Playing Ball

by Kerry Freeman

  “As long as Dawn eventually comes around, and I think she will, I’m okay. She’s more upset knowing there is going to be a break in the family than because there is a picture of us kissing online. The only reason my parents kept in contact with me this long was because of the boys and I try to limit that because they don’t need to hear my parents’ stupidity. We’re all better off without that.”

  Ruben looked over at Alan’s profile, his gaze tracing over his familiar face. Alan glanced at him and smiled, and Ruben’s heart did that quick two-step at the easiness of that smile. Alan disarmed him completely and once again Ruben pushed his worries aside. He held his beer toward Alan. “True, I’d rather talk baseball anyway.”

  Alan clinked his bottle against Ruben’s. “Well, here’s to us, the underdogs once again.”

  “Won’t be the first time we started out losing and ended strong.” Ruben chuckled and took a sip. “Though, if you ask me, Brett’s team is the one to beat this year. They were very together today. I’m pretty proud of him.”

  “Yeah, he’s one hell of an outfielder. Doesn’t hit too bad either.” Alan grinned. “Though I swear, I think the play of the day should’ve gone to Sammy. That kid almost went horizontal through the air to make that catch and get the out. How often do you see a move like that? Horizontal, Ruben. He leapt off that pitcher’s mound like something out of The Matrix. It blew my mind.”

  “What about that triple Tyler made in your game?”

  Alan shook his head, turning his beer bottle in his hands. “These kids amaze me. I thought I’d miss it more—the old life, you know. And there are times I do, but when I watch these kids play the way they played today, I realize how happy I am right here, doing this.”

  Ruben smiled, feeling his heart expand once again in his chest. Alan glanced his way again and then paused with his head slightly tilted. “What? You’re giving me that look again.”

  Ruben brushed his fingertips over Alan’s arm and took his hand when Alan offered it. “What look is that?”

  “With your eyes all soft…. I don’t know, there’s something about it, always catches me hard.”

  “I’m so in love with you, Alan.”

  Alan’s eyes widened, then he laughed under his breath softly in a wondering sort of way and shook his head. For some reason, maybe because he was too tired, Ruben didn’t have it in him to be stung or defensive. “What’s so funny?”

  “You love me?” Alan sat back in his chair, set his beer down, and tightened his grip on Ruben’s hand.

  Ruben stared at their clasped hands. “I’ve been telling you that for years. Maybe I wasn’t using the right words. I love you with everything that there is in me.”

  Alan laughed that funny little laugh again and turned his head to study Ruben’s face. There was a smile around his lips and he was rubbing his thumb across the back of Ruben’s knuckles. “I get it. God, I’ve been so blind, let myself worry about so many other things, big and small. And there you were the whole time, always there, loving me, being there for me when I needed it….” He trailed off with another shake of his head and squeezed Ruben’s hand. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

  Ruben’s heart started to pound, and he suddenly found it difficult to swallow. “What are you saying?”

  Alan’s tender smile broadened into a grin. “The same thing I think I’ve been trying to say for a long time too.” He lifted Ruben’s hand and pressed a hard kiss to his knuckles. “I’m so in love with you, Ruben Martell. I have been since I don’t know when.”

  Ruben’s heart stopped then sprang back to life with a rapid pounding. He’d wanted to hear those words for so long that it was a little surreal now. He leaned across the space between them and slid his hand around the nape of Alan’s neck. Relief, elation, and the ache of how much he loved Alan caught him up, stole any more words right out of his mouth. And then there was no chance to speak because Alan was kissing him.

  He sighed into the kiss, smiling against Alan’s lips, his heart still flipping with happy little jumps. “Come upstairs with me,” Alan murmured.

  “Are you sure?” Ruben asked, pulling back slightly, though his body argued against it.

  “More sure than I have been about anything in a long time,” Alan admitted. “I’ve been going crazy thinking about you, about us, about how good it felt to be with you on that couch. I want that again. I want to know everything there is to know about you. And even more, I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life.”

  Again, Ruben found himself incapable of speaking. He stood up, drew Alan with him, and with their hands still linked, led him upstairs. They paused in the doorway to Alan’s bedroom and Alan brushed his lips over the nape of Ruben’s neck, sending a hot shiver rippling through him. “Say it again, Ruben.”

  “I love you.”

  Lips curved against his neck, and Alan slid his arms around his waist and pulled him closer. “I’m listening this time. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

  About the Author

  MARGUERITE LABBE has been accused of being eccentric and a shade neurotic, both of which she freely admits to, but her muse has OCD tendencies, so who can blame her? Her husband and son do an excellent job keeping her toeing the line, though. Together with Fae Sutherland, Marguerite has found a shared passion for stubborn men with smart mouths. With her solo work she often likes to explore darker themes as well.

  When she’s not working hard on writing new material and editing completed work, she spends her time reading novels of all genres, enjoying role-playing games with her equally nutty friends, and trying to plot practical jokes against her son and husband.

  Visit Marguerite's web site at http://www.margueritelabbe.com.

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