Caught Looking

by Holford, Jody;

  “I’m going to be helping out with the high school baseball team,” Ryan said. Frankie turned toward him. It was too dark to see much, but she could make out his profile, his strong shoulders, and the curve of his arm.

  “Why?”

  He glanced her way. “Let’s just say that politics start early in sports.”

  “Ryan.”

  “Frankie, it’s fine. I want to see Carter on that team. Sports can change a kid’s life for the better,” he said, giving her leg another quick squeeze before putting his hand back on the steering wheel.

  “Is that what it did for you?

  “Mostly. Yes. It gave me an escape.” He said the words in a low tone but they vibrated through the air.

  Like the boys, Ryan kept a lot of himself tucked in tightly. There was information about him online but Frankie wanted what came from him. He spoke of his brother and his mom. She knew he cared for them and his sister-in-law. Before she could think of how to word her next question, he continued speaking into the darkness. Maybe it was easier that way.

  ”I started playing because of my old man. He had very clear ideas of what having sons would involve and if we couldn’t toss a ball or hit one, we were useless. Of course, even when Max and I both proved to be good at it, we were never good enough.”

  “Did your brother play?” She turned the music down so it was barely a hum.

  “He went to university on a scholarship. But he found something he loved more than baseball—education. He’s a professor at UCLA. He met Shay there.”

  Wanting to touch him, to feel closer to him, she reached out and took his hand, happy that his fingers curled around hers immediately.

  “When I realized I was good, when I started getting scouted, I knew that it was my ticket out. I worried about leaving my mom with him, which is why I waited until I graduated.” His words sounded far away, like he was lost in the memories he was bringing to the surface.

  “He hit her?” The words tasted sour in her mouth.

  “All of us.”

  The hard pinch of anger surprised her—Frankie could never imagine hurting someone else, let alone someone weaker, someone you loved. Someone you were supposed to protect. “Ryan. I’m sorry.”

  He glanced over at her, a streetlight giving her a glimpse of the sadness in his eyes. “I survived. Besides, it pushed me forward and gave me a bargaining chip. My mom was so excited for me. I used that. I told her I wouldn’t go. I wouldn’t take a scholarship or try to make it to the show unless she left him.”

  Frankie smiled. She could see eighteen-year-old Ryan being stubborn enough to dig his heels in and get his own way. More than once, she’d seen hints of similarity between Carter and Ryan.

  “I think, without really understanding it, I knew then that when you really love someone, you do for them what you wouldn’t do for yourself. She was willing to put up with his shit for all those years, she’d have done anything for us. But she wouldn’t leave him for herself. She did it for me.”

  “And you did it for her.” Tears burned the back of Frankie’s eyes as she held them wide, not wanting them to fall. Ryan stopped at a stop sign, the streets around them empty. He looked over at her and leaned toward her. He kissed her gently and quickly, and smiled.

  “Yeah. Partially. Don’t get me wrong, I love baseball. But I think I love the game more than I love playing. Does that make any sense?” he asked, turning his focus back to the road.

  “It does. You can be really good at something and still want something different. That’s how it was for me. My family wanted me to write hard news. I’m a good writer but they don’t see writing for the publications I do as real. We spend a lot of time making choices that give others happiness but I think you can only do that for so long.”

  She was staring at him when he pulled up his driveway. He turned off the truck, undid his belt, and moved closer to her on the bench seat.

  “I didn’t think they still made trucks with bench seats,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. He made her want to do that a lot.

  “Honey, they’ll make anything if you’re willing to pay for it,” he said, a low laugh following his words. Their thighs were touching when he put his hand in her hair and continued to just look at her. She gripped his wrist and leaned into him.

  “Ryan, what if I don’t get them back? I’ll feel like I failed them,” she whispered.

  “I think that you do everything you can to get what you want and then, regardless of what happens, you just have to know you did all you could.” He kissed her lightly before pulling back.

  “What do you want?”

