Stealing Home

by R. C. Martin

  She turned toward him, unafraid to offer her undivided attention, hungry for another minute with him. “Yes?”

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  Her lips parted open as her mind tried to find some sort of response. She thought of nothing, her gaze focused on his mouth—a mouth she desired. Her silence didn’t deter him, and his lips were closed around hers without further prompting. His facial hair tickled the soft skin around her mouth, and she relished the sensation.

  Her eyes fell closed.

  Leslie parted his lips to caress hers once more, and then she felt his hands as he slid them around the back of her neck. A small whimper caught in her throat when she felt the reason behind his touch. He deepened their kiss, supporting her head as he leaned in closer and kissed her harder. She leaned into him in return, until her palms were pressed against his solid abdomen. When he tasted her with the tip of his tongue, she was convinced she’d never known a kiss more romantic.

  Too soon, he severed their mouths. Yet, as Ryann peeled her eyes open, she realized he hadn’t moved to step away from her. Neither did he speak as he admired her. His beautiful eyes simply danced around her face as one of his thumbs traced light circles against the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

  When she couldn’t stand the silence a second longer, Ryann whispered, “What’s it called—a pitcher’s perfect game? What do they call that?”

  “A no-hitter.”

  “This,” she started to say, leaning into him even further. “This whole night, it was that.”

  He smiled. Only, this smile was her favorite of their entire evening—because she felt it. As his lips curled at the corners, his breath mingled with hers. His delicate touch and the promise of another kiss beckoned her own smile, until she felt the tip of his tongue trace the entrance of her mouth. Then there were no more smiles. There were no more words. Instead, they fell into a paradox, where time stood still and sped forward. All the while, they held onto one another, lip-locked and lost.

  It was midnight when Ryann shut herself inside—the taste of Leslie’s kiss one she hoped to have again.

  LM: It’s going to be impossible seeing you without wanting to kiss you. Hope you know that.

  RYANN CHUCKLED AS she read Leslie’s latest text. They’d been exchanging messages in their spare moments since their date. Now, as Ryann sat in the driver’s seat of her vehicle, waiting for Cohan to be let out of school, she wondered if it was possible for her to be more excited for baseball practice than her son.

  RC: You only have yourself to blame. You kissed me, remember?

  LM: You kissed me right back, darlin.

  RC: I’d do it again, too.

  LM: About our next date…

  The sound of an engine roaring to life pulled Ryann away from her phone. She dropped it into the cup holder of her center console as she realized it was time she did the same. The smile Leslie had brought to her face lingered as she inched her way up in the pick-up line. He’d been very clear about his intentions of taking her out on a second date. The only reason they hadn’t agreed on a day and time was because of Ryann.

  It wasn’t that she had it in her mind that they needed to take things particularly slow. She wanted to see him again soon—and not merely from across the field. However, they had agreed not to let on to their interest in one another around Cohan. That said, she needed to find a night her parents wouldn’t mind keeping her little one for a few hours. She was sure it wouldn’t be a problem, she simply hadn’t yet had the chance to broach the topic with either of them.

  Much to her surprise, her mother had waited up for her on Saturday night. When Ryann walked into the house and spotted the light on in the kitchen, she was taken aback by how relieved she felt to see Peggy sitting at the kitchen table. She had been passing the time with a cup of her favorite herbal tea and a new harlequin romance she had picked up the last time she went to the grocery store. As soon as Ryann found her way into a chair, her mother demanded to know everything, and Ryann gushed without hesitation.

  As soon as we’re home from practice, I’ll talk to mom. She’ll be thrilled, I’m sure.

  Ryann saw Cohan as he waited for her to pull up to the designated loading zone. His excitement to get going was evident as he bounced on the tips of his toes. Ryann admitted she knew how he felt. When Cohan finally climbed into the backseat, their combined anticipation was almost palpable.

  “Hi, mommy. Did you have a good day? I did. And it’s about to get better!”

