by S. E. Rose
A sleepy-eyed Tabby walks into my kitchen, and I can tell something is wrong.
“What’s the matter?” I ask as I walk over to her. I feel her forehead to make sure her fever isn’t back, but she feels fine.
“I’m better. It’s not that.”
I wait for her to continue but I see her eyes get glassy with unshed tears, and I immediately jump into Superman-mode as the siblings would say. I pick her up and set her on my island, stepping between her legs and holding her face in my hands. Her eyes meet mine as her chin wobbles.
“What’s wrong, kitten?”
She takes a deep breath. “Arson,” she manages before big fat tears start running down her cheeks. “It’s arson. I can’t get the insurance money. I don’t know when I can get into another place. What am I going to do?”
“Whoa. Hold up. Arson?”
She nods. “The insurance guy just called.”
She turns her phone around, and I read the email. Shit.
“Tabby, this is bad. Who would do this?”
She shrugs, but I can see in her eyes that she has a person in mind.
“Tabby,” I repeat.
She closes her eyes and swallows. “The only person that I can think of is Eric,” she whispers, opening her eyes again.
“Eric?”
She nods and lets out a shaky breath. “My ex.”
“What ex?”
“We broke up a few months ago. Well, I finally wised up after he got…aggressive. Anyhow, he kept calling and showing up. I blocked his number. I tried to stay away from him. I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, so I figured he was finally giving up…but…I don’t know. I…there’s no one else that would do this. And…I’ve gotten some messages.”
“What?” I practically growl.
She sighs and pulls up her emails on her phone. Her business emails. She clicks on one, and I read it.
Tabby – Please unblock me. You know we belong together. What do I have to do to prove this to you?
I read another one.
Tabitha – This is really beneath you. Stop playing these silly games. You are going to regret telling our friends your lies.
They get progressively worse and more aggressive. But it’s the last one that has my blood boiling.
Fine, be a cunt. You think you’re so much better than me? Have it your way.
“Tabby, did you show these to the police?”
She shakes her head. “What’s the point? He won’t admit anything. What am I going to say? My ex is a jerk?”
“No, but you could get a restraining order.”
She shakes her head. “I spoke with someone, and it’s not enough.”
“Someone?”
“A friend who got one against her ex.”
“Will you talk with Lanie?”
She bites her lip, and I pull it loose with my thumb. “OK.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead. “Are you going to be OK? I need to get going.”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I pull her into a hug. She settles against me as her arms come up and grip my shirt. “You can stay here as long as you need.”
“Thank you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “Now, go rest. The game isn’t until later and Kylie will come to get you. And afterward, we should talk about the other day.”
She nods, her face turning pink. “Oh, and I made you more of my mom’s tea.” I hand her a cup, and she smiles at me.
“You’re almost as good of a nurse as she is.”
I laugh. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll take what I can get.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tabitha
“So, you like my brother?”
“Wait, what?” My eyes go wide at Kylie’s question. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes watching Kent and pondering his comment about talking. Does he regret kissing me? Do I regret kissing him? What were we thinking? What the hell am I doing here? How did my life suddenly get even more complicated in less than two weeks?
Kylie gives me a knowing look. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I bite my lip. “I mean…we just met. He’s really nice and…”
“Come on, you don’t have to worry about me telling him. I’m like Fort Knox.”
I glance over at Kent on the pitcher’s mound. Shit, I didn’t even know that’s what it was called until last week. He’s slowly changing my life, seeping into it like water filling in the crevices between rocks.
I turn back to Kylie who isn’t watching the game at all but instead is focused on me.
“Yeah, I guess I do like him.”
She grins. “Good because he really, really likes you.”
I laugh. Why does this feel like middle school?
“You think?”
She nods. “I can tell. I’ve been following that fucker around my whole life. He doesn’t know it, but I know him better than any of the others. Hell, I know him better than he knows himself.” She pauses, considering her next words. “I won’t admit it if you ever say anything, but…I look up to him, always have.”
I smile at her sincerity. “Your secret is safe with me. I just wasn’t looking for a relationship right now. I sort of had a bad one recently and was taking some time to self-reflect, I guess.”
“Oh. Well, Kent’s a really good guy, like seriously the best.”
“I can tell. He’s so…real. I didn’t expect that when I met him.”
Kylie shrugs. “Trust me, Di and Lanie beat him into submission. He never had a chance to be anything but a good guy.”
I giggle. “I hear sisters can be wicked.”
“True story. But big brothers can also be total pricks.”
“Now, that I can cheers to,” I say, raising my cup of beer.
Kylie laughs. “What’s your brother like?”
“Brix? He’s great. He’s laid-back and super smart. He’s a doctor and treats children in third world countries. He’s almost always traveling. I miss him. We are pretty tight, but we still talk quite a bit.”
“Does he like baseball?”
I shrug. “I think so. We don’t really talk sports.”
Suddenly the crowd cheers and our attention turns back to the game, where Kent has just struck out a player.
