The Catcher and the Lie

by Rita Oberlies

  “Ready to hear more?” Nick said, as he brushed his hand along the nape of her neck.

  The distraction worked, because without thinking Abby nodded.

  “Well, this is a first for me. And if my prayers are answered also a last…”

  Abby sighed. “Nice lead in. After what you’ve already shared, I’m not sure my stomach can take any more.”

  “Yeah, well maybe next time you’ll think twice before buying a house on Peyton Place.” He pushed his chair forward, leaving her no room to wriggle away. “Ah, Eva and Jessica ought to have a warning sign, like they use for pesticide spray. You know hazardous materials on site.”

  Abby had never actually met the mother and daughter who occupied the last house in the cul-de-sac. An occasional sighting told her they were both blonde, well endowed and heavily into cut-off jeans. If Mrs. Lofton hadn’t spent so much time fussing with her kiddie pools, Abby would have automatically accompanied Nick on his last stop.

  “What happened?” Abby said, shifting angrily in her seat.

  “Okay,” Nick said. “Just remember to channel your anger in the right direction.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Well, in the ten minutes I was there, both women managed to proposition me. Separately, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The daughter, who can’t be more than nineteen, went as far as to suggest that I send you off on an errand. Apparently she thought hooking up in your home was a better option than seducing me with Mommy dearest close by.”

  “I’ll be out of here in a jiffy,” Abby said dryly. “Let me grab some fresh sheets for the bed first.”

  Nick stood, pushed his chair aside, and leaned down next to her. “Not so fast, though I appreciate your gracious offer. See, I told her that during the season I have strict rules when it comes to women.”

  “Um…a stud with standards.”

  His smile turned dark. “Stud? Hell, wait until you see me in action.”

  “Wait,” Abby said. “Remember your rules.”

  “Don’t worry. You might pass the test.”

  “I hope this special feeling never passes.” Abby fanned her face with a paper napkin.

  “I told Jessica I had a rule about only sleeping with women who could recite the names of all players inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame.”

  “Chronological or alphabetical order?”

  “I’m easy.” Nick shrugged.

  “No doubt. But still, I’m guessing that makes you, well…pretty much a born-again virgin.”

  “Yeah, but I think my luck is about to change.”

  Abby reached up, ran her fingers along the strong line of his jaw. “Damn. I knew that encyclopedia of football legends was a waste of time. Maybe next year, hot stuff.”

  He reached down, grabbed her wrists, and pulled her upright. His hands cupped the soft curve of her behind, drawing her against him from chest to thighs.

  “That leaves me with a big problem.” Nick rolled his hips in a small circular motion.

  “So modest. Most guys would blather on about their enormous problem.”

  Nick’s fingers traced the outline of her thong, rubbing the soft cotton of her dress against nearly bare skin.

  “Why ruin your fun? You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Too much confidence is not necessarily a good thing.”

  “Don’t worry, McCabe. I have the goods to back it up.”

  Abby shook her head. “Please…give me a moment to gag.”

  Nick ignored her theatrics, lifting her dress slowly up past her thighs. “My situation hasn’t changed much, Abby. If I were more decent I would probably tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than me.”

  Abby tried to appreciate his honesty. If her heart wasn’t about to pound out of her chest and her knees weren’t about to buckle, she might have spent more time thinking about the future and not just the next few hours.

  “Hold that thought, Valente,” Abby said, as she slowly turned away, moving down the hall. “Aaron. Alexander. Alston. Anderson…”

  The sound of Nick’s laughter sent a tingle up her spine. “Tell me you don’t actually know all two hundred and eighty members of the Hall of Fame.”

  Her pace quickened, until she reached her bedroom. “It’s been a long time, so I might be a little rusty.”

  “If you’re talking inductees, I can’t help you. If you’re talking technique, I’m your man.”

