by Alexis Anne
I probably deserved the big brother treatment considering how many times I’d given it over the years.
Karma, man. Karma.
I knew what I wanted from my sister’s dates when I was busy scaring the piss out of them, so I was pretty sure I knew what Wes wanted to hear right now.
Respect, reassurance, and insurance.
“We kissed last week and I’m interested in pursuing a relationship with her. You know me, you know when I’m serious, I’m serious. But if you ever feel like I’ve stepped out of line, you have my full permission to put me where I belong.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I better not have to entertain that idea.”
“You won’t. But that being said I have a question.”
His jaw ticked and even though he was being a pain in my ass, I appreciated that he cared so much about Zoe. “You get one question, but don’t make this a habit.”
“Who hurt her?”
Wes turned white as a ghost. “I don’t know. How do you know that?”
“I can tell. Why don’t you know?”
He studied me carefully, probably weighing whether it would be better to kick my ass now instead of later. Then he sighed. “Look, Zoe is a demon one minute and a firecracker the next. She’s fun to be around, but there is one thing she does not do for anyone.”
“What’s that?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Talk about life before Tampa.” Then he stepped into me, jabbing his finger into my chest. “I’ve been watching for a long fucking time, Cassidy. I know you like her and I appreciate that you haven’t pushed your way into her life. Keep it that way.”
I stepped back and held up my hands. “I just wanted to help. I care about her.”
“You can care all you want,” he said, grabbing his duffle bag again, “just don’t hurt her.”
If there is one thing about having a Cuban mother I could count on, it was that her mom-senses would always somehow know when my mind was on a girl. I was on my way from the stadium in St. Pete to Eve’s house on Davis Islands for Max’s fifth birthday party when my phone started ringing through the speakers of my pickup truck.
“Hey Mama.”
“Hello baby boy.” She always called us baby boy or baby girl when she was in full-on momma mode.
Probably where I got my tendency to papa bear my teammates.
Funny how that hadn’t occurred to me until just now.
“How can I help you on this fine day?”
I heard shuffling and banging. She was probably in the kitchen cooking—her favorite place to be. “I watched your game. Don’t you dare hurt poor Chris.”
Even my mother was worried about my throw into home plate. “Chris is fine. It’s his job to duck. How are you?”
“Fine, fine. I was just watching the game and had you on my mind.”
Meaning her senses were tingling. “And what about me has you worried today?”
“Oh stop. I’m your mother. I worry about you all the time. All of you.”
We were quite the herd to worry about. That was why I was glad she decided to move to the Keys and enjoy her well-deserved retirement.
“I’m on my way to the Spencer’s for their daughter’s birthday party.” Maybe if I babbled she’d eventually get to whatever it was she really wanted to talk about.
“Please tell me you have a gift.”
I glanced at the very sparkly silver present sitting in my backseat. “Of course, Mama. It’s a mermaid tail for the pool.”
She chuckled. “You always loved spoiling your sisters. I’m glad you’ve found some nice children to spoil in Tampa.”
The truth was, I didn’t know where I’d be without the Spencers. I enjoyed working with Eve and helping out with the fans any time she needed. She was great. But it was her entire family that I really loved. Her husband Jake was a good guy and their daughters were little spitfires. Dinners at their house reminded me of home in a city that sometimes felt like one great big giant empty hole to me.
Living with Seth wasn’t exactly a fulfilling existence. Morning mockings and an inability to do the dishes just made me feel like I was still in college. And I hadn’t been in college in a long damn time.
“How’s Belle?” I asked. My youngest sister was in her last semester of college.
Silence.
Ah ha . . . so today’s call was about that.
“She’s still planning on continuing to work for Sanderson Accounting.”
Dammit all. My sister was so stubborn. Her internship with these jerks had turned into a part-time job until graduation. Sounds great on the surface but they were the kind of company that demanded thirty hours for twenty hours of work. Their full-time accountants worked round the clock for their high-end clients.
And if I really believed Belle wanted to be an accountant for the rest of her life I might be happy she’d found an established company like this to launch her career.
But Belle was a writer. Always had been, always would be. Working eighty stressful hours a week for a demanding company wasn’t exactly going to help her write her first book. There were other options out there that would give her more flexibility.
“She still coming out with Jack in two weeks?” My oldest brother’s hockey team was coming to Tampa to play a scrimmage game with the Bolts.
“She is.”
“I’ll talk to her again,” I sighed. The entire family was on the same page. Well, everyone except Belle.
“It won’t do any good. She’s so stubborn. She’ll never give in at this point, not even if the best job offer in the world was handed to her.”
I pulled up along the curb in the first available slot outside that just so happened to be in front of Zoe and June’s house. “She can be stubborn but so can I. I’ll talk to her and I’ll keep talking to her until she listens. Hell, I’ll hire her as my personal accountant if I have to.”
This time it was my mother who sighed. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem. You’ve always taken care of her.”
And that was a bad thing? I was her older brother. It was what I was supposed to do. “Yeah, well, she better get used to it. I’m not stopping.”
