Bottom Of The Ninth: Bad Boys Redemption: Book Three

by Readnour, Kimberly

  “Get going, you have a four-hour drive. As he heads toward the door, I say, “Hey, Jax.”

  He turns to look at me.

  “Congratulations.”

  “She hasn’t accepted the ring yet.”

  “She will.”

  “As long as I didn’t fuck things up.”

  “You didn’t. Now go to her.”

  His eyebrows furrow as he eyes me. “You okay?”

  I pick the not-so-pretty presents up and glance back at the tree. The handcuffs serving as a reminder of what’s going to be waiting for me.

  “Never better.”

  “Good. I’m out of here. Have a good Christmas.”

  “Plan to.” I smile down at my phone. Just wait, Mia. I’ll make you like Christmas again.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  AJ

  Current Day

  The jitters caused by the jiggling doorknob is new. I haven’t been this anxious for a long time. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Well, not what I did, but hanging out like a creeper, hiding in the shadows.

  The soft beam of fading daylight streams through the window and creates a perfect spotlight as Mia stumbles into her apartment. Hand still on the handle, she pauses and scans the room before shutting the door. I duck inside the bathroom, the only place to hide that gives me the perfect side profile view. She takes a few cautious steps and stumbles over nothing. Surely, she’s not drunk. The thought leaves as quickly as it comes when I take in her pale face and wide eyes. Shit, she’s scared.

  Ditching my surprise efforts, I open my mouth to let her know my presence, but her sudden gasp silences me. I follow her gaze to the fully decorated Christmas tree and smile. I hold off outing myself.

  “I can’t believe this,” she murmurs. Her purse slides off her shoulder onto the hardwood floor, followed by her coat. She covers her mouth, and, with the slightest shake of her head, she steps toward the tree decked out in shiny glass-blown ornaments. A small smile forms on her lips as she runs a finger along the glass bulb with the Dodgers team logo scrolled across.

  “I hope you can split your allegiance, at least,” I say, emerging from the shadows.

  She shrieks and clutches her chest as she whirls around. Her response causes me to chuckle. So fucking cute.

  “I need to work on your defensive skills.”

  “H-how’d you get in here?”

  My lips press together suppressing a grin. “I’ll never rat on my fellow brother-in-arms.”

  She raises her chin as comprehension settles in her features. “Let me guess, Drake?”

  “He may have assisted.” I shrug. So much for honoring my brother. Eh, I never liked him anyway.

  “That explains his strange behavior this afternoon.” She turns back to the tree and tries to blink away the wetness pooling in her eyes. “I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  “You deserve so much more.” I step beside her and admire my handiwork. Not knowing exactly the style of ornaments she had, I bought an assortment.

  She reaches out to the Dodgers ornament again and rubs her thumb across the logo. “This is my favorite.”

  “I expect to see this displayed front and center from here on out.” That earns me the laugh I was after. She turns those tear-filled eyes toward me, and my heart practically leaps. It’s the lightest its felt since leaving her two weeks ago. I blame the rush of adrenaline tingling through my veins for what I say next. “I’m serious. I expect you to display it proudly.”

  “Are you going to be the one to police it?”

  “I want to be.” I bridge the gap between us and weave my fingers through her hair. I stare straight into her eyes because I want her to understand my meaning. “Every. Single. Year.”

  Her head shakes back and forth, but her eyes scream a different tune. She wants this. Wants us. If she could just push through her reluctance, she’ll see how good we could be together.

  “Cupcake, I’m not giving up on you that easily. Or us.”

  “What do you mean?” Her voice wavers, but her hands grab my waist, looping her fingers through my belt loop.

  “If you don’t want a long-distance relationship, then move. Come to L.A. with me. You can work on finishing your degree or open a studio in L.A. Whatever you want. I don’t care, as long as we’re together.” I run my hands along her soft curves and pray she’ll take a chance on us.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Damn straight. We belong with each other.”

  “I don’t know, AJ.”

  The “yes” is at the end of her tongue. I can sense it, but I don’t want to push her. I lean down and kiss the top of her forehead.

  “Listen, I know this is quick, and it’s not like I’m proposing marriage.” Yet, I think. “But we’ll get to know each other better. We’ll figure it out.”

  “And if it doesn’t work out?” she scoffs.

  “You don’t have to worry about that, babe.” Because I love you. “When I commit to something, I give it my all. That’s a guarantee.”

  She unwraps herself from me, and I sense more than hesitation. It’s almost like she’s shouldering some kind of burden or maybe guilt. I follow her to the couch not exactly sure what the best approach is for getting her to trust me enough to open up. We sit in silence for a few moments until she notices the wrapped presents.

  “You got me more presents?”

  “Yeah. What good is a Christmas tree if there aren’t any gifts underneath?”

  “The ornaments were enough, AJ. They’re not cheap.”

  “I think you’re worth it.” I have to refrain from touching her when those bright blue eyes connect with mine. She stares at me with more than adoration. There’s hunger. A need. Maybe it’s just me, but this girl makes me feel like I’m the best thing to have entered her life. The role is reserved for you, sweetie.