“Well, just don’t discount him because he’s a jock,” Kylie adds quietly once the crowd stops cheering. I look over at her.
“Why would I do that?”
Kylie shrugs. “Just guessing that he’s not your typical type.”
I don’t know Kylie that well yet, but I think her observation abilities are way under-credited.
“He’s not, but…there’s something about him. Honestly, even if we never date, I’d still want to be friends with him. He’s good peeps.”
Kylie smiles. “He is. The best.”
I laugh. “Come on, he has to have at least one fault.”
She shrugs. “He stinks to high heaven after he works out. But otherwise…nope, I got nothing. The guy’s not human, what can I say?”
I laugh harder. “Come on, even my brother has his faults.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, there was this one time he locked me in the basement and told me there were ghosts down there. And he did cut my pigtails off once on a bet from Di. And once, he glued down all my CDs so I couldn’t pick them up. But other than being a jerk big brother when we were kids, he’s pretty perfect.”
“He what? Are you serious?”
She nods. “Yep. It’s not as bad as the stuff Di and Lanie did to him though. Like one time they shaved his head in a reverse mohawk while he was sleeping because he ate their Easter candy. And one time they dyed all his shirts pink and purple because he made fun of their birthday outfits. Oh, and one time when they were babysitting us, they locked us out of the house because they wanted to have their boyfriends over and didn’t want us in the way. Well, mostly Di didn’t want us in the way, Lanie just went along with it.”
“Wow! Brix and I never were that bad.”
> Kylie giggles and shrugs. “We were a naughty little group of kids, what can I say?”
“The worst thing Brix ever did to me was make me do his chores for a month because he caught me sneaking candy after bedtime, and I didn’t want him to tell our grandparents.”
“Oh, we don’t really do the blackmail thing. We have a pact, but we do get each other back for things.”
“You have a pact?”
“Yep. The Moore clan pact. We always have each other’s backs, no matter what. We operate in a cone of silence outside the inner circle.”
“Wow. That’s, uh, intense.”
“I guess we all figure if you can’t trust your family, then who can you trust?”
Thoughts of my messed-up childhood swirl in my head. I can’t say that I’ve trusted anyone. Not like it’s a surprise or anything. When your parents don’t take care of you, you don’t exactly learn about trust in the way you should. I suppose I trust Brix, but from an early age, we were both sort of left to fend for ourselves. I mean, our grandparents did take us in and provided us with the basics and a safe home, but I just never connected with them. I shake myself out of my dark inner thoughts and insecurities.
I nod toward Kylie and go back to watching the game.
My phone buzzes with a text as I watch Kent pitch.
Lyla: Hey? You here?
Me: Here, as in the game?”
Lyla: (laughing emoji) yep
Me: Yes, I’m here with Kylie
Lyla: Cool beans, I’m coming down there
Me: OK
“Lyla is here,” I say to Kylie.
Kylie giggles. “Well, then, let the games begin!!” She holds out a hand to me, and when I grab hers, she pulls me up and darts out into the aisle. We run past various food places until we reach a glass door with a guy standing in front of it. She shoots Lyla a text, saying we are heading up there.
“Hey, Marvin!”
“Kyles! What’s up, baby girl?” the very large man says to her as he pulls her into a bear hug.
“We’re going up to see Lyla and Amery.”
He stands to the side and puts out an arm, gesturing us to enter. “Enjoy, ladies!”
We take an elevator up to the box level and Kylie drags me down toward a door. Opening it, I’m taken aback.
I’ve seen box seats on television, but I’ve never actually been in a box. And this one is really nice. There’s a bar, complete with a bartender. And an entire buffet of park food, like seriously anything you could want, hot dogs, wings, nachos, burgers, crab cakes, fries, funnel cake, ice cream, and more.
“Wow!”
Kylie looks over at me. “It’s the owner’s box,” she whispers as she motions to an older gentleman in full team gear sitting in the first row of the box seats. I look toward the other side and see Lyla sitting with Nate and Amery and an older lady.
“Hey!” she says, waving at us as she gets up and comes over to give us hugs.
“Kylie, why don’t you ever come up here. It’s so boring without you guys!” She walks over to the bar. “Drinks?”
“Hell yeah,” Kylie says as we order margaritas. She leans on the bar and looks over at Lyla. “It’s a Kent thing. He thinks it’s good luck for us to sit in our family seats.”
“Lyla, dear, can you get me a Sex on the Beach?” the older woman asks as she walks over and puts two hot dogs on a plate.
“Sure, Gran,” she answers. “Gran Mill, this is Tabby.”
The older woman stops and looks me up and down. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing. I can see why our Kent wants you here.” She leans in toward me and whispers, “And I hear he’s hung like a horse. Better saddle up on that one. He’s a keeper.” I nearly choke on my drink as she pats my arm and walks down to sit by Amery.
Kylie and Lyla burst into laughter as the bartender gives us a look. Lyla shrugs. “My grandmother has zero filters.”
“I can see that…” I manage after taking another sip.
“Come on and grab some food,” she says to me. “Derek Hathaway’s box always has the best food!”