  Smiling back at her heart, Ryann watched as he buckled his seatbelt. “I did have a pretty good day,” she replied. “Thanks for asking, buddy. I want to hear all about yours on the way home. Tell me the best thing you learned today.”

  Their short drive was as ordinary as any other, but Ryann relished the animated way in which Cohan explained his day and all the small things he felt important enough to mention. When they arrived at their destination, they each headed upstairs to change their clothes. Standing in front of her closet, Ryann had to talk herself out of the cute summer dress she had an itch to wear.

  In spite of the undeniable thrill that made her insides tingle at the thought of the burgeoning, secret relationship between her and Coach Moore, she wanted to play it cool. For reasons that felt blatantly obvious, she recognized that a dress might have been a bit much. So, instead of the flirty outfit she’d hoped to wear for him another time, she opted for something far more casual. She slid into a pair of charcoal grey, workout leggings and a long, pale pink, halter-top tank that draped loosely around her torso and fitted snuggly around her hips. She then pulled her hair from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her thick mane to add some life to it.

  “Mommy, can I have a snack?” called Cohan.

  Ryann blew out a breath and shook her head at herself, relieved for the excuse to stop fussing over her appearance. As she reached into her closet for her tennis shoes, she replied, “Yeah, baby. I’m coming now.”

  Ten minutes later, they were loaded into the SUV and headed for the ballfield. When they arrived, Ryann was pleasantly surprised to see Greta with Oliver instead of Steven. As their boys hurried to join their teammates, the two women trailed behind them.

  “I’m so relieved you’re here. Steven told me you would be, but you never know with people’s schedules these days,” said Greta, her tone rich with her genuine sentiment.

  “Yeah, I got lucky. My job doesn’t offer me many concessions, but the afternoons and Saturdays are always guaranteed. It was a must for me. Being Cohan’s mom is something no one else gets to do, and little league was a commitment I’d made for both of us.”

  “You’re doing great, you know? I don’t know how single mothers do it. There’s a strength inside of you that’s so beautiful.” Laughing to herself, Greta shook her head and muttered, “Lord, have mercy, don’t let me go on and on or I’ll get to crying. My hormones are all over the place these days.” She paused and ran a hand over her belly. “Steven and I are pregnant. Did he tell you?”

  “Oh, my goodness—no. That’s amazing, Greta. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It’s been a long time coming. We feel so blessed, and Oli is just over the moon.”

  As Ryann and Greta sat in Ryann’s usual spot, her eyes found Cohan. She’d always thought she’d have more children. It had been something she and Brady had talked about. When the time was right, she had her mind made up that she could do it all and every single one of her dreams could become a reality. Now, the hope of another child was buried deep down in her heart, and she was too smart to dig it up. At least not for a while.

  Greta changed the subject, but there was a piece of Ryann’s conscience that lagged behind when her gaze found Leslie. In truth, she loved the way he was capable of making her feel even from so far away. She wondered what would become of them. She was well aware they’d only been on one date, and whatever they had was barely more than the hint of a beginning; but when she remembered the way he’d looked at h
er as he held her in his arms on her parents’ front porch—the hope of more felt within her reach. All she had to do was grab hold of it and hang on with all her might.

  Practice was over before Ryann was ready. She’d enjoyed watching Cohan and chatting with Greta whilst stealing glances with the dark haired, blue-eyed man who made her belly warm with a longing she hadn’t felt in years. Though, reluctant as she was to leave without much more than a hello from the man she was secretly seeing, she was ready to head home to have a chat with her mother.

  After Ryann and Greta said goodbye, she and Cohan headed toward their vehicle. Ryann had just opened up the door to the backseat when she was startled by the call of her name. Except, it wasn’t the sound that caught her by surprise; rather, it was the voice wrapped around the syllables. When she turned and saw Connie strutting her way, her senses warned her to be on her guard.

