Love from Left Field (22 page)

The cheers died down and they watched him.

He shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe you all did this for me. Thank you so much. Cake was exactly what I needed today.”

He spied a plate next to the cake. Oatmeal raisin. Memories assaulted him from his younger years, stopping by Grace Ann’s desk and her slipping him a cookie or three whenever he visited his father. She always had a full cookie jar for him and, when his father passed, a plate of cookies had been dropped by the house anonymously. He knew who it had been but he was in too much pain to say anything.

He searched the faces until he found hers. He took two long strides until he stood in front of her. “You remembered.”

“Always.” She laid a hand cautiously on his cheek, a fond look on her face.

He smiled and gathered her up in a hug. “Thank you for now, and back then,” he whispered in her ear.

The tears in her eyes as he pulled away let him know that she knew exactly to which event he was referring.

Miranda also had tears in her eyes, a little sheen that only he could see. She handed him a knife. “Be careful. I know you’re out of practice cutting cake.”

“I think I can manage.” He cut the cake into several slices and Miranda served them. Most people had to go back to their desk, taking slices for their colleagues who had remained at their desks to answer calls. He thanked each one of them, making sure to add a name wherever possible. It wasn’t as difficult as he had imagined. The names came easily, as did the conversation. Finally, the room was empty except for him, Cole, Jason, Stacia, and Miranda.

He pulled out a chair next to Miranda and took a piece of cake. German chocolate. His favorite.

“How did you pull this off?”

She shrugged. “Your mom. Took a little convincing but she said German chocolate was your favorite. She even told me the bakery she used to use. How is it?”

He took a bite, letting the chocolate, pecan, and coconut flavors roll along his tongue.

He closed his eyes and moaned. “Oh, my God. I haven’t had German chocolate cake this good since I was a kid. It’s exactly as I remembered.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Thank you.”

Relief flashed across her face, so quick he thought he had imagined it. He resisted the urge to kiss her, with the audience staring at them. They all ate quietly until finally Cole stood.

“I have a call with Seattle. They’re looking at a couple of our prospects. Might have some good options for us,” he stated.

“Banyan and Moore?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. Good on base percentage and decent fielding. Banyan has potential at first, good back up for Lockhart, especially if he continues to struggle.”

Everyone sat, lost in their own thoughts. First base continued to be an issue for them. Lockhart struggled at first and at the plate. Sometimes new players couldn’t translate their success in the minors to the majors, and sometimes they let nerves get the best of them. No one could figure out what happened with Lockhart, why he was having so much trouble, but they had to fix it, or find someone else. The pressure was on because they all knew Seamus Callahan was coming back soon, calling more frequently, and he would demand a decision. They’d prefer to have a plan in place rather than letting him force a change that wouldn’t be in their best interest.

“Can Banyan step in to first now or does he need time in Triple-A? And why are they getting rid of him?” Miranda asked, always looking for the bad deal.

“They are deep at first, too many players, not enough playing time. Banyan will never reach the majors with them unless he changes position.”

“So what do they want in exchange?” Jason asked.

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Cole admitted. “They need relief pitching. I think they want Hanley or Polonio.”

“Damn,” Jason echoed the sentiment of everyone in the room.

“What does Sam think?” Miranda asked, referring to the manager of the team.

“He wants Banyan. Bad. We’re losing runs due to errors at first. We need to shore that up.”

Miranda glanced at Lucas. “What do you think?”

All eyes turned to him, not one of them with any animosity. They had all accepted him as a member of their team. Even Cole, who had been the most suspicious.

Lucas nodded. “We need Banyan. I’d trade Hanley. He’s a right hander and he’s been hit hard this season. Will Seattle take him?”

“They think he’ll fit in their ballpark. I’ll offer him and see what we can get.” Cole wiped his hands, nodding to Lucas, and headed out.

Jason and Stacia followed quickly, quietly shutting the door, leaving Miranda and Lucas alone in the conference room. Lucas set his empty plate on the table and studied her. Miranda sat primly in her seat, looking everywhere but at him.

“Thank you.”

Her radiant smile made it all worthwhile. “We’ll celebrate more later.”

The promise in her words heated his blood yet something was still bothering him. He had been accepted by everyone, judging by the birthday party. What would they think if they knew what he knew – that Roger was trying to replace their leadership with someone new, and install Lucas as president over their beloved Miranda? He couldn’t share that information. No one would believe he didn’t know about it. And even if he rejected the idea, he still felt like he was deceiving them, lying to them about what was going on. And he was lying by omission. Not telling Miranda or any of them about his conversation was wrong but he feared them thinking he was acting on the motives they accused him of when he started – of trying to take over the team for his father. No, he had to stick to his plan, which was to help the team succeed. That hopefully would be enough to block Roger and his plans.

Hopefully.

*

“You’re awfully quiet.”
Miranda leaned into his side.

Automatically, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her close, when deep inside, his emotions roiled like the ocean after a hurricane.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “You’ve been in an odd mood since your birthday cake. Didn’t you like it?” She sounded anxious, nervous about his reaction. “I know you hate being made a fuss over.”

He smiled and hugged her. “It was perfect. I never expected it.”

“Everyone wanted to do it. You’ve become part of our family.”

Her words stabbed him in the heart. He had been a part of them, then left, and was now back again. But for how long? Until his next job? Until Roger’s plan came to fruition? And even if he didn’t agree, would they all reject him when, and if, they found out? Because they always found out, Lucas knew. Secrets never stay secrets for long. If he wasn’t such a coward, he’d come clean now and take his chances. But he wanted one last night, one last chance with Miranda. Then, he’d deal with tomorrow.

