Now she had to face her brother and tell him she’d failed. Explain to him that she’d had the money in her hands and she’d let it slip right through her fingers.
A sob ripped from her chest and Lorelei lowered her head until her forehead rested on the steering wheel. Giving in to the hot tide of despair and self-disgust, she let the tears come. The floodgates opened and like rain they fell in a steady rhythm down her cheeks, dropped to her lap. Inside the house fifty feet from her lay a little girl with a deformed heart of pure gold who was going to die.
But it was more than that. So much more. Feelings so complex and strong that she had trouble identifying them ripped at her chest. Grief for Michelle was there, yes, yet something long buried and deeply personal thrummed a wounded rhythm in her, too.
She’d had it—the passion, the adventure, the life. Everything her secret heart had longed for while it had been shoved to the back of her emotional closet and more urgent issues had taken precedence. It had huddled there, untended and ignored for years. Yet it had persisted. And just when it had finally been brought gently from the dark and set to bask in the warm, nurturing sun, she’d had to shove it back in again.
She ached. In a way that bordered on desperate and inconsolable. To have tasted her dream and had it in the palm of her hand, only to see it slip through her fingers like sifting sand, nearly undid her. The thought of going back to the life she’d had before Mark was crushing. Worse yet was the thought of the life that waited ahead for her now that there was no hope for Michelle.
Lorelei threw her head back and cried out, “What is wrong with me?” Why couldn’t she do it? Why hadn’t she been able to sell his necklace? Why all the half-assed attempts and self-sabotage? The answer was right there in front of her, naked with uncensored truth. She hadn’t done it because Mark had once been a lonely, awkward boy who’d been given a gift by a girl. And Lorelei couldn’t take that away from him.
She sat up and thumped the heel of her hand hard against the steering wheel. “Damn it, Lorelei! Damn you.” Self-loathing washed through her and she welcomed it. Deserved it for the fate she’d resigned her niece to.
On top of it all she’d broken a promise. When she’d left she’d promised Logan the next time she came back she’d have the money. It was one more transgression on her list of things she’d screwed her family on. One more lie.
Logan and Michelle were all she had in the whole world. She couldn’t bear it that she would lose one of them. She’d lost so many people she loved and didn’t know if she’d survive losing another one.
Sitting up, Lorelei wiped her hands over her face and sucked in air. Logan might very well hate her afterward, but he deserved to know.
She stepped from the car and quietly closed the door, then walked to the house. All the windows were dark except Michelle’s. A faint light glowed there from the teddy bear nightlight. But she doubted Logan was asleep.
When Lorelei stepped through the front door she knew her suspicion was right. She heard fabric rustle and saw the shape of her brother move through the darkness toward her. He never slept anymore and she knew it was from all the demons that chased him, cornered him in his sleep. He’d loved Susan more than she’d ever seen anyone love anybody and it was eating him up inside. Instead of getting better, slowly moving through the grief, he seemed to be sinking further into it.
She knew he felt like it was all his fault. Which was so wrong. He couldn’t have known about Susan’s weak heart, Susan hadn’t even known. Not until it was too late. Even when they’d discovered the problem with Susan while Michelle was still in the womb they hadn’t been able to abort her. It was their baby and they’d wanted her to live.
Lorelei cleared her throat and let the truth fall. “I couldn’t do it. I had the chance and I screwed it up. I’m so, so sorry.” Her voice cracked.
His arms came around her and he pulled her close. “Shhh. You didn’t screw up anything, Leelee. I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you. I realized after you left the other day all the burden I’ve put on your shoulders and I’m sorry for it. It’s not right for you to have to miss out on a good life, a happy one.”
“Stop it. You’re not a burden, damn it. You’re my family. I would do anything for you. And I tried. I really did, but in the end I just couldn’t steal from him.”
Logan kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently. His voice was tired and weary and full of love. “You’re a good girl, Leelee. Of course you couldn’t steal from him, no matter how much you might have wanted to. I would have been disappointed in you if you had.”