  “You.” He said it so quickly that her breath caught. He’d told her he couldn’t make promises but he was making her want them. Badly.

  “Even with them?”

  He leaned back against the bench, moving his hands from her body to run them through his own hair like he did when he was thinking or tired.

  “As a teen I focused on getting out of the house. When I got signed, all I wanted was to prove myself. And I did. I wanted to be one of the best hitters in baseball and becoming one gave me everything I wanted. But it also took everything.”

  She didn’t know if she should respond so she nodded into the darkness and waited for him to continue. He turned and bent his knee as he faced her.

  “I thought for a while that being a star, having money, that it would fix everything. I wouldn’t hate my dad. I could help my mom. Pay off Max’s loans. People wanted to just be in the same room with me. I could have any woman I wanted.”

  She made a rude noise and looked away when he grinned. He nudged her face back and pressed his lips to hers, lavishing her with a sweetness she hadn’t expected.

  “I’m going somewhere with this. I promise.” When he kissed her again, her mind played the words “I promise” on repeat, making them into more than they were. She told herself it was an expression, not a subtle shift in what he wanted. Her chest felt tight and the cold of the cab was closing in around them. He leaned back, took her hand, and watched his thumb run back and forth over it.

  “In the middle of having everything, wondering what I wanted next, I had my best friend set me up for possession,” he started again. She didn’t want to interrupt, but she had to know from him, not just from the media sites she’d read.

  “Did you use drugs?

  “No. Never. Cal did. I thought it was more recreational than it was. I thought a lot of things that turned out to be wrong. He borrowed my car, that wasn’t unusual. We’d both been at practice, he said he had to run an errand. We went out together that night and I got pulled over. Cop asks to see my registration, Cal’s getting antsy, I open the glove box and out fall four little baggies of coke. Practically on Cal’s lap. Cop looks further in, Cal says, ‘What the fuck?’ and the cop tells us to get out of the vehicle.”

  “You had no idea?”

  “No. I don’t even know why the hell he put it in there in the first place except that he was using so much he wanted to make sure he had a stash for later? I don’t know. But when the cop asked about it and I said it wasn’t mine, I looked at Cal, knowing it was his, and he didn’t say a word. We could have made it past that. He was my friend and he froze. I got that. But when they questioned us separately, Cal told them that he thought it was mine. That he thought I was a recreational user. Do you want to go in? It’s getting cold. You’re starting to shiver.”

  “Will you finish the story?”

  “Yes. I had a point, remember?” He tugged a strand of her hair playfully before getting out and coming around to her side.

  They settled themselves in the living room that she was growing to love. Her heart pinched, and she told herself not to think that word about his stuff or him, thinking it could cause her to slip up and say it. The heat from the fire seeped into her bones. The number of fireplaces in his house should be standard in cold areas. She would have settled for one that didn’t need real wood. He grabbed a couple of beers and brought t
hem out, popping the top on both before sitting down beside her. As the fire flickered, she slid closer to him and put her feet over his lap. They each sipped their beers, before he took them and put them on the coffee table. He rubbed her foot absently with one hand, and she tried not to sigh out loud in pleasure. She failed, making him smile and lean in to kiss her.

  “Well? You had a reason for bringing up having any woman you wanted.”

  He grinned and kissed her again, slowly, taking his time. His kisses were a strong distraction, or maybe it was just knowing how good he was at what came after kissing.

  “I could have, and did have, everything I wanted. Or thought I wanted. When Cal blamed me for the drugs, it was everywhere. I’d been a part of several anti-drug campaigns launched for teens. I was a spokesperson for three brands. I lost all of that. Victoria took Cal’s side. We were separated. We had problems even before any of this shit came up but she came to see me and said that Cal had already been on probation. I would get a slap on the wrist and face some bad press, but he could go to jail.”

  “Bitch.” Frankie’s stomach twisted when she thought how he must have felt having the one person who should have stood by him no matter what betray him. In so many ways. He smiled at her and gave her a loud, playful kiss.