I caught sight of Zoe in the open garage. She moved to a refrigerator and pulled out a case of soda. I probably should have noticed what brand she was grabbing or how her hair was tied up, but I didn’t. All I could see were her gorgeous tan legs on display.
Athletic shorts were a beautiful thing.
“Maybe try a less aggressive approach this time? Maybe your sister will respond to a plea instead of a demand.”
“Yeah sure.” I wasn’t really listening to my mother any longer because damn. Zoe leaned over to fish something out of a bucket before disappearing back inside her house.
My brain was broken.
“Are you okay, Erik? You sound . . . different.”
I was different. I had been ever since Zoe kissed me. Whoever I was before that, he was gone. That man had waited two years while Zoe avoided him.
There would be no more waiting. I couldn’t if I tried.
“I’m fine, Mama.”
“Oh . . . are you at the party?”
“Just pulled up.” I turned off the engine and scooped the present out of the back.
“And when you pulled up, did there happen to be a woman who caught your eye?”
I grabbed my phone out of the cradle and hit the button just to be sure I wasn’t on some sort of secret video call I didn’t know about. “Why would you ask that?”
“I just told you. You sound different. You sound . . . distracted. In a good way.”
And this was why I was absolutely certain my mother had some sort of psychic ability. She always knew stuff like this. I never once was able to sneak a girl into my room in high school, not that I tried more than a couple of times. What was the point? She always knew.
“I should go, Ma. Unicorns and mermaids are waiting.”
She laughed. “Have fun and be nice to this woman. I lo
ok forward to meeting her.”
6
Zoe
Unicorns and Other Magical Things
“Why are you frowning?” June, asked under her breath.
“Thinking.” It wasn’t a lie. I was definitely thinking.
“Well stop. You’re going to freak out the kids.”
My frown must be epic to get a comment like that. A dozen kids ran back and forth from our house to the house next door through the clubhouse slide situated over the fence. I usually loved being taken in by the Daniels sisters and their magical families, but on party days I wanted to throw our friendship out the window in favor of hiding in the deepest, darkest cave I could find.
Because good god could Erik be any hotter? I needed six months before seeing him again. Instead I got seven days.
And now here he stood a mere ten yards away, manning the water balloon table. Water balloons that were supposed to be for the kids, mind you. But every time they lost interest, Erik somehow managed to lob a few at his teammates.
Boyish charm. That’s what my current heroine, Jessica, would say about him.
“He’s so good with the kids,” June giggled, following my line of sight right to the man in question.
“Are you referring to the ballplayers or the actual children?”
“Both. They call him Bear in the locker room. Like Father Bear. He mentors all of them. Plus he’s fucking scary when he’s pissed off. You know, like a bear.” She held up her hands like claws and growled.
And that right there was the bucket of cold water I needed. Boyish charm and sweet demeanor were great but there was no way I was going anywhere near a guy with anger issues.
Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt.
I had a plan. Own up to the kiss. It was a good kiss. Kisses happen from time to time but they’re a one-time thing. I could appreciate it, even thank him for the good time, and go back to focusing on all the crazy and important things happening in my life right now.
None of which included being distracted by biceps and dimples.
I shrugged off June’s comment right before getting plowed into by a ferocious five-year-old bundle. I swept Max up into my arms and popped her on my hip as if she were still the toddler I first nannied when I moved to town.
“Base, base, base!” she shrieked at the pack of little girls charging our way with water balloons in each hand.
A sliver of dread slid down my spine. “Oh no. Don’t you dare!”
Too late. They released all the water balloons on us at once. I threw my arm up over my eyes, expecting a second round but instead the girls’ shrieks pierced the air as they ran away. When I peeked out I saw Erik lobbing balloons at the girls as they ran back to Eve’s yard.
“Sorry Zoe,” Max mumbled. “I didn’t mean to get you all wet.”
I wasn’t wet. Oh no. I was drenched from head to toe. But it was a pool party so it wasn’t unexpected. That was why I was wearing a lightweight sport top and shorts over my bathing suit. In this intense Florida heat I’d be dry in ten minutes. Tops.
“It’s okay, baby girl.” I set her down and patted the top of her head. “Go have fun.”
She grinned up at me.
“Here,” Erik chuckled, handing Max a bucket of water balloons. “Hit ‘em when they aren’t looking.”
Her grin widened as she took the bucket. “Thanks Uncle Erik!”
He laughed as she took off, then he handed me a towel. “She’s such a steamroller.”
“You have no idea,” June laughed. “I’m like a puddle of mush when she gets going. I don’t know if that makes me the perfect aunt or the worst.”
“You’re the aunt,” I said. “You get to be all mushy and fun. It’s my job to lay down the law.” Although it wasn’t really my job much anymore. I still stepped in to help when they needed a hand and of course June and I both loved having the girls over for babysitting nights. I guess in a way I was more of an aunt than their nanny.
“How are you doing, Erik? That ankle still giving you trouble?” June asked.
