Committed Passion

by Bonnie Dee

  The score was tied. This at bat was crucial for the Legends and Jonah said the hitter wasn’t one of their strongest. I felt the tension in the air around me and could almost picture the ball field, though I’d rarely watched a baseball game in my pre-blind life. It was easy to get swept up in the excitement.

  But I was more thrilled with the warm spring breeze ruffling my hair, the taste of hot dog relish on my tongue, the anxious murmur of the fans, and the nervous squeeze of J.D.’s hand on my knee. These were the parts of the day I could experience and appreciate fully, and I reveled in them.

  I’d been told our seats were good, really close behind first base. I actually heard the crack of the bat when it hit the ball. J.D. gave a grunt of approval at the contact and described for me how the ball took wing.

  “Goddamn!” he growled. “The outfielder caught it.”

  “Goddamn!” I echoed helpfully, though I hardly cared which team was ahead. All I could think was how sexy J.D. sounded when he growled, and that the hot dog wasn’t sitting so well on my stomach. I rubbed my belly.

  J.D. was instantly attentive. “You feeling okay?”

  “A little queasy. No big deal. I’m starting to get used to it.”

  “Here.” He put his baseball cap on my head. “Keep the sun off. That might help a little. If you want to leave, we can.”

  “Naw. I’m fine. I’m enjoying this.”

  J.D. bolted up from his seat. “Whoa! The guy on second base just stole third!”

  I clapped and cheered along with everyone else, then settled back in my seat.

  Gina, sitting on my left, leaned over. “Man, baseball games are slow and long. Let me see your ring.” She took hold of my hand. “It really catches the light and sparkles. It’s beautiful. So, have you started making wedding plans already?”

  “God, no. I think we’re a ways out from that. But I imagine it’ll be something simple and small. And I know exactly what I want my dress to look like.”

  “In other words, yeah, you’ve been thinking about it.” She laughed. “What are your parents going to say?”

  “That I should take my time and think this through. Being pregnant kind of changes that. If it was only us, we could stay engaged for a while, but with a kid coming, I feel like we might as well jump in and do it, you know?”

  “You ready?” she asked.

  I took another sip from my water bottle, washing away the hot dog taste. “Yeah, I think I really am. Things might be a little in flux in our lives. I’m still taking classes, and I’m not full time at the radio station. J.D.’s only just started this partnership with Micah. We’re not exactly financially settled, but I think we’re going to be okay.”

  “A lot of people start with a lot less. You’ll do fine.” Gina patted my hand.

  “Apart from the financial stuff, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind J.D. is the right man for me. We get each other. We’re in sync.”

  “I’m hearing a lot of that lately,” Gina said. “When you know you just know.”

  Another roar went up from the crowd, ending our private conversation.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Hell if I know. Somebody hit or caught a ball.”

  “On our side?”

  “Um, yeah. Everyone’s happy not angry. Whoo-hoo.” Gina whistled loud and shrill.

  J.D. grabbed my hand, dragged me up beside him, and hugged me hard. “Boxleitner stole home. We’re ahead now.”

  “Yay!” I grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him, the familiar mouth pressed against mine, the well-memorized angles of his jaw cupped in my hands. He tasted like beer and salt and smelled like a summer day, a little hot and sweaty but clean like cut grass.

  “I love you,” I reminded him. “And I’m having a great time today.”

  “Me too. I mean, I love you too.” He kissed me again to prove it.

  *

  J.D.

  It was a beautiful spring day with a great game unfolding on the green field below. I’d never been happier. As a prisoner of war, I’d doubted I’d ever see the world outside my dark cell again, so every day in sunshine and fresh air was a cause for celebration. And now the love of my life stood right beside me, almost too perfect to be real. Sometimes I woke up shocked to find this was my life.

  Leah’s pale eyes reflecting the light appeared more blue than gray as her face turned up toward mine. So beautiful and vulnerable, she always awoke my protective instinct. But I knew my girl was tough and strong and didn’t ever want to be considered less than a fully capable, confident woman.

