by Marin Thomas
“Sorry, honey. Didn’t have time to stop by the store.” Eryk’s wife bolted from the bleachers and ran after a tyke heading for the exit.
“Here.” Eryk flung the juice bag.
As Ryan fumbled with the straw attached to the side of the pouch, he decided he’d be better off using the water fountain. The scent of citrus drifted over his shoulder and he spun, then darn near swallowed his tongue. Wow. Double wow—Anna Nowakowski in a cheerleading outfit.
“That’s one way to open the drink.” She nodded to the bag he had a death grip on. “Squeeze until it bursts.”
To heck with his thirst. He dropped the juice into the cooler and gave his full attention to Anna’s outfit. “You have great legs.” He cringed. Did friends say those things to each other?
Cheeks pink, she murmured, “Thanks.”
Her long blond hair had been secured with red-and-white ribbons, which matched her red-and-white pleated skirt, the short-sleeved sweater and even the red ruffles around her bobby socks. “Watch out for those guys.” She nodded to the team shooting at the other end of the court. “The Bulls are nasty.”
Except for their jerseys, the opposing players didn’t appear threatening. Don’s Electrical was stamped across the material, and underneath a stick figure with its hair standing on end held a live wire.
Fifteen minutes later Ryan discovered how dirty Don’s Electrical played. When Ryan drove the lane for a layup, his opponent hammered him and he ended up flat on his back gasping for air. Served him right for daydreaming about how hot Anna looked in her outfit, instead of focusing on the game. The blurry outline of Joe’s hand wavered in front of Ryan’s face and he accepted help off the floor.
The upright position allowed oxygen to flow freely to his lungs, and in seconds his vision cleared. Something compelled him to check the bleachers and he spotted Anna with her hands clasped over her mouth and a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face. Her concern went a long way in easing the throbbing pain in his elbow, which had hit the floor first when he’d gotten his legs knocked out from under him. He flashed a strained smile, but it wasn’t until he’d made both free throws that she took her seat on the bench again.
There was no time to analyze Anna’s reaction, because the same terminator who’d decked him now dribbled circles around Antonio. Ryan left his player to help out and managed to steal the ball, then lob it across court to Patrick, who stood in the lane, hands on his knees breathing hard. Everyone in the stands yelled, “Pat, heads up!” Startled, the man caught the ball a second before it would have bounced off his head. He dribbled in for a layup and brought the team to within ten points of the Bulls.
The buzzer trilled and the players retreated to their respective benches for a time-out before the final two minutes of the game. Ryan jogged toward the water fountain at the end of the gym but stopped when Anna called his name. She climbed over two girls scribbling in coloring books to hand him a sports drink.
“Thanks.” Ryan guzzled half the bottle, then came up for air. “You were right. This team is rough.”
“We can win if you shoot the ball,” she whispered.
“Me?”
“Be a ball hog.”
“You’ve played the game before, haven’t you?”
“One of my foster brothers taught me. You met him the other night at the Muddy River.”
The guy he’d been jealous of had been her foster brother?
“I’d planned to pass the ball inside to Antonio and let him get fouled.” Ryan had no desire to end up on the floor again.
“Antonio’s a horrible free-throw shooter. You’re better off jacking up three-pointers.”
Having never argued basketball with a woman before, Ryan found Anna’s intensity amusing. “The team won’t invite me to play again if I don’t share.”
“They will if you win the game,” she promised, inching closer, the front of her sweater brushing his arm.
Maybe he’d imagined her remoteness this past week. “I could use a little motivation.”
One side of her mouth curved. “Would a victory kiss from me suffice?”
Her answer knocked out what little breath remained in his lungs after four quarters of full-court basketball. Glad the old Anna had returned, he lowered his voice. “Deal.” He’d forgotten how fun flirting with a woman could be and grinned like a buffoon. He wasn’t as confident in his ability to pull off the win as Anna was, but he’d give it one hell of a try. “Prepare to pucker, my lady.”
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the time-out. In the team huddle, Ryan announced, “I’m going to hog the ball and shoot three-pointers.”
“Anna tell you to do that?” Joe asked.