She sighed into his arms, comforted by his embrace and the use of her childhood nickname. “But what about Michelle’s surgery?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You let me worry about that. I know you love her, but she’s my daughter. I’ve been thinking on something lately that might just work.”
Instantly alert, she raised her head and demanded, “What? You’re not thinking about riding bulls again, are you?” He kept silent and she knew she’d guessed right. She’d suspected as much. “Logan Michael, you can’t afford to go back to rodeoing and have another bull tear into you like Sampson did.”
His sigh was strong enough to part her hair. “Lorelei.”
“Logan.”
“I just don’t see another way. If I can make it to Vegas and win, the pot would be more than enough to pay for Michelle’s surgery and the rest of Susan’s medical bills. I know it’ll be cutting it close, time-wise.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and even if I don’t make Vegas I think I can still scrape together enough for her surgery at least.”
Lorelei felt a new worry settle on her shoulders. “But—”
“No more talk, Lorelei. I’ve made up my mind. We’ve got some time yet before we need to out-and-out panic over Michelle. I’m going to enter some local contests and get ready to take on Cheyenne in July. I’ve been out of the pro circuit since Susan died and I reckon it’s well past time for me to get back in the saddle.”
“You mean the back of a one-ton Brahman bull.” Just one more thing for her to freak out about. Lovely.
Logan patted her back and stepped away. “Hey, you used to love watching me ride.”
That was before he’d almost been mauled to death by a cowboy killer with razor-sharp horns. “Promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want to raise Michelle alone.”
“I promise, string bean.” He ruffled her hair like only an older brother could get away with. “Now get up to bed, you’ve interrupted my reading.”
As soon as she hit the upstairs landing, she headed straight for her niece’s room. As she slipped inside quietly, her heart swelled with tenderness at the sight that greeted her. Flushed from sleep, Michelle sat in the middle of her crib cuddling a teddy bear, her dark hair a tangled mess. When she spotted Lorelei her mouth bowed in a sleepy smile.
Tears came to her eyes as she went to her niece. “It’s late, sweetheart. What are you doing up?”
Big brown eyes looked up at her, innocent and sweet, and broke her heart. Reaching into the crib, Lorelei bundled the little girl in her bright quilt and cradled her in her arms. Leaning her head down, Lorelei inhaled the scent of her shampoo.
Michelle snuggled under the blanket and said, “Rockie.” Then she pointed to the rocking chair in the corner.
“Do you want me to rock you, love?” Lorelei was already headed in that direction and sat on the blue cushioned chair.
She felt Michelle’s head rub against her chest in agreement and started rocking gently back and forth. Her niece snuggled even closer and whispered, “Love, love.”
Lorelei’s heart squeezed painfully as a tear slid down her cheek and her arms tightened. She kissed her baby girl with trembling lips and whispered back, “That’s right, baby. Love, love.” So very much love.
MARK SLOUCHED AGAINST the bus seat and scowled as it traveled through San Jose traffic on its way to the Giants stadium
. A hot ball of confused anger churned in his stomach. He still couldn’t believe it.
Lorelei had left him.
When he’d woke this morning and found his necklace on the bedside table he’d known instantly. But like a fool he’d searched the condo, hoping that she’d turn up in one of the rooms. Hoping that she’d decided to give his necklace back and take a chance at an honest relationship with him.
He should have known better.
Just as she had the first night they’d met, Lorelei had bailed while he was asleep. Only this time she’d put something back, not taken something that didn’t belong to her.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. Hell, his life was back exactly how he liked it. If he wanted to bang some anonymous woman after the game tonight he could. He had no strings holding him down, no girlfriend to answer to, nobody to care about his actions. And especially, no one trying to be his conscience, telling him he was more than he was. He didn’t need any of that crap. He didn’t need Lorelei Littleton and her complications.
In fact it was a good thing she’d left. Now he could get her out of his head and get back to being Mark Cutter. Get back to fast times and faster women. Be just like he was before she’d come crashing into his life with big breasts and bigger problems. Yeah, he could do that.