  That was understandable. Still, I’d always look out for her, whether she knew it or not. No trailing her around as her bodyguard like I once had, but I couldn’t help but be aware of her needs and jump to help her when she really needed it. A fine line between safeguarding her and being overprotective that I was still learning to walk.

  Standing in that stadium with Leah, my brothers nearby, I felt more a part of a family than I ever had before. Jonah, Micah, and I had bonded over the situation with our dad. We’d put a lot of our shit behind us, and softened and changed due to the women in our lives. Now I was ready to take on even more—a child of my own.

  As little as a year ago, the thought would have been overwhelming. Now I welcomed it. I rested my palm on Leah’s flat stomach. “Still feeling bad?”

  She shook her head. “Better now. But if you wanted to get something a little more substantial to eat after we leave here, I wouldn’t argue.”

  “Anything you want, honey, and if you’re tired, you and I can go now. I’ll take Micah’s car and drive us back to the house.”

  “No. This is too special—all of us together like this. We need to appreciate every moment of today.”

  I folded my jacket to make her stadium seat softer before we sat again. “Listen, I know we planned to talk to your parents almost as soon as we get home, but I’ve been thinking I should stay here a few extra days. With my dad so near the end, I feel like I should stay with him as much as possible. Jonah’s already carried enough of the burden.”

  She felt for my hand. “Of course. You absolutely should. There’s no hurry about telling my parents. I’d stay with you if I could, but I really need to get back to work and school. I’ll ride with Micah and Gina.” She frowned. “I suppose we’ll be returning soon for the funeral.”

  “Don’t feel like you have to,” I assured her. “Your schedule is busy, and it’s a long drive, a real time suck.”

  Her frown deepened. “Nonsense. I want to be with you for something like that. That’s what people in love do, support each other.”

  I suddenly recalled my army buddies, how we’d had each other’s backs no matter what. I’d lost most of my platoon before being captured and had mustered out with my head all twisted up, feeling a gaping hole at the loss of those brothers. But I had family now, my actual brothers, who I’d never really appreciated until recently, and Leah, soon to be my wife and partner for life, not to mention the mother of my kid. I had a wide safety net spread below me, a comforting quilt of love and affection wrapped around me. I wasn’t in a dark hole alone anymore.

  I leaned to kiss her. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  Leah rested her forehead against mine. “And I appreciate you.”

  Behind her, Micah, who was standing on the other side of Gina, made a gagging sound as he glanced over. “I’m going to go into a diabetic coma if you two don’t cut it out.”

  I flipped him off over Leah’s shoulder and resumed kissing my beautiful fiancée.

  Chapter Ten

  Gina

  Two weeks later

  I smoothed Micah’s auburn hair. A few wisps had escaped the slicked-back style he wore that day. “Are you gonna be okay?” I whispered, gauging his mood beneath his half-smiling exterior. I knew my man enough now to understand he was a “tears of a clown” kinda guy. A smile didn’t always mean he was happy. And this was the day of his father’s funeral. It didn’t matter t
hat Jesse Wyatt was an absolute douche. That had to strike a chord deep inside more-sensitive-than-he-let-on Micah.

  He chuckled. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a funeral we all knew was coming. I wasn’t close to the guy. It doesn’t affect me that much. Hell, I’d care more if it were one of your parents. They actually mean something to me.”

  I brushed the front of his striped vest, though there wasn’t a speck on it. “All right. Just checking. But if you need one, I have a packet of tissues in my purse.”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to cry. Men don’t cry.”

  “Okay.”

  I got my jacket and purse from the bed of the motel room where we were staying this time. It had only been about a week and a half since our trip to Lexington for the wedding. I couldn’t really afford more time off work, but there was no way I’d let Micah go without me. As much as he claimed it wasn’t a big deal, I knew he needed me there.