  “She was actually.” He laughed but his tone sobered when he continued. “I wasn’t very nice. I told her that she should be screwing him instead of me if she believed in him so much. She said she already was.”

  “Oh my God, Ryan.”

  “In hindsight, telling you all this might ruin where I’m meaning to go with this story.”

  “Just finish it.”

  He sighed, put an arm along the back of the couch and played with a lock of her hair. “It was one of those things where I wasn’t even surprised. We’d talked briefly about trying again but I knew I didn’t want to. I had already talked to Daniel about divorcing her. When I found out, I was hurt and severely pissed. But not surprised. When I went to confront Cal, I told him that Vicky had told me everything. He started crying and telling me how sorry he was and he forgot he’d stashed it in there. That he was in love with my wife. I told him that if he didn’t straighten things out, tell the truth, that I’d ruin Victoria financially. We had an ironclad prenup, thanks to my lawyer, who trusts no one. I told him I’d ruin them both. He believed me. He gave a statement to the press the following day. But of course, everything was already in motion so it just created more press. I filed for divorce.”

  “Wow. And here you are.”

  His arm came around her now, sliding off the couch, and his other hand slid up her leg. ”Yes. I mean, they had to clear the charges officially and I was still on suspension but that’s starting to get sorted through as well. My name was cleared by the police and the baseball commissioner is issuing a statement about my wrongful suspension.”

  “Ryan, that’s really good. Why didn’t you tell me?” He shrugged, looked down at his hand on her leg.

  “It just happened last week and I don’t really know what it means yet. There’s been other stuff going on and it’s not where my head was at I guess,” he said.

  Frankie bit her lip. His name was cleared. He’d get his job back. He didn’t make promises. His life here was just a stopover, a temporary hideout from the mess in LA. Her stomach turned uneasily.

  “And here you are,” she said again, her voice surprisingly steady. He looked up, flashed her a smile, and nodded.

  “I hate the way it happened but I’m not sorry it brought me here. I was tired of a lot of things but I kept going, you know? You don’t break the rut if it’s working. If you don’t look too closely, you can convince yourself you’re happy.”

  “But you weren’t.” Frankie swallowed the lump in her throat.

  He shook his head and kissed her forehead.

  “No. I wanted a change. Needed one. There was nothing there for me anymore. I was done with LA, I think, even before all of this blew up. And then after, well. My team wasn’t there when I needed them. Though, looking back, some of them tried harder than I gave them credit for. The only thing I miss is Max and Shay. And my mom.”

  “I’d like to meet them one day.” She shifted, tucked her legs beside her, which brought their chests closer.

  “I want you to. Where I was leading, where I meant to go with all of this, was to say that when I came here, it was to focus on myself because I thought I’d lost who I was, or who I wanted to be. Even when I told myself to stay away, not get distracted by you, not to fall for you, I couldn’t help it.”

  “I don’t think you really tried that hard,” she teased, watching him closely, trying to read his mood. He laughed and his eyes smiled. He’d put the past away. His finger drew circles on her leg and she could feel it through her jeans. On her skin.

  “No. Because I was drawn to you right away. Which pissed me off so I was kind of a jerk. Which I should apologize for. But I wanted you from the minute I saw you. And not just because you’re gorgeous, though I could spend hours looking at you, touching you, kissing you,” he said, doing just that before continuing, “and not get enough. I like who I am when I’m with you. When I’m with the kids. It makes me feel like I’m part of something real. Something good. Like I’m…good.”

  “Ryan,” she said, her breath and her heart caught in her throat. She put both of her hands on his face and locked her eyes on his, willing him to hear her. “You are good. And real. You are one of the best men I’ve ever met. You have more passion and drive and integrity than anyone I know. You’ve spent so much of your life focused on what you do that it’s no wonder you lost a bit of who you are.”