“Hey, Wall. You ready to rumble tonight?”
Mark turned to Drake and forced a smile. “You know it. First game in a new series—I’m all over that, brother. What about you?”
The first baseman scratched his huge chest and grinned. “I enjoyed some well-deserved R and R with a lusty redhead last night I’m all set.”
Mark smirked. “How’s a guy as ugly as you get so much action?”
“I’m charming,” the veteran said seriously, then laughed. “And I’m loaded.”
Mark’s brow arched. “Ah. Gotcha.”
Someone reached over the seat and slapped his shoulder. He turned to see Kowalskin grinning down at him. “So how’s things going with you and the love of my life? She dump your sorry ass yet?”
Like last week’s garbage, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “It’s going.”
“So she gonna be at the game tonight?” Peter smacked his head when he didn’t answer quickly enough.
Mark whipped around in his seat and snaked a hand out to clock him, but the pitcher moved pretty quick and he missed. “She’s at home, and if you do that again I’m going to thump you. You forget I still owe you for the karaoke, old man. Why do you want to know so much about Lorelei?” It was beginning to piss him off.
The ballplayer grinned and said, “Because I’ve got a serious case of puppy love for your girlfriend.” He ducked out of the way just in time and Mark’s fist glanced off his shoulder. The jerk laughed. “Man, you’ve got it so bad.”
He did not. “I do not, peckerhead.”
“You’re whipped, admit it. That gorgeous brunette has you by the balls.”
He gave Peter the finger and turned around. “I ain’t whipped.” No way. He couldn’t be. Lorelei didn’t have him by the balls.
She wasn’t even around anymore to grab them.
He brooded about that for the next hour, until the team hit the stadium and readied for the game. Then he blocked out everything and went to work.
The game flew by in a tunnel of concentration. Though he had his necklace back, he still played like hell. The team managed to pull off the win, however. 4–3, with the final run scored in the top of the tenth.
After the sports reporters had left and he’d showered, Mark stepped out of the locker room with his duffel slung over the shoulder of his navy suit jacket. A couple of the guys were lingering in the corridor. Brexler motioned to him and he jerked his chin. “What’s up?”
The fielder waggled his thumb at the other guys. “Some of us were just getting ready to head out for something to eat. Want to tag along?”
Maybe. It might be a good diversion—get his mind off Lorelei. “Yeah? Where you headed?”
JP spoke up. “To see boobs.”
Paulson added, “The Frisky Kitten.”
Huh. Topless women, booze, and nachos. Sounded like a dream come true. A real treat.
It sucked that he wasn’t interested.
The guys were all staring at him waiting for his answer. “I think I’m just going to head back to the hotel and grab something from room service.”
Drake eyed him and let out a knowing laugh that made Mark feel like punching him. “Catch you later then.”
He turned, began walking and heard one of them making the sound of a whip cracking. Bastards. He rolled his shoulders and stopped. “Screw it. All right, I’m in.”
He should’ve taken the hotel and room service.
All those gyrating bodies with naked breasts and it turned out he only wanted to see a certain pair of 34Ds topless. It’d taken him less than ten minutes after arriving to discover that lovely little fact. And he’d left, two hours and too many beers later, less than thrilled with what that said about him.
Chapter 21
FOR FOUR DAYS Lorelei kept up pretenses. Smiled and put on a happy face. Played with Michelle and dabbled at a few articles, helped Logan around the ranch. She even started to till the vegetable garden, prepping it for the seedlings she had started on the back porch. On the outside she looked like she was just fine.
Inside she was miserable.
Her brother was returning to riding bulls, she was afraid Michelle was coming down with a cold—which was never good and always terrifying, and she missed Mark. She’d gnaw off her left foot before she’d ever admit to it though.
It was for the best that she’d ended things. She knew that. He had a demanding baseball career, she had gardening articles. It didn’t take looking beyond their jobs to see how very different they were.