  She smiled. Instead of anxiety she was gripped with anticipation. That was new and unexpected. Her decision to sleep with Tyler had been wrapped around expectations. While she didn’t regret the intimacy, it hadn’t fulfilled her in the way that she had hoped. After waiting twenty-six years to take that step it had been scary and sweet, but not soul shattering.

  Her heart told her today would be different. Tyler had been a committed relationship with the promise of a long future. Nick was none of those things. The lack of pressure gave her clarity. She wanted Nick. Not because it was the natural step in an ongoing relationship. Not because it would please her parents or friends. Not to fill a void or wipe away bad memories.

  “We can stop,” Nick said, eyeing her warily. “I won’t cry foul if you have second thoughts.”

  Abby silenced him with her lips. She started with a gentle kiss on the mouth, before moving to the rougher skin along his jaw. Her teeth and tongue explored the column of his throat, nipping and licking a trail down to his shoulder. Slipping her hands under the hem of his T-shirt she traced the wall of muscle that lined his chest. Moving her palms higher, she pushed, sending him sprawling across her bed.

  “Too late.” She straddled his stomach. “You’re mine.”

  Without warning, he flipped her, trapping her beneath the heat of his body. Only his smile remained soft. “If this is rusty, I can’t wait to see you after a few practice rounds.”

  Her fingers clutched the waistband of his sweats, slowly tugging them past his hips. Twisting beneath his weight, she slid them lower, sinking her hands into the warm flesh of his thighs.

  “Whoa, slow down,” Nick said, lifting up onto his knees. He used his hands to rid her of her dress. It took a long time before his eyes reached her face. “We can do fast and furious next time. Right now I want to enjoy the scenery.”

  Sensory overload claimed her memory of the next few minutes. Scraps of clothing were quickly discarded as his tongue leisurely explored her body, lingering in places that left her weak and gasping. At the ripe old age of twenty-nine, Abby finally understood what all the fuss was about. She giggled. Unfortunately that brought the man currently worshiping her breasts to an abrupt halt.

  “Uh oh,” Nick said, locking his elbows in place. “Hear that? That’s the sound of my ego shattering.”

  She reached up, capturing his mouth in a slow, wet kiss. Locking her legs around his hips, she silently pleaded for more. Adjusting his position slightly only increased her anticipation.

  Her breathing hitched and her heart hiccupped. Blocking out unexpected emotions, she worked at keeping it light. “Want me to stroke your er…ego, Valente?”

  “Hold that thought,” he said, retrieving his wallet from the pocket of his discarded pants.

  “Are you sure you weren’t a Boy Scout?”

  “No ma’am. But I adopted their motto.” The soft brush of stubble tickled the skin along her hip. “Being prepared is a rule I never break.”

  Abby didn’t want to dwell on how practiced he was in seduction. Living in the moment meant ignoring his past. As his head dipped lower that task became easier.

  He set the pace and her body instinctively responded. His hands cupped her bottom, tilted her hips and shattered her control. Soft words and gentle kisses proved more powerful than his thrusts. It was more than she expected and more than she was prepared to handle. When they finally collapsed in exhaustion, Abby turned, nestling her back against the curve of his body. When his breathi
ng relaxed in sleep, she gently freed herself from the arm clutched under her breast.

  Intimacy with Nick would be a mistake. Fun was fine. People did this every day. Maybe it was time she learned how.

  Nick fought the urge to block her retreat. The moment she rolled away, the hammering in his heart returned. He silently watched her wrestle with the twisted sheet bunched around her calves. He recognized the signs. He was no stranger to post-coital panic. Too many times he followed the urge and left. In those days it had been about sex. Nothing personal. Nothing permanent.

  The second he touched Abby, he knew the rules had changed. At least for him. This wasn’t going to be a “feel good” fling. Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was his failed marriage. Or maybe it was simply the fact that he finally found a woman that wasn’t doing cartwheels over his bank account. The fact that her brain clipped at a faster pace than his was an added bonus.

