“I suppose.” Now that she knew whom—and where—he was, she had no good reason to keep Tara from him.
No good reason? The voice in her head shrieked. How about 3,472 of them? Lu’s Google search had come up with at least that many hits, and every one they’d clicked on had shown Dave in an unflattering light.
“Then let’s get on with it.”
When his breath tickled Mel’s ear, she momentarily forgot the photographic proof of his wild streak. Only one night mattered—the hot, steamy, best sex of her sheltered, almost-twenty-year-old, only-slept-with-one-other-man life one.
Mel clamped a tight lid on the dangerous feelings. No good could come of remembering that night.
“When do you want to meet her?” She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. Don’t say today.
“What’s wrong with right now?”
She hated that another mousy squeak escaped her throat. “I can’t just walk up to Tara and say, ‘Hi, sweetie. This is your daddy.’”
“Why not?”
“You trying to traumatize her?”
Dave tightened his arms around her to the point that it took her breath away. He set her back on her feet with a somewhat sheepish grin that hinted at a man much different than what the Internet portrayed. “Sorry. What have you told her about her father?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” His grin flip-flopped.
Ah. There was the jerk from Google. The transformation gave her strength to stand her ground. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’ve been explaining myself to my parents, and the entire town of Brannen, all my life. She’s four. It hasn’t come up.”
“She’s not curious?”
“We’re familiar with alternative lifestyles, even here in north Texas.” She flashed him a teasing grin. “I’m pretty sure she thinks she has two mommies, like her friend Timmy.”
When Dave started spluttering, Mel headed for the exit. Scoring the win made the confrontation worthwhile.
Before she’d gone more than ten yards, he was behind her. “We aren’t done yet.”
Damn. There went her win. Her heart racing, she turned to face him. “We aren’t?”
“Lin, I don’t want to force the issue. I’ll give you as much time as I can.” He offered her a tentative smile. “We play the Tornadoes again tomorrow night and the next afternoon. Why don’t you two come to Sunday’s game, and we’ll go out afterward—grab some pizza or ice cream or something kid-friendly.”
She had to admit he was trying. Even if he was a womanizer of the worst kind, he was still Tara’s daddy. She owed him that much. “I guess we’ll see you Sunday.”
Chapter Three
Showered and dressed in street clothes, Dave and Matt sprawled in side-by-side lounge chairs in the hotel bar. Hitting local watering holes to pick up chicks didn’t appeal to either of them.
Dave was beginning to wonder why it ever had. Why hadn’t he considered the consequences? “I appreciate your hanging with me, man, but I won’t be good company tonight.”
He slammed down half a bottle of Bud as he tried, unsuccessfully, to tune out the piano’s strains of “Like a Virgin.”
“I’m not here for your charming personality,” Matt said with a chuckle. “Go ahead and vent.”
Grunting, Dave drained his beer and signaled the waitress for another.
“Better nurse that one for at least an hour. I don’t want to have to carry you upstairs.”
He waved toward the lobby. “There’s an elevator.”
“It’s a figure of speech, Sherlock. So what’s wrong?”
“This morning, I was Dave Reynolds, Condors shortstop. Tonight, I’m a dad who’ll probably be out of a job at the end of the season.”
Matt fixed him with “The Look”—the one that said he was full of crap. “You knew this day was coming, man.”
What? For once, Matt was way off base. “I should have expected Lin to have had my baby behind my back?”
“Not that, dumbass. The ultimatum from Jerry. The new owners have ties to Disney. Of course they want to be ‘family-friendly.’”
“I’ll never be squeaky clean.” He took a slug of his just-delivered beer.
“Not necessary. You just have to live a life you’re not ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Not even about the drugs?”
The bite of Budweiser suddenly coated Dave’s tongue with bitter regret. He took another drink to wash it away and then stared at his hands. After living at home with his mom while attending college at Arizona State University, he got his first taste of true freedom when he signed with the Condors. Consuming recreational drugs by the handful was one thing he totally regretted. Biggest mistake of his life.
“That’s in the past. I worked through the Twelve Steps, made amends, and all that jazz. Did my stint in rehab and haven’t popped anything stronger than ibuprofen since.”
Matt nodded. “And that’s all good. But you wanna know how to make your image shine?”
“Enlighten me.” Matt’s ideas were golden.
“Use your newfound family. Once the press latches on, they’ll have to see you’re more than a party animal.”
Relief surged through him. Using the kid to bolster his image wasn’t as selfish as he’d first thought if the most upstanding, moral person he knew recommended it. Still, he hesitated.
Matt pushed. “I can give Ted Jones a call. It’s only fair that he help reverse the damage to your rep, since most of it comes from the articles he’s written.”
Dave grunted. “That’s what happens when a teammate turns sports columnist: tall tales.”
“Did you forget who you’re talking to? You’ve relegated me to bunking on the floor with someone else too many times to count. Ted’s tales are true.”
“Maybe. But now that I’ve talked to Lin, I’m not sure—”
Matt didn’t let him finish the thought. “You’re falling for her ‘accident’ routine?”
