All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids)

by Freethy, Barbara

  "I know. I'm not the best example for this situation. Maybe I'll call Claire and get her to talk to David. She might be able to get through to him."

  "You're a good brother, Matt. One day I'm sure you'll be a good father and not just a surrogate father."

  A strange look flitted through his eyes. "I don't know about that," he muttered.

  "What do you mean?" she asked, surprised by his words.

  "I don't know if I want to have kids."

  "Really? But you're so connected to your family."

  "Exactly. I'm too connected. In some ways, I already feel like I raised a family or that I'm still raising them, and I'm not doing that good of a job."

  "But these are your siblings. Your kids would be yours. You'd be there from the beginning."

  "I was there for the beginning of my siblings' lives," he argued.

  "But you were a little kid. Connor is only three years younger. Of course he's not going to listen to you. And David and Claire see you as their brother, not their dad. They had a dad, apparently a really good one."

  "He was good, but I told you that David doesn't even remember him. I try to keep him alive in everyone's memories, but as time goes on, it's not that easy."

  She liked that he tried to keep his dad alive. And she liked how much he cared about his brothers and sister and mom. But she didn't really like the thought of him not wanting kids.

  Not that it should matter to her. She wasn't going to be his wife. She wasn't going to have to worry about that decision. Still…

  "Don't you think you'd miss out if you didn't have children of your own?" she asked.

  "Like I said, I've done a lot of the parenting stuff." He paused. "It sounds like you really want kids, Julie."

  "I do. I love children. And I was an only child, so I was always jealous of people who had big families. Not that I wasn't spoiled with attention from my mom, but it would have been nice to have a sibling, especially after my dad left. So, yes, I do want kids some day. I'm not in a hurry. But I work with a lot of kids, and I just know that at some point in my life, I'm going to want a family." She paused, thinking that their opposing feelings about kids were just another reason why she and Matt had no future together. That thought shouldn't have been as depressing as it was. "So what now?" she asked. "I think you promised me dinner somewhere."

  "I did." He straightened in his chair, pulling himself out of the contemplative mood he'd sunk into. "But I have to confess something first."

  "What's that?" she asked warily.

  "David isn't the only one I'm ambushing tonight. My friend Gary and his wife invited us to dinner, and they live about fifteen minutes from here."

  "You want me to go to dinner with your friends?"

  "I had dinner with your friends."

  "Then why be cagey about it? Wait. Gary—is that Gary Hartman, the Cougars' all-star centerfielder?"

  "That would be the one," he admitted. "Gary and Connie have been friends of mine for a long time. I'd love for you to meet them, but there will be baseball talk. I could say there wouldn't be, but I'd be lying. With spring training starting in a week, it's going to come up. If you don't want to go, I will call them and beg off."

  "That would be rude. You should have told me, Matt. You claim to be an honest person, but you didn't act that way tonight."

  "I know. I just didn't want you to say no, and I figured once we got there—"

  "I'd cave," she finished.

  "I can drive you back to the city. It's not really that big of a deal. I'll see them another night."

  "No, I'll go with you," she said. Getting involved with Matt's baseball life wasn't her first choice, but she could handle it, and deep down she was a little curious to meet his friends. "But you're going to owe me, Matt."

  "I'm sure I will," he said with a grin. "Just let me know when you want to collect."

  "I will definitely do that."

  * * *

  As Matt rang the bell at the Hartman's two-story house, Julie felt a little nervous, and she didn't really know why. It shouldn't matter what the Hartmans thought of her. She'd probably never see them again after tonight.

  Matt gave her a smile and slipped his hands into hers, squeezing her fingers. "They're going to love you. And I think you'll enjoy them, too."

  "Are you reading my mind?"

  "Maybe just your tension."

  The door opened, and Julie found herself looking at a petite busty woman with dark red hair that fell down to her waist and a pair of curious brown eyes. After introductions, Connie gave Matt a hug and then turned to Julie.

  "It's so nice to meet you, Julie. Come in." She grabbed Julie's hand and pulled her into the house. "Gary is getting the barbecue going. Why don't you help him, Matt? Julie and I will get acquainted."

  "Julie?" Matt questioned, a gleam of concern in his eyes.

  "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about dinner if you're going to be helping Gary cook," she said lightly.

  Both Connie and Matt laughed. Connie looked at Matt. "I see she knows how good you are in the kitchen."

  "Unfortunately, she does."

  "Well, Gary can grill. What he can't seem to do is get the propane tank hooked up to the new barbecue."

  "I'm on it," Matt said, as he headed down the hall.

  "Let's go into the kitchen," Connie said. "I'll get you some wine, and you can tell me how you met Matt."

  "As long as I get the wine first, I'm happy to answer questions."

  "A girl after my own heart."

  Connie led Julie into a beautiful gourmet kitchen.

  "Wow, this is amazing," she said, looking around at the endless granite countertops and sparkling appliances.

  "I designed it myself," Connie said proudly. "We've spent the last year redoing the house and we're finally done—just in time, too. Red or white wine?"

