Love from Left Field (20 page)

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Authors: Megan Ryder

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: Love from Left Field
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“The pans are below the stove.” She offered.

He jumped at her words, then grinned a sheepish smile. “I was hoping to have breakfast going before you got up. Did I wake you?” He bent down flashing a bit of skin at the top cleft of his ass and claw marks on his back.

She flushed. “I need to trim my nails.” She hopped onto one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar and propped her head on her elbow, hesitating to say what was on her mind. “I thought you had left.”

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “I almost had to, if I couldn’t find the pans. Good thing you keep your fridge stocked.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He placed the pan on the stove and turned on the burner.

Finally, he crossed the small space and took her face in his hands. “If you want me to leave, I will. But I’d rather stay.” He pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, fleeting kiss that ended almost before it had begun.

She curled her hand around his arm to pull him back but he separated from her. “No more of that if we want to eat.”

She made as if to slide off the stool. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.” He slid a cup of tea across the counter. “I can use a teapot at least. Drink your tea and relax.”

Feeling a bit superfluous, she sipped her tea and watched him whip up a couple of omelets and make toast. “You know your way around a kitchen. Unusual for a man who lives out of a suitcase.”

“I’m with most teams for an extended period of time, a few months at least, so hotels and restaurants get old fast. Most teams keep apartments or have deals with management companies for short term housing for players who are traded. They’re great for privacy and not having to go out all the time.”

“Sounds kind of lonely. Do you ever get together with people from the office? Oh wait, you don’t get involved.” The last was said without any real heat, just a teasing tone.

He laid a bowl of fruit on the breakfast bar. “Not like here, true. I’m usually too busy to be lonely.”

“Are you? Or do you just keep yourself busy?” She popped a blueberry in her mouth. “Do you have a girl in every city?”

“What’s this? An interrogation?” He folded the omelet and sprinkled spices on it.

“Just trying to get to know you and my competition.” She held her breath at the last word, trying to gauge his reaction.

He arched a brow at her. “If you want to know if I date a lot, why don’t you just ask?”

“I thought I just did. I want to get to know the guy I’m sleeping with, to see who I’m in contention with.”

He split the omelet and slid it onto two plates. He laid them down in front of her, pulled out the second stool, and sat down to eat. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved with you if I was seeing anyone else.”

She took a bite of her breakfast and moaned, onions, peppers, and spinach flavors teasing her taste buds. “Wow, that’s so good. Or maybe I’m just starving.”

They ate quietly until the plates were scraped clean. She got up and gathered the dishes. “You cooked, I clean.”

“That’s the easy part. You have a dishwasher.” He teased.

She shot him a look. “Fine, you can do the dishes, too. More coffee?” She poured him another mug from the carafe and herself another cup of tea from the kettle. Then she sat on the stool, tension rising inside her, muscles previously relaxed now tense and strained.

“So.” She bit her lower lip, not really sure what else to say.

He waggled his eyebrows. “Want to save some water and shower together?”

Saved from her stupid desire to talk through everything, her stiff shoulders relaxed. “Race you.”

Chapter Twenty

L
ater that morning,
much later than Miranda had planned, she and Lucas rode the elevator to the executive level, holding hands. The doors parted and Cole and Stacia stood on the other side. For a moment, everyone froze like a rabbit scenting a predator, unsure of how to act. Stacia’s gaze dropped to the entwined hands and her brows rose slowly. Cole’s face quickly went blank, not showing any emotion, but his eyes darkened as he looked at Lucas.

Miranda straightened, then tugged Lucas, and they stepped out of the elevator. After a long moment exchanging looks with Lucas, Cole only nodded and got on the elevator. The doors started to close before Stacia shook out of her surprise and slipped inside before they shut.

Miranda let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and looked at Lucas, who was studying her with an unreadable expression. Her hands shook and she stepped into a small alcove off the side of the elevators. Lucas followed her.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t expect to see anyone,” she replied.

He plunged his hands in his pockets. “Does it matter so much?”

“We hadn’t talked about bringing this into the office. How do you feel about it?”

He shrugged. “I’m not ashamed and I won’t hide from us.” He cast her a sideways glance. “How do you feel about it?”

How did she feel? Obviously she felt comfortable enough to be holding his hand in the elevator, in the office. A part of her must have wanted to get caught.

“Why should it matter? We’re both adults. What we do on our own time doesn’t affect anyone else.”

“What if word gets back to your father?”

Shit. Her father. She bit her lower lip and leaned against the wall, mind racing. “Cole won’t say anything. Stacia has no reason to talk to Dad, so I think we’re good.”

He advanced further into the small space, until she could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Maybe I don’t care what your father thinks. Maybe I want everyone to know. What do you think about that?”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I’d prefer to tell my father in my own way. Not have gossip get back to him.”

He retreated a few steps. “So you want to keep this a secret?”

“No, I want you to come to dinner.”

*

Miranda spent the
morning trying to concentrate on status reports, while a part of her whirled away to Lucas and the scene that morning. She hoped he didn’t feel trapped into admitting to the relationship, forced because they were seen. No matter. They were in for it now.

A quick knock at the door was a welcome distraction. She glanced up and saw Stacia in the doorway, an excited look on her face.

She looked behind her then slipped in the door, almost racing to the desk. “So, when did that happen? Opening Day?” Stacia sat in one of the chairs, leaning forward with her elbows on the desk. “I didn’t know you two had gotten so close.”

Miranda face burned, taking her time to choose the right words. Not that she knew what to say. “I’m not really sure how it happened.”

Stacia snorted. “I’ll tell you. Late nights, long hours, traveling. He’s hot and you’re pretty. What else do you need?”

