by Blue Saffire
She and I both. “Same, but that isn’t the news. Maddox was there when Dean came out of his session, and he asked him to coach his baseball team.”
Erica gasps on the other side of the phone. “What did he say?”
“He said he would do it.”
I have to pull the phone away from my ear when my sister’s squeal nearly causes me to go deaf. “Way to go, nephew. He’s the perfect little wingman.”
I laugh. “It still doesn’t change anything.”
“Umm, yes it does. Now you get to spend more time with him.”
“Time was never the issue.”
“You’re such a downer. In the words of Minister Washington, fear and doubt is of the devil. It has no place in your life.”
I have to cover my mouth; I laugh so hard at my sister mocking my father. Erica joins in my laughter until eventually it dies down. “You know the good pastor would have something to say about you mocking him.”
“He would understand if I told him his favorite child was acting like a little—”
“You better not say it.”
Erica giggles. “I want my baby sister to be happy. Plus, how long has it been since you had some good dick?”
“Oh my god,” I shout.
“And this is my cue to go sleep on the couch,” Kevin announces in the background.
“Goodnight, Erica. Go spend time with your husband.”
“You’re no fun,” she teases. “Goodnight, sissy. Love you, but I still need you to make something happen with Mr. Dean.”
“Love you too, and that can never happen.” We both laugh before clicking off the phone.
I lie back in my bed.
Erica wasn’t kidding about this being torture for me. While I was in high school, I would daydream for hours about him. Honestly, I still do it now.
Those sleepy gray eyes, whenever he focused them on you, made you feel like the most important girl in the world. His dark brown hair and slight facial hair made his square face stand out. I even loved that his ears stood out from his head. On some people it would look funny, but not on Dean.
It’s been a long time since either of us graced a high school hallway, but he is still, if not more, attractive at the age of twenty-nine.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I remember his flirtatious smiles and winks at me today. Without even thinking about it, I slip my hand inside my nightstand drawer pulling out my little bullet.
I’ve used this thing more than I ever did before, since he showed up in my office. I click it on and the buzzing starts. After sliding my panties to the side, I find my hidden button. It’s been years since I’ve had the real thing. Not since Quentin.
A lot of my problems with Dean are because I’m so sexually frustrated. It’s hard to think clearly around him and even harder when he makes that throbbing between my legs start. I’m sure if I had a healthy dose of dick in my life, I could easily keep the relationship with him strictly professional.
However, as the whirring of my vibrator gets me closer to my release and all I see behind my closed eyelids is Dean’s smiling face, my mind determines that’s a lie. My toes curl and my body starts to arch off the bed as my orgasm rears its head. Just when that flutter in my stomach builds up to a boil, my son’s voice comes through the door.
“Mama, what’s that noise? Can I come in?”
I growl my frustration as I switch the vibrator off. I kick my feet on the bed like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum. Seems like I can’t even get imaginary dick.
“Mama, are you listening?”
“Hold on, Maddox, I’m coming.” I place my vibrator back in the nightstand and adjust my panties before heading to the door. Looks like it will be another unsatisfying night.
Chapter 3
Forbidden Fruit
Dean
“I have to say, Dean, I’m surprised you’re doing this. I would’ve thought you never wanted to step foot back on the baseball field again,” Phillip Davis says on the other end of the phone.
I made the deadline, making sure I took all the assigned paperwork up to his office. It took a few days for him to get back to me. I had to do a drug test and they ran a background check. They aren’t playing about having me around these kids.
I kept telling myself I’m jumping through a lot of damn hoops to see Sienna, but then one of those shy smiles pops into my head and this doesn’t seem like enough. I do realize I’m using her son to get to her, but it’s a win for everyone. The kid gets to play baseball, and I get to play with his mother.
I take a sip from my beer bottle before I reply to Phillip. “This will be good for me. I need to get back out there.” That’s the lie I keep telling myself.
“Plus, this will be great for the club and the kids. Ticket sales will go through the roof. People will love to come out to see you on the field again, even just as a coach.”
I flinch. That’s something I’m not looking forward too. I know the things people say about me behind my back.
I’m washed up. My talent was overrated. Even the comment the kid made about his dad, I heard it before. My last two years in the major leagues wasn’t as big as I had hoped. The Redfins still had faith in me, and that last year I was just starting to turn things around. Then a stupid steal to second base took me out.
I knew the moment it happened I wasn’t going to recover from it. My foot hit the base wrong as I tried to stop the momentum of my run. Searing pain shot up my calf to my thigh.
I broke my fibula, dislocated my knee and tore ligaments. The news media said it was one of the worst baseball injuries in the world, right up there with that famous pitcher dislocating his arm in mid-pitch. I’m going down in baseball history, just not for my ability to throw a curve ball, but for a fucking injury.
The town’s people think I’m angry, and I was. I was furious. Half of the town wanted to see me fail.