Even if he showed up and asked her to take him back she’d say no. It would never work between them. Men like Mark married flashy, exciting women. And women like her settled down with dependable, steady types.
She kept telling herself that as she pushed open the screen door and stepped outside. With Logan and Michelle gone for the day at the doctor for a regular checkup and physical therapy, she’d taken the opportunity to air out the house and clean. While she’d been away Logan had let the laundry pile up, and she’d spent the past few hours washing and folding.
She reached the clothesline and set down the basket full of wet clothes. With a snap of fabric she draped one of her brother’s denim shirts over the line and shook her booty to Aerosmith’s “Dude Looks Like a Lady” as it spilled through the open windows of the house.
Since it was laundry day and seventy degrees of Colorado perfection she had on a baggy sweater and her wash day shorts. They were hot pink cotton short-shorts that barely covered her behind and gave her legs a good tan.
She had to admit it felt good to be home. For a moment Lorelei closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun, let the warm rays wash over her. She stood there enjoying the slight breeze, the happy sound of birds chirping nearby, and the simple joy of hanging laundry on a warm spring day.
The phone rang, startling her. Lorelei hung another shirt before she reached for where it lay on the grass next to the wicker laundry basket. She bent down, her behind wiggling in time to the music, and snatched it up.
She hit the talk button on the cordless and draped a white T-shirt on the line. “Hello?”
“Lorelei?”
She almost dropped the phone. “Mark?”
“I’ve got an issue with you, sweetheart.”
Her heart slammed into her chest. Why was he calling her? She dropped a pair of her wet panties. When she bent to retrieve them she heard him groan into the phone and she asked, “Are you all right? You sound like you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine.
She ignored that because something else occurred to her. “How’d you get my phone number?”
His deep voice growled into the phone, “Don’t chan
ge the subject, Lorelei.”
Her stomach turned to liquid. She distinctly remembered wishing she could talk to him over the phone to hear his voice isolated like that. Now she was and his voice was like sex. Raw, rough, hard. Just like he was.
And what was she doing thinking about him like that anyway? It was over between them.
She grabbed another shirt, hung it, and tried for blasé. “What do you want, Mark?”
“You, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”
Well, that plan was shot to hell. She couldn’t pull off blasé if her life depended on it. Not with his rugged, masculine voice saying things like that to her.
“Do you often pull your hair up on your head with a scarf like Daisy Duke? Did I ever tell you she was my first crush? It does wild things to me that you do your hair like her.”
She frowned at his odd questions. “Sometimes I pull it up with one, yeah. Why are you calling, Mark? You got your lucky charm back.”
His low chuckle sent shivers down her spine. “I’ve been thinking about you, fantasizing about you in a skimpy pair of hot pink shorts. Makes me want to take a bite out of you. Would you want that, Lorelei? Do you want me to eat you?” His voice had dropped to a hot whisper by the time he’d finished.
Of course she did. That was part of the problem. Being eaten by Mark Cutter was as addictive as a drug and she was an addict. She needed AA. Hello, I’m Lorelei Littleton and I’m addicted to Mark Cutter’s spectacular mouth.
But he didn’t need to know that. “Not particularly.”
His laugh came through the phone and she felt her lips twitch in response. He had the best sense of humor.
“Be that way, then. But I’m wise to you, honey. So, question: What do you think about squirrels?”
Squirrels? What in the world? “In what context?”
“Cute or menace.”
Lorelei contemplated and snapped another shirt, shaking out the wrinkles. “Cute, I suppose. Why do you ask?”
“Look around.”
She spun and looked down, a gasp stuck in her throat. Sure enough, there was a fat, brown squirrel rifling through the wet laundry. She took a step forward and it leaped from her basket, dragging a pair of her wet underwear with it. The rodent raced, tail twitching, toward the nearest tree. Lorelei dropped the phone and dashed after it. What the hell was wrong with that animal? Somebody needed to tell it that squirrels collected nuts, not Fruit Of The Looms.
Stealing Home: A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel Page 19