by Jen Doyle
Those reserves came into play big-time when Mrs. Bellevue leaned forward, and in her still-booming voice attempted to whisper, “I’d just hate to see you make a fool of yourself over him. You know better than anyone how hard it is to live those things down.”
Because of people like you! Fitz wanted to shout. And anyway, what was to say Deke wouldn’t be the one to make a fool of himself over her? As if the subject would ever come up in the first place. Plus, why would Fitz be any more of a fool than any other woman in town? For heaven’s sake.
But again, she said none of that. “I certainly do,” she answered, keeping her fuming to herself before mumbling something about needing to head inside to meet Dorie. Mrs. Bellevue thankfully nodded vaguely and wandered off across the town green.
Hurrying inside before there were any other encounters, Fitz gave a quick wave to Aunt Laura at the circulation desk and then headed into the office, stopping when she realized Dorie was on a Skype call with Nate. Dorie waved her in, though, so Fitz took a seat at the table in the corner with a sigh of relief. And even more of an incentive to find out more about this job.
Pushing aside a stack of handouts, she got out her laptop and did a search for Sam Price. The only reference she could find was a vague one from an interview he’d given to Sports Illustrated about another “big project” on the horizon. Considering the man’s last “big project” was to fund the creation of a major league baseball team, the estimate of hundreds of millions of dollars probably wasn’t out of line.
She sat back in the chair. So. Wow. Yes, that would definitely be a larger scale than what she was doing now. The Iowa Dream Foundation funds had been built up over the years, but it was nowhere close to what Sam Price was capable of.
Glancing over to make sure Dorie was still on the phone, Fitz clicked on the folder with the packet she’d sent to Doug back in the fall. Since she was big on being anonymous, they’d put together a portfolio that highlighted her day-to-day role rather than the foundation itself. Reviewing it now, Fitz had to admit, it looked damn impress—
“Fitz.”
Fitz jumped when she realized Dorie was standing all of two feet away. She slammed her laptop shut. Not the smoothest, by any means, but the last thing she needed was anyone asking about her job search. It would create all kinds of drama, and she’d had more than enough of that in her life.
She looked up as Dorie repeated her name. “Sorry?”
“What do you think about going to the All-Star game?” Dorie asked. “Next month in San Francisco.”
“Oh.” Fitz had to think about that for a minute.
She’d been to the first All-Star game Nate had played in during his rookie year. It had been an experience, suffice it to say. The parties had been insane, complete with strippers and groupies galore. Plus there had been more alcohol and drugs than Fitz had seen in her entire life, not to mention most of it apparently needed to be consumed in a body shot of some kind. The guys had been so wasted, she wasn’t sure they’d realized she’d spent the majority of the trip with Jules, Ella and Mama Gin. Shopping.
“Nate’s already talking All-Star game?” she asked. “Are they even done with the balloting?”
Dorie turned her phone toward Fitz right in time for her to catch the puh-leeze look on Nate’s face.
Fitz rolled her eyes. “Right.”
With the exception of a rough start to spring training, Nate was playing better than he had at any point in his career, which was saying something. Plus he was even more of a media darling thanks to a comeback story that started with a car accident and ended with his proposal to Dorie, complete with a picture plastered everywhere from Sports Illustrated to People. Still...
Her reservations must have been obvious, because Nate chimed in with, “I’m thinking it will be a little different this time.”
Dorie’s “Hmph,” left no question in Fitz’s mind that the other woman was fully aware of Nate’s history. “I’d hope so.”
The way Nate looked at Dorie in response, though, was neither apologetic nor full of guilt, and Dorie didn’t seem upset. Instead, it was clear even to Fitz, who had absolutely no experience whatsoever in these kinds of things, that whatever issues they may have had, they’d gotten past them. Or were at least dealing with them. They loved each other that much. It was so different from anything Fitz had ever experienced that she sometimes actually felt envious, an entirely foreign emotion. When Fitz wanted something she went for it, and a relationship of any kind wasn’t even close to being on that list.
She didn’t want to be tied down. Yes, during the last few months of watching Nate and Dorie fall in love she’d wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so awful to just once have someone look at her the way Nate looked at Dorie. But the answer was yes. It would be awful. She didn’t ever want to depend on someone that much. She’d certainly never let a man become so important to her that the choices he made could disrupt her entire life in the way her father’s choices had affected Mama Gin.
Of course, with all that said, it wasn’t like Fitz had any expectation of it ever being an issue. And since she didn’t have anyone to answer to, not to mention the whole man candy factor she’d managed to notice in the midst of all those body shots, well... Okay. “I would totally be up for that.”
A big smile came over Dorie’s face as she turned her attention back to Nate. “We’re in!” Then she went on to say, “We should invite everyone. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
Nate’s immediate response of, “Yeah. I think it would,” surprised Fitz a little. She was pretty sure it wasn’t the weekend he’d been imagining. It was all good as far as Fitz was concerned, though. As long as Dorie was there to hang out with, she couldn’t care less what the guys did. Because then they’d stay out of her business and she could have fun.
Of the dancing on the bar variety.
She smiled. Yep, she was all in.