They wanted my dreams to come crashing down on me. That’s why I’m not too excited about them coming to see me coach. Just another chance for them to stare and whisper behind their hands, but I’m still going to do it.
I run a hand down my face, the prickly hairs of my uncut beard scraping my palm. “Long as it doesn’t take away from the kids.” And I mean that.
I may not be doing this for all the right reasons, but I don’t want to ruin anything for those kids.
“Oh, don’t worry. The kids will be fine.” Phillip laughs. “So, I’ve just sent you everything you’ll need. The email has your roster, your practice times, and even your tournament dates. Because you guys started late, you’re going to have to pick up a few supplies. I sent you that information too. Also, each coach has an assigned team mom.”
“A what?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. Those ladies are lifesavers. Let me see.” He pauses for a second. “Looks like your team mom is Sienna Washington.”
I sit up on the couch. The beer still clutched in my hand. No way!
Phillip, oblivious to the bombshell he just dropped in my lap, continues on. “You may want to get in touch with her sooner rather than later. She can help you organize the fundraisers and...”
“What’s her number?”
I don’t give a shit what she could help with for the team. The only number I have for her is her work number. Whenever I needed to call her, I’ve had to call her office line, if it’s after hours it directs me to her private line, but it’s never secure. I can’t hold a real conversation with her on that line. However, now I’ll have her private number.
“It’s in the email I just sent you,” Phillip says. “Now you’re going to want to—”
“I’ll do all that,” I say. “I’ll check the email. Thanks for all the help, Phillip.”
“Ummm. Ok! And Thank—”
I hang up the phone before he can finish. I immediately go to my inbox on my phone. I skim all the information in the email he sent to find Sienna’s number in the attachments.
I smile as I plug her number into my phone and
hit dial. Soon as it starts ringing, I put my beer bottle down on the coffee table and climb to my feet.
Her voice comes on the other end of the phone. Even with all the noise in the background, that sweet lyrical sound stands out. “Hello?”
“So, you’re the team mom?”
Her voice catches. I’ve never heard her make the sound before and I have to say, I love it.
“Hey, Dean.”
I love the way she says my name. It comes out like a melody. It’s like my name is part of a song that only she knows. A loud laugh echoes in the background followed by the sound of police sirens. “Mom, where’re you going?” Her kid’s voice comes through the line as he asks the question.
“I’ll be back.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
I just realize that it’s after 7:00 p.m. on a Friday night and maybe she has company. Maybe she and the kid are hanging with a male friend. Fuck. I don’t exactly know if she’s seeing someone or not.
“No, not a bad time. I was just watching a movie with Maddox. What’s up?”
I won’t acknowledge the relief I feel knowing it’s just her and her son.
“So, this team mom gig, what does it entail?”
“I’m like your assistant. I’m here to make your job easier.”
I definitely have a job I want her to make easy. From the moment I saw her, I was attracted to her. I mean, she’s gorgeous, how could I not be? It’s something about the way she carried herself. She’s self-assured, classy, but she has this shyness about her. A shyness I want to explore. However, spending time with her has made me realize that she’s a lot more than just a stunning woman.
“Let’s say I need help with this long ass list of supplies for the team, you could help me with that?”
There’s a pause from her. “You can send me the list and I can pick up a few things.”
A devilish grin spreads over my face. “No, we can just go shopping together.”
“Dean,” she says in warning, but even that’s softened with her lyrical tone. “That isn’t a good idea.”
“Why?” I have to ask.
“You’re still my client.”
“So what? We’re just shopping for sports equipment.”
“If someone sees us out together, they can get the wrong idea.”
“Then we’ll go to Russellville. It’s only thirty minutes away and they have that big outdoor shopping mall.”
“Dean.”
“Come on. I could use your help, plus it will take my mind off of this mediation coming up.” Low blow, but I’m not against doing anything I can to get alone time with her.
She sighs. “All right.”
Yes! Thankfully I’m home alone to do my celebratory fist pump.
“Great. I can pick you up tomorrow.”
“No,” she says quickly. “I’ll meet you there.”
I could argue and maybe even fight her on it, but I’ll let her have this. I’m not going to push her too far out of her comfort zone. Just being around her has revealed she’s shy and reserved when it comes to men.
Even when I flirt with her, she seems shocked by it and sometimes unsure. I don’t know why; I can’t imagine being hit on is something new to her. Her beauty and that luscious body must have eyes on her all the time.
“All right. It’s whatever you want to do.”
“Good, I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah, see you then.” We hang up and I’m astounded by the silence of my home.
Hearing the commotion on the other end of Sienna’s line makes the loneliness in my house hurt that much more. Trisha and I had plans. After my fourth year in the league we were going to start trying for kids. Yet I started to tank that fifth year, and we opted to wait again.
After the injury, I wasn’t in the right mindset to start a family. Despite how much Trisha wanted too. Thank God we waited. I can’t even imagine trying to go through a custody battle along with this divorce.
