Stealing Home

chapter 27



MARK STARED ACROSS the table piled high with the remains of the Rush’s victory feast of ribs at Casey’s Smokehouse in Houston, Texas. The ancient jukebox kicked on in the corner of the small, dim bar. Good ol’ country blues filled the place as George Strait sang about a woman looking so good in love. A red and gold Miller sign flickered on the wall behind the bar.

“You’re a real sick individual, Drake, you know that? How many poor cows had to die tonight to feed your sorry ass?” he said to the first baseman next to him.

The veteran raised his arms and looped his fingers together behind his head, grinned. “I’m a growing boy. Gotta get my protein.”

Peter leaned down the table and threw a peanut shell. It landed right in his beer glass. Mark raked his gaze over the pitcher and scowled. “All right, a*shole. Now you gotta buy me another beer.”

“Listen to you, Wall, all pissy like a woman. You’ve been pitiful since you screwed up last week with my fantasy woman. Why don’t you call her and get her back?” Peter said, and signaled to a waitress in a red T-shirt.

Mark frowned down at the table and started ripping a paper napkin to pieces. He was pretending it was Kowalskin’s head. “I don’t want to talk about it. And stop saying that kind of stuff about her, it’s pissing me off. She’s my woman.”

“Really?” Peter challenged. “Seems to me, if I recall right, that she ain’t your woman anymore.”

If he had any energy he’d get up and kick Pete’s ass for that. Hell, he’d deserve it for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Watch what you say to me, Peter. I’m not feeling the friendliest lately.” That was the understatement of the century. He was downright bitchy, to steal a phrase from Leslie.

JP added a rib to the growing pile of dead animal bones. “I think you need to win her back, Wall. She was great.”

Drake nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she’s the stuff, all right. If you don’t hurry, that woman’s gonna get snatched up by some poser and you’ll be shit out of luck.”

What the hell was this? Dr. Phil night? He didn’t have to listen to this crap. “Screw you guys. I’m going to play some pool. And don’t anybody follow me.”

As Mark pushed through the wooden tables in the small bar, he swore. He didn’t need his teammates telling him he should get her back. Hell, no. He already knew that. From the moment she’d left that day with Leslie he’d known it.

But he didn’t know how to fix it.

Because the truth was, she’d hurt him. He still felt raw inside from it. That’s partly why he hadn’t called her back. And because when he did call her back he’d have to explain to her why her words had ripped him open so bad. That her words were an echo from Dina long ago. Blaming him. Accusing him. Saying she didn’t love him.

But Drake had been right. Lorelei was a treasure, and if he didn’t get his act together someone else was going to come along and steal her. And then he’d have to kill the bastard. Because living without her for a lifetime was impossible.

He knew because he’d been living the past week without her and he missed her so frigging bad it was eating a hole through him.

Mark reached the lone pool table in the far corner and started to rack the balls. Only a single flickering light with a cheap plastic Budweiser lampshade hung over the table. When he stepped the few feet to the wall to grab a stick he was almost surrounded by the dark.

The jukebox shuffled songs, colored lights flashing across its face, and Travis Tritt started singing about smelling T-R-O-U-B-L-E. He grabbed the green chalk and rubbed it over the tip of his cue, blew the excess off, and bent down to the table. His gaze traveled down the length of the pool stick to the white cue ball, across the green felt, over the colored balls, and continued right up to a fantastic pair of breasts pressed together in a plunging red V-neck tank top.

Mark didn’t even have to see the face that belonged to those breasts. He knew it was her. And emotions tore through him with violent force.

Lorelei.

He let his gaze slide up her throat, over her amazing mouth curled in a soft smile, to her beautiful, exotic green eyes. She’d piled her mass of dark hair on top of her head and tied it off with a blue bandana.

Jesus.

The potency of her slammed into his solar plexus and he couldn’t breathe. Slowly he straightened and slid his gaze down the rest of her. Over her delicious curves, her short white denim skirt, and her long legs.

Then he saw them and it almost dropped him to his knees. Lorelei was wearing her cowboy boots.

Suddenly he didn’t care that she’d hurt him, that she’d shredded him. None of that mattered, not one damn little bit. He needed her, more than he needed anything. And Mark wanted to spill out the truth about himself and that horrible day with Dina, put it all on the table. So that he could let it go and move on with his life. Move on with Lorelei.