He held out his foot and rolled it in a circle. “Good as new.”
“What happened?” I asked before I thought about the fact that I was intentionally inserting myself into the conversation.
His eyes skipped to mine and the faintest smile turned up the corner of his gorgeous mouth.
And yep, my heart beat a little faster.
“Bad slide into third base today. I was more worried about the stupid third baseman than my ankle.” He shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders bunching in a way that made my lady bits roar to life.
Down girl.
I could easily pick out the Mantas players in the crowd. They were the built guys with the most gorgeous arms I’d ever seen in my life. But Erik was more beautiful than all of them put together. When he flexed I didn’t just admire his strength. The picture of his body moving against mine always popped into my head. It was involuntary and I seemed to have no control over the mental images whatsoever. Normally this ability made me a good writer, but in real life it made me a nervous wreck.
I cleared my throat. “Well, you and Chow have been friends since Little League.” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing all too late how revealing that little bit of information was.
I saw both Erik and June’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve been listening,” she chuckled. “Can you believe this girl had never even watched a game when she moved here?”
Baseball wasn’t on my dad’s list of interests and my mother didn’t care for sports at all. There weren’t many sports of any kind in my life before Eve hired me, something that was a constant state of amazement to her and Jake. Everyone in their world had something to do with baseball. No matter where I turned in this house, someone was either working in baseball or married to someone who was.
Erik shifted on his feet, almost as if he were nervous.
Which made me nervous.
I tried to shake it off. “Yeah, well, you guys kind of make it fun,” I shrugged.
No one bought my answer.
“C’mon, this is the third time you’ve dropped stats on me in the last month.” June punched my arm. “Admit it . . . you’ve fallen in love with baseball.” She waited for my answer with the most hopeful expression her face.
And while I really wanted to deny it just so they couldn’t suck me any further into their world, I knew there was no way I could lie. “Fine. I like it.”
“No,” she chided, “You love it.” She slipped onto the counter, leaning forward. “Is it the hotties like this guy?” She jerked her thumb over at Erik, “Or do you have a secret competitive side we don’t know about?”
Oh, if she only knew. Writers were knockdown, drag-out competitive. It just wasn’t as obvious. “Neither.”
Erik stilled beside me while June frowned in confusion. “Well then what is it?”
How did I explain that the game fascinated me? That the decades of stats and information, combined with the passion entire families felt for their teams did something strange to my insides? Made me feel apart of something greater for the first time in my life? Then it occurred to me . . . maybe these were the people I didn’t need to explain it to. They already knew.
“It’s different than other sports. There’s so much history. I could get lost in the information for weeks and there’d still be a lifetime more to learn.” I snuck a glance at Erik to see if he thought I was nuts, but his face was blank as he stared at me with so much intensity it almost knocked the wind out of me. “I don’t know . . . most of you have spent your whole lives playing the game. It’s not part of your life, it is your life. I want a little bit of that, too.” A blush crept all the way up my chest until it burned my cheeks. I was the kind of person who embarrassed easily and I hated that it was always on display for everyone to see.
It would be nice to keep some things to myself from time to time.
June placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me to her for a hug.
“You’re part of it. Period. As much as you want.”
I let her hug me for a few seconds before I stepped back. Hugs always made me uncomfortable. How long were you supposed to embrace? Was I supposed to pat her back? Would squeezing be too much? It was so complicated and not a dance I was familiar with.
At all.
So while I tried really hard to understand this affectionate social convention, I honestly sucked at it. “Anyway, yeah. I’ve taken a liking to the sport and am enjoying it immensely.”
Luckily I was saved from any further sentimentalization by Roman.
“June! I need your help!” her husband called. Roman, was standing on the other side of the porch with the enormous unicorn birthday cake.
“Aunt duty calls!” she cooed, leaping off the counter and bounding over to her husband.
Leaving me alone with Erik.
“That’s really nice. What you said?” Erik cleared his throat. “About the game, I mean. I think you did a really wonderful job of capturing exactly what it means to all of us.” He shrugged his wide, muscular shoulders and I noticed for the second time that afternoon that there didn’t seem to be a shirt in creation that was loose on his biceps.
My mouth watered.
Then he glanced up and into my eyes. I swear my heart stopped beating all together and this strange fluttering sensation shivered over my skin. “It’s like you’re a brilliant writer or something.”
That compliment did things to me. But it wasn’t the words he used. It was the genuine admiration in his voice . . . in his eyes as they held my gaze.
I swallowed. “Thank you.”
“I could never do what you do.”
“And I could never do what you do.”
For some reason his eyes brightened and a cocky little smile lit up his face. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”
How had we suddenly slipped into flirting? “A ballplayer and a writer?”
He nodded. “You’re good at what you do and I’m good at what I do. And very few people will ever do either.”
Before I could figure out how to respond to that, a tiny fireball in the form of my other former charge, Sam, came flying across the backyard. “Cake time!” she howled as if birthday cake were the single most exciting thing to ever happen in her life.