  “Buckle up, handsome,” Ryann told Cohan distractedly. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  She shut the door behind her son and spun around to face Connie just as the woman came to a stop a few feet away. When Connie eyed her up and down, Ryann didn’t stop herself from doing the same. She then had to will herself to deny the feeling of inferiority sparked by the woman who stood before her. Like always, she was carefully put together in her designer clothes, her overpriced handbag hanging purposefully in the crook of her arm.

  The smile that stretched across Connie’s face was practiced and obviously disingenuous, despite her efforts. Ryann could only hope whatever she had to say she’d say it quickly.

  “Connie? Did you need something?”

  “One of the girls said she saw you out with Leslie Saturday night.”

  Ryann’s back straightened, as if her guard had reinforced her spine like a steel rod. A chill washed over her at the thought of being a topic of conversation between Connie and her girls. Only, before she could think of the words to stop Connie from saying anything more, she’d started up again.

  “Thought you’d might like to know to be careful with that one. You know—a friendly warning, woman to woman.”

  “I—I don’t know what you mean,” Ryann muttered.

  “Oh, come now,” Connie crooned with a mischievous smile. “You must know you’re not the first baseball mom he’s messed around with. I know from personal experience he’s a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Fine as hell, with the heart of a saint—but he’s a little gun shy when it comes to commitment. Just thought you should be aware.”

  Ryann’s heart sank as her stomach twisted and turned in sickening disappointment. For a second, she stood crestfallen as she watched Connie walk away. It didn’t make sense. While Ryann wouldn’t claim to know Leslie well, she thought she knew him well enough to judge his character. Nothing Connie said added up, and yet Ryann couldn’t shake off the emotions her warning had conjured. When she managed to find her way into the driver’s seat, Ryann started the engine of her Crossover and scowled out the windshield.

  All the way home, she could barely concentrate her thoughts enough to respond to Cohan as he spoke to her. She was too lost in her own head. She didn’t want to believe Connie. She wanted to hold on to her own memories of Leslie and who she thought he was. Except, she couldn’t think of a reason Connie would lie. The longer she thought about it, the harder it was for her to find comfort in the hope Leslie had awakened in her.

  History had proved to Ryann that she couldn’t always see through the lies of men. Yet, Connie—in spite of her faults—hadn’t called Ryann out in front of her crowd. By the time she arrived at home, Ryann had reasoned that whatever reputation Connie had with the other women was one she wouldn’t tarnish with the truth of rejection. If what she said was true, she wouldn’t admit it to anyone who had her up on some pedestal. Furthermore, Connie knew Ryann wasn’t a part of any peanut gallery, and whatever truths she shared with her wouldn’t go anywhere.

  What hurt Ryann most of all was the reality that Connie was married. If there was even a modicum of truth embedded in her warning, regardless of the state of the woman’s marriage, Leslie had contributed to Connie’s adultery. The whole idea disgusted her. And when she thought of Leslie’s kiss, the memory of what it felt like to be held by him was tarnished.

  “Mommy?”

  Ryann sucked in a deep breath and blinked. She’d been so engrossed in her internal debate, she hadn’t realized she was still sitting in the driver’s seat, her vehicle parked in front of the house.

  “Mommy, are you sad?”

  “Oh. No, baby,” she lied as she turned to look back at her son. He had unbuckled his seatbelt and stood just behind her seat. A worried look marred his gorgeous brown eyes, and Ryann felt compelled to chase the expression away. “I’m okay, Cohan. I’ll be okay,” she assured him. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. When she pulled away, he was quick to reciprocate. His soft lips and sweet affection made her smile, and she clung to the love of her child as she told him, “Let’s get inside and get you cleaned up for dinner, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  Cohan was quick to scramble out of the vehicle, and Ryann wasn’t far behind him. She grabbed her purse from off the passenger seat and then reached for her phone, which she’d neglected to retrieve since earlier that afternoon. She was stepping out from behind the wheel when the phone alerted her to an incoming message. She sensed, without even having to look, it was from Leslie. A small part of her wanted to open the text and return to the place they had been not even two hours before—but she couldn’t go back there. Not now. She needed time. She needed space. She needed to think and to process what Connie had said.