Because his life was nothing but shit without her and when she’d left him that day he’d stopped breathing. He needed to breathe again.

Lorelei was his woman. She was his everything. And he needed to find the balls to make things right. He would, too—if she loved him.

“I thought I’d stop by for a little chat, being as there appears to be something wrong with your phone, Mark.” She straightened and his gaze dropped to the silky skin of her legs. God, he’d missed that skin. Missed touching it, kissing it. Missed the way it smelled and warmed with desire for him.

But more than that, he missed her. He missed the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, and how her nose wrinkled up like a pug’s when she sneezed. He even missed the way she snored when she was pressed up against him sound asleep.

He swallowed hard as his insides started a wicked tug-of-war of emotions. “It’s a long way to come for a chat, Lorelei. So I’ll make it worth your while. I’ve got something that needs to be said and I’m going to ask you to not talk until I’m done.”

Lorelei tilted her head and eyed him, the ends of her bandana fluttering with the movement. “All right. And when you’re done you have to listen to what I have to say.”

“That’s fair. Here, why don’t you grab a stick and we’ll play while we talk.” That way he’d be able to keep his hands off her, keep from falling to his knees in front of her and begging. Because he didn’t know if it would be welcome. He wasn’t sure how she felt. But she was here now, all the way down in Texas. And that meant something.

He just hoped she was there for him, for them. Not out of gratitude for Michelle. It might just kill him if she was only there because of that.

Mark motioned for her to break and she bent over the table, lined up, and sent the balls scattering around the table. The orange stripe fell in the corner pocket.

“I’m stripes, you’re solids. Now, let’s talk,” she said, and bent over the table again.

Christ, he wanted to make things right between them. He wanted her back in his life. “Fine, I’ll be solids. Now, shoot and listen. Don’t talk. This is so goddamn hard for me to talk about, but I have to. I have to let you know why what you said hurt me so bad last week, why I haven’t been able to pick up the phone.”

Chalking the tip of her stick again, she leveled her eyes on him, raised a delicate brow. “Mmm-hmm.” She didn’t say a word.

Good. “I married Dina when I was very young. I was an up-and-coming catcher in the major leagues and I was finally getting noticed by women. I was a new man without a past. Nobody knew my secrets, and when Dina pursued me I fell for it. Fell for her. She charmed the hell out of me. We were married three years before she found out I was dyslexic. I’d become damn good about hiding the fact I couldn’t read. And I mean at all, Lorelei. I couldn’t read at all my dyslexia was so bad.” Mark bent over and took a shot. He hit the yellow solid in the corner pocket.

Lorelei just raised an eyebrow again when he looked at her. Not a trace of shock or disgust marred her beautiful face. And it gave him the courage to finish the story. “When I finally told her she said she didn’t care. But then she started to leave notes all over the house for me. On the mirror, on the fridge, on the counters. And it hurt because I knew deep down she was doing it on purpose.” He lined up, sighted the solid green ball, banked it, and sank it into the middle pocket.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He felt a smile tug at his mouth and the tight, hot knot in his gut began to uncoil. “Then I started to see letters left all around the house in handwriting that wasn’t hers. When I asked her about them she said they from her family. I believed her, because I wanted to so bad. I didn’t want to admit to what I knew in my gut was going on. Then one day I came home from practice a little early and heard her voice in the bedroom along with another man’s. I heard her call me a “f*cking retard” to that guy, and say how I was so stupid I couldn’t read the love letters from him she’d been leaving around the house. They had a good laugh over it.”

Lorelei gasped and then a low, feline growl came from her. Her arms crossed over her ample breasts and she started to tap a boot on the floor in a rhythmic tap, tap, tap. “Mmm-hmm.” There was way more emphasis this time.

Mark sank another ball. “I confronted her and she went ballistic, blaming me for her cheating. That was the story of our relationship. She was always accusing, threatening, blaming. It wore me down and ate at my confidence. Made me believe that everything pretty much was my fault. Even that it was my fault she’d never loved me. But she went too far when she blamed me for her infidelity. I left that day and have been struggling to read ever since. I swore no other woman would ever have that kind of power to hurt me. And that’s why I lashed out at you the way I did at Pete’s place. Because you’d hurt me when you told me you’d lied. I’m sorry for it and I apologize. But I don’t want to rehash that fight with you, Lorelei. I can’t. I forgive you and I hope you can forgive me. I just want to move forward from here with you. I just want to be with you.” He straightened and stared across the table at her. Searched her face. “You can talk now.”