Besides, it was his birthday and didn’t she promise him something special?

He unlocked the car and opened the door for her. He braced his arm against the roof of the car, blocking her entrance. “What was that about a special celebration?”

A sexy smile crossed her face and she ran a finger down his chest, sending goose bumps along his skin. “We have to wait until we get home. But here’s a little preview.”

She tugged the edges of his light jacket and pulled him close. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, her tongue darting inside for a brief foray into his mouth. He tasted the sweetness of the orange juice and the bite of gin, along with the after dinner mint she had slipped in her mouth as they left the restaurant. He dipped his head further, sliding a hand around her waist, when she wiggled out of his embrace.

“Later, cowboy.” She ducked in the car, laughing at him.

He groaned and raced around the car, eager to get home.

They barely made in the door of Miranda’s condo when she launched herself at him, wrapping arms and legs around him, fusing her lips to his. He unzipped her dress while not breaking the kiss and slid if off her shoulders, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the end table. She kicked off her shoes and tore at his shirt, undoing buttons, loosening a few in her haste to get to skin.

He lifted his head, breathing coming hard and fast. “Wait, not here.”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her along the hallway to the bed room. He didn’t turn on the lights. Enough light shone through the windows from the moon and street lights to let him clearly see her. She tried to grab him again but he neatly caged her hands in his and laid her down on the bed, holding her wrists above her head, brushing the headboard.

“Don’t move them or I’ll have to tie you up.”

She shivered at his words, clearly excited, and he wished he had time to explore that little fantasy. Maybe next time. If there was a next time. He banished those thoughts from his head and focused on Miranda, on this moment. Be damned the future.

He lowered his head, brushing her lips with his. When she opened her mouth for a deeper kiss, he pulled back, and traced the edges of her jaw with his tongue and little nips. She moaned and turned her head but he lifted again and traced the other side, avoiding her lips. He trailed kisses down her throat, stopping to tongue the notch at the base. She shuddered and threw her head back, arching into his lips. He chuckled against her skin, feeling her pulse beat rapidly in a staccato beat.

He cupped her swollen breast, rubbing the taut peak with his thumb. She jerked and sucked in a deep breath. He tweaked a nipple with his fingers and sucked the other in his mouth, alternating lashing it with his tongue then pulling it deep. He played with her breasts for a time until she was crying out, begging him for relief.

He glanced up. Her hands remained where he told her to, but they trembled with the effort. With one last lick, he moved down further, placing light, butterfly kisses on the smooth skin of her stomach until he reach the apex of her thighs. She was tense under him, muscles quivering, as she waited his next move.

His fingers swept over her center, and plunged deep into her channel, wringing a cry from her lips. She lifted her hips in time with his action. He curved them slightly to hit the perfect spot deep inside and within moments she was coming, hard. He spread her legs and placed a kiss on her still quivering flesh, avoiding her sensitive clit until her muscles had relaxed. He licked a path up to the tiny button engorged with blood, flicking it with his tongue. He sucked her deep, and she writhed, keening her pleasure. Another climax hit her hard and she screamed.

While she calmed, he grabbed a condom and sheathed himself. He came over her and waited until she opened her eyes. She was boneless beneath him, and her eyes were dazed and unfocused. He kissed her and she blinked. He positioned himself at her entrance and buried himself deep inside. Her channel pulsed with her recent climax, squeezing him tight, pulling him deeper.

“You can move your arms,” he murmured while placing gentle kisses on her lips.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. All too quickly he was swept away by his own passion and he came with a shout. Miranda followed right after him. After, he rolled to the side not to crush her, breathing harshly, a sheen of sweat on his skin. She panted next to him.

“Oh, my God. Where did that come from? It was supposed to be your birthday.” She gasped.

“And I got exactly what I wanted.” He sounded smug and he didn’t care.

“When I catch my breath, I’ll give you your present.”

“No hurry.” He huffed. “I can’t move anyway.”

“Not that, silly.” With a groan, she rolled off the bed. “I think you killed me.”

“What a way to go.”

She laughed and headed for the door. He propped himself on his elbows. “Where are you going?”

“Hang on!” She called over her shoulder.

Within moments, she came back in the bedroom and handed him a wrapped box. She climbed onto the bed next to him and sat cross-legged. “Open it.”

He eyed her nervously. It had been years since he had received a birthday present. Yes, he got cards from his siblings and mother, with a gift card or something inside. But a present? He couldn’t recall the last time, maybe before his father had died. He ripped open the paper, watching Miranda almost bouncing in excitement. He lifted the cover of the box. A Knights jersey was folded inside.

“Take it out,” she demanded.

He shook it out and turned it over. The word
Wainright
was spelled out in big letters along with a number two.

“You’re part of the family now.”

Her words hit him like a sucker punch to the groin. He stared at it, eyes prickling.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked, doubt in her tone.

He swallowed thickly. “I love it. Thank you. This has been the best birthday.”

“Good.” She smiled satisfied. “Now for your other present.”

She pushed him down and proceeded to have her way with him.

Much later, as she lay snuggled against his side, snoring lightly, he stared at the shirt.

How could he ever tell her the truth?

S
unday afternoon and
all was right with the world. A baseball game, a hot dog, and a beer. What more could anyone want? Oh yes, for the Knights to continue winning and a sold-out crowd in the park.