“What did you guys do before? Doesn’t your teacher ever wonder where your parents or your family are?” She’d asked the other boys but getting straight answers out of them was like digging in cement. She turned onto their street, her stomach rumbling, reminding her she hadn’t eaten that much at lunch.
“Nah. Carter writes my notes when I need them and told me to say my mama works lots. I gotta do my homework and be real good in class or Trav says they’ll take me away and Carter says he’ll burn my butt,” Miles told her. They’d learned to adjust, cover the blank spaces, well enough that no one had noticed. She’d barely stopped the car when Miles jumped out, seeing Ryan and his brothers in their front yard.
Frankie laughed, shaking her head. She wanted to tell him that there’d be no butt burning, but Miles didn’t seem all that concerned. Ryan caught her eye and winked. Sparks of pleasure spread through her but she tried to be nonchalant. After looking him up, she realized he probably had women fawning all over him, and then she’d had the unpleasant experience of seeing that truth first hand when they’d gone out together. Though he seemed to prefer genuine to phony, there was no need to overplay her cards. Besides, he was keeping one foot out so it was safer for her to do the same.
“Hey there, looks like you have your own baseball team,” she called out, grabbing the backpack Miles had left in the car. Carter was holding a bat and Travis was throwing a ball up, down, up, down, his eyes never leaving it. Ryan turned, put his hands on his hips, like he did. It shouldn’t be sexy. But it was.
“You’re kidding right?”
“About what?” she replied, stepping closer to him. Miles tried to catch the ball Travis was tossing.
“How many players on a team?” Ryan’s lips were smiling, but his eyes were serious.
Frankie smiled, gave a quick laugh, and stepped back. He grabbed her hand. His eyes smiled at her playfully. “Tell me you at least know how many on the field.”
The boys stopped what they were doing to look at her and she looked down at her feet, mumbling a guess.
“What’d she say?” Carter asked. She mumbled again.
“I think she said fifteen,” Miles piped up.
Ryan groaned. “Have you ever watched a baseball game?” He used his finger to nudge her chin up so she could see that he was laughing. There were a lot of important things in the Vaughn household: making a good impression, hanging out with the right people. Baseball? Not so much. Frankie smacked his chest and glared at the boys.
“Have any of you ever written a four-page spread for Cosmo? Do you know how many times you should dye your hair in a year? Do you know the top ten signs that a relationship is over or how to tell if a man is cheating?” Her voice rose at the end and though they were teasing, she felt outnumbered.
“I don’t know how to tell,” Miles said sincerely.
“I ain’t dying this mess,” Travis said in his low, monotone voice.
“Dude, we got Cosmo kicking around here?” Carter asked.
Frankie shook her head and tossed Miles his backpack. Ryan tried to take the bat from Carter, tugging on the barrel when the kid didn’t release it right away. The kid’s almost-smile disappeared when he realized they were done playing. Travis dropped the ball in Ryan’s hand and picked up Miles’s backpack for him.
“You got homework?” Travis asked. Miles shook his head and they waved, heading inside. Carter shuffled his feet and Frankie looked back and forth between him and Ryan.
“Tomorrow?” Carter asked Ryan.
“We’ll see. You need to talk about it with Frankie.”
Carter’s face scrunched in frustration, making him look, for a moment, like a regular sixteen year old instead of a weary teen with too much on his shoulders.
“Talk about what?” Frankie asked. She didn’t like being out of loops.
“He’ll talk to you. But let me talk to her first.”
“A’ight.” Carter gave a smile that looked more like a grimace and went into the house.