“Respect.” The word came out before she had time to bite it back.

Stacia nodded. “Respect is critical. Do you have it?”

Miranda pursed her lips and gazed out over the empty stadium. “I think so. He listens to me, and offers suggestions, not orders. I didn’t expect that.”

“The brain is the sexiest organ.” Stacia grinned.

Miranda thought for a long moment. It was nice to have someone to talk to. She could trust Stacia. Stacia and Jason rarely spoke with Seamus so her secret would be safe with her. Not only that, since Miranda had taken over the presidency, she had lost several of her friends. Different interests and all that, not to mention time. She and Stacia had known each other for years growing up but had gotten much closer since last fall when Stacia helped, and subsequently fell in love, with Jason Friar. She had had the same struggles and figured it out. Maybe she could help Miranda.

“Is that how it happened with you and Jason?”

Stacia leaned back in the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I’m not really sure how it happened. Hot sex helped but it was more important that he was there for me, supporting me with my job, my father. It happened slow, over time.”

Miranda shifted forward in her chair and propped her chin in her hand. “You only had a few months.”

“That was the beginning of our relationship. We didn’t decide to marry right away. We work on it every day. You and Lucas are just getting started. You’ll figure it out.” Stacia paused. “What does your father think?”

Miranda laughed. “I haven’t told him yet. But I have to, especially now that it’s in the open.”

Stacia stood up. “Well, stick firm, Miranda. I like Lucas and I think he can be good for you. Don’t let anyone else into your relationship. It’s hard enough with two people, never mind adding in a third person.”

She walked out of the room, leaving Miranda to her thoughts.

Chapter Twenty-One

T
wo weeks later,
Miranda and Lucas stood at the front door of her parent’s house. Miranda fiddled with the strap of her purse, dropping the keys to the house. She cursed softly and Lucas bent down to pick them up. He held them just out of reach when she grabbed for them, a teasing smile on his face.

She stopped and planted her fists on her hips. “Give me the keys, Lucas.” She tapped her foot on the concrete porch step.

“Not yet. You’re too tense.”

“I’ll be better once this night is over. Trust me.”

“Nope, we can’t wait that long.”

He tucked the keys in his back pocket and slid a hand around her waist, pulling her close to him. She placed her hands on his chest, holding them apart. He slanted his lips on hers, soft and gentle, designed to relax her, not get her all excited. He slid his other hand up her back and into the loose blond waves. He held her head in place for his devastating kiss, stripping her mind of all thought and worry. When he lifted his head, she blinked at the blinding porch light that his head had been blocked.

“Better?”

She grinned and tucked her arm in his. “Let’s do it.”

Before he could hand her the keys, the door opened, revealing Gwen. “I wondered how long you were going to stand there. Did you forget your key?”

Miranda blushed and opted to hug her mother instead of answering. “Mom, you remember Lucas.”

“Of course I do.” Gwen pulled him in for an embrace. “I never thanked you for your help at the hospital. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded. “That wasn’t necessary, Mrs. Callahan. You helped my mom out when my dad got sick.”

“Family sticks together,” she replied. “And you’re basically family. Come in. Seamus is in the family room, probably sneaking
Baseball Tonight
. Lucas, can you help me in the kitchen? Oh and call me Gwen.”

Miranda and Lucas exchanged a glance. Gwen didn’t wait for a response. She linked on to his other arm and drew him deeper into the house, leaving Miranda feeling oddly bereft. She sighed and headed towards the family room, where she could already hear the baseball commentators breaking down teams and games.

“Hi, Daddy.” She leaned over and kissed her father on the top of the head.

He jerked awake and almost upended his recliner. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. What’s the word on the Knights?”

He jutted his chin towards the television. “They’re up next. What have you been doing to my team? I told you not to trade for Prosser, and this bullshit about small ball and stuff. That’s not how real men play baseball.”

She gritted her teeth but kept a smile on her face, even if it was brittle and hard. “More than half of the league plays small ball now, especially small market teams like us. We’ve done pretty well, a good win streak. First time in ten years.”

“What’s been going on with the Georgia Knights? Weren’t they guaranteed to be back in the cellar, despite their playoff appearance last season? They were gutted by the rest of the league, as if they were the minors, and yet without making a big trade, they have one of the best records in baseball in the first two weeks.”

Seamus avoided her knowing look. “We look ridiculous.”

“We look great shaking hands on the field after a win, Dad. The players are positive and hustling.”

“They damn well better play hard. I pay them well for playing a goddamn game. And it’s the beginning of the season. Everyone is positive now.”

“Prosser was a great pick up. Hitting at the plate and settling down that young pitching staff. Who knew? Certainly not Minnesota.”

“Just because overpaid television people think we’re doing well doesn’t mean you’re right.” He turned to face her, looking tired and older than he had before the surgery. “I still own the team, Miranda. You work for me. What possessed you to make these changes?”

“They’ve worked for other teams.” Lucas stepped in the room and walked right up to Seamus, holding out his hand.

Seamus stared at the outstretched hand as if it were a coral snake about to strike, distaste written all across his face. “I should have known you’d ruin my team.”

Lucas pulled his hand back, his face calm and body loose and relaxed. “If you call a winning record ruin, then I’ll take that charge.”

“Lucas is right, Daddy. I spoke with some of the other teams and did some research, as did Cole. Lucas only suggested some options.”

He whirled around in his chair, eyes wide. “You shared our troubles with outsiders? It’s bad enough we have this snake in our offices, but to share it with other people? That’s unacceptable.” He slammed his fist on his chair and winced slightly.

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