The sound of laughter reverberated down the hall. Obviously, Grace Ann had charmed her parents into immediate forgiveness. Maybe she had used lipstick instead of nail polish this time. By the time she reached the pale pink door at the end of the hall, her curiosity was piqued. Poking her head into the open doorway, she almost lost her balance.
“Holy tartar sauce. What did your little angel do?”
Three guilty heads dropped at the sound of her voice.
A half a dozen pictures of Abby dotted the wall behind Gracie’s bed. Small blobs of what looked like mascara obliterated all other faces in the photos.
Kevin eyed her warily. “Gracie got her hot little hands on pictures from the party. Plastered your likeness, with craft glue, to her wall.”
Abby moved closer to the bed. It took her a moment to realize floating limbs and missing hands, actually belonged to Mark and Nick. Talk about symbolism. A look of expectation, mixed with love, shone in Gracie’s eyes.
“Am I still your best friend?” Gracie asked, spreading her arms for a hug.
“Honey, you are not only my best friend, but an artist to boot.” Bending at the knees, Abby lifted her niece off of the floor. “Feel like sharing a juice box? I could really use a drink right now.”
Lifting her foot off the gas, Abby approached her block with renewed trepidation. Cindy was persistent and just enough of a loose nut to linger in her daughter’s driveway until the sun came up. When the thin ribbon of her driveway finally came into view, Abby heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Images of a hot shower and a date with her electric toothbrush replaced a vision of her mother reciting a dramatic monologue.
Slipping into the narrow stall of her shower with a fresh bar of lavender soap, Abby increased the pressure and heat of the spray until her limbs felt numb. Tomorrow was the final day of class for her summer students and the final home game before the Bisons hit the road once again. She could do with a break from six o’clock wake-up calls and Nick Valente in form-fitting baseball pants.
Abby turned off the spray, grabbed a towel, and mercilessly wrung the excess water from her hair. Taking a second towel, she padded her skin gently, smoothed scented lotion from head to toe, and sauntered back to her bedroom.
Rummaging through an overstuffed drawer of mismatched pajamas, she finally settled on a hot pink tank top and a pair of lime green bottoms. The soft peal of her doorbell caused her to trip on the right leg of her pajama bottoms, which had caught around her ankle. With her butt now flat on the floor, she wriggled into the clingy cotton pants and pushed herself back into a standing position.
It was ten after nine. Too late for an unannounced visitor. Since she had no peephole, and felt awkward asking for a name first, Abby uttered a prayer and pulled her front door open. Her mouth went dry and her brain froze. Nick stood on her doorstep, dangling her work identification badge from his outstretched hand.
“Found this in Kevin’s driveway. Figured it must have fallen from your car.”
She must have hesitated a second too long because an awkward smile replaced Nick’s initial grin.
“Is my showing up here a problem?” Nick shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
Abby crossed her arms in front of her chest. A tank top, no bra and a breathtaking man on her stoop were a recipe for disaster.
“Of course not,” Abby stuttered. “Just a little surprised that you could track me down.”
Nick’s eyes took on a devilish glint. “Hold on to your knickers, but this big dumb athlete can actually read.”
The meaning of his words sunk in immediately. Duh. Her address was on the back of her Norfolk College badge. Finding her house hadn’t required detective work on his part, just a third-grade education.
“Are you going to invite me in or force me to ogle your supreme makeover out here?”
A wave of embarrassment washed over her. Abby’s home was modest. The fact that her entire living space could fit comfortably into Bridget’s garage almost had her sending him on his way. She loved every square inch of her cottage, but had spent so much time around people like her parents and Bridget that she couldn’t deny her discomfort.
Abby stepped back, allowing Nick to enter her living room. His silence only added to her unease. Without permission he moved silently from the wall behind her couch to her connecting kitchen. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t resist the sight of his powerful shoulders and jean-clad butt as he studied her space.
“Again, you surprise me, McCabe,” Nick said, retracing his steps back to her living room.
“Well, I unloaded the mansion last year. The high ceilings were a bitch to dust.”
Nick shifted, leaving only inches between them. “What I meant was that for a person plagued by fashion woes, I never expected you to have kick-ass taste when it came to home decorating.”
Talk about surprises. Most first-time visitors had decidedly mixed feelings about her life-size murals. Not that she created the scenes. No the art was pure José, the Bisons’ second baseman. Together they had collaborated on bringing color and life to her personal space. Since it was a cottage, Abby had chosen her favorite beach scenes as inspiration. Undulating sand dunes with tufts of sea grass and a peek of the ocean covered the main wall in her living room. Her eating nook revealed a boardwalk café with bathing suit clad patrons soaking in the summer sun. Cindy took umbrage with the amount of skin revealed. Claimed it gave her indigestion just to look at it.
Abby pinned him with a haughty look. “You’re sweeping me off my feet here, with your flowery compliments.”
The heat in his eyes had warmth spreading through the region of her abdomen. “You want to be wooed by the likes of me, McCabe?”