“Maybe the pregnancy was an honest mistake.” Dave took a long drink, and when he set the bottle down, half of it was gone. So much for nursing it. “You know what’s worse?”
Matt shook his head.
“My little girl’s been on this earth for four years without her daddy. Apparently, she thinks she’s got two mommies.”
Beer sprayed from Matt’s nose. “What?”
“I already took a shower, thanks.” Dave shook drops of beer from his arm—damn waste of Guinness, if you asked him. “That’s what Lin said. Guess she’s still keeping company with that mouthy red-headed friend.”
“The one who turned Ted down?” Matt grinned. “Maybe she does have two mommies. Ted said she had balls of steel.”
“Ted’s an idiot.”
“No argument there. But maybe they are a couple.”
“Maybe pigs have wings, too. Lin definitely liked men.” He paused for a thoughtful sip. “In fact, I got the feeling she still wanted me.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, man. I don’t want to see you get arrested.”
“I wouldn’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
Matt sipped his Guinness. “I doubt the guy who left her pregnant and alone is high on her to-do list.”
“She left me, man. Disappeared before I woke up, leaving nothing but a trace of perfume and the lacy pink panties wrapped around my foot.”
“I remember.” Matt chuckled. “At least she left you a prize. You just hump and dump.”
Dave polished off Bud number two and ordered a third. His mother, the Condors’ owners and even Matt thought he needed to change. They couldn’t all be wrong. Could they?
“Maybe I do want to change my ways.”
“Atta boy.” Matt slugged his arm.
“I said ‘maybe.’”
“More commitment than you’ve made in years.” He looked thoughtful. “This kid and her barely-legal Texas bombshell mother might have turned up just in time save you from
yourself. What now?”
“Lin’s bringing her to Sunday’s game and we’re going out afterward.”
Matt’s eyebrows shot sky-high. “Out? As a family?”
“’Sthe plan.” He heard the slurred reply and groaned.
He dropped his head to the table. His family life was off to a great start if both his kid’s parents drank too much.
****
Mel stood in the doorway between her cheery yellow kitchen and living room, watching Tara attack a coloring book with the laser focus she displayed at home plate.
She wished she had her daughter’s ability to concentrate. But her brain had been in overdrive since running into Muscles again. How could she tell Tara about her Daddy?
“Wait for the right time and the words will come,” Lu had advised.
The right time? Mel snorted. There’d never be a right time—and it was already Saturday evening. With the game less than twenty-four hours away, she couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Sweetheart?” It was all Mel could do not to wince at her halting tone. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t notice.
Tara glanced up from her task.
Keep it light, she reminded herself as she looked into Tara’s clear hazel eyes. You don’t want her to notice. “Did you have a good time at the game yesterday?”
“Uh-huh.” Her head bobbed in time with her voice.
“Wanna go see another game tomorrow?”
A grin lit her face. “Can I?” When Mel nodded, she scrunched her nose, deep in thought. “Do I get to be a very special person again?”
“You’re always special to me, baby. But, no, you won’t be going on the field again.” When she hesitated, Tara returned to her coloring. Just do it, the voice of reason ordered. Mel laid a hand on her baby’s back to get her attention. “Sweetie, after the game, we’re going to see someone who wants very much to meet you.”
Without looking up, Tara exchanged the green crayon she’d been using to color Mickey Mouse’s ears for an orange one. She started filling in his tongue. “Who?”
“Your daddy.” Mel swallowed an urge to bolt for the bathroom to throw up.
“Daddy?” The confusion clouding her hazel eyes gave way to a wide smile. “My daddy!”
She swallowed. How could she have been so selfish? If Tara was this excited at the mere mention of the man, she obviously needed a father.
You did what you had to do. The only thing you could do. The best thing for all of you, if even one-quarter of the things you’ve read about Dave Reynolds these last 24 hours are true.
She nodded. “Yes sweetie, your daddy.”
“Okay.” Tara went back to filling in Mickey’s shoe with the orange crayon.
She watched Tara color and counted down the seconds for her little brain to finish digesting the news and start grilling her for details. By the time she finished Mickey and started in on Donald Duck’s blue bill, Mel was about to jump out of her skin.
“Don’t you have any questions?”
“’Bout what?”
“Your daddy.”
She shook her head.
“No?” She should be grateful for Tara’s lack of curiosity, but it was too good to be true. “You’re usually full of questions.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yes you are.”
Tara returned to coloring. “Everyone has a daddy. Gramma said mine’d turn up venshally.”
“She did?” Tara’s head bobbed and Mel made a note to ask her mother when and how that subject had come up. Just not now. Keeping up with an active four-year-old and running her interior design business already amounted to two full-time jobs. Freaking out over her baby’s no-longer-absent father would add too much to her workload.
At ten o’clock that night, heavy thuds on the door startled Mel from a nightmare-filled sleep. She pulled on her robe and ran downstairs to answer the door before the banging roused Tara.
Muscles slouched against the doorframe, knuckles raised to rap again. She put herself between him and the door to keep that from happening. Trouble was, it put her close to him. Too close, she thought when his appreciative gaze heated her cheeks.
