by Roz Lee
He kept his head down, his eyes diverted, and a scowl on his face. The last thing he needed was well meaning teammates offering up platitudes. He’d had enough of that in the dugout during the game. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him next time,” was the favorite, and probably the least welcome one. Don’t worry. Jason worried day and night about facing McCree. After all, it wasn’t only his career in the spotlight. It was Jeff’s too. More Jeff’s than his own. Most people placed all the blame on the pitcher, but if the pitcher threw what his catcher called, then it was the catcher’s fault, plain and simple.
By the time Jason was dressed and heading home, he still hadn’t seen Jeff. That couldn’t be good. Guilt clung to him like a pair of sweat-soaked socks, and stunk just as bad. The stink followed him all the way home, and to the pool where he knew he’d find Megan. Not that he was going to do anything with her. It had been weeks since he’d so much as kissed her, but he needed a few minutes to get his head on straight.
Her eyes held no pity, no censure, even though he knew he deserved at least the latter.
“I won’t say it. You’re always harder on yourself than anyone else could be.”
“You know as well as I do, it’s my fault.” Jason stopped with his toes at the edge of the pool. He’d been on the edge of the unknown for a while now. He wished to hell, he knew what was going to happen when he took the next step. He hoped to hell, he had the courage to take it before someone or something pushed him. It wasn’t the stepping that had him running scared. It was not knowing what was beyond the edge.
“Baseball is a team sport. You aren’t responsible for the missed plays, the poorly thrown pitches, or the missed opportunities at the plate.”
“I know all that, but…”
“No buts. You aren’t the only player on the Mustangs, any more than Martin McCree is the only player on the Miners. Any number of plays could have changed the outcome of the game, and you know it. Don’t take it all on yourself.”
She looked like an angel floating on the water in her favorite lounge chair, paddling around with her hands and feet. She’d learned a lot about baseball over the last year or so, and everything she was saying was true. Inning ending strikeouts with runners on base, the walked batter in the fifth who ended up scoring, were a few of the things she was talking about. “You’re right. I know it, but I can’t blame my own failures on other people’s mistakes. Maybe I’m not entirely to blame, but I let myself down. Hell, I let Jeff down.”
“Why don’t you come for a swim? Cool off a little, then when Jeff gets home, we’ll have dinner.”
“No. I’m going to go out for a while. You and Jeff can have the house to yourself tonight. We’re off tomorrow, then on the road for nine games. I’ll be okay.”
“You’re going out? Again? What’s going on, Jason? You know we miss you. You haven’t been with us in ages.”
Jason’s smile faded, and he focused on something across the pool. “I know. It’s not you, Megan. You know how I feel about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on, find my own woman. You don’t need me, and I’m…well, I feel like I’m in the way here. I’m coming between you and Jeff.”
Megan stopped paddling. “Is there someone else?”
What if there were? Would it make a difference? “Maybe.” It was a lie, but Megan didn’t have any way of knowing that. Jason stared off into space until Megan’s direct gaze made him uncomfortable, a tactic that worked on him every time. He squirmed on the inside, determined not to let her see how close he was to the edge. “We have something good here – ”
“Don’t you mean had? Jason, you haven’t been with us in weeks. You haven’t been with me in weeks. Jeff’s been so preoccupied with the season I don’t think he’s even noticed, but I have.”
“I’m sorry. Really. But this has been coming for a long time. Don’t tell me you didn’t think so too. You’re awesome, Megan. We’re lucky bastards to have found you, but you’re in love with Jeff. I know you want a family, and as long as I’m around, you’ll never have that. I love you, but not the way Jeff does.”
“I’m sorry, Jason.”
“Don’t be. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know. I want that for you too. Loving Jeff doesn’t mean I haven’t enjoyed our time together. You’re right though. I do want a family, and I think Jeff may be ready for that too.”
“But big brother is hanging around.”
“You know he doesn’t think of you that way. You’re only five minutes older than him.”
“Maybe it’s not like that, but in this case, three’s a crowd. I need to move on, let the two of you have the life you want, and deserve.”
“Jason, please. Don’t go out tonight. Stay home, with us. Now is not the time to be talking about making changes. All of this can wait until the season is over.”
“No, it can’t.” Suddenly, he could see what was over the edge. It was a blank page. A lonely, singular existence. He and Jeff had always been a team, then Megan had joined them, and he thought they’d completed their team. They worked well together, but this wasn’t a game he could win. Just like on the field, he’d done his part. It wouldn’t do any good to second-guess the plays. It was time to take responsibility. Time to make a trade. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He stopped at the French doors separating the pool enclosure from the family room and turned. “Don’t mention this to Jeff, okay? He has enough on his mind without worrying about me.”