Alarm bells rang out. That was a trick question. One she didn’t want to think about, never mind answer. When his eyes dipped below her face, resting on her unrestrained breasts, her throat tightened. She wore a C cup, which decency demanded be reigned in with a bra. Of course, she hadn’t exactly been expecting company. Her mother would have made her toss on a trench coat.
“Actually, Valente, you don’t strike me as the type who is going to put much effort in when it comes to a woman. You know, snap your fingers and see who comes running.”
He lowered his hand and rested it on her now exposed hipbone. “Is that a challenge? ’Cause I got to tell you, I’m more than ready to rise to the occasion.”
Before she could think, never mind respond, he leaned in and lowered his mouth to hers. She froze for a moment, surprised that she didn’t feel the spark that often flared with a first kiss. She should have known that it would be different. Nick would be different. The brush of his lips ignited a devastating ache. She closed her eyes, ignored the hammering in her heart and let him devour her with his warm mouth. The taste of beer, barbeque sauce and an aroused Nick washed over her and she immediately wanted more.
Nick didn’t disappoint. His hands traveled lower, cupped the curve of her ass, and pulled her flush against his hips. She arched her back, eager to find release for the pressure that continued to build between them. When his hands dipped beneath her tank top, slid up her stomach and gently palmed her breasts, Abby lost the ability to think.
She laced her fingers behind his neck, silently encouraging him to continue exploring. When his gaze lifted, she saw hunger and something close to regret in his eyes. Instinct had her pulling back.
It took more than a moment for either one of them to recover. Not that his body had recovered yet. The proof of that rested just below his belt buckle.
“I’m really good at making mistakes,” Nick said, resting his chin on the top of her head. “That was probably a big one.”
Abby tried to ignore the sting of his unexpected arrow. The fact that his words mirrored her thoughts didn’t lessen the bite. She twisted away from his loose embrace.
“Shot my own theory to hell,” Abby said, working overtime at keeping her voice steady. “You didn’t even have to snap your fingers to get this girl
to fall all over you.”
Nick winced. “Don’t,” he ground out. “The mistake was taking what I wanted without care for the consequences.”
That confused her. He had to know she was an active and willing participant.
“You’re the worst kind of temptation, McCabe.” His hands took hold of her hips. “And my track record at self-restraint, frankly, sucks.”
Abby ignored the urge to bite the corner of his lower lip in an effort to get him to kiss her again.
“I’m comfortable with the just once to get it out of our system excuse, Nick.” She moved her hands and clasped them around his wrists, slowly easing them away from her body. “It was nice, not spectacular, so now we can both move on.”
His mouth tightened. “Maybe I need to work on my technique. Because what your mouth did to my body was pretty damn spectacular.”
She blushed, hating the effect a few words had on her sanity. “That line rolled rather effortlessly off your tongue. I’m guessing you’ve put it to good use before.”
A grim expression took over his features. “I meant what I said. I’m going to owe a lot of sleepless nights to those sweet lips of yours. But right now I’m not willing to be the man who lives down to your expectations about relationships.”
“Mind translating that statement?”
“Abby, my personal life doesn’t make me prime boyfriend material.”
She couldn’t hold back a small smile. Boyfriend material. Somehow she had imagined his interest would have fallen into a casual relationship that fed his need for a warm body in bed. The fact that his words implied something deeper than that was strange consolation.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“I think swapping spit makes that a non-question, McCabe.”
Abby tried to focus on an object over Nick’s shoulder. She was nervous, not sure if she was prepared for the answer she sought.
“Are you still married? I know you don’t wear a ring, and it’s not my business. But the thought of kissing a man who was legally tied…”
One finger pressed against her mouth. “Take a breath. My marriage is over. Legally and physically my ties to Alyssa are cut.”
Now she was even more puzzled. If he wasn’t tied down to another woman, what exactly was the problem?
“That doesn’t mean things aren’t still messy. There are still things between me and my ex-wife that make it difficult to move on right now.”
He just tied her brain up like a pretzel. Abby hadn’t a single clue what he was and was not saying about his personal life—other than the fact that he had no intention of pursuing anything with her. She got that part.
“Gotcha,” she said, stepping far enough away to avoid any further touching.
He ran one hand through the back of his hair. “Abby, it’s complicated. I’m not sure how to explain…”
This time she interrupted him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. It was one kiss, not a lifetime promise.” A small fear took root in her muddled brain. “Can I ask one favor?”
His posture changed to one of alert. “Sure.” Nick slipped his hands into his front pockets.
“Let’s keep tonight’s small transgression just between the two of us. I’d prefer it if Kevin and Bridget didn’t know.”
“What about Mark? If you’re aiming for a second chance with him, I should probably be discreet there as well.”
Abby wanted to believe there was jealousy laced in that statement. The reality was more likely territorial grandstanding. Tonight she was too tired to play that game.
“Nah, Mark isn’t a particular concern for me. But for the sake of ease let’s just not mention it to anybody. Okay?”