Chapter Four
The rest of Deke’s day didn’t go according to plan. Of course, since his plan had been to head up to Ames, drink a lot, and then find a woman to hook up with, maybe that wasn’t the worst thing. Because as much as he needed it, he wasn’t sure he wanted it. But, man, he hadn’t had sex in a long time. Too long. And tonight was supposed to be the night he’d get his mojo back. Dirty, anonymous, blow-your-head-off mojo.
Instead he was doing carpool.
He’d packed up all the equipment, turned the field over to the eight-to-ten bracket, and then given in to Si and Matty’s pleas to go out for pizza.
This also meant having dinner with Peggy, et al, although, thankfully, also with most of the dads joining them. Being on his own with the women didn’t generally bother him, but for some reason it was the last thing he wanted today. And amidst the general grumbling about crazy schedules, honey-do lists, and, yes, the expected comments about Deke’s carefree, no-strings-attached life that he shrugged off with a smile, there was a sense of contentment among the couples that he’d never noticed before.
An odd, itchy feeling settled deeply into his chest. It made him kind of antsy, in fact. By the time he pulled into Lola’s driveway, he just wanted to go home. Or, hell, since Ames wasn’t happening tonight, maybe he’d go back and find Peggy after all. She’d made it overwhelmingly clear she was interested. Plus, when she wasn’t being prissy about her makeup being ruined, she was a hell of a time in bed.
But right now he was definitely in a pissy mood. Foul enough to slam the door of his truck hard and see Lola’s flinch as he rounded the back of it.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out for the boys’ backpacks when Deke got to the front door. She moved to let him in. “It’s your night off. I just...” She tilted her head toward the kitchen island, where Jules sat, shoulders hunched and eyes closed.
Oh, Jesus.
Deke scrubbed his hand over his face. He w
as an ass.
Here was his widowed, mom-of-four sister, doing what she could to take care of her oldest friend, and here he was, pretty much without a care in the world, in a shitty mood because of an annoying case of heartburn.
He put his arm around Lola’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I’m yours for the night, Lo. Whatever you need. Margaritas, beer run... Hell, I can even whip up some cake batter if you want.” Lola and Jules’s wallowing drug of choice.
Lola’s arms went around his waist and she hugged him hard. “Oh, we’re well past cake batter time,” she said. “But I think we can take it from he—”
Her words were cut off by a shriek, followed by a roared, “James... Thomas... McIntire!”
A naked, dripping wet three-year-old tore down the second floor hallway. He had a head full of shampoo, his eyes were scrunched shut, and he was wailing like a banshee, a phrase Deke had never fully understood until this particular moment. Three steps behind him was an equally wet, shampoo-wearing Fitz, who was clutching the other two naked triplets, one to each side, as she tore down the hall after James.
With a sigh, Lola closed the front door. “He hates to get his hair washed.”
Although Deke spent a fair amount of time with his nephews, he had to admit, whenever he was presented with the opportunity, he made a beeline for Silas and let someone else handle the triplets. “Apparently.”
Leaning back against the door, Lola mumbled, “I don’t suppose you could...” This time the trailing off of her voice was masterfully coordinated with that pleading look in her eyes. The look she gave him whenever she knew she was asking him to do something he didn’t want to do.
Goddamn it.
“You did say anything,” she added.
Not technically true. What he’d said was, whatever she needed. He was pretty sure she did not need him to take care of the triplets, as Fitz no doubt had it all well enough in hand, banshees notwithstanding. But Lola clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook. So with a muttered, “Hell,” Deke turned his baseball cap backward on his head and climbed the stairs. He followed the trail of water down the hallway, through Lola’s bedroom, right into the master bath where Fitz was wringing the hem of her shirt.
“Geez, Fitz.” He was about to make some snarky comment about her letting the boys run roughshod over her, except when he looked down to see her white shirt was now entirely see-through, all he could see was the girls.
“Really?” she snapped when she looked up and saw him standing there, his eyes where they absolutely shouldn’t be. “You’ve judged about eighteen thousand wet T-shirt contests. You can’t honestly tell me this isn’t anything you haven’t seen.”
Well, no. That didn’t make it better, though.
“Sit your ass down and help me.” She pointed to the spot next to her as she sank to her knees by the tub where the three boys were now playing happily. “I can’t believe Lola does this every night.”
Given the amount of dirt covering all four of Lola’s boys on a regular basis, Deke was pretty sure that wasn’t true. In fact, he could have sworn he’d seen Lola just hosing them down one night before putting them to bed.
But reassuring Fitz was a physical impossibility at the moment. She’d just straightened up and it was clear the white bra she was wearing didn’t hold up to the water any better than her T-shirt had. He cleared his throat and stared hard at the wall behind her. Nudging her to the side, he took the shampoo she was handing him, while very specifically not looking down. “I can finish up here. Why don’t you, uh...”
Damn it to hell, his eyes went straight to Fitz’s chest again, completely of their own accord. And because it was Fitz, she was well aware of the transgression and totally pissed off. Hell, Deke was ready to knock his own head into the wall, much less wait around for Nate to do it.