She pulled the thin cotton more tightly around herself and wished for a more substantial robe. “What on earth are you doing here?”
He stood straighter. “Just making sure we’re on for tomorrow. You didn’t sound so certain.”
Because I wasn’t, she thought, surprised he was perceptive enough to notice. “You had to drive all the way out here to do it? You couldn’t just pick up the phone?”
“You didn’t give me your number. Or your address. I had to stop at the Texaco in Brannen for directions to your place.”
“You stopped in town?” Melinda’s heart beat faster.
He nodded. “Talked to a very friendly woman named Fran.”
She stifled a groan. Not giving Dave her contact info was turning out to be another mistake. Fran Michaels was one of Brannen’s biggest gossips—and one of her father’s detractors. With Dave looking for her at an hour when decent folks were in bed, the nosy old biddy was armed with new ammunition. “I should have given you my phone number.”
“You won’t hear me arguing.”
She peered past him. No signs of life along the deserted country road at the moment, but someone could drive by. She weighed her options. She could let him stay on her porch or invite him inside and risk waking Tara. Since he’d meet Tara soon enough anyway, that seemed the lesser of two evils. She didn’t need any neighbors seeing Mr. Sexy-as-Sin loitering on her porch when she wore next to nothing. “Might as well come inside.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
His rich baritone sent shivers racing down her spine.
Where the hell did that come from? She wanted as little to do with this man and his bad reputation as possible.
Then why invite him inside? You don’t know a thing about him. He could murder you.
She rolled her eyes. Dave Reynolds might be a lot of things, but killer wasn’t one of them. Lady-killer, yes—but not serial killer. She led him to the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table. Dave slid into the chair across from her. “So we’re on for tomorrow?”
“You’re surprised? I’m a woman of my word, and I said we’d be there.”
He snorted. “You say a lot of things that turn out not to be true.”
Ouch. Okay, maybe she deserved that. But she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “I promised you no strings attached, didn’t I? And I kept my word, even though it would have been easier to let Daddy hire someone to track you down.”
“You should have.” He slammed his hand down on the table. “A baby changed the game.”
Mel jumped. “Hush! Tara’s asleep upstairs.”
“I have every right to be pissed. You said it was safe.” He paused. “Besides, you left me, remember?”
Her temper flared. “Why are you heaping all the blame on me? I woke up first, but if it had been you, you’d have ditched me.”
“What’d I do to give you such a low opinion of me?”
“Besides let me pick you up in a trashy bar?” Maybe he really was slow. “Have you Googled yourself lately?”
“That’s not something I like to discuss in mixed company.”
In no mood for bad jokes, Mel rolled her eyes. “Good to know Tara’s father is such a comedian.”
“Laughter’s good for you.”
Ordinarily, she’d agree. But Dave’s reputation was no laughing matter—not to her or to her family. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Check Google. I’ll wait.”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, hit a few buttons and bellowed. “What the fuck?”
“I hope you don’t intend to use that language around our daughter.”
He had enough sense to at least pretend to be contrite. “I’m sorry, Lin, but that…crap isn’t what it looks like.”
“You mean you don’t party with anything with a pulse?” Figured he was the “deny
everything” kind.
He’s not denying Tara. Yet, anyway. Give him a few days. He’d already mentioned a DNA test.
“Nope.”
“What were you doing? Shooting an underwear commercial?”
He let out a choked laugh. “As a matter of fact—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Scout’s honor.” He cleared his throat. “Small startup company called BarelyThere. They offered me a few thousand bucks to be in their ad. Their slogan was…” He deepened his voice to a husky whisper. “…Nothing’s sexier than next to nothing.”
The shivers were back. Wow. She ignored them and refocused. The explanation was believable—except for one detail. “I’ve never heard of BarelyThere underwear.”
“That’s because the company folded before it got off the ground. Some petty argument between the two owners. Pictures started showing up online—without my permission—a couple months later. Damn things multiply like rabbits.”
She was still skeptical. “Any sane person would have sued.”
“Why bother? Once something’s in cyberspace, it’s there forever.” Dave shrugged. “Besides, fighting would have cost me more than I made in the initial deal.”
Mel steered the conversation away from money. “You expect me to believe that?”
He dropped his head in his hands. “Not sure why I even told you about BarelyThere. I’m a little buzzed.”
“I figured as much.” She’d just been too much of a lady to mention it. She believed her mamma when she said, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
You don’t want to catch Muscles. True. Especially if he was dumb enough to be drinking and driving. “You planning to drink and drive with Tara in the car?”
“Hell no. I’m buzzed, not drunk.”
“Same difference,” she muttered. “But if you think you’re sober enough to drive, I assume you’re sober enough to discuss Tara.”
“Of course.” His tone sharpened. “You told her about me?”
“I said we were going to another game and afterward her daddy wanted to meet her.”
“And?”
Mel winced at how hungry he sounded for details. Tough. She didn’t have any to give him. “She seemed happy about meeting you, but she didn’t ask any questions.”
Diva In The Dugout (All Is Fair In Love And Baseball) Page 3