“Yep.”
“Whatever Anna says goes,” Patrick declared. Antonio and Eryk agreed and went to inbound the ball.
Offered the green light, Ryan tore up the court. His three-pointers hit nothing but net. With fifteen seconds left in the game, Parnell Brothers trailed by one point and Don’s Electrical had possession of the ball.
All heck broke loose. Ryan knocked the ball from the hands of the opponent. Eryk scrambled after the loose ball and managed to throw it inbounds before stepping over the end line. Ryan caught it and dribbled. “Shoot! Shoot the ball!” greeted his ears as he crossed center court. With two seconds remaining on the clock, he launched a prayer.
An eerie silence settled over the gym and right as the buzzer sounded…Swish! The bleachers erupted into chaos. Women screamed, and kids ran onto the court to hug their fathers. Ryan chuckled as Antonio struggled to keep his shorts from falling to his ankles when his son shimmied up his legs.
Joy. Pure, sweet joy filled Ryan as he absorbed the pandemonium. He couldn’t remember the last time his actions had resulted in such excitement. The men kissed their wives and girlfriends, hugged their children and rooster-strutted around the floor. Ryan got clobbered over the head with a pom-pom before Anna flung her arms around his neck. Automatically, he wrapped her in his embrace and twirled. Her laughter warmed his heart.
The squishy softness of Anna’s well-endowed bosom pressing into his chest brought forth an image in Ryan’s head of the two of them tangled in bedsheets. After another twirl it occurred to him that he smelled a little too healthy to be this close to her. He loosened his hold, but she stuck to him. If he didn’t know better, he’d believe she intended for everyone to assume they were a couple.
Would that be a bad thing? Maybe. Maybe not. He’d been a loner for so many years he couldn’t remember how to be a couple. Besides, hadn’t he decided friendship was the best road to travel with Anna?
“Told you I was right.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Hey, hotshot,” Antonio called as he untangled his son from his legs, then held him up in the air by the scruff of his collar. “We’re heading over to Mimi’s.”
“Dinner and drinks are on us, Kobe,” Joe teased.
Not be left out, Eryk chimed in, “That’s right. The MVP doesn’t pay for his meal.”
Playing basketball with the guys was one thing, but he wasn’t ready to dine with their families. “They wouldn’t have invited you, Ryan, if they didn’t want you to celebrate with them.” Anna’s assurance chipped away at his resolve to keep to himself.
“Sounds good,” he hollered to the group.
Right in front of everyone, the guys whipped off their sweaty jerseys and threw on clean T-shirts. Anna gazed expectantly at him, her attention shifting from his face to his chest. Not going to happen. He wasn’t sharing his scars with anyone, especially not his friend, Anna.
When the men had finished toweling off their sweaty faces and damp hair, they collected their families and left the gym. Ryan grabbed the sports bag he’d stowed under the bleachers. “I’ll be right out,” he promised, then disappeared through the doorway marked Men’s Locker Room.
Inside, he shoved his head under the sink and rinsed his hair and face. Then he used a wad of damp paper towels to wipe the sweat from th
e rest of his torso. A liberal dousing of deodorant, a clean shirt and pair of jeans and he was good to go.
“Sorry about the delay,” he apologized when he noticed Anna holding up the wall outside the locker room.
She sniffed. “You smell good.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I believe you have a debt to pay.”
“Don’t worry.” Her eyes twinkled. “Before the night is out, you’ll get your victory kiss.”
BY THE TIME Anna and Ryan arrived at Mimi’s Pizzeria on Forest Avenue, she wondered what had happened to Ryan’s good mood. The tight lines around his mouth convinced her that he’d rather haul heavy construction debris to a Dumpster than join the team for a celebration dinner. His fault—he should have missed more shots.
Anna had urged him to join the team celebration tonight in part because she’d regretted the way she’d acted this past week and wanted to make amends. The news of his ex-wife’s miscarriage had devastated her. She’d needed time to accept that her developing feelings for Ryan had nowhere to go. Keeping her distance had been a self-preservation tactic. But she’d been miserable and her misery had been compounded by the puppy-dog confusion on Ryan’s face each time she’d avoided him.