  He covered her hands with his and leaned into her so their noses were touching, so they were breathing each other’s air. ”I like who I am with you, Frankie. Being with you and the boys has made me like who I am period. You asked if I wanted you, even with them, but I’m the one that should be asking if you want me. Being with you makes me realize how unhappy I really was,” he said. He took a deep breath and when he exhaled, she felt the warmth of it across her chest, her neck. His eyes were locked on hers and she could see her reflection in them. He gripped her hands tighter. Her heart hammered and her breath came in short spurts. She could feel her pulse everywhere.

  “I know I said I don’t make promises but you make me want to. I don’t know if that’s enough for you but you’re the first person, other than my family, I’ve felt like I can’t be without. I want to be with you, whether you write articles for Cosmo, adopt ten kids, even if you can’t cook and you know nothing about the greatest sport in the world. I thought I had everything so I never knew what I was missing. It was you.”

  It wasn’t a declaration of love. She pushed past the disappointment, the tiny rip in her heart when the words weren’t spoken. It was enough, for now. It was already more than she’d expected, these feelings and this connection. Tears trailed down her cheeks. He hadn’t said those three words but, knowing him, she thought maybe what he had said was just as powerful. He got up, left the room for a minute and came back with a roll of toilet paper, smiling sheepishly and handing it to her.

  “I know…it’s not…shit, I’m really bad at this. I know it might not be enough, Frankie. You deserve everything and I’m giving you crumbs. But I promise you that with you is where I want to be. I feel like you’re a part of me. I’m—”

  She cut him off. “It’s enough. You’re who I want to be with. I don’t need anything more than this. You and the boys…you make me feel like I matter,” she said softly, her voice cracking.

  He pulled her close and stared into her eyes so intently she couldn’t help but see his emotions. “You do matter. So much it scares me. I wasn’t ready for this, but I can’t walk away.”

  “Good. Because I feel like we belong here. Together.” She nodded her head, still sniffling. His smile came slowly, like the sun rising in the morning, easing its way until it was all she could see, until it made the room brighter.

 
She started to say more but his mouth stopped hers, his body pushing against hers, until he was over her, telling her that she was his and that she made him better. She tried to give back, to tell him that they made each other better. That he was one of four people who had ever made her feel like she was enough. Exactly as she was. She’d figure out a way to get the other three back in her life, but for that moment, everything she had to give: her body, her heart, every whisper and touch, every thought, it was all for him. And still, she wished she could give him more.

  Chapter 29

  Ryan wasn’t a sappy guy. He’d grown up rough, learned to fight for what he wanted, even if it was just to get out of his father’s grip. He didn’t mind working his ass off for something. Sometimes, his single mindedness came off as aloof. But he wasn’t. He was just focused. Except for lately. He’d stopped focusing on how to get his life back, on how to pay back the people who had betrayed him.

  Instead, more often than not, he was thinking about a sexy blonde and the way his stomach flipped when she laughed. Or the way her skin felt when he ran his hands over her. Or the way she answered all of Miles’s questions without being frustrated and let Carter’s attitude roll of her shoulders. She got Travis to open up without pushing too hard. He’d come dangerously close to telling her he loved her the other night. Thank God, sanity had taken over and he’d kept the words at bay. He wanted to be with her; could see what they had lasting. But saying he loved her was just asking for a cut that wouldn’t heal.

  As he parked his truck in the staff parking lot, he wondered if Carter would be at practice. Frankie had been to see them again but the process for becoming a foster parent was slow going. They were still with Nelson and Sue, which was a little odd, given they were an emergency home. But what the hell did he know? He pressed the alarm for his truck and walked toward the gym, a wave of nostalgia tripping him up.

  He’d loved ball in high school. He’d loved it since he was a kid. But once he’d decided to go pro, his sights had fixated and every practice, every throw, every minute had been about not messing it up. His drive to get away from his father, to prove himself, coupled with innate talent had pushed him far and fast. He’d never looked back and he’d never stood still. So when he’d had to, when all the bricks came tumbling down around him, he’d shifted his focus to getting out of the wreckage.