  We got Leah and J.D. from their room next to ours and drove to the cemetery in Sawville. The service would be graveside, no funeral home or church. Jesse had been gone from the area for years, and when he left, he’d angered a lot of people. The Wyatt boys didn’t expect a big turnout.

  Besides the six of us, only one old friend of Jesse’s showed up. He happened to stand near me, and I had to turn my head to breathe, the stench of body odor and booze was so strong.

  The minister said a few generic words about the value of every life. Hard to find anything positive in Jesse Wyatt’s, so he kept it simple, then invited the boys to speak if they wished. Jonah shook his head. Micah coughed. Only J.D. spoke up.

  “Our father wasn’t an easy man to love. He didn’t give any of us much cause to celebrate his life. But these last few days, sitting by his bedside, I’ve had a lot of time to think.” He frowned and stared at the plain wood coffin poised above the open hole.

  “I believe sometimes there’s a sort of grace in offering respect even when it’s unearned, a spiritual moment in joining together to say good-bye. We survived Dad’s neglect to become worthwhile men, so maybe we owe him a little something simply for making our lives possible.” J.D. rubbed his jaw and looked uncomfortable, as if he’d gotten into a speech he couldn’t quite find his way out of.

  “If there really is a devil, the old man has found himself the perfect drinking buddy at last,” Micah quipped, but not a trace of a smile curved his mouth. He reminded me of one of those statues on Easter Island, impassive and remote.

  “Amen,” Jesse Wyatt’s grizzled old friend replied without a hint of irony.

  Much later, after we were alone in our motel room, I joined Micah in the shower, sidling in behind him and running my hands over his slick body. I pressed my lips against his warm, wet back while feeling every ridge of his ridiculously fit body—hard and solid underneath my palms. My guy was no gym rat by any stretch of the imagination, but he had a trim, athletic build.

  “Good genes. You can thank your dad for that,” I said against his skin.

  Micah laughed and turned to face me. He took the bath puff and glided it over me, lathering my skin. I tingled and not just from the hard jets of water or scratchy nylon. I nearly yelped when he drew the puff over my nipples, they were so tender and aching.

  We kissed as the hot spray washed away the suds from both of our bodies. Micah lowered his face and sucked on one breast, then the other, while I groaned and jutted my chest for even more contact. After a moment, he lifted me up and held me against the wall of the shower while he rammed into me. Every push made me shudder and whine. I gripped his hair and twisted hard, making him gasp.

  Our athletics were too much for the small space. We shut off the shower and dried off with cheap motel towels, then we raced for the bed. As I tumbled onto my back and pulled Micah down on top of me, I felt the urgency in his body. He needed this release, needed a little bit of aggression right now, so I gave it to him. We thrashed around and nipped and pushed hard against each other.

  He filled me with a force and drive that made me cry out. Micah’s usual vibe as a lover was slow and skillful. God knew he had enough practice to make him really good at sex. But this time he fucked me hard and rough.

  And I loved it.

  When we were done, both of us were sweaty again and breathing hard. I leaned up on one elbow to look at him. “Feel better?”

  He nodded.

  It was then I noticed his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He bit his lower lip hard to keep from letting go.

  I moved in close and gathered him to me, holding his head against my chest and stroking his hair. “It’s all right to be upset. It’s all right to care.”

  “But he was a son of a bitch. He doesn’t deserve it.” The catch in Micah’s voice nearly broke my heart.

  “Doesn’t matter. You feel what you feel. Let it out. There’s only you and me here.” I was amazed I could even speak, my own throat swelled with emotion.

  The rest of Micah’s tension, the part he hadn’t let loose in his climax, shuddered through him then. And he proved that men do cry, while I held him with all the strength in my arms.

  *

  Micah

  When I got done crying like a little bitch, Gina never said a word about it, for which I was extremely grateful. She climbed out of bed and started to dress. “We should get ready. We’re supposed to meet the others for dinner.”

  I wiped away the last of my tears and snot and hurried to catch up with her. We weren’t going anywhere fancy—fancy didn’t exist in Sawville—so I tossed on a bowling shirt, a pair of khaki pants, and tasseled loafers.