Or Fitz, given that her eyes had gone narrow and her face got all pinched up. Unfortunately, it was accompanied by her folding her arms across her chest in a way that emphasized precisely the thing she was pissed at him about.
Why did women do that?
“Look,” he said, trying to wrestle the situation into control. “I have no clue, okay? It’s like a short circuit somewhere.” He turned his cap back around so it was covering his eyes and leaned forward enough so he couldn’t quite see her. Waving his hand out vaguely behind him, he managed to finish his thought, even though it was beyond pathetically done. “Just, um, go get some dry clothes on. Give a guy a break.”
“I would be happy to ‘give a guy a break,’” she muttered. She elbowed him in the gut so he’d move over, leaving no doubt in his mind what kind of break she was talking about. “But you can’t even be in the same room with all three of them at once without having a panic attack. Do you honestly think I’m leaving you alone with them in a tub full of water? You can’t be serious.”
Leave it to Fitz to notice that. He was pretty sure even Lola had no clue the triplets scared the crap out of him.
Fine. He gave the shampoo back to Fitz and then lathered up the first one’s hair.
“Uncle Deke is not serious,” one of them said.
Luke? Maybe that one was Emmet. Deke wasn’t entirely sure.
“Uncle Deke is a goofball,” another answered. Except in the cute, high-pitched voice they all had going on, it came out sounding more like “poof ball.”
“Gee, thanks, Dude,” Deke muttered. Christ.
With a smile so sweet it made even Deke want to lay at the kid’s feet, the third one looked at Fitz all dreamy-like and said, “Auntie Fitz is very serious. I love Auntie Fitz so much.”
Deke was pretty sure that one was James, because his hair was a mass of dried up shampoo bubbles. Deke was also pretty impressed, because Fitz, who had been ready to kick some three-year-old butt no more than five minutes before, had completely fallen for it. All was forgiven it seemed, as she put her hands on either side of the kid’s face and bent down to kiss his forehead.
“And I love James so much,” she said.
James. Nailed it.
Clearly feeling left out, one of the other two grabbed Fitz’s arm, splashing the already sopping T-shirt even more. “I love Auntie Fitz, too,” he said. Then, pulling her away from James—and right into Deke, something he was doing everything possible to ignore—the kid plopped down cross-legged into the water. “I also love my penis.” Then he moved his hips back and forth. “Look! It jiggles!”
It didn’t surprise him at all that Fitz then sweetly said, “Uncle Deke loves his penis, too. So much.”
Deke snorted. And he felt the laugh ripple through Fitz as she fought to contain it; a giggle so soft he only heard it because he’d turned his head to say...
Nothing. The words died in his throat when his eyes met hers and she looked so...happy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her eyes sparkle quite like that. That itchy feeling in his chest changed into something entirely different, and he had a sudden urge to lean in. To cup the back of her head and bend down and kiss her.
And, goddamn, he almost did it. Almost lost every iota of sense he had in his head.
He was saved by a tiny three-year-old voice piping up, asking, “Do you love Auntie Fitz, too?” Followed by a gentle tugging of Deke’s hat. “Do you love her penis?”
It took Deke a moment to register the question, a moment during which one of the boys managed to get hold of the shower head and begin spraying with abandon. It was enough to bring Deke back to his senses. He pulled away from Fitz, grabbed the hose and regained control. “Time to rinse you guys off and get you into bed.”
And forget any of this insanity had ever happened.
Chapter Five
Fitz sat back on her heels, watching as Deke suddenly became Mr. Mom, rinsing off the boys with the utmost efficiency and speed.
Had he almost just k
issed her?
Her hand came up to her lips. Granted, she didn’t have much experience. There hadn’t been a lot of boys around while she was growing up. Coming to Inspiration should have opened up some doors, but the whole Peggy thing had been humiliating enough that she’d never even looked at another boy for the rest of high school. And the downside of hanging out primarily with Nate and Co. during college meant spending far too much time in frat houses playing beer pong. Being damn good at beer pong she’d enjoyed herself immensely. She just hadn’t considered it a sufficient form of seduction and therefore ended up alone in her room at the end of the evening more often than not.
So, no. Kissing wasn’t exactly her area of expertise. It was possible she’d read the situation entirely wrong.
“For fuck’s sake, Fitz,” Deke muttered, pulling her out of her head. “A little help?”
She suppressed a nervous giggle as he turned to her, his baseball cap half-forward, half-back, thanks to his attempts to bring the boys under control. Of course now it was hard not to notice his soaking navy-blue T-shirt clinging to his pecs and shoulders...
So okay. Maybe she could forgive him for the wet T-shirt thing. She got it.
“Fitz.”
Right. “Sorry.” She turned her head away and reached for James. It was time for this bath to be over.
“So, uh, what next?” Deke asked when they’d gotten the three boys out of the tub and wrapped in their towels.
She looked up as he took his cap off and ran his hand through his now thoroughly wet hair. Her mouth went a little dry.
What was her problem? Two weeks ago he’d made her judge a burping contest in which extra points were given for substance and tone. Just the other day they’d had an argument over whether it was time to finally burn the tennis shoes in his gym bag. Which, by the way, it was.