After a heart-to-heart talk with her roommate, she’d realized that she and Ryan were a long way from a serious relationship. For goodness’ sake, they hadn’t even kissed—an activity she planned to remedy tonight. As long as her relationship with Ryan didn’t stray from the flirty-and-fun path, she saw no harm in the two of them becoming better acquainted. Tonight, her goal was to help Ryan relax and enjoy himself.
“Crowded,” he commented, holding open the restaurant door.
“You won’t be disappointed. Mimi’s has the best pizza in Queens. I eat here a lot because it’s close to my apartment.”
As soon as they entered, Eryk hollered, “Hey, the hero of the game!” He waved them over to a cluster of tables shoved together in the far corner.
When Ryan hesitated, Anna casually slipped her hand into his and led them toward the group. Mismatched tables and chairs sat on a painted concrete floor in the boisterous hole-in-the-wall eatery. Poster-size black-and-white historical photographs of Queens decorated the whitewashed brick walls. The heavy aroma of oregano and garlic floated through the air.
Before they reached the tables, a miniature Tasmanian devil spun out of nowhere, knocking into Ryan’s knees before twirling off in a new direction. “Mark, walk,” Anna warned Antonio’s youngest son. The little imp smiled and dashed away.
“Have a seat, Kobe.” Joe pulled out a chair for Ryan.
The women and girlfriends had congregated at one end of the long table and the men at the other. With a last reassuring squeeze, Anna released Ryan’s hand and joined the ladies.
“So…” Eryk’s wife, Pam, grinned. As a matter of fact, all the women wore silly grins.
Playing dumb, Anna asked, “So, what?”
Patrick’s girlfriend, Dolly, nodded toward the other end of the table. “S-o…him.”
Anna was fond of Dolly, a no-nonsense vet tech who ran a pet-boarding business on the side. And she admired how Dolly raved over Patrick’s choir voice to anyone who would listen. Hoping to steer the topic in a different direction, she asked, “Has Patrick recovered from Father Baynard’s tongue-lashing?”
A blush spread across the younger woman’s cheeks. “Pat’s terrified my uncle’s going to demand we wed.” Dolly giggled. “My father knocked up my mother when she was sixteen, so Uncle Baynard fears I’m going to follow in her footsteps.”
“But you’re twenty-six,” Antonio’s wife, Lisa, noted.
“Exactly.” Dolly rolled her eyeballs toward the other end of the table. “Forget Father Baynard. What about you and Ryan?”
Saved from answering by the sudden appearance of the waitress, Anna ordered a tap beer. Antonio slapped Ryan on the shoulder and announced, “He’s drinking Bud with the rest of us.”
A strained smile teased the corners of Ryan’s mouth.
Call it a hunch, but Anna suspected Ryan would have preferred an uptown Heineken over a workingman’s Budweiser.
While the men rehashed the game, Anna asked Joe’s girlfriend, Linda, “Any leads on a teaching job?” Linda had recently completed her early-childhood-education degree and was in the process of obtaining her teacher certification and applying for jobs in various school districts.
“Next week I have an interview with an elementary school on Long Island. Keep your fingers crossed. If I get the job, I plan to drag Joe to the altar.”
“Good luck. I had to have two of Antonio’s babies before he found the courage to marry me.” Lisa smiled lovingly at her husband. “He was terrified of fatherhood.”
Lisa had shared with Anna that Antonio’s father had beaten him as a young boy and Antonio had been worried he’d repeat the sins of his father with his own children. The exact opposite had happened. Antonio was nothing but a softie where the kids were concerned and Lisa complained that she had to be the disciplinarian.
Casting a surreptitious glance in Ryan’s direction, Anna contemplated what kind of father he would have made if his baby had survived. Better than the mother she’d been—he’d have never given up his child. She imagined a dark-eyed little boy with blond hair…Not in this lifetime, Anna.
“Eryk confessed that the guy doesn’t talk about himself,” Pam interjected, ending Anna’s daydream.
“Leon said Ryan mentioned he was divorced.” Anna wondered who had been more at fault in Ryan’s failed marriage, he or his wife. Had the miscarriage been the final straw in an already bad relationship?