  Gina, dressed in a short skirt and leather jacket, swept a gaze over me before we walked out the door, and smiled. “In case I forget to ever say it, I love your sense of style.”

  She moved in close and slid her arms around me. “Even when I didn’t really like you—on our blind date, for example—I always liked your clothes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”

  “Take it as a compliment. Even then I think I knew a lot of your flirty bullshit was an act.” She tugged on the lapels of the vintage shirt. “But this…the quirkiness, hinted there was an interesting man underneath. Not some hipster poser, you were simply wearing clothes you liked.”

  Now I lifted both brows. “You’re saying my couture won you over?”

  “No. I still thought you were pretty much a jerk.” She squeezed me with her arms around my waist. “The night you helped me find Sonia, that’s when I saw the gentleman in you. Your kindness and willingness to rush to my rescue—it was sweet.”

  “I am a sweetie.”

  “You’re so sweet, if a swarm of flies went by, they’d get stuck on you,” she quipped.

  I kissed her and whispered. “Gina?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’d better leave the one-liners to me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rianna

  Facing Clay again after the way he’d showed up drunk on our wedding day was one of the hardest things I had to do. I wished so badly he’d simply disappear off the face of the earth, go back to whatever rock he’d crawled out from under, but for the first time, I realized I couldn’t make him evaporate. He’d keep coming back like a bad penny. I was connected to the man for life through Travis.

  Once I accepted that unpleasant truth, Jonah and I came up with a game plan for how to deal with Clay. We wouldn’t deny him the right to see Travis, but we could and would monitor every visit.

  I put Clay off until after Jesse’s death and funeral, but when things had calmed down and returned to normal, I had no more excuses. I texted Clay the address to the park where we’d agreed to meet him. The next day, with Jonah beside me and Travis running ahead to the playground, I walked across the lush park grass toward my ex.

  As I’d done so many times in the past, I immediately put out my feelers and gauged his mood. Drunk? Angry? Sad? Apologetic? At ease and happy? I recalled the days when I’d had to pussyfoot around Clay
’s rapidly shifting moods.

  I didn’t have to do that anymore, I reminded myself, yet I still noted that Clay’s shoulders slumped in dejection and his eyes were clear as he watched Travis run to the jungle gym. Not drunk, feeling guilty and nostalgic for what might have been.

  “He’s amazing.” Clay’s voice sounded awed.

  “Yes,” I answered curtly. “Look, we’re going to have to set some ground rules. You’ve already proved to us that you’re having trouble keeping sober. Jonah and I insist on supervised visits with Travis.”

  Jonah, standing a few yards behind me, didn’t add anything, but I felt the strength and comfort of his presence at my back. He wouldn’t intervene. This was my rodeo. But he’d be there for me if Clay grew belligerent. Nothing bad could happen to me or Travis while he was around.

  No temper tantrums that day. Clay’s head hung like a dog who’d stolen the Thanksgiving turkey. “I can understand that. I had a long talk with my sponsor, and he’s made me consider some things.” He flicked a gaze up to me. “I want to make amends and apologize to you for interrupting your wedding.”

  Amends schlamends. I imagined Clay would apologize often without ever really changing his behavior, but I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  I nodded. “So… I guess we’ll go over to the playground, and I’ll introduce you to Travis.”

  I’d rehearsed the moment a hundred times in my mind. I used to think it might happen some day, but in my mind, Travis had always been older, more capable of understanding what “bio-dad” meant.

  “Honey, come here a sec,” I called him from the jungle gym he’d just begun to climb.

  “Don’t wanna. I’m having fun.” He clung like a monkey and looked at me upside down.

  “Only a minute. There’s somebody I want you to meet.”

  Reluctantly, he dropped to the ground, kicking up a puff of sand with his landing. He made his way through the throng of munchkins swarming the climbing structure and stopped before us. He stared up at Clay with eyes so similar it was eerie.