  "Red is fine. In time for what?" she asked as Connie poured her a glass of wine.

  Connie's eyes sparkled. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything until later, but I'm pregnant."

  "That's wonderful. Congratulations."

  "We're really excited. I'm not quite three months yet, and I shouldn't be shouting it to the rooftops, but I can't seem to stay quiet about it. Have a seat," she said, waving Julie toward one of the stools at the counter. "We can chat while I finish the salad. I have to tell you that I was really surprised when Matt told me he was bringing a woman to meet us. He hasn't introduced us to anyone in a couple of years. How did you two meet?"

  "I work for the California Children's Foundation. I asked Matt to participate in our Celebrity Cook-Off next Sunday."

  "So you're the one who got him to do that. Matt insisted that Gary and I buy tickets. How could we resist? The idea of Matt cooking in front of a crowd is just too incredible to pass up." Connie paused. "But since I now know you know he can't cook, what on earth is he going to make?"

  "I taught him how to make scallops and risotto. I think he can replicate it, but we'll see. The hotel banquet kitchen has the recipe, and they'll be providing the food for everyone but the contest judges, so at the very least Matt will not poison the entire room."

  "Thank goodness for that," Connie said, as she sliced some tomatoes and threw them into a salad. "So are you two a couple?"

  "I wouldn't say that. We're…" She actually did not know how to finish the sentence. "Friends," she finished somewhat weakly.

  Connie shot her a look that told her she wasn't buying that for a second. "Matt said you were important."

  "Really? That's the word he used."

  "It is, and I think I was as shocked when I heard him say it as you are now. Do you feel the same way about him?"

  "I honestly don't know how I feel about him. I don't know if Matt mentioned to you that I'm not exactly a baseball fan."

  "He did. He told us that you're Jack Michaels' daughter, and we know that your father divorced your mother."

  "He didn't just divorce her; he cheated on her."

  "I'm sorry. I
'd kill Gary if he did that to me."

  "Do you worry about it?" Julie asked, genuinely curious. "There are a lot of women hanging around the ballpark."

  "Sure there are," Connie said easily. "But I trust Gary. We've been together for ten years. I knew him when he was a nobody. We've grown up together."

  "That probably helps," she said, sipping her wine. "You started out at the same place." Although, that hadn't helped her parents. They hadn't just grown up together; they'd also grown apart.

  "It's harder for the guys who are already rich and famous to know who's being real with them," Connie said. "I know Matt has had a hard time with that."

  "I'm not sure I'd call being surrounded by supermodels a hard time," she said dryly.

  Connie grinned. "I like you, Julie. And I'm starting to see why Matt likes you, too. You're not overly impressed with his celebrity. That's a change for him."

  "He takes it as a challenge. He's determined to make me change my mind about baseball players."

  "That sounds like it could be fun. There's nothing like a man determined to show you a good time. I hope you make him work for it."

  Julie smiled. "And now I'm beginning to see why Matt likes you so much. Tell me how you and Gary met."

  "I was his chemistry tutor in college. Eventually, I started tutoring him in other things—like how to treat a woman. He was a very good student. He got an A in chemistry and an A with me. We started going out, and we were pretty much inseparable after that. I was with Gary when he got drafted and through the first three years in the minors where he was continually being moved from team to team. There was a time there when neither one of us was sure he was going to make it, but eventually the Cougars called him up, and he's been there the last seven years. Baseball has been good to us. I don't know how long that will last, but we try to stay in the moment. That's all anyone can do right? None of us can predict the future."

  "That's true," she said slowly, wondering if living in the moment was something common to ballplayers. Maybe knowing their careers would be short made every day more important.

  "Can I top off your wine?" Connie inquired, reaching for the bottle on the counter.

  Julie shook her head. She needed to keep her wits about her. She was already feeling much too comfortable in the cozy kitchen.

  The outside door suddenly burst open, and Matt ran into the room with a huge grin on his face.

  Gary had obviously imparted the good news.

  Matt reached for Connie and gave her a hug. "Congratulations! I can't believe it. This time next year there will be little Hartmans running around."

  "Make that little Hartman, singular, please," Connie commanded, extricating herself from Matt's arms with a laugh.

  "I can't believe it," Matt continued. "You two are going to be parents. Your life is definitely going to change."

  "In a good way," Connie said.

  "Sure, if you consider getting up three times a night and changing diapers a good time," Gary teased.

  She playfully slugged her husband in the arm. "You'll love every minute of it. And I don't think you've said hello to Julie yet."

  Gary gave her a sheepish smile as he came over to say hello. "I am sorry about that. Matt was helping me get the barbecue going and then I had to tell him the big news. Happy you could join us tonight, Julie."

  "Me, too, and congratulations."

  "Thanks. Are the steaks ready for the grill?" he asked Connie.

  She tipped her head toward the platter on the counter. "They're all yours. I need to run upstairs for a minute. I'll be right back."

  As Gary took the steaks out to the grill, Matt came over to Julie. "Sorry to desert you like that."

  "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I like your friends."