Once I get food, I’m introduced to everyone. And then I sit down next to Nate.
“Prepare to watch the game in style,” he says to me with a wink. I grin. Kent’s friends are good peeps.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kent
“Fuck yeah!” Ward throws his fist in the air as we win the game.
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer to the baseball gods for today’s win. I never take a win for granted, ever. I decide then and there, that I have to keep this routine straight through playoffs. I look up at the stands and see Kylie and Tabby jumping up and down and waving at me. I smile and wave back.
Fuck. I just hope Tabby agrees to stay.
I rush through my interviews and post-game shit. I just want to get home. My bed and shower beckon me. And I’m anxious to talk with Tabby about staying. I don’t know where her head is with us, with me.
Kylie and Tabby are waiting for me when I exit from the locker room.
“Nice game, KJ,” Kylie says, giving me a fist bump. “You driving Tabby back, or am I?”
“I got her unless you ladies have plans for later,” I say with a raised eyebrow. My sisters are notorious for last-minute plans.
“Nope, not tonight. But we have a winery in the works,” she adds as she bumps hips with Tabby who grins at her.
“Let’s get home. I’m exhausted,” Tabby says to me.
I open the door for her. She gives me a look, and I give it right back.
“Deal with it, I’m a gentleman,” I say to her.
She rolls her eyes and sits. I shake my head as I walk around the car. This woman drives me crazy.
“So, how was your day?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Good, I guess. I’m feeling a lot better today. I rested a bit and worked on some images for the gala.”
“That’s great. I can’t wait to see your photos. Is the new camera working out?”
She nods. “It’s even better than the last one. I’ve had my eye on it for a few months but didn’t want to break down and buy it. I guess the universe has a weird way of forcing your hand.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes.
“What?” I ask her.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“What do you think about when you’re pitching?”
I laugh at her random question. “Well, a lot of things. My mind tends to go in a hundred directions. Where are the other team’s players, are they trying to steal a base? Who’s up next? Should I throw a fastball or a curveball?”
“That’s a lot going on in your head!”
“I suppose it is. Why’d you ask?”
She grins. “You just seem so…preoccupied when you are up there. I just wondered what was going on in that brain of yours.”
“What goes on in your head when you photograph people?”
She’s quiet as she ponders my question.
“The lighting, the angle, but really, I just look through the lens and try to capture the moment as I see it. I guess, everything else disappears when I photograph someone or something. It’s just me and that person or thing.”
“That’s some crazy focusing skills.”
She shrugs. “That’s just how it works for me.”
I silently wish I could quiet my head like that, focus as she does. I need that in my game right now.
I pull up to the house and look over at her. I’m nervous to ask her, but I go for it.
“How about you stay here?”
“Here?”
“Yeah, here. I mean until you figure things out,” I say.
She swallows. “I sort of thought I was.”
I grin like a fool. “Good. Because I decided tonight that we are keeping everything the same for playoffs. Call me superstitious, but I want to spend each night here, not at my apartment, and I want you here too and at my games, of course.”
She giggles. “Should I gr
ow a beard too?”
“You can stop shaving in solidarity if you like,” I laugh.
Her face twists into a look of disgust. “Sorry, but that’s where I draw the line. You have like almost three more weeks! Eww! No way am I braiding armpit hair for the team. I have my fan limits.”
My chest shakes as I try to contain my laughter. “What about other hair?” I ask as I waggle my eyebrows.
“Seriously? Don’t be such a boy,” she huffs as she opens the car door.
I round the car and cage her against it.
“I thought you liked boys,” I say with a smirk.
She gives me a look, and I don’t care that it’s a “you’re such an asshat” look, it makes all my blood rush straight to my dick.
I spin a loose lock of her red hair around my index finger. “I’ve been wondering something,” I say.
Her face goes so red that I think she might turn into a tomato. “Don’t say it.”
“But I’m a ‘boy’ which means I have to say it.”
“No, no you don’t.”
I lean into her and bring my lips dangerously close to her earlobe. “I’ve been meaning to ask if the carpet matches the curtains. Care to enlighten me, kitten?”
I grin as I see her ears turn as red as her cheeks and neck.
“You’re such a…” She trails off as I move my face so that our lips are millimeters apart and our foreheads are touching. She radiates heat, and she smells like the apple orchard behind my house.
“I’m such a what?” I tease her.
“A boy,” she repeats.
I can’t help but press my erection against her. “Do I feel like a boy, kitten?”
Her skin is now mottled in pinks and reds and her lips part and close and part and close in her flustered state of trying to answer me.
“Cat got your tongue, Tabby?”
“I…” She trails off as I sweep my tongue over her lips.
I’m not sure what occurs first but in a matter of seconds, she’s wrapping her legs around my hips and I’m grabbing her supple ass and pressing her against me. She grinds unashamedly as our tongues war with each other for control. I lean in and devour her, exploring every crevice of her sweet mouth. She moans into mine as I thrust my cock against her heated center. I want more, so much more.