by Various
“And yet, you want me to prove it.”
She stopped. “Well, yes.” She eyed him sincerely as he kept coming and stood looming over her. “I….” Oh My God, was he going to make her beg him for sex? “I’m…ready when you are,” she said primly, feeling like a damn fool but unwilling to back down.
“Woman,” he vowed, pulling her against him, “I was born ready.”
She laughed right in his face then, and he responded with a dazzling smile. He stepped back and ordered her, “Pack a bag. You won’t be home for a while.”
“What?”
“Three and a half months I’ve waited to get you into my bed. I’m not sure how fast I’m going to be letting you out. Now, please. You have five minutes to pack up any feminine accoutrements you may desire, and if you own a bikini, you may want to toss that in as well. My mother is waiting.”
“For me in a bikini?”
Hale looked a tad exasperated that he had to explain. “My mother has worked herself into a state of anxiety over the meal she is preparing. She hasn’t talked about anything else but you since I spilled the beans. So, please. I can’t begin to ‘prove it’ until we get through introductions and dinner with my mother. The bikini is for my benefit. Later. Much later. I have a beautiful swimming pool and a Jacuzzi.”
“Oh Lord,” she pleaded.
“What?”
“I’m just remembering your mother lives with you.”
“And?”
Genevra shook her hands rapidly. “Well, I know we aren’t teenagers or anything.” She squeezed her eyes together. “But…are we just going to say goodnight after dinner and walk down the hall together to your room? In front of your mother?” Her voice rose toward hysteria.
Hale came forward and gently grasped both her arms, bending his legs to look her eye to eye. His soothing voice and demeanor were all back in place. “Genevra, my love. My mother has her own wing of the house. She will certainly be the one to say goodnight first and waltz one hundred and fifty feet in the opposite direction from my room.”
“One hundred and fifty feet?” she asked numbly.
“Aside from that, you may as well know that my mother seems to be as eager as you are for me to ‘prove it.’”
“She is?”
“Apparently she believes the rumors.”
Genevra blinked wide-eyed. “Well then. I’ll be ready in five,” she agreed and hurried up the stairs.
***
Brooks sped away from Lolly’s home, banking curves and shooting down straightaways like he was Tony Stuart in the Daytona 500. And he was enjoying it too, right up until the moment Lolly said, “Wow. Vance would be proud of you.”
“What do you mean by that?” he said, just before he caught air over a sneaky bump on a downhill stretch. And by the time he landed, he knew. He was the good cop, damn it. And that thought had him hitting the brakes, moving their speed down to a much saner, if not completely legal, number.
Lolly reached over and rubbed the length of his arm as he bemoaned the joy ride. Good cop had to be an example for the fine citizens of Henderson. Good cop was a pansy-ass sucker, he thought, and sometimes he just wanted to kick good cop’s ass.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Lolly apologized. “That was fun. You were having fun, and I took it away from you. I’m sorry.” She leaned over and kissed his bicep. Which, he admitted to himself, was almost worth having her be able to read him so well.
Of course, that was what had brought her to his attention in the first place all those years ago. Lolly DuVal felt his pain, his anxiety, and his moods better than any other person on the planet. And she had no idea what that meant to him. His mother, whom he loved dearly, could not come close. His dad was forever oblivious. Lewis, the boy wonder of the technology age, didn’t have a clue. Even Vance and Duncan, with all the time they had spent together over the last many years, didn’t read him as well as Lolly did. Lolly had always been his own Harry-the-bartender.
He laughed at the thought, reaching out to rub her thigh lightly, letting her know he was okay. “I thought we’d head to the Club for dinner.”
Lolly turned toward him so fast he had to glance her way and almost choked on the realization that she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. Then he looked down and noticed he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.
“I would love to go to the Club any other night, Brooks, truly I would,” she pleaded. “But with all the running I’ve done this week, I am dying for a big, fat, greasy cheeseburger at The Tavern. Attila the Hun, a.k.a. Vance the Bossy, ran me ragged. He took four pounds of flesh off my hide and I’m aiming to get them back.”
Brooks cruised to a stop at the first red light entering town. He leaned over, pulled Lolly to him, and kissed her lips. “Your wish is my command,” he said, before settling back into his seat and driving on.
“Well,” Lolly stuttered, her eyes gone wide. “This date is starting off rather well.”
Brooks laughed. “I agree.”
“Except for that whole thing with my mom.”
“What do you mean? I enjoyed talking to your mom.”
“No, I mean her throwing us out so Mr. Mystery wouldn’t find out she has a grown daughter.”
Brooks hit the break a little harder than he’d planned, throwing them both forward. “Okay. Seat belts,” he ordered. And once they were secured he said, “Lolly, that is not the reason she is keeping this affair secret.”
“Affair?” she shouted. “Do you think she’s seeing a married man? That would explain everything, but oh…oh, oh, oh, this is going to be so bad when word gets out.” She shuddered. “I’m going to have to move back to Raleigh.”
She didn’t seem to appreciate his laughter, but he couldn’t help it. “Lolly. Your mother is not dating a married man.”