Frankie turned to Ryan, unsure of which of the many emotions swirling in her chest to show. He didn’t give her a chance or a choice. He put the ball and bat down and scooped her up into his arms. His mouth was on hers before she had a chance to agree or disagree. Once his lips slanted over hers, his warm mouth taking its time saying hello, her body had already made the choice. Her arms wound around him as he hugged her tighter and she had to remind herself that even if there weren’t three boys in her house, there were neighbors and they were outside. Which meant that as soon as Ryan stopped taking thrilling little nips at her jaw and gave her one more kiss, she’d put some space between them. When he did kiss her again, she sighed, falling into him completely and taking more of what she wanted. It was him who pulled back, though she told herself she would have—eventually.
“How was your day?” he asked, his voice rough like he’d just woken up. Or been kissed really well.
“It was good. I learned a few things about the system. I need to make some choices, soon, before whatever say I can have disappears entirely,” she said, trying not to show her concern.
“I could talk to a lawyer but I think, really, what’s holding you up is whether or not to keep them with you,” he said, his arms locked around her.
She cast her glance downward, staring at the pattern on his T-shirt. “Which makes me wonder why you’d want to be dating a woman who could possibly have three children in her life for a very long time. Or a woman who would let those same three children get lost in the system. A woman who writes fluffy magazine articles and doesn’t know how many players are on the field at one time,” Frankie said quietly. It was the first time she’d felt constricted in his arms.
He frowned at her words. “That kind of came out of nowhere.”
She nodded. “It just occurred to me, I guess.”
“I don’t know what I want—I’ve been straight with you about that,” he said, dropping his arms. She felt a shiver run through her from the sudden lack of heat, or possibly his tone. “But I do know that I like being with you, a lot. Those boys are great kids and I’ve seen how you are with them so I know that whatever decision you make, it will be what you think is best. There are nine players on the field, should it come up again. And if you don’t like your job, don’t do it. But don’t make it out to be something less than it is. You support yourself, and apparently three kids, doing what you do.”
He picked up the bat and she thought he was finished his rant. He came closer, towering over her so she had to tip her head back to see him. She didn’t know why these worries were slapping at her, but how much should she let herself fall when she didn’t know where she would land?
“I’m not different now that you know I used to play baseball. I’m still the same screwed up, unemployed—”
She cut him off before he could finish. “You are a national sports star. You could be anywhere, doing anything, with anyone. I’d be an idiot if I wasn’t curious or, as much as I hate to even say it out loud, a little insecure about the answers to those questions.” She couldn’t help how she felt. Mostly, she was happy with who she was, but really, she didn’t feel like she had a lot to offer a man who was used to getting everything. Telling him that only seemed to piss him off.
“I’m a retired sports star. I came here because I wanted to. I’m staying because I like it. I am doing what I want and I’ll tell you this once and you can believe me or not, but if you don’t, that’s on you. I don’t lie because I goddamn hate being lied to. If I’m with someone, I’m with them. I don’t bullshit and I don’t play games. I’m with you because you’re the first thing that’s made me wake up happy since my life started to come apart. You’re hot as hell and even though I like those boys, I can’t wait until you figure out a way to keep them all busy at the same time for a few hours just so I can prove how much I like you.”
His breath was uneven when he stopped and stared at her, his eyes daring her to question him. Her heart had made its own decision while s
he’d been listening and it was good and hooked.
“I’m not usually insecure,” she said quietly.
“Then don’t be now. You’re the first person in so long that has really seen me. Don’t stop because of what I used to be. Please,” he said quietly, cupping her cheek. She leaned into it. His hands smelled like wood and she stepped toward him.
“A few hours, huh?”
He laughed. “At least.”
She couldn’t hide her grin. “I’ll see what I can do about getting a few hours free so you can prove yourself,” she teased.
He gave a rough laugh and kissed her forehead. “You do that,” he said, still laughing when his lips found hers again for a much gentler, quicker kiss.
She watched him walk away, back to his house, the bat on his shoulder. She picked up the ball, tossed it in the air, and caught it. When he got to his porch, he turned, and though she couldn’t make out his features, she knew he was looking at her. She waved and walked toward her own house, trying to come up with a plan for finding a few hours alone with him.