  I force myself off the couch, away from her, and grab the presents. When I hand over the smaller gifts, the shimmer in her eyes as she examines the wrapping paper makes me want to fist pump the air—Goddamn, if Mom wasn’t right.

  “You wrapped these yourself?”

  This gratifying sensation her soft voice causes warms my chest, and pleasing Mia becomes my number one priority. She’s so worth it. “Yeah, I’m, uh, not the best.”

  “They’re perfect.” Her soft voice wraps around me untangling every tensed nerve. She has no idea what she does to me, but I’ll spend every day, from here on out, making sure she knows.

  “Go ahead and unwrap them. But start with this one first.” I shove the large rectangle box toward her.

  “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.” She runs her fingers along the edge of the seam and carefully peels back the tape. “Really, the ornaments are more than enough. You didn’t have to—”

  Her hands still when the end of the box comes into view, revealing a small photo of the contents inside. She turns her now tear-filled eyes to me and gives me the biggest smile. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “You need supplies when you paint the ocean.”

  Her whimper about does me in. She rips off the rest of the paper and runs her hand over the box as she takes in the larger photo. I’ve seen Mia in many beautiful poses, but the way she’s eyeing my gift to her… Damn, I’d buy her the whole fucking store to recreate this look.

  “I hope that’s the kind of easel you like. I saved the receipt in case you need to exchange it.”

  “It’s perfect. It’s… Thank you.” She smiles so big and so genuine that I think she’s about to agree to move with me, but then a twinge of sadness mars her face.

  “What’s wrong, babe?”

  “Nothing, I just…”

  I move the remaining gifts—more art supplies—out of the way and grab her hand as I sit beside her. “Something keeps holding you back. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to ruin this moment. It’s so nice of you to do this for me.”

  “Hey, look at me.” Her tear-
filled eyes sweep to mine, and the clenching in my gut serves as a warning. Whatever gnaws at her needs to come out, or she’ll never agree to move with me. “Forget about everything between us, and just tell me what’s been bothering you.”

  “Remember when I told you about my dad? How he missed a lot of our events?”

  I grind my jaw to keep from speaking, nodding instead.

  “Ever since my dad died, I made a pact with myself to not get serious with anyone who’s job kept them away. I didn’t want my kids to suffer through that.”

  The warning level raises a notch. My job is most definitely not the nine-to-five variety.

  “I told you he was coming to watch me the night he died.”

  I nod, not wanting to interrupt.

  “What I failed to tell you was my part in his death.” Her face crumbles, and a sob wracks through her body.

  “Babe, come here.” I wrap my arms around her, her small frame molding against my mine. She fits me perfectly. “There’s no way you’re to blame.”

  She proceeds to tell me the role she thinks she played. I understand her grief, the anger, all too well. But she’s no more to blame than I was with my dad.

  “Believe me, I understand why you’re shouldering this guilt. I carried around my own burdens with my father for years. But your dad was coming home anyway. He could’ve been traveling at normal speed, you don’t know.” I hope to God she doesn’t whip out a police report stating otherwise.

  She remains quiet for a few beats. “I sometimes think if he hadn’t have died, Mom would still be alive.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The reason for the fire was faulty wiring. If Dad had been around, he would’ve realized that, and she’d still be with me.”

  “Hey.” I lean back so she’ll see my face. “You are not to blame for that.”

  Her eyes squeeze shut as new tears fall. I remember the reversed faucets back at the cabin. If her dad couldn’t plumb the shower correctly, I doubt he was a stellar electrician.

  “Look at me.” I wait until she can see me again. “How long had your parents lived in that house before your dad died?”

  “I always lived there. So, seventeen years at least.”

  “If your dad hadn’t noticed the wiring in seventeen years, what makes you think he would’ve noticed within the next two?”

  She bites her lip. “I don’t know. I just always thought he would’ve.”

  “I think you want to blame yourself because of the hurt he made you feel before his death.” When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. “You didn’t really hate your father. Not fully. You were hurt and, at that moment, felt like you hated him. What you really hated was the fact he let you down once again.”

  She sniffs and is trying to be so strong. I want to pull her next to me again, to protect her, but she really needs to hear this if she’s going to move past this. And God, I want her to move forward.

  “Everything you feel is normal, babe.”

  “I-I-I don’t know.”

  “Hey, what was in the trunk of your car at school?”

  “Painting supplies.”

  Her lips quirk, and I nudge her leg with my hand. “Besides that.”

  “My memories”—she lets out a defeated sigh—“of my dad.”

  “If you had hated him, you wouldn’t have trucked that memorabilia clear across the country.” I try again when all she does is nod. “I saw the way you admired the drawing in the library. That adoration doesn’t shine through with people you hate.”

  “I miss my parents so much. It isn’t fair.”

  I don’t refrain this time and bring her body back against mine. We remain this way for a while. I don’t expect her guilt to dissipate, but maybe the overdue healing process can begin.

  “I know you want a partner who can be around, and I don’t fit that bill, but I won’t be playing forever. I have about five or six years left in me, then I’m all yours. You’ll probably get sick of seeing me.”

  Her laugh comes out in a half choke, half garble. I raise her chin toward me and the tension thaws on her face.

