For the First Time (One Strike Away #$)

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For the First Time (One Strike Away #$) Page 14

by Mary J. Williams


  Murphy pinned the lanky reliever with his gaze. "But her father—your teammate—knows. And one day, he'll tell his little girl. Do you want her to remember you as the hero of the story, or the jerk?"

  "Hero," they muttered almost as one.

  "Then what are you waiting for? Go. Now!"

  "Thanks, Murphy," Billy Johnson called out as he picked up his smiling little girl and waited for his teammates to issue their apologies. "You're a class act."

  Spencer turned from the scene. He looked at Nick, then at Travis.

  "Any more questions?"

  "Nope." Nick shook his head. "Travis. You all right with our new catcher?"

  Travis slung an arm over Spencer's shoulders and laughed. "Right as rain."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  JORDYN CONSIDERED HERSELF a morning person. When she was on a schedule, her motor started early. Successful people don't wait for the sun, her dad liked to say. A piece of advice she followed with little difficulty as long as she could remember.

  Yes, Jordyn was a morning person. Except when she wasn't.

  Even type-A personalities deserved a day off now and then. Or, in Jordyn's case, a half day to sleep in. Or simply luxuriate in bed past her usual jump-start hour.

  Today—the last Thursday in May—was supposed to be such a morning. Unfortunately, the person who dared to ring her doorbell at quarter past six obviously hadn't received the memo.

  "If I ignore them, they'll go away," Jordyn reasoned, then winced when the bell rang again.

  As tempted as Jordyn was to pull the covers over her head, now that she was awake, she wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep. Her brain was already thinking about all the possibilities on the other side of her locked front door.

  A family member? No. Anybody with the last name Kraig would have called first. A delivery was the most likely explanation. Though early, Jordyn occasionally received a package at odd times of the day. Which meant she had no choice but to roll out of bed and head downstairs. Thieves considered anything left on the front stoop fair game.

  Jordyn didn't bother to grab a robe, her Snoopy nightgown covered her as well as a light summer dress. Nor did she stop in the bathroom to check her appearance. Since somebody had dared to intrude on her the one day she gave herself to sleep in, they could just take her as she came, wild hair and all.

  Her feet bare, Jordyn padded down the stairs as her hand ran along the smooth, mahogany rail. Just as she reached the door, the bell peeled for the third time. The ever-cautious single woman, she checked the peephole first.

  Nothing at eye level, she thought with a frown. Her gaze scanned downward. And what she found brought a grin to her lips. With due haste, Jordyn disengaged the locks, swung open the door, fell to her knees, and braced herself for the attack of the wiggling, quivering puppy.

  "You've grown." Jordyn laughed as she held Casey close.

  Try as she might, she couldn't avoid the wet swish of the dog's tongue. So, she gave up the fight and surrendered to the inevitable.

  "Oh, well. I needed to wash my face anyhow."

  "She missed you." Murphy stepped into view.

  Jordyn looked up. And up. From her position, Murphy seemed taller than usual. But he looked just as good as she remembered. Though she'd watched every game since he'd joined the team—most from the comfort of her living room—she hadn't seen him in person. Funny how six days could seem like an eternity.

  "I missed her, too." Almost as much as I miss you, she added silently.

  "May we come in?" Murphy held up a familiar bag. "Blue told me where to pick up your favorite pastry."

  "You didn't need a bribe." Jordyn rolled to her feet, breathing deeply. Even through the bag, she could smell the yeasty goodness. "But croissants are always welcome."

  When Murphy closed the door and turned the locks without asking, Jordyn felt her heart constrict. Such a small gesture. Yet, she knew from experience that innate thoughtfulness was a hard quality to find.

  "At this time of day, I figured a bit of incentive might not hurt."

  "Speaking of the time. Most people wait until a decent hour to make house calls."

  "My parents have a thing about early flights. Don't ask me why." Murphy shrugged. "Mom's reasoning is too long and convoluted. To this day, I don't understand. But if they're happy with the arrangement, so am I."