Chapter 18
“I have a better idea,” Ryan said into his cell phone, as he placed a board on the saw, “how about you do what I pay you to do and get back to me with the information?”
Hearing Daniel Jennings sigh, he could picture his lawyer rubbing his forehead with his index finger and thumb the way he did when he didn’t think Ryan was making sense. Ryan smiled. Daniel’s eyebrows often stood up on end after a meeting with him.
“Ryan, come back to LA. Let’s sort some of these things out. Are you honestly happy out there in,” Daniel paused and Ryan could hear him shuffling papers, “West Lake, Minnesota?”
Ryan leaned against his worktable and considered the question. It wasn’t where he’d pictured himself growing up but he could answer the question easily enough. “Yes. Listen, you’re one of the only ones who has stood by me. I fired everyone else. Don’t make me fire you,” Ryan joked. They’d gone to school together and had been friends for more than half their lives.
“Right. Sometimes I think that might be a good idea. Okay, let me make sure I have this correct: you want me to look into starting a foundation in your name that basically funds small town sports. Also, you want to look into organizing some charity events that will raise money for bursaries and scholarships for kids that have lost their parents. What the hell did you do out there? Join a ministry?” Daniel huffed.
Ryan laughed. “No. I’m just trying to give back some of what baseball gave to me. And I have the contacts so I might as well use them.”
“Okay. I’ll get some information for you. While I have you on the phone, we have a few other things to go through.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“They’re clearing your name. The charges have been dropped and the league is issuing a formal statement in the next couple of weeks,” Daniel said.
Ryan’s heart constricted. It was good news, so why did it still feel like a knife was lodged in between his shoulder blades? “Nice that they can take their time issuing that statement. They didn’t waste any on telling the media I was suspended,” he said.
“You have every right to be pissed, man. And I told Samson as much when he called me.” The irritation in his friend’s tone went a long way toward loosening the tightness in his chest.
“The Commissioner of Baseball phoned you?” Ryan let out a low whistle between his teeth. They were back-pedaling now.
“To be fair, you fired your agent. And changed your number. They contacted Max and he directed them to me,” Daniel said.
Ryan switched the phone to his other ear, hating the feel of the screen against his face. “The media is going to be all over this. Again.” Ryan ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends.
“Um. Yeah.”
The tiny hairs on the back of Ryan’s neck stood up. He paced the length of his shop, inhaling the crisp air.
“What?” He tried to keep his voice level.
“Victoria’s lawyer contacted me. She’s trying to say that your divorce has led to lost wages that she would have made if you’d gone through with that reality show offer,” Daniel said, disgust dripping off every syllable.
Ryan resisted the urge to toss his phone and took a steadying breath. God, he was tired of this shit. She was out of his life and still doing her best to piss him off. He walked to the small fridge he’d picked up for the garage and pulled out a beer.
“I told her no before she finished telling me about that, when we were still married. There’s no loss of income when it was never going to happen,” Ryan said, popping the top and taking a long drink. It tasted sour going down his throat but it was most likely just the conversation about his ex, wrecking another good thing.
“I know. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
Ryan gripped the phone tighter. “Thanks for that. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Do what you can to make it go away. Can’t you countersue or something?”
Daniel gave a gruff laugh, but Ryan knew his friend was as pissed off about Victoria’s bullshit as he was. “She’s looking for another pay off.”
Ryan shook his head. “She’s gotten all she’s getting from me. Let her try for more. She won’t get anywhere.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before Ryan said he had to go. He plugged his phone into the docking station and blared some One Republic, pushing Victoria out of his mind the way he should have pushed her out of his life years ago.
He wasn’t there anymore and even though he hadn’t thought he would ever want a woman for more than a few hours again, just thinking about Frankie made him wonder what she was doing. As he began marking the wood and sawing the lengths he needed, he thought that if he compared the two women, they’d be in two distinct categories: Everything he’d never want again and everything he hadn’t known he was missing.