* * * *
It wasn’t the first save he’d blown, and it wouldn’t be his last. Jeff’s patience wore thin as he fielded one stupid question after another. He needed to catch up to Jason. The look on his brother’s face when McCree sent that pitch into orbit had said it all. Jason blamed himself for the blown save. The media didn’t see it that way. As far as they were concerned, it was one hundred percent Jeff’s fault. Maybe it was. The game evolved on a daily basis. If you didn’t stay on your game, you’d become a has-been before they put your name on a locker. Before he had to face McCree again, he had to come up with something the asshole hadn’t seen. Maybe not a new pitch, but a new sequence or maybe adjust the speed on his breaking ball – something. Inside heat wasn’t enough anymore, not if he was going to keep McCree from sending his pitches into orbit. Even if the league came to their senses and benched McCree, there would always be another one, another player willing to risk their health and career for the chance at the record book. Hell, he wanted his name next to a Major League record too. And the only way he was going to get it was to keep working on his pitches.
He was still mulling over the possibilities when he pulled his car into garage. Megan handed him a cold beer as he entered the kitchen through the connecting hallway, then she went back to tossing a salad. Watching her do these little domestic things in his kitchen – no, their kitchen – put things in perspective. Maybe his job wasn’t the nine to five variety, but there was no reason he had to bring his work home with him. He’d rather spend time with Megan and Jason, than think about McCree. Besides, they’d be on the road for over a week, and there would be plenty of time to work on a solution to that problem. Tonight, he wanted to be with Megan, to hold her in his arms, to make love to her and forget baseball.
It wasn’t until Megan carried the salad to the table, that Jeff noticed there were only two place settings. “Where’s Jase?”
“He went out.”
Jeff helped move the rest of the serving dishes to the table, then they took their seats next to each other. “He does that a lot these days,” he said.
“I didn’t think you noticed.”
He helped himself to salad and took a large helping of casserole. “I noticed. Do you know what’s up?”
“You should ask him. I think I know, but please, will you talk to him?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Jase has always kept things to himself, even when we were kids. Of course, I could beat it out of him then.”
“I don’t think that’s a good sol
ution now. Why don’t you just ask him? For me?”
Whatever was bothering Jase, he’d eventually get around to talking about, but Megan’s concern made him wonder if she knew something he didn’t. Jason was a big boy; he certainly didn’t need Jeff to sort out his life for him. “We aren’t kids anymore. He’s a grown man, he can work it out on his own.”
“Please?” she wheedled. “I’m worried about him.”
The quiet way she said those last words made him take notice. He knew she loved Jase. How could she not and do the things they did together? It wasn’t like her to share herself with someone she didn’t love, but how deep did her feelings go for his brother? He dropped his fork and stared at his plate. Had they had a fight he didn’t know about? Is that why Jason had been scarce the last few months? Something foul churned in his stomach. Jealousy? No. Megan loved him, and he’d always known she loved Jason too, so it couldn’t be jealousy. That didn’t make sense, but something had soured in his stomach when she admitted she was worried about his brother. Christ, what was wrong with him?
“He’ll be fine. I’ve got to pack. We’re leaving early tomorrow because of the two-hour time change.” Jeff shoved back from the table, unable to look at Megan. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt he’d put there on top of her worry for Jason. Everything she felt showed on her face, it always had. So, how had he missed how she felt about Jase?
“Jeff, wait!”
He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other until he was far enough away from the kitchen he couldn’t feel her confusion or her concern any longer. Shit. This was the last thing he needed – his personal life falling apart when he needed to be concentrating on pitching. More specifically, on how to shut down Martin McCree. When you only threw a few pitches, and only in games when your team was ahead by a small margin, every outing had the potential to be a career maker, or breaker, depending on the outcome. A good inning was nine pitches or less, and unlike a starting pitcher, he was expected to have a zero earned run average. Anything less meant he wasn’t doing his job.
He pulled a suitcase off the closet shelf and flipped it open on the bed. Ten days in hotels, eating in restaurants, and sleeping alone. He crossed to the dresser, yanked open a drawer and without bothering to count, tossed a handful of boxer briefs into the open suitcase. A couple of handfuls of socks followed. He frowned as half of them bounced and scattered across the bed. Well, hell. He picked up the stray socks and neatly tucked them into the suitcase, counted his boxers and added a few more in precise stacks. Slovenly living wouldn’t make his situation any better. By the time he finished packing, he’d almost convinced himself the time on the road would be a good thing. With nothing else to do, he could concentrate on finding Martin McCree’s weakness. Then, the next time he had to face the bastard, he’d be ready.
Maybe it wasn’t rational, but Jeff couldn’t help thinking McCree could be the single biggest challenge of his career, now, and in the future. If he could find a way to win the battle with the steroid-pumped hitting monster, he’d carve a place for himself in the record books. Jeff closed his suitcase and set it beside the door. He undressed and stretched out on the bed, thinking about what he wanted to accomplish in his career. He might never be the caliber of closer Mariano Rivera or Trevor Hoffman, but if he played it right, he could be a name people remembered. But first, he had to get the better of Martin McCree.
He heard Megan’s footsteps sometime later. She paused outside his door, and he felt a pang of guilt at the way he’d left her sitting at the table. He should call to her, ask her to come in so he could apologize, maybe lift the covers and invite her to join him. That’s what she would expect the night before a long road trip. She would come to him, he knew she would, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she might give herself to him, but all the time, she’d be wishing she were with Jason.