  "Now, I have to know," Jordyn said as she moved to the kitchen. Once she flipped on the electric kettle, she filled a plastic bowl with water.

  "Mom will be happy to send you a long email." Murphy watched as she set the bowl next to Casey. "She and Dad couldn't stop singing your praises, by the way."

  Jordyn leaned over the sink as she washed the puppy love from her face. She dabbed the water with a paper towel.

  "I liked them, too."

  "Good." Murphy smiled at her answer. His blue eyes looked into hers as he removed his jacket, baring strong, muscled arms under a plain white t-shirt. "No game today."

  "I'm aware."

  As two-hundred-plus pounds of gorgeous male leisurely strolled toward her, the intent in his deep-blue eyes right there for her to see, Jordyn had to remind herself to breathe.

  "The team gets on a plane late this afternoon for a two-week road trip."

  "Two weeks is a long time. You should spend today doing something special."

  "My thoughts exactly."

  The counter to her back, Jordyn had nowhere to go as Murphy filled the kitchen with his rock-hard body. She had no way out. Luckily, escape was the last thing on her mind.

  "Did I get you out of bed?" The question rumbled from Murphy's chest, deep and sexy.

  "I was going to sleep in."

  "I can leave. If you want."

  Jordyn gasped when, his strong hands at her waist, Murphy lifted her, sitting her on the slab of polished granite. He settled his warm body between her open thighs.

  A nonchalant shrug wasn't easy when all she could think about was how one look from Murphy's oh, so vivid blue eyes made her blood race. But Jordyn tried her best.

  "I'm awake." She bit her lip to keep from smiling. "You might as well hang around. If you want."

  "Oh, I want." The brush of his lips across her temple sent a shiver down Jordyn's spine. "I want so many things."

  "Like?"

  "A nibble here." Lightly, Murphy used his teeth to tug on Jordyn's earlobe. When her head listed to one side, he took advantage, zeroing in on her neck. "And here."

  Jordyn could barely breathe, let alone speak. However, when she wanted something, she always found a way.

  "How about here?" She pointed to her parted lips.

  The blue fire in Murphy's irises intensified as he focused on her mouth.

  "A nibble?" he asked with a quick nip. "Or a kiss?"

  "Do I have to choose?"

  "All you have to do is ask, and you shall receive." Murphy cupped Jordyn's cheek, drawing her gaze to his. "What do you want, Jordyn?"

  Silly question. Wasn't the answer obvious? However, Jordyn understood the need—the joy, the pleasure—a few simple words could provide. Who was she to deny Murphy…anything?

  "All I want is you. Any way I can have you."

  "Any way?" Murphy waggled his eyebrows.

  Men, Jordyn chuckled to herself. Give them an inch, and their brains turned kinky. In the past, she always gave her partners a definitive hell, no. But Murphy was different. In so many ways. She felt freer with him. Which opened the door, and her mind, to a new world of possibilities.

  Still, Jordyn wasn't ready to commit herself.

  "Why don't we start with a kiss? We'll see where we go from there."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  The first thing Jordyn noticed before she let herself get lost in Murphy's touch, was how soft his beard felt. Like a slightly rough layer of silk between his skin and hers. When she ran her hand over the back of his head, she marveled at how
the ends of his hair curled around her fingers as if the wayward locks wanted to keep her as close as possible.

  Jordyn sank, further and further, into a state of bliss. Why were people so consumed with the act of sex? Why skip to the end when the beginning and middle—if done with proper care and skill—made the rest so much better? Murphy didn't rush through their kiss. He lingered with bone-melting purpose.

  "Don't go," Jordyn whispered when he pulled away.

  "I'm right here."

  To prove his words, Murphy's hand slipped under the hem of her nightgown. To her hip. The small of her back. Jordyn's toes curled. Every inch of her had become an erogenous zone, her skin, ultrasensitive.

  "Perfect," Murphy sighed as he cupped her breast, the pad of his thumb brushing the hard tip.

  Jordyn licked her lips, happy to discover they tasted like Murphy. Sweetly irresistible, she couldn't get enough.