“How do you know? It makes perfect sense why she’d claim she wanted to savor it. Hell, she won’t get a moment’s peace when this sordid story breaks. And neither will I.”
Brooks grabbed up one of Lolly’s floundering hands and brought it to his lips, scraping his teeth along her fingers and following up with his tongue. From the quiet that ensued, he was pretty sure he had her attention. “Trust me,” he whispered into her palm as he continued to drive toward The Tavern with one hand. “All is well.”
Chapter Thirteen
Brooks enjoyed watching Lolly try to get her fists around The Tavern’s Big Foot Burger. Getting her mouth around it was something else altogether. Eventually she gave up and used a knife and fork, which Brooks thought was a shame. Some foods were meant to be eaten with your bare hands.
His bare hands were aching to get ahold of something just as juicy and satisfying after he’d touched her thigh in the car. And now, sitting here facing Lolly in the back corner booth, chosen specifically because he’d know every third person who walked into this place on a Friday night, he was tempted to swing himself around the table and plant his ass on her side and make it even more difficult for her to finish that burger.
Yep, he’d swing her right into his lap, press them both into the corner, and play with her hair and other particulars while she ate. It had not slipped his notice that she wore her hair down. For him. Dark and full, it had a way of cascading down over her shoulders and ending with a little curl right at the most interesting place. He licked his lips, imagining running his hands up into her hair while kissing her, then moving his tongue and teeth down to her chin…to her slender neck…to her shoulders…her collar bone…and then dipping his tongue right down between—
Lolly’s words ‘come clean about what happened with Vance’ pulled at Brooks’ attention.”
What? “Sorry, what did you say?”
She wiped her mouth with a third paper napkin and dragged a french fry through a dainty pile of ketchup while she spoke. Her demeanor was relaxed and unguarded but her words caused his spine to straighten.
“You know we’ve spent quite a bit of time together this week and….”
Way too much time.
“He told me you were drafted by the Orioles’ organization when you graduated from college.”
“Oh! Okay. Yeah. Well, that’s pretty much common knowledge.”
“Yes, but he told me why you didn’t sign.”
He tensed. “There were a lot of factors that went into my decision.”
“And Vance said as much. But he believes the real reason you stayed behind was because he didn’t get drafted.”
Brooks opened his mouth to speak but could conjure no words. He fisted his hands absently on the table top and swished his thumb over his middle fingers.
“I can’t believe you would do that for him. Not follow your dream.”
Brooks sat back and sighed. “If I thought that I had a good chance of getting to the Majors in a reasonable amount of time, I would have signed.”
“If Vance had also been drafted, would you have signed?”
Yes. “Probably.”
“So it’s true. You stayed for Vance.”
“It’s true that Vance was a factor in my decision. But I want you to be very clear on one thing. I did not stay behind. I chose to live in Henderson. To pursue a life and career in my hometown.”
“Because of Vance?”
He eyed her patiently. If it had been anybody else, he would have brushed them off. But this was Lolly. Lolly was asking him. Lolly wanted to understand. And if there was anyone who could, he figured it was her. So he chose his words carefully and told her the truth.
“If Vance had been drafted, then the two of us could have shared the experience of the Minor Leagues. Not on the same team, but we would have been able to commiserate. It would have been easier to give up three, four, maybe even five years to pursue a dream that would likely have ended without throwing one pitch in a Major ballpark.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know what?” He grabbed one of her fries.
“That you wouldn’t make it to the Major League.”
“Of course, I didn’t know for sure. But it was an educated guess. I was a very good college pitcher. Not a great college pitcher. We won the College World Series because of the energy our team created together. Those specific guys, at that specific time.” He broke into a big grin remembering. “I can’t really describe it. But we all felt it. We could not lose.”
Lolly’s regard held such appreciation and joy. It was as if she could feel what he was feeling, and it unlocked him.
“I was given this amazing gift twice in my life, Lolly. Twice I was on a team where we…we loved one another. Where we didn’t work at baseball, we played the game. We played with heart and enthusiasm and we played for each other as well as ourselves. We won and won and won and shared in something that most people will never have the opportunity to even glimpse. Never have the chance to experience. And Vance, Vance shared that experience with me both times.
“If I had felt in my gut that I had a shot at the Majors, I would have taken it. But statistics and my own personal understanding of the game and my abilities indicated otherwise. I was given the choice of relishing my baseball experiences and working to pave the way for more kids to do the same, or taking the chance of turning my love of the game into work and frustration and possibly have all the shine tarnish. I’d had a good long run and I was content. I decided it was time to move on.”
Lolly’s lips parted for a moment, and then a grin blossomed forth in a most becoming way. As did the triumphant feeling in his chest as she reached across the table and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “That’s the best sports story I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, now.” He swallowed, falling head over heels. He brought her hands up first to his lowered forehead and then to his lips, forcing himself to look into her sapphire eyes. The grown-up Lolly did not disappoint, and his head agreed right then and there with what his gut had told him all those years ago.
Laura Leigh DuVal was the girl for him.
“So,” he said as he drifted his tongue across her knuckles. “Anything else you need to come clean about?”