“Ask him on a date,” Linda encouraged.
“He’s not my type.” No sense allowing the girls to get their hopes up that she and Ryan might become a couple. Besides, however far they decided to take their relationship was nobody’s business but theirs.
Pam finished her beer, caught her husband’s attention and raised the glass in the air. Eryk nodded, then waved over the waitress.
“You have him well trained.” Anna raised her beer mug in a toast.
“As long as I let Eryk think he’s the boss, and scratch his itch once in a while, he obeys like a well-heeled dog.” After the waitress delivered Pam’s beer, she puckered her lips and made a loud kissing sound in her husband’s direction. Poor Eryk blushed.
“What a flirt,” Anna accused her.
“Speaking of flirting, have you and—”
“Mama,” Lisa’s son, Mark, interrupted Pam. The little boy tugged on his mother’s pant leg and whined, “More money.”
“Okay, sweetie.” From her purse Lisa extracted a plastic sandwich bag of quarters. She stuffed the boy’s jean pockets until they bulged. “That should hold you for a while and prevent you from tearing up the place.” The five-year-old waddled to his father and raised his arms for a hug.
Anna caught the wistful expression on Ryan’s face as he witnessed Antonio and Mark hug. Maybe Ryan’s initial reluctance to join the group tonight had more to do with being around their children than around her or the adults. She considered making up an excuse to leave and escaping with Ryan, but just then the pizzas arrived. Mark dashed off to round up the other kids in the arcade room and a minute later little people crowded around the table. Mimicking chipmunks, they gobbled their pizza, then raced away, cheeks bulging with food.
While the adults dug into the remaining slices, Anna noticed Mark had reappeared at Ryan’s side. The child’s gaze shifted between Ryan’s face and the piece of sausage on his plate. Ryan glanced at Antonio, but the dad was involved in a heated dispute with Patrick. After a moment, Ryan stabbed the meat with his fork and popped it into the boy’s mouth. Mark chewed, then crawled into Ryan’s lap and rested his head on his chest.
When Anna glanced at Ryan’s face, her heart sank. Wearing a frozen mask of pain, he had his hands hovering above Mark’s back, as if touching the child would cause immense pain. After a minute Mark scrambled off Ryan’s lap and scur
ried away. Ryan’s tormented eyes connected with hers. She dug out a twenty from her purse and tossed it on the table. “I need to get going,” she announced, then stood. Ryan placed his napkin on the table, relief softening the lines around his mouth.
“Eryk and I can give you a lift.” Pam frowned at Anna’s abrupt announcement.
“Thanks, but Ryan will walk me home.” Anna ignored Dolly’s raised eyebrows and Lisa’s mischievous smirk. “Good game, guys. See you Monday.” Anna wove through the tables to the exit. Ryan joined her outside.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
His gaze fastened to a crack running through the sidewalk. “Couldn’t be better.”
Biting her tongue, she remained silent and waited for him to explain. His attention remained on the cement. “My apartment is a few blocks from here,” she said.
“Fine.”
The dull note in his voice didn’t escape Anna. With sinking spirits, she mumbled, “You’re tired. You should go home and rest.” She stepped around him, but he snagged her sweater sleeve.
“I’ll see you home.” His expression dared her to argue.
They had strolled in silence for three blocks when Anna decided to throw caution to the wind. She nodded at a building across the street. “That was my first foster home.”
“A bakery?”
“It wasn’t a bakery when I lived in the second-floor apartment.”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “How old were you?”
“Four.” They continued walking and Anna basked in the warm comfort of Ryan’s grasp. “The first year I lived with Mrs. Lowenstein was rough, but I adjusted. After a while, transferring from home to home—” she shrugged “—became a normal way of life.”
They’d eaten up another block when she asked, “Do the guys expect you to play for them every week?”
“They said I could if I wanted.”
He didn’t sound too excited. “Are you going to?” More basketball games meant more pizza, more walks home, more time with Ryan.
“I might.”
Better than a no. “I noticed Mark made a pest of himself around you tonight.”