  “I have something to show you.” I lead her to the tree. “Wait right here.”

  She tilts her head as she watches me. She never noticed the globe party lights I’ve strung across the room. How could she when we were immersed in such a deep conversation? But I’m excited about her reaction. I plug the tree in first and then move to the other outlet. The warm lighting flickers overhead like twinkling stars. I think maybe I went overboard until her voice comes out raspy.

  “Oh, AJ. It’s beautiful.”

  No, beautiful is her softened facial features in the reflection of light highlights. But I have one more surprise in store. I grab hold of her hand and guide us to her kitchen.

  “It’s not official until we kiss in this spot.” I point up, and a huge grin crosses her face. Her laugh awakens every sleeping member as fresh energy fills me. She’s mine. I know it.

  “I thought you were against this parasitic greenery?”

  “It’s only fitting.” I shrug. “You’ve burrowed yourself into my soul.”

  Her grin stretches wider. Who needs twinkle lights with this infectious smile?

  Then she kisses me right underneath the mistletoe, and there isn’t anything revolting about it. In fact, her lips on mine are rather nice. I tug her body until she’s flushed against me.

  She rears her head slightly back. “It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you have to be with your family?”

  “I’m right where I want to be.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely.” I lean in and trail my lips down her neck. “Move”—I plant a kiss below her ear—“with”—I kiss her jaw—“me.” My mouth sweeps to her lips, and she returns the kiss with an unabated passion. It’s slow and sultry but holds so much promise.

  “Is that a yes?” I hold my breath and wait for the answer.

  “How would we do this? Where would we live?”

  “Cupcake, we’ll figure it all out.” And there is no doubt in my mind we will. There will be bumps along the way. But I love this girl. I think part of me always had, and I was just too stupid to realize. But now we have another chance. “And do you know why?”

  She bites her lips and shakes her head no.

  “Because I love you.”

  “Really?” she asks in a tiny voice, eyes glossing over, but these tears aren’t from sadness.

  I nod, and then she says the words I never knew I longed to hear. “I love you, too.”

  “Then it’s a yes?” I ask again. This answer is too important to make assumptions.

  “Hell, yes.”

  That moment, the song Cara always shouts from her lungs, “Walking on Sunshine,” flits through my mind. Don’t ask me why, but I get the meaning now. Staring down at the most beautiful girl in the world after she told me she loves me and will move in with me fills me with fucking sunshine. I reach down to claim another kiss, but she places a hand against my chest to block me.

  “You know,” she says, “All these years, I never knew why you called me Cupcake?”

  “Mmm, that’s because they remind me of you, short and sweet.” I flash her my cocky smile. “But I’ve added another reason.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “They have a surprising layer to them.” I draw her next to me. “And I can’t get my fill of the delicious center.”

  “Oh my God, that’s awful.”

  “Not from what I’ve tasted.”

  Her grin buoys my spirits. I finally have this girl right where I want her. As she wraps her arms back around and peers up with those sapphire-rich eyes, I know it’s the bottom of the ninth, and I just hit a home run.

  “Kiss me, you idiot.”

  That I can do.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  AJ

  Current Day

  “This totally blows.” Jax pulls the tape dispenser across the flaps of the last box.

  �
�It does.” I glance at my buddy, and a twinge of guilt punches my stomach. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going to miss the fuck out of my friends, especially Jax. We’ve been through a lot together and done some remarkable things, but I can’t deny the shred of excitement. There’s a piece of me that can’t wait to start a new life with Mia. In two days, we’ll be in sunny California. Away from the cold Philadelphia winters and away from what we call life.

  As if the simple thought of her draws me to her, I look up and see the woman who cracked the code to my heart is clearing the kitchen table. Her friend, Nala, stands by helping. Although, I suspect she’s not much help with Drake sniffing around like a dog in heat. You’d think the bastard would be more considerate to Cara. I turn back to my friend.

  “I’m going to miss you all.”

  “It’s not going to be the same.” Jocelyn sidles next to Jax and rests her left hand on his biceps, her new diamond shimmering in the late afternoon sun. She blinks repetitiously as if she’s staving off tears. “The pizzas will be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  “There goes the peace and quiet.” Zach laughs as he enters through the front door and stacks a box near the others. Lacey volunteered to keep the kids busy while we finished packing my belongings. She’s bringing them over with the pizzas. “If the kids get too rambunctious, we could move the party to our house.”

  “Nah, they’ll be fine. You’re not going to find any better kids.” My words put a smile on Jocelyn’s face, but I’m not bullshitting. I turn to Zach and point to the boxes. “Is that the last of them, or are there more?”

  “Just one more box, but I’ll go get it. These last two were heavier than fuck. What the hell is in there? Gold bars?”

  I glance at the boxes marked treasure, and the chuckle slides out before I stop it. “Those would be cookbooks.”

  We tackled Mia’s pad yesterday which took no time at all. The movers will be here first thing in the morning to make the trek to Los Angeles. The decision to buy new furniture once we moved came easy since neither one of us had anything of value. All we had to do is add her boxes with mine, but it meant some poor schmuck had to do the heavy brunt part—insert Zach.