  "Ready for me?" Murphy's free hand caressed her inner thigh. One curious, talented finger slid a little further up. "Oh, yes. You're ready. And so am I."

  Once more, Murphy kissed Jordyn on the mouth. The neck. He bared her breast, his lips warm, voracious. The trail of his kisses could only lead to one place. So, Jordyn leaned back on her elbows in anticipation. However, nothing could have prepared her for the endless waves of pleasure.

  "Good?" he asked, his voice husky.

  The look in Murphy's intensely blue eyes would have taken Jordyn's breath away if she had any left to give. However, she could force one word from her throat and past her lips to let him know exactly where she was when in his arms.

  "Heaven."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  A TANGLE OF arms and legs sprawled across the mattress. Where Jordyn ended, and Murphy began, she didn't know. And she felt too good to care.

  "Don't move," she groused when Murphy rolled to his back. "I like you exactly where you are."

  "My arm went to sleep."

  Eyes closed, Jordyn heard him fluffing a pillow, and felt the whisper of cotton across her body as he adjusted the tangled bedding. She was about to complain over the disturbance to her liquid-like relaxation when Murphy tugged her up next to him.

  "Better?" he asked.

  Jordyn would concede the point. Murphy's chest was a damn fine place to rest her head.

  "I may need water," she said as her fingers absently traced the ridges that formed his perfectly formed eight-pack abs. "Soon."

  "Here you go?" Murphy handed her a bottle.

  Always the gentleman, he'd opened the top.

  "How did you—?"

  "Don't you remember? About an hour ago, I went for supplies."

  Downing half the bottle, Jordyn frowned. Where had she been? Then she smiled. Right. A post-orgasmic stupor.

  "Supplies? As in more than water? The kitchen is only a few seconds away."

  "Sometimes a few seconds is too much. Every time I thought about food, you would distract me."

  "I distracted you?" Jordyn jabbed him in the ribs. "Think again, fella."

  As though he hadn't heard, Murphy lightly kissed her, then continued.

  "So, rather than starve to death while you have your way with me, I decided to pack a few essentials. The croissants. Grapes. Strawberries. And, I think a plum. But I'm not sure."

  Jordyn eyed the bowl of fruit.

  "Mango/nectarine hybrid."

  "Huh." Murphy took a bite, chewed, and smiled. "I guess I should have come down from the mountain more often. I've missed a lot of new and interesting things."

  "Including me."

  "Nope." Murphy kissed her, the tart juice from the fruit still on his tongue. "You came to me, remember?"

  "Mother Nature and an unexpected sinkhole conspired to set us up," Jordyn reminded him. "A weird, yet ultimately providential, blind date."

  "I don't do blind dates."

  "I recently shut down Blue when she tried to set me up," Jordyn chuckled. "Not my thing either. However, when I consider how successful our encounter turned out, maybe I should give her guy a chance."

  "Or, you could just date me."

  Jordyn had meant her remark as a joke. The last thing she expected was Murphy to respond in such a way. And with a straight face.

  "I don't date baseball players."

  "Because…?"

  "Generally? I don't like to live in the spotlight."

  "I understand." Murphy's voice had acquired a cool edge. "The spotlight on me is pretty harsh."

  Jordyn pushed herself to a sitting position. She wrapped the blanket around her bare shoulders and looked Murphy in the eyes.

  "The way I feel has nothing to do with your past."

  "Right," Murphy scoffed.

  "Damn right." Jordyn sighed. "At least tell me your side before you accuse me of something I don't deserve."

  "Where do I start?"

  "The beginning? Or, say whatever pops into your head and go from there."

  Murphy scrubbed at his beard, eyes closed.

  "I was a cocky son of a bitch."

  "Was?"

  Smiling, Murphy squeezed her hand.

  "Comparatively speaking. I could play baseball at a level few men ever reach. But I didn't think of my abilities as a gift. Or a blessing. More of a God-given right."

  "Yikes. Even at his most self-involved, Spencer never crossed the arrogant asshole line."

  "I obliterated the line before I hit my senior year of high school."