  Matt perched on the stool next to hers. "I'm really glad about that." He rested his hands on her thighs. "You're becoming very important to me, Julie." His green eyes darkened with emotion. "I want you to know that."

  "I feel the same way," she said softly, her nerves tingling as he repeated what Connie had already told her. "I don't really want to, you know?"

  His mouth spread into a slow smile. "I know. Don't fight it, sweetheart."

  "That's not very good advice. I should fight it. You should, too. We're really different people, Matt. Baseball aside, we don't want the same things."

  "The only thing I want right now is another kiss."

  "Gary and Connie could come back at any second," she protested.

  "Then we better do this fast."

  He cupped her face with his hands. His kiss was warm, tender, promising. Her lips parted and she swiped her tongue across his lips.

  Matt groaned and pulled her closer, prolonging the kiss until they were breathless. Shaken by the explosive passion of what was meant to be a lighthearted kiss, they simply stared at each other for a long moment, and then Matt blew out a breath. "I would love to get you out of here and finish what we just started."

  "We can't leave. We haven't had dinner yet." And she could not finish what they'd just started, so maybe that was a good thing.

  "You're right." Matt stood up. He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's help Gary with the barbecue. We both need some air."

  She wished that was all she needed.

  Chapter Ten

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. Matt and Gary had first met in the minors, and they had hundreds of stories to tell about their experiences back then and another hundred to tell about their recent years with the Cougars. They were roommates on the road, so they were about as close as any two players could be. Once in a while, Matt offered her an apologetic glance and tried to steer the conversation away from baseball, but within minutes they would be right back where they started.

  Julie was surprisingly interested and entertained by their stories. While some of their experiences brought back memories from her past, they didn't sting as much as they used to. And it was different to hear about baseball as an adult and not as a kid. She had a different perspective now.

  She also liked how humble both Matt and Gary were. They really didn't take their talent or their good fortune for granted. They knew they were only as good as their last game and that every at bat was the start of something new. They were both really good and could certainly live off some glory days, but they didn't. They also had a genuine love of the game, which reminded her of her father, because he had loved baseball with all of his heart. She couldn't really blame him for that—just for everything else.

  Her father had gotten caught up in his fame. He'd started to believe the world should revolve around him. She didn't get the same vibe from Matt or from Gary. In fact, watching Gary and Connie together, she saw an equal relationship, a loving, teasing partnership, and it was clear that they were madly in love with each other. She suspected that was partly why Matt had brought her to dinner. He wanted her to see a baseball relationship that was good and that was working.

  Finally calling the evening to an end just before ten, they said their goodbyes, got in the car and headed back to San Francisco.

  "Well?" Matt asked about ten minutes into their quiet drive.

  She gave him a smile. "It was fun. Connie and Gary are great. They're down-to-earth, really good people."

  Her words put a smile on his face. "I thought you'd like them. I can't believe they're going to have a kid. This time next year there will be a baby." He shook his head in bemusement. "Gary acts more like a kid than an adult most of the time."

  "Then he'll be able to relate to his child really well. It will be more difficult for Connie. She'll be the one holding things together while Gary is playing."

  "I know it can be hard on the wives," Matt admitted. "But the Cougars are a family team. They try to offer as much help as they can to the families. I know a lot of the women are friends and support each other."

  "Connie mentioned that. She said some of them play softball together in the off-season and
make the guys watch the kids."

  "I forgot about that." He gave her a quick, curious look. "Did you ever play?"

  "Yes, of course. I was my father's daughter, after all. I started when I was about seven and played until I was thirteen. I was good, too."

  "What position did you play?"

  "Early on I was a pitcher, because no one else could actually get the ball near the plate, and my father was a pitcher, so I thought it was cool to have his position. But I didn't really like that fast pitch motion. It hurt my arm. So I moved over to shortstop."

  He turned and met her gaze. "My position?"

  "Well, you're not the only shortstop in the world," she said with a laugh. "I was good at grounders, and I could throw pretty hard. My dad had made sure that I did not throw like a girl."

  "He must have been proud of you."

  "He hardly ever made it to a game. Maybe a half-dozen times in all those years."

  "Sorry."

  She shrugged. "It was just the way it was. I didn't hold it against him back then. I accepted his life; it was the only life I'd ever known. I respected that he was doing his job. But later, after everything went to hell, I realized that he hadn't always been working when he was away from home. Sometimes he was on a week-long fishing trip or hiking in the mountains or biking to Mexico with his friends. He was a very active man. And the off-season got shorter and shorter. He would head to spring training weeks before it actually started. I guess those were all signs of his discontent and trouble in the marriage, but I was a kid, so I didn't know. I didn't pick up on the signals."

  "Your mother should have?"

  "Well, they did fight a lot, so I guess she suspected something was wrong." She drew in a breath and let it out. "Anyway, it was all a long time ago. I haven't thought this much about those days in a very long time, but meeting you brought it all back."

  "Sorry about that."

  She shrugged. "It's not your fault."

  "I'm glad you've finally admitted that."

  She ignored his comment. "Don't forget we need to stop at the ballpark so I can get my car."