  Suddenly the two feet separating them seemed enormous. If he was a true gentleman he might have allowed her privacy, but anxiety trumped chivalry.

  “Honey, I sure as heck hope you’re not praying I find my way out the back door,” he said, running his hand along the indentations of her spine.

  She turned, confusion and uncertainty etched on her face. Slipping his hand around her rib cage, he dragged her back against his chest. “You ever get an unexpected gift, McCabe? Something that completely throws you.”

  “Last time Gracie shared a gumball with me. I broke a cap on my tooth trying to crack the damn thing.”

  His need to touch her brought his hand around the soft flesh beneath her breast. “You’ve really nailed down that adorable pain in the ass thing. Nice dichotomy.”

  The next part was tough. A thin line of sweat broke out on his back. “Abby, I was wrong to think this wouldn’t change things.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Only if you let it. I don’t need any feel-good phrases, Nick. I’m not some bright-eyed adolescent dreaming about happy ever after.”

  He eased his leg over her hip, forcing her to lie flat on her back. “What if I’m the one looking for some reassurance?”

  Her eyes drifted to the bottom of the bed. “Are you hungry? I have a wicked craving for a peanut butter and fluff sandwich.”

  The room was quiet. He was losing her emotionally and physically. Running his thumbs across her cheeks, he mentally conceded defeat. She was spooked.

  “Can we work on my craving first?” he asked, cupping his hands around the back of her head. “I’ve waited a long time to get you beneath me. I’m nowhere near ready to take a timeout.”

  Her death grip on the bed eased. He poured every ounce of emotion into kissing her. She could stop the words but she couldn’t stop him from showing her that what was between them was more than a quick tumble. A soft groan confirmed she wasn’t completely immune.

  When her hands dipped low, his control almost snapped. Nick watched her smile spread.

  “Hey, Nick.”

  He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. “About the gift thing. You ever cut down your own tree at Christmas?”

  “Every year since I was old enough to walk. Why?”

  “You know that feeling when you drag it into the living room and plop it into a stand.”

  “Yeah,” he said, twisting a loose tendril of her hair around his finger.

  “The truth is, being here with you today has been like finding the perfect Douglas fir. You’re beautiful. I’m slightly in awe, and glad I followed my gut.”

  He pulled her up higher on his chest, and let her feel what effect her words had on his body.

  This time they did take it slowly, letting the fire build, until the pressure sent them soaring. When their limbs turned to lead, he wrapped his arm around her, securing her against his chest. Food could wait. He still needed the warmth of her body.

  For the first time since he lost his virginity he actually cursed the need for using a condom. Fairness forced him to maintain his vigilant ritual. It didn’t stop him, however, from thinking about possibilities down the road.

  Chapter Nine

  It was four days before Abby found her center of gravity. Step one in her mental stabilization had been avoiding television coverage of the Bisons’ three-game stretch in Baltimore. Tossing the batteries from the remote control helped her maintain abstinence.

  Phone calls were another matter. Full avoidance was impossible. Nick would attach too much significance if she fell completely off the radar. No way was she falling into that trap.

  Instead she played it safe, answering only those calls that guaranteed a small window of talk time. The answering machine fielded all calls that came in after a game, when Nick had nothing but time on his hands. Calls that came in immediately before a game were much less daunting. Twenty minutes of forced casual was relatively painless.

  Last night she had made another blunder. Mark. Calling his hotel room after midnight yielded unwanted results. Instead of putting a blowtorch to the deep chill in their friendship, an iceberg settled between them.

  An unexpected invite to join Ben for brunch lifted her spirits and her fat intake.

  “Tell me again why you’re surprised,” Ben said, coating his omelet with a thick layer of hot sauce.

  She ran her palms along the steaming mug, searching for the right words. “I guess…well, I just assumed everything wouldn’t get so complicated so fast.”

  “Sex is always complicated, Abby. Unless it’s your occupation, I think some emotion always creeps into the equation.”