I go back to the couch and flop down. The good mood I just had has ended. I’m back to the Dean I’ve been more than not lately.
Chapter 4
Ice Cream
Sienna
His laughter is boisterous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean this carefree. Even in high school he was always so focused and serious.
That first day he showed up in my office he was so guarded and angry. I don’t think he smiled at any time during that first appointment. It’s good to see him laughing.
“You have to be kidding me?” he says.
“Nope. In fact, every Sunday for an entire month, my father preached on the sins of pornography.”
“All because you were reading a book?”
“It was one of those grocery store romance books. You know the ones with the half-naked men on the covers?”
Another boisterous laugh. “I can envision a young Sienna reading one of those books. Did you learn your lesson?”
“No, I just learned how to hide them better.”
We both laugh as we round the corner of the outlet mall. Sitting on the opposite sidewalk from us is an ice cream parlor. We have already purchased everything we will need for the baseball team. We have no reason to still be here, but it’s obvious neither of us are ready to say bye.
“How about some ice cream?” he says, pointing to the shop as if reading my mind.
I know this is a bad idea. It’s one thing to be in the same store shopping, but sitting down in a restaurant is too much like a date. Although I haven’t seen anyone I know, it doesn’t mean it can’t get back to the wrong people.
I open my mouth to tell him we should head back when he cuts me off. “It’s just ice cream. We don’t even have to sit down and eat. We can grab it to go.”
I hate what those dark gray eyes do to me. Just one glance from him and I’ll give him whatever he wants. “Fine.”
His smile lights up his face as he grabs my hand with his free one and guides me to the ice cream shop. The smell of fresh milk and fruit greets us the moment we walk in. The place is fairly empty. A family of three sit in the corner, a young couple not far from the door, and what looks to be a group of college guys hang out in the back.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Oh no, I’ll be buying my own ice cream. Remember this isn’t a date.”
A little frown steals across his face before he wipes it away with a smile. He holds his hand up in surrender. “All right.” he concedes. “I’ll just make it up to you later.”
The wink at the end of that sentence has me thinking naughty thoughts. I’m sure he meant it in a platonic way, but I can’t persuade my body of that. I don’t know if it’s the chill of the parlor or the images of him making it up to me that has my nipples pressing against my top.
I turn away from him and discreetly rub my arm over my nipples to smooth out the hardened sensitive nubs. I’m already rocking large DD cup breasts. I don’t need anything else to bring attention to the ladies.
“Welcome to Pinky’s. What can I get for you?” the bubbly blonde teen asks from behind the counter. I quickly tell her what I want and then step to the side for Dean.
“I don’t think I’ve tried that flavor. You have to let me taste yours.”
Okay, now I’m not tripping. I can almost feel the innuendo in that sentence. My cheeks flame and not enough rubbing in the world will tame these tits now.
The girl behind the counter hands me my ice cream cone after I scan my card for payment. The moment I turn around, one of the college kids bumps into me, knocking my ice cream to the ground. He doesn’t even stop to say sorry.
“Excuse you,” I say as politely as possible.
He turns to me with a cocky grin. “Sorry, it’s not like you needed it anyway.”
Before I can react to his disrespectful comment, Dean has the kid jacked up against the sneeze guard glass with his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”
“I’m sorry, Du
de. I didn’t know she was with you.”
“It doesn’t matter if she’s with me or not, you don’t disrespect any female like that.”
By now everyone in the ice cream parlor has their eyes on us. I notice the other asshole college kids pulling out their phones to record, rather than helping their friend.
This is the last thing Dean needs. We’ve worked so hard to prove to his ex and whatever judge he’ll have at his divorce hearing, that he isn’t the violent type his wife has painted him out to be. It could set him back if a video comes out of him beating some dumb kid’s ass.
“Let him go.”
His angry glare cuts to me. “Not after what he said to you.”
I lean in a little closer. “His words are meaningless. We only give them power if we react to them. Don’t give him that power.”
I place a hand on his arm. He looks down to where it touches him, his face already softening. The moment he lets the guy go; I exhale. For a moment, I was worried my words wouldn’t make a difference.
“Get out of my fucking sight,” he warns and the guy scurries away quickly, nearly tripping over his feet to get back to the table with his friends.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. He spins around on the balls of his feet and storms back out the door. I go to follow, but remember he has an ice cream cone waiting. I pay for his ice cream and grab the bags he dropped before grabbing the guy. The blonde teen hands me a new cone for me, and the one for Dean. I smile and then head out to follow him.
I find him pacing in circles, his hands on top of his head in tight fists. I can tell he’s still angry. Even the people passing by give him a wider breadth. I approach him slowly.
“You forgot something.” I hold up his ice cream cone when he turns to look at me.
His face softens when he meets my stare, but rage still hides behind his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and blows out a breath. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you in there, and for leaving you, but I had to walk out. I still want to go back in there and just…” He breaks off the last part of the sentence and turns away from me with his fist clenched.