“So, your wife found out?” I asked, feeling painfully sorry for this man, even though he was far from the victim. This still wasn’t anything I could use. Player knocks up stripper, loses wife, takes the kid. Ugh!
“Yeah. She tried to stay for a while. We went to counseling. Jasmine took off, saying the baby was too much for her to handle, but not before shaking me down for a pretty penny to sign over custody. We couldn’t have kids, so it was actually a godsend at first. My wife was happy, loved that little boy, and I thought was forgiving me for my indiscretion.”
“So, what happened?”
“He was diagnosed with autism at three. She took off, saying it was my punishment for being a cheater, not hers.”
My heart ached. The woman I once thought so sweet was now looking like a monster to me. “That’s horrible.” His eyes softened on mine. His stiff, squared chin relaxed, his lips parted, and a soft sigh escaped his throat.
“No. She was a good woman for trying. I don’t blame her, but then again, I don’t take the blame for Benny’s disease either. He’s a great kid. There’s not been one day that’s felt like a punishment being his father.”
“Wow.” I didn’t mean for that to be out loud.
He told me all about Benny. He was now seven, in first grade, and keeping up with the other kids pretty damn well. The look of pride in his eyes when he spoke gave me goosebumps. I jotted all the information in my notes, realizing that no matter how he got Benny, he was the story the fans needed to hear about.
I wrapped up our interview with a quick hug. It felt good to talk to Blake, especially after he quit bringing up my dad. “I bet your old man’s so proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said as he released our hug.
His hands were on my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “It was real good of Rhett to try and make things right for Bobby,” he said softly.
I stared into his eyes, my body frozen in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Redness soared onto his cheeks like wildfire, his eyes shifted from their lock on mine and lowered toward the ground. “Hey, Osborne, let’s go!” one of the players yelled from the corridor.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “It was real good talking to ya, Katrina. I hope you got everything you needed.”
Yeah, I got what I needed, and then some. What did he mean by Rhett making things right for my dad?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Todd
It was the bottom of the ninth against the Mets in our first exhibition game against each other. The bases were loaded, my knees ached like a son of a bitch, and the Florida heat was making my balls so sweaty they stuck to my cup.
I caught Kat from the corner of my eye, snapping pictures, and posing the players with the fans. She’d worked hard the last couple weeks. From the looks of her, too hard. Her shorts were loose, baggy around her hips, and the tank top she’d once filled out so nicely just hung against her skin. Dark smudges under her eyes made it look like she hadn’t slept in days. What was wrong?
She looked over her shoulder, our eyes met, and somehow the universe halted, allowing us the time to gaze into one another’s souls. Yes, I missed her. I thought it was obvious she missed me too.
My knees screamed with agony as I squatted over the plate. My eyes moved over the field then toward Calvin on the mound, watching his movements and reading his thoughts. I knew he was tired, his fastballs taking a toll over the last several innings. I signaled a change up as the batter waited for the next pitch, he nodded. This was it. We were ahead 10-8, two strikes, and one hit could mean losing the game. That was something I wasn’t willing to do against my old team.
Calvin wound up the pitch, my glove moved to the lower left of the strike zone. Vibrations rushed through my hand and to my body as the ball slammed into my glove. “Strike three, yourrrr out!” The umpire's words were like music to my ears.
I jumped up, immediately ran to the mound, lifting Calvin from his feet and slinging him around like he was a rag doll. We were finally working well together. Fuckin’ finally! Kat snapped pictures of the two of us, smiling from behind her camera when she caught me looking at her. Damn, that girl was under my skin.
“You look like you’re having fun,” I said, leaning against the fence toward Kat.
Her face flushed with color as she turned to find me standing there. Yeah, I caught you lookin’ at me.
“Just doing my job,” she said sweetly.
“About that. I’m really sorry… for everything,” I admitted.
Her eyes softened, her lips parted. I could see her cheeks fighting against the smile forming on her face. God, I’d missed that look, that smile.
“I’m sorry too,” she said. For what, I had no idea. I was the ass. She’d kept her promise to leave Marcus out of the media, using herself instead to spin the angle. There were still so many questions about why we were in that part of town, and I knew her life would be much easier if we told the truth. But she didn’t, and for that, I was appreciative.
“You’ve got no reason to be sorry.”
“You look tired,” I noted.
She let out a sigh, closed her eyes for a moment, and then stared into mine. “Rhett has me working overtime to set up charity events.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and actually, I could really use your help.” She smiled, and I knew I’d help her with anything.
“Anything you need, it’s yours,” I offered, realizing that was a stretch.
“There’s an event scheduled at the elementary school up the street. I could really use you there to help ease the last incident,” she tossed out in her semiprofessional, semi-sexually seductive tone.
I nodded. “Deal. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asked with exhaustion in her tone.
“Go to the beach with me afterwards.”
“Why? You plan on wrestling a shark?” she asked, chuckling beneath her anxiety.
I slid up my sleeve, exposed the large scar I’d received from a cleat in the minors and smiled. “Been there, done that.”
Her eyes widened, her lips formed a circle of surprise as she ran her fingers across my scarred skin. Her touch brought something alive in me, not just sexually, something else, something deeper. I laughed at her naivety, explaining how the guy on third base had almost torn my arm off. “I’ll never play without my gear again,” I laughed. “So, is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” she replied.
There was that smile again, fighting not to appear. Her cheeks twitched, turned a pretty shade of pink that reminded me of the tender flesh between her legs, causing my dick to jump in my pants.
“You don’t think I’ll scare the kids, do ya?” I asked, pointing at the faded bruises on my face. The black under my eyes had begun to turn a lime green, but the marks on my cheeks were still dark purple.
“I can fix that,” she said, moving her hand slowly toward my face. The smoothness of her skin against mine felt so good. I wanted to reach up and touch her, but I didn’t.