He worked for over an hour, shaping the wood into legs for the first piece of furniture he had planned out. It was going to be a nightstand for his bedroom. If he messed it up, at least it wasn’t where anyone would see it. Except maybe Frankie. He hoped. Because he liked his fingers, he didn’t let himself think too much about his bedroom and Frankie while the saw was still buzzing. The oak would look good with a coat of varnish. The legs were long to accommodate his high bed and because he liked the overall look of a tall nightstand. He surveyed his handiwork and was impressed that he’d done so well after so long.
“What’s that?” Carter asked, shuffling into the garage.
“It’s going to be a table. For beside my bed,” Ryan answered, noting that Carter had shown up on time.
“Cool. You ever made one before?” The boy ran his hand over one of the four legs that Ryan had shaped.
“It’s been a long time. Did you go speak to the coach?” Ryan asked. Carter lifted his gaze to Ryan’s and shrugged.
“You don’t know?” Ryan’s frustration clipped his tone.
“Dude said I gotta be in school to be on the team,” Carter said, his voice rising.
Ryan pulled the safety goggles off his head and tossed them on the workbench.
“I told you that would be the case. Did you ask about doing distance education like your brother?”
“Yeah. He said that if I can prove I’m enrolled I can try out.”
“I don’t know why you sound like he pissed on your bagel, but this is a good step,” Ryan said, wondering if he’d been this moody at sixteen. Carter shuffled his feet and then picked up the wood scraps that Ryan had on the floor and tossed them into a large bin.
“I can’t do distance ed, man. I ain’t Trav. I ain’t as smart as him and I freaking hate school work, dude,” Carter said.
“First, stop calling me ‘dude.’ Second, a deal is a deal. I help you with baseball if you start going to school. Frankie have a computer she’ll let you use?” Ryan asked.
“Probably not. She’s got a laptop but she’s always worried about us finding out twenty ways to please a man,
like I wanna know that shit,” Carter said, half laughing, half cringing. Ryan’s body stirred at the thought of Frankie not only writing about that topic, but trying it out on him. He bet she knew a lot more ways than twenty.
“All right, well, go on in and use mine. Get registered, print out the proof, and then we’ll practice a bit,” Ryan said, smiling.
As Carter turned to go, Travis came up the walk. Travis was the closed book of these three. Polite enough, but definitely wound tighter than the other two. Whatever their story, Carter wore it in attitude, Miles wore it in his need for affection, and Travis kept it zipped up tightly. Ryan figured that, eventually, that zipper was going to bust apart.
“Hey,” Travis said. Unless he was talking to Miles, Travis said only what he had to.
“Your brother was just about to go set up his online classes,” Ryan told him.
“You really gonna teach him to play ball?” Travis asked.
“I’ll show him a few things. As long as he’s working towards his diploma. And helping Frankie out,” Ryan answered. He picked up a piece of sandpaper to smooth the legs of the table before setting it aside. Travis watched him closely; Ryan couldn’t read the kid no matter how hard he tried.
“How you doing?” Ryan asked.
Travis shrugged. Ryan waited him out. Something was up or the kid wouldn’t be looking at his feet, shuffling them.
“I think Frankie’s birthday is coming up,” Travis said. He wore his hair in a ponytail but it was the thickest one Ryan had ever seen on account of all the braids, or maybe knots, that were wrapped together.
Ryan waited until Travis looked at him. “Why do you think that?”
“I heard her on the phone telling someone that she didn’t need them to come here for her birthday and even if they did, she wasn’t feeling like going out.” Travis picked up one of the legs and examined it, his lips pushed together like he was trying to figure out what he was looking at.
Ryan picked up the sandpaper again. “Hmm. Seems likely, I guess. She hasn’t said anything but I’m not sure she’s the type that would,” Ryan said. He returned to smoothing the rough spots of wood.
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