He shrugged. “Works for me.”
When his phone rang later that night, he wanted to believe it was Abby. Maybe she was ready to get some other things out of her system as well. He could think of more than a few things he would like to try once with her. Problem being that once wouldn’t begin to scratch the itch he had for her.
The voice on the other end was about as far removed from Abby as he could imagine.
“Hi, Nick. I hope it’s not too late.”
Her tentative words told him she was having another bad day. Not that she had any other kind of day lately.
He sucked in a breath, trying to mentally switch gears. “I’m awake. How are you holding up?”
“I’m not sure anyone is listening to my prayers anymore.” A harsh laugh punctuated her statement.
Nick had no answers for her. “Alyssa, when you’re ready to make a change, I’ll help you any way I can.”
“That’s just it, Nick. When the hell am I going to smarten up?”
He wanted to climb through the phone lines and kick her ass. “He’s not going to leave Monica for you. Ever. He’ll ruin you first.”
A quiet sob was her only response.
“Honey, I’m not saying that to hurt your feelings. I’m worried about you. Paul has played this game before. The son of a bitch always comes out on top.”
“He knows you hate him,” Alyssa said between hiccups. “Says he looks forward to the day he meets you in hell.”
Nick hoped only one of them headed in that direction when their time on earth was up. “Al, I don’t give a crap what Paul feels about me. I’m not the one who ignored a wedding band on someone’s finger.”
“Will there ever come a day when you’re going to hate me as much as I hate myself? My own mother won’t return my calls.”
Nick’s heart cracked a little more. It seemed unwise to tell Alyssa that pity for her would always surpass hate in his heart.
“Listen,” Nick said. “I promise, one day you are going to figure out a way to forgive yourself. If I could get you to that place I would.”
She laughed. “Have you been in counseling? You sound way too evolved for the man I married.”
“Alyssa, I made mistakes too. You’re not holding them over my head at every turn, are you?”
“Oh, we both know mine were on the scale of King Kong. Missing the hamper can’t quite measure up.”
Nick had been down this verbal road more times than he could count. Tonight he was going to change the subject.
“Do you remember when I asked you what it was about Paul that was different?”
She sighed softly. “Yeah.”
Nick crossed over to his sliding glass door, hoping fresh air would clear his mind. “I think I finally understand how you got sucked in. It makes sense in a way it didn’t before.”
“I’m sorry, Nick, but I need to sit down.”
“Cripes you’re still a pain in the ass. Forget what I said.”
Nick couldn’t remember the last time he heard her giggle. It was worth baring a tiny bit of his soul.
“I’ll behave,” Alyssa said. “Tell me about her.”
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. She is just a friend that I happened to kiss for the first time tonight.” Damn, he sounded like an eighth grader.
“Since when do you make a habit of kissing friends?”
Nick stepped out on his patio, trying to suck in enough fresh air to carry him through this weird conversation.
“Truth is she’s a friend that I would love to get my hands on. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
The voice on the other end faded, barely audible. “Because of me?”
Nick cleared his throat. “Yes and no. The fact is, not many people know we’re not together anymore. There are reasons to keep it that way.”
“Can’t you just keep a low profile?”
He hated to admit that he had thought about it. Unfortunately, it would involve a lot of explaining and a lot of complications. He didn’t want to subject Abby to a microscope or potential gossip.
A dull throb assaulted his temples. “She deserves more than that, Alyssa.”
“It sounds like you’re already half way in love with this woman.”
Nick refused to even think along those lines. “O
nly a woman could make the illogical leap from a single kiss to love.”
“Stop,” she demanded. “Save your breath and your integrity by not protesting too much.”
Nick didn’t like being on the receiving end of advice, especially when the giver was, by the kindest accounts, a complete mess. He looked around the enormous grounds of his rental property, trying to imagine Abby comfortable in such a setting. He didn’t like the image, preferring to see her surrounded by white-washed floors and ocean landscapes.
“For now she is going to stay a friend,” Nick said. “At least I’m hoping. Maybe some day, that will change.”
Alyssa sighed. “We’re quite a pair, Nick. I chase the impossible and you run as fast as you can when the possible stands with willing lips right in front of you.”
Nick turned his gaze upward. For the fist time in twenty years he actually found himself wishing upon a star.
Chapter Four
Abby turned her window air conditioner off. She put all of her weight behind lifting her only other bedroom window up as far as it would go. Tonight was the first sign that fall was tapping at the door. Tomorrow August would arrive and soon the baseball season would give way to football. Her heart belonged to the former but she earned a portion of her income from the latter. For four years she had been responsible for the generation of a weekly report card, grading everyone from the quarterback down to the defensive coach. Since she was female and honest rather than kind with her commentary, the paper implied that several staff members penned the weekly piece. Abby guarded that secret, telling only Bridget and Kevin. It always made her laugh when her dad heaped praise on the column. No doubt that praise would diminish significantly had he known his only daughter was the journalist responsible.
The Catcher and the Lie Page 5