  Her head whipped around, gauging the proximity of fellow patrons. “Hello, there are children present.”

  He pushed his plate forward, dropping his elbows onto the table. “Sweetie, if the mere word makes you blush, what did you think the very act would do?”

  “Other than the food, this little get together is turning into a major bust.”

  “Sorry. Focus on the facts. You like Nick, right?”

  “More than I should.”

  He shook his head. “Stick to yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  He looked around, leaned forward. “And the s-e-x was decent, right?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled, heaping hash browns onto her fork.

  “Congratulations. Now stop analyzing the situation. Don’t push things and don’t retreat.”

  She mulled over his words, swallowing the last bite of her bagel. “Okay, but how do I handle his need to talk about IT?”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “Honey, that’s the weird part of this soap opera. Nick is definitely charting an unusual course.”

  “Don’t bail on me now. I need answers.”

  “Stick with humor. Treat those moments as if he’s joking.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Won’t he be insulted?”

  “Maybe,” he said, plopping his wallet on the table. “But the alternative is worse. You both need to be on the same page before you start examining the relationship.”

  “You think I’m going to blow this, don’t you?”

  A wide grin broke out on his face. “You want me to say yes, Abby. Then if things implode, you can say it was inevitable.”

  “I’m going to ignore that statement. Mostly, because it’s true.”

  When their waitress returned they practically begged for a refill of their coffee carafe. Abby eyed the empty plates in front of her and threw in a request for a small stack of pancakes.

  “You really are keyed up,” Ben said, watching the plates disappear.

  “Did I mention dinner with his parents next week?”

  “Yup.”

  “Did I also mention that my dear friend Mark is shagging Sue Ellen Norris?”

  Ben’s mouth dropped. “Damn.”

  “I know. I know. Straight men have no taste. I thought Mark was avoiding me because of Nick. Instead he was afraid to tell me that he’s doing the horizontal bop with that bimbo from Channel 10.”

  “Well, it’s about time your life had some fresh drama.”

&
nbsp; She ignored him, grabbed the newly arrived carafe, and drowned her worries in another cup of coffee.

  He reached for his wineglass, ignoring the quiet conversation that surrounded him. After a week of playing dodge ball, he thought she would be a no show.

  He was wrong. Abby, barely recognizable in a lavender silk sundress, had just spent the better part of the past hour captivating Anna and Ray Valente. The only individual cognizant of his presence had been the waiter. Instead of annoyance, Nick was both amused and relieved.

  She was beautiful. She was smart. And she was completely oblivious to her appeal. The sound of his mother’s laughter interrupted his mental vacation.

  “Ray and I finally unplugged all the phones in the house after eight o’clock.”

  Abby turned, flashed him a smile. “Did it stop his admirers?”

  “Never even slowed them down,” Anna said, shaking her head slowly. “If anything they just got more creative.”

  “Poor Nick. What a cross to bear so young.”

  He watched her eyes dance with mischief. Tonight she was animated, at ease. It baffled the hell out of him. Their relationship had taken a strange turn since they shed their clothes last week. Instead of an increased intimacy, Abby had been working overtime to keep things light. Her message had been clear. Friendship was fine. A little horizontal action was okay. Anything more was off the table for now. The irony of the situation only magnified Nick’s frustration. Maybe that was what pushed him toward his own brand of mischief.

  “Tragic really,” Nick said. “I’m completely defenseless when it comes to aggressive women.”

  “So sad.” Abby lowered her voice. “I’ve offered to step in as a temporary life coach.”

  His mother leaned forward, brows raised, ears open.

  “It’s not uncommon really,” Abby continued. “A lot of high-profile athletes have difficulty seeing themselves as anything more than well-toned flesh.”

  Nick opened his mouth, closed it, and then started again. “Abby is sort of an expert on well-toned flesh. She’s taught me so much in the past few weeks.”