“I’m taking the first flight back to Denver.” Lorelei stated, and set her pool stick on the table.

Mark wasn’t sure what to make of the gleam in her eye. “Why would you want to do that?” he asked warily. Maybe she was disgusted by him after all.

Lorelei looked him square in the eye. “So I can go kick her sorry ass, that’s why.”

God, what a woman.

“Now, sweetheart,” he said as the knot is his stomach melted into nothing and his heart started pounding. Hope flared hot behind his ribs.

He started breathing again.

She waved him off. “Oh, all right. Never mind. Knee-jerk reaction.” She huffed, bit her bottom lip, and eyed him. “Now it’s my turn to admit something. The day Michelle was hospitalized, I took your charm. I would have done anything to save that little girl. I’m sorry for taking it from you again, but I’m not sorry for feeling justified in doing so. Now I’m here to give it back to you and to apologize. I know it might not matter, but I still needed to do it in person.”

He watched Lorelei pull his necklace from her skirt pocket and hold it out to him. He didn’t want it. He’d learned a while ago that Lorelei was what mattered, not the cross. He made his own luck. It was nothing but a piece of metal and distant memories.

Mark shrugged a shoulder. “I knew you took it, and told the cops housecleaning had found it. I didn’t blame you. I’d have done the same if I was in your shoes. But I don’t care about that anymore, so put it away. I only care about you.”

She looked at him speculatively for a moment, but he could see the relief practically wash over her as she replaced the cross in her pocket. Her whole body seemed to relax. Then she was rounding the end of the pool table, coming toward him. When she smiled at him through her lashes he almost wept from sight of it. “I’ve got a confession to make.”

“What’s that?” he murmured. Damn, but she looked like a woman on a mission. Positively lethal. Grinning, he took a step in retreat and came up against the wall. He couldn’t wait to hear her confession.

“I came down here to do more with you than apologize and have a chat,” she said, and stopped in front of him. “I just want to be with you, period. Day or night, anytime. Always.”

Good God. A strangled sound escaped him and his knees almost gave out. “Really?” That was brilliant. But Lorelei was scrambling his brain and he couldn’t think.

She stepped into the shadows with him and placed her hands on his chest, and his heart flopped beneath her palms. “I have another confession.”

He didn’t know if he could handle another confession like that. “What’s that?” he whispered.

“I know what you did for Michelle.” Her breath slid moist across his neck as she drew closer. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing. But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before she was hurt. Things would have been different between us if I had.” Her hands were doing crazy things to his insides and all the blood was draining from his head. He covered them with his own and flattened them to his chest.

“It was much more than that and you know it. But that’s not why I’m here.” Lorelei placed a warm, soft kiss on the side of his neck and he hissed. “I have another confession.”

“What’s that, love?” She kissed the underside of his jaw and he felt a shiver dart down his spine.

“I’m so incredibly sorry for the way I treated you. It was inexcusable and I apologize. I admire your strength and determination. And I respect you for having the courage to tell me the truth—even when I don’t deserve it. But I lied when I said I was lying. The truth is, I’m crazy for you. Totally, completely, hopelessly in love with you. And I hope you can forgive me.”

Thank you, God.

Mark grabbed her waist and spun her around until her back was to the wall and covered her body with his, pressed into her. His heart opened right up and all the pain washed away. It filled back up with Lorelei. Only Lorelei. “I’ve got a confession for you.”

She gasped, “What’s that?”

He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth over hers. “I love you, too. And I forgive you. I died inside when you left me last week. I need to be with you. Now, forever. Say you’ll never leave me again. Please. I’ll get on my knees and beg for you. Just please don’t leave me. When you go I can’t breathe.”

He felt her tremble beneath his hands. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’m your woman. And you’re my beautiful, perfect man. My smooth-talking catcher with the fast hands. Now kiss me, show me your moves and make it count.”

He smiled against her mouth. “Anything for you, baby.” Because she was his woman and she was crazy for him. She was beautiful and she thought he was perfect.

And that made her perfect.