  As she made her way up the driveway, she stowed away the device into her purse. Her mind was decided. For the rest of the evening, she didn’t wish to indulge the woman in her. Instead, she wanted only to be a mother to her sweet boy who hated to see her sad.

  RYANN TRIED NOT to let her thoughts wander as she concentrated on the cupcakes in front of her. She’d dreamed of Leslie the night before. It wasn’t until she woke up that she realized reality was more akin to a nightmare than a dream. She couldn’t get Connie’s warning out of her mind. Regardless of what her intentions might have been in revealing her truth, it disturbed Ryann knowing Leslie could ever be interested in a woman like that. Try as she might, the scars of her past made it hard for her to give Leslie the benefit of her doubt.

  There was a part of Ryann entirely aware that she wasn’t being fair. Except, she couldn’t give that part of her the headspace to change her mind about the distance she felt she needed to place between herself and Leslie. The fact of the matter was, she’d let her guard down with him. He made her feel safe, and the thought that she’d trusted him too easily caused her to doubt her own judgement. Rather than dwell on the muddled mess of her confused intuition, she spent her morning behind the baker’s counter fulfilling one order after another.

  She tried to keep her mind set on the sugary treats that consumed her busy shift. Unfortunately, reality was on a roll and keen to remind her the treats which kept her mind occupied only ever mocked her dreams. It wasn’t her best day.

  “Excuse me, does Ryann Clynch work here?”

  Ryann froze at the sound of his voice. The tone of it kick-started her heart, and it galloped wildly in her chest. His mere presence caught her off guard so much, she could hardly remember she needed air to breathe. By the time she had managed to get a grip around her emotions and will her body to look up from her abandoned task, she found both Katrina and Leslie staring at her.

  The sight of him was like a rude awakening. He looked entirely too good to be true. He wore a pair of fitted blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places, and an old, red, Cardinals baseball hat. After she’d taken him in, he stepped forward in her direction. Ryann could see the distress in his gaze. She couldn’t quite identify or define it, but she knew she’d never seen it before.

  “What—what are you doing here?”

  “I need to tal
k to you. Do you have a minute?”

  Ryann hesitated. The night before, Leslie had called her and she’d ignored it. Her parents had retired for the evening, Cohan was asleep, and she had been packing his lunch when the ringing of her phone interrupted her. She knew she couldn’t simply ghost Leslie. She was too old to play games, and too dignified to pretend nothing had happened between them. However, she didn’t have the words to say to him at the time. Now, she still didn’t. Even more, her heart beckoned her to admit she wasn’t quite sure what was real and what was a lie.

  “Ryann, I’ve been to six different grocery stores looking for you. Ten minutes. Please,” Leslie pleaded.

  Confused by his adamant efforts to find her, she gave in to her curiosity. Forcing her body into submission, set aside the bag full of frosting she held in her hands. After she removed her apron, she tucked it underneath her workstation and made her way toward him.

  “It’s not time for your break,” muttered Katrina snidely.

  It wasn’t until she spoke that Ryann became wholly aware of her current situation. She looked down at herself and cringed at the awful green color of her button-up. Ryann was convinced she probably looked ridiculous with her black store cap on, and her hair pulled back into a careless messy bun at the hat’s opening. For a split second, she thought of Cheryl-Ann next to Brady in her printed romper, and Connie in her fifty-dollar t-shirt. She was nothing like them—and as ugly as she found her work attire, as much as it signified her dashed dreams—she’d never felt more confident in who she was and what she stood for. While she wasn’t entirely sure of what Leslie had come to say, she refused to be humiliated. Not again. Not by anyone.

  She pulled in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, suddenly filled with the desire to just get the whole thing over with. Turning to address Katrina, she replied, “I can’t today, okay? I just can’t. I’m taking my break—now. The world won’t end. I promise.”