  Jordyn's first instinct was to object. Surely, Murphy was too hard on himself. But the story was his to tell. His recollections. She would save her editorial opinion for when he finished.

  "What happened in high school?" was all she asked in the way of a prompt.

  "The accolades started, and I ate them up. Like junk food without a few vegetables thrown in, a steady diet of praise without an ounce of censor isn't a good thing. What I didn't realize? What nobody could see? I'd started to rot from the inside out."

  "You were a kid."

  "True," Murphy conceded. But his expression remained grim. "Unfortunately, as my body matured, my attitude didn't. I did have one thing going for me. I was almost as good a ballplayer as I thought I was."

  Jordyn wished she could erase the sadness from Murphy's eyes. She wanted to tell him to let his memories stay where they belonged. Buried in the past. But she had the feeling he needed to say the words. And, she needed to hear them.

  "For years, I only drank socially." Murphy's gaze carried a faraway look in them. "Mind you, my idea of social varied greatly from an average person's."

  "Did you drink before a game?"

  "Never," Murphy spat out.

  Jordyn hadn't asked because she doubted Murphy's integrity. She'd simply wanted to send him a reminder. No matter how black he painted himself, he'd always maintained respect for the game of baseball. And his teammates.

  "I played fourteen years in the major leagues." Murphy shook his head as if he couldn't quite grasp the fact. "I only missed a handful of games. As my body started to wear out, my alcohol consumption increased. Plus pills. And cocaine. I really loved the blow. But I was one hundred percent positive I had everything under control."

  Jordyn could feel the tension radiate from Murphy's body. She placed a hand on his thigh. A small gesture of consolation, but she didn't know what else to do.

  "You weren't in control," Jordyn said.

  "No. But I needed a major injury to drive home the point. After surgery, when I came out of the anesthetic, the first thing I heard was my mother. Sobbing. Over me. Because of what I'd done. What I'd become. I'll never forget." Murphy cleared his throat as he rubbed his chest. "The sound was like a knife through my heart."

  Unable to stand Murphy's pain a second longer, Jordyn molded her body to his, her arms around his waist. She kissed his hand, then the spot above his heart, and for his sake more than hers, did her best not to cry.

 
"I don't deserve your tears."

  "I agree," Jordyn said, proud of her steady voice. "You were an asshole. You'd alienated half the world—at least the part you occupied. But your mother never stopped loving you."

  "Now I'm going to cry." Instead, Murphy chuckled. "Zelda Baldwin is tiny, yet she's fierce. After she'd wiped her eyes, do you know what she said?"

  "What?"

  "She told me, and I quote, 'I want to bounce my grandbabies on my knee long before I die. So, my darling son. If you don't get clean and stay clean, I will kick your ass until the day I take my last breath.'"

  "I knew I liked her."

  "And, she promised to do some ass kicking from beyond the grave."

  Surreptitiously, Jordyn wiped away a single tear. She was only human.

  "I officially have a girl crush on your mother."

  Murphy laced his fingers with hers. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a warm kiss to the back.

  "Right then, I would have promised Mom anything. Keeping my word wasn't as easy."

  "But you did."

  Against her cheek, Jordyn felt his deep, heartfelt sigh.

  "Mm. I suffered through a lot of bad nights. But Mom and Dad were right by my side. I think, I know, they saved my life. They didn't like my decision to live three thousand miles away, but they didn't argue either."

  "What did they say when you decided to play ball again?"

  "I signed my contract before I told them because I was sure they'd try to change my mind. But they didn't."

  Jordyn raised her head so she could look into his eyes. What she saw was bemusement. And love. Absolute and unreserved.

  "They wished me luck. Told me to take care. And the night of my first game, they were here to cheer me on. You know what I think?"

  "Tell me."

  "I think I'm the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the earth."

  Jordyn took Murphy's face between her hands.

  "You get no argument from me." She proceeded to pepper every inch of him with kisses.

  At first, Murphy was content to lie back and let her have her way. But after a while, he decided to take control. Jordyn found herself flipped onto her back, his naked chest pressed against hers. The position felt so good—so right—she wasn't about to complain.

 

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