talk to Mal. It’s not funny.”
“No. No, you don’t have to talk to Mal. Leave it alone, Mr. Fix-It.They’re grown-ups.”
“You have your rules, I have mine.”
“Sometimes I could just ...” She turned away, turned back. “How many guys did you ‘talk to’ and/or warn off when it was me?”
He slid his hands into his pockets. “The past is the past.”
“You should probably have a talk with yourself.”
“Believe me, I have been. It doesn’t seem to do any good. I’ve got a taste for you now.”
“A taste for me?”
“Yeah. You know about tastes, and how some of them are just irresistible. That’s you.”
She let out a half sigh, then framed his face with her hands. “Semi-redeemed. Let’s walk the long way around. We’ll work up an appetite.”
WITHIN FIFTEEN MINUTES, LAUREL DECIDED THAT BETWEEN THE two of them they knew too many people.A simple walk around the park became a meet-and-greet, with the added slightly sticky layer of curiosity from those seeing them as a couple for the first time. She felt the speculation buzzing around her ears like mosquitoes.
“At least Mrs. Babcock came right out and asked.”
Del glanced over as they wound their way back. “Asked what?”
“‘What’s going on with them? Are they dating? Are they sleeping together? What’s Delaney Brown doing with Laurel McBane? When did that happen? What’s going on with them?’ I feel like I should’ve written up a mission statement.”
“People like to know what’s going on with other people, especially if there’s any hint or possibility of sex or scandal.”
“I can feel the eyebrows wiggling behind my back.” As if to dislodge them, she rolled her shoulders. “That doesn’t bother you at all?”
“Why would it? In fact, let’s give them something to wiggle about.”
He spun her around, locked her into a just-short-of-steamy kiss. “There. Questions answered. Let’s get some of that potato salad.”
It was easier for him, she decided, because he was easier with people. Added to it, he was Delaney Brown of the Connecticut Browns, and that meant something in Greenwich. She didn’t think of him that way—often—and she suspected he only thought of himself that way when it was useful. But others did.
He had the name, the position, the wealth. Their first real public outing as a couple served to remind her he was more than her childhood friend and her potential lover.
Sex and scandal, she thought. Well, there had been both in her family, hadn’t there? She supposed some people would remember and have that to chew over, and the same ones would speculate over cocktails and country club tennis if she set her sig
hts on Del for that name, position, and wealth.
It didn’t bother her overmuch, and she wouldn’t let it bother her, she thought. Unless it reflected on him or Parker.
“Long thoughts.” Mac came over and gave her an elbow nudge. “Long thoughts aren’t allowed on national holidays.”
“Not all that long.” But since she wondered ... “Do you ever wonder what you and I are doing here?”
Mac licked icing off her fingers. “In a Zen way?”
“No, that’s entirely too long a thought. You and me in particular. The public school kids with crappy families and a bumpy childhood.”
“Mine was bumpier.”
“Yes, you win that prize.”
“Yay” For a moment, Mac studied her plastic cup of lemonade. “Speaking of bumps, Linda got back yesterday.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
Mac shrugged. “It’s not such a deal for me anymore. Plus, she’s living in New York with the new husband, and still currently pissed at me. It’s a nice distance.”
“May it continue.”
“Doesn’t matter so much, because I really did win the prize.” She looked over at Carter while he talked to a couple of his students who’d found him in the crowd.
“He is pretty great,” Laurel agreed. “Did we ever have any teachers that cute?”
“Mr. Zimmerman, U.S. History. He was cute.”
“Oh yeah, the Zim Man.Very cute, but gay.”
Green eyes wide, Mac lowered her cup. “He was gay?”
“Definitely. You must’ve been doing one of your stints at the Academy when that hit.”
“I missed a lot of the good stuff bouncing back and forth.Well, gay or straight, he starred in several of my adolescent dreams. Here’s to the Zim Man.”
“To the Zim Man,” Laurel echoed and tapped her can to Mac’s cup.
“Anyway,” Mac continued, “you and me.”
“There’s Emma. Solid family. They’re legion, but rock solid. Certainly privileged. Then Parker. The Browns are Greenwich. Then there’s you. Crazy mother, feckless father. Never knowing if you’re going to be up or down. Then there’s me, with my father and his little problem with the IRS and his mistress. Oops, we’re very nearly broke and nobody’s talking to anybody. We barely kept the house, and my mother’s more pissed about having to let the staff go than the mistress. Strange times.”