Damn. He flashed back to that time he’d found them in the pool together. How long ago was that? A month? Two? He couldn’t remember, but that was the last time they’d been together as a threesome. He’d walked in, practically demanding to join them. Had he invited himself into something where he wasn’t wanted? A cold chill shivered down his spine and shriveled his scrotum as that thought settled in his brain.
Was that why Jase had been so distant? Had the relationship between Megan and his brother developed into something more when he hadn’t been looking? That would account for Jason’s aloofness for the last few weeks, and Megan’s concerns.
Jeff tossed the covers aside and turned on the lamp next to the bed. Naked, he paced the length of the room and back again. The same nauseating feeling he had during dinner gripped his gut. Jealousy. Doubt. Disgust.
He’d made love to Megan several times since that evening in the pool. The thought that he’d been making time with his brother’s woman turned his bowels to water. Surely, if she loved Jason that way, she wouldn’t have welcomed him to her bed. Would she?
Christ. When had he begun to think of Megan as his? He hadn’t really had any qualms about sharing her with Jason because he always thought there was nothing more than sex between Jason and Megan. Blind. He was fucking blind. How could he not have seen it? He’d come to think of Jason as the extra, the one they brought into the relationship for fun. Jeff stopped pacing and stared at his reflection in the darkened mirror. Dear God. It was him. He was the extra.
And he was in love with Megan.
His knees gave out, and he felt behind him for the edge of the bed. He stumbled back and sat, propping his pounding head up with his hands. His elbows dug into his thighs, but that was nothing compared to the churning in his gut.
Now he admitted to himself just how far gone he was. He’d actually been thinking of a future – with Megan. Kids. A family. Marrying her. Christ. When had that happened? And how blind could he be? Sure, she wanted those things, she’d said so often enough. But now he knew when she talked about those things, he’d seen himself as the father.
And she’d been seeing Jason. Well, shit. How freakin’ fucked up was that?
Chapter Thirteen
Megan stared at Jeff’s retreating back. To be such simple creatures, men could be totally incomprehensible at times. First Jason, now Jeff. She felt like the ballerina in the jewelry box she had when she was a kid, wound up, and dancing in circles until she was dizzy and confused. And, like that tiny ballerina, once they slammed the lid down, completely in the dark.
She cleared the table with more than a grumble at being left to do the kitchen clean-up by herself. It would serve them both right to wake up to a dirty kitchen. Megan flicked off the light and headed upstairs to her room. A strip of light spilling across the carpet told her Jeff was still awake. She paused outside his door, her emotions warring inside. It was tempting to tell him what she thought of his behavior, but another part understood the stress he was under. Stats were everything in baseball. A player’s value and popularity was only as good as their last game. Still, that didn’t excuse his behavior. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
All she’d done was voice her concerns about his brother, something she thought she had every right to do. She’d promised Jason she wouldn’t tell Jeff, but she didn’t promise she wouldn’t get Jeff to talk to him.
Jeff’s reaction didn’t make any sense. Jason and Jeff were close, so close it was surprising that Jeff didn’t know what was going on all ready. Maybe he did, and he didn’t want to talk about it with her. She swallowed that thought like a hot lead ball. They were pushing her away – both of them.
She made it to her room across the hall, barely. She sat on the end of the bed and stared across the darkened room at the closed door. Her heart continued to pump, oblivious to the grievous wound inflicted on it moments ago. Tears formed and she swiped them away with trembling fingertips. How had her world shifted so completely without her knowing?
Jeff and Jason didn’t want her anymore. Pain knifed through her, doubling her over. She loved them, and they loved her. How could things
have changed so much, so quickly, without her knowing? Because she was a blind fool, that’s why. She’d wanted it so much, she let her guard down, and Jason had moved on, and now Jeff.
It had been so easy to let her dreams blossom into a full-blown fantasy – one that included children and a lifetime with the man she loved. Jason had seen it. Hadn’t he admitted as much earlier today? So what had happened with Jeff? Why was he pushing her away? Even Jason said Jeff loved her.
She saw it now – crystal clear. Jeff loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her.
Megan crawled onto the bed and curled into a tight ball on top of the covers. Tears flowed like blood from an open wound. She felt as brittle as glass. She clutched her midsection in tightly wrapped arms, as if doing so would keep her insides from shattering. Vignettes of time spent with Jeff tormented her with all the reasons she believed he loved her. Memories of his touch, his smile, his words were etched on her glass heart. No matter how many times she revisited those moments, she couldn’t reconcile the man she loved, and who she was certain loved her, with the man across the hall.
Footsteps woke her. She lay still; listening as Jason moved past her door then opened and closed his own. She could go to him, talk to him about Jeff. No sooner had the idea formed than she dismissed it. Jason didn’t need her dragging her personal drama to his door, not in the middle of the season. He had his own set of worries. The media might not focus on him, but team management did. Calling pitches was his job, and getting McCree out was as much his responsibility as it was the pitchers’. No, she couldn’t dump her insecurities on Jason’s shoulders.
Daylight glimmered on the horizon when she dressed and made her way downstairs. She was working the late shift today, so the morning was hers. She made a point of attending the home games as often as her schedule permitted, but traveling with the team was out of the question, so they’d made a tradition of sharing breakfast on travel days.