Her grin began fading by degrees. Her fingers twitchy in his grasp.
Fucking A.
“It was a rhetorical question, for Christ’s sake. Lolly?”
She pulled her hands from his and pushed her plate away, reaching for her water. “Well, I need to tell you why Vance spanked me this morning.”
“Spanked you?” Brooks said, feeling his head go slightly dizzy as he folded both arms over his chest. “Your text said he smacked you on the ass.”
Lolly blinked. “There’s a difference?”
“Right now my mind has conjured up two very different pictures. One where he swatted you on your derriere in appreciation of a good run. The other where you are turned over his knee.”
“Yeah. This was pretty much the latter.”
He held his tongue but couldn’t stop himself from sucking in a deep breath.
“Now, try to understand,” she explained slowly, like he was someone who rode the short bus. “Remember, this is Vance. Who is learning how to be friends with a girl. All week he’s vacillated between being my coach with a lot of very bossy yelling and taunting, and trying to get me in bed with outrageous flirting and inappropriate comments. Now on Monday and Tuesday, I was able to nip all this in the bud and gently explain when and why he went off base. On Wednesday and Thursday, he seemed to be getting it, and his comments and behavior were more appropriate—for the most part. I was happy about that because my body was starting to wear down trying to keep up with him on the run. I didn’t have the energy to get in his face about every little thing. But today,” she insisted, “today I snapped.”
“You snapped.”
“Yes. I snapped!” she said, throwing her arms wide and falling back in her seat. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I was hot, I was tired, I was in pain from this brutal week of training that I didn’t ask for and I was brain dead from trying to deal with all his yackity-yack-yacking, so when he started in once again about his magic hands and how they could bring me release, I finally told him to put up or shut up.”
“Put up or shut up.”
“Right. And then I threw myself at him and kissed him.”
“You what?”
“And that’s why he literally turned me over his knee and spanked me. Hard.”
“You. Kissed him?”
“Ah-huh.”
“Jesus, Lolly, now I want to spank you!”
She looked at him slyly. “If you spanked me, I’d probably like it.”
“Holy shit,” he groaned into his hands before rubbing them up into his hair. “You did not just say that.”
She had the audacity to shrug. Like he wasn’t furious about her kissing Vance. Like he hadn’t been tamping down incessant jealousy all week because the two of them were spending time together. Not to mention that he was now fully hot and bothered over the very idea of putting his hand on her ass in any form of passion.
“I swear to God, you and Vance are going to be the death of me.”
“Well, I’d feel worse about it if you could name one other woman who has spent ten hours with The Great Seducer and not ended up in his bed. And I only kissed him because he made me insane. It was clearly a case of temporary insanity.”
“It seems very foggy to me. How ’bout the two of you stop all this running around together?”
Lolly gave him a quick grin. “Cute. But it’s already taken care of. I will never, ever run with Vance Evans again. I have made myself clear on that point. Besides,” she said, turning to fumble around in her purse, “we start tennis tomorrow.” She slapped a paperback book on the table. “He has ordered me to read this in its entirety. Tonight.”
Brooks looked down at the book. The Art of Doubles: Winning Tennis Strategies and Drills by Pat Blaskower. “Yeah. That’s not happening,” he growled as he took the book and tucked it under his arm. He hailed the waitress. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
He paid the bill and tugged Loll
y out of the booth. When they reached the parking lot, he stalked straight toward the dumpster and threw the book in.
“Oh, man,” Lolly said, eyes aghast at what he’d done. “There’s going to be hell to pay for this.”
He grabbed her hand and hustled her over to his truck. “Not after the little chat Vance and I are going to have.”
“No, really,” she said as she buckled her seat belt. “He’s ultra-competitive. I mean, I’ve been playing tennis for a long time, but he was using terminology I’d never heard before.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“He’s going to expect me to know the strategies in that book.” Her voice was getting all hushed and shaky.
“Lolly, I’ll take care of it.”
“And when I don’t know them, he’ll make me do laps around the court.” Her voice was on the edge of hysteria.
“Lolly!” Her face snapped toward his. “He’s not your father, and he’s not your damn coach. You’re the one who’s training him, remember? You’re the one in charge. Act like it.”
He turned the key in the ignition and threw the truck into reverse, pulling out of the parking spot.
“Easy for you to say,” she said under her breath.
Brooks sighed as he put the truck in drive and headed out onto the main drag. This was such a bad idea. He’d known it from the beginning, but as Lolly was finding out, Vance was a master in relentless badgery.
“This isn’t about tennis,” he said as he drove them through town.
“Oh, it’s going to be all about tennis tomorrow,” Lolly murmured.
“Well then, remind him. Remind him that it’s not about running, or tennis, or golf, or whatever. It’s about being a good friend. Not treating you like you’re one of the kids he’s coaching or someone he’s trying to lure into bed. But rather establishing trust, offering support, and joking around. A little! A little joking around. If he says something disrespectful or inappropriate, you’ve got to call him on it. It’s the only way he’s going to learn.”
“Of course,” Lolly agreed. “But, still. I mean…if we’re going to play tennis…we may as well try to win.”