Saving Maverick (17 page)

Next was Ian's turn and he too missed. He went back to stand at Mav's side and struck a similar pose. Hip cocked to one side and hands wrapped around the pool stick, he asked Maverick what it was like playing in the big leagues.

Maverick could have given any number of responses. The standard “it's a privilege” and how satisfying it was after playing for so many years in Little League and college, but that would have been lip service. No, the kids, and Ian, deserved a heartfelt and truthful answer.

“It's fricking awesome.” He kept watching the current players and threw out a few words of encouragement and looked down to see Ian looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“What, kid, you were expecting something more like ‘its hard work, yada, yada, yada'? Well, it is, but it's the best thing in the world and most days it's fun. Even when we lose it's fun. Because, hey, I get to play baseball . . . for a living.”

“Yeah, but what about when you couldn't pitch right? Didn't that suck?” Ian asked.

“
Yes, it did and still does. But now that I'm getting over that setback, and gaining rhythm again, I can look back now and say it was still okay. I was still with my teammates and like any good team when one is down, the others pick up the slack.”

“But your team lost the division championships. Weren't you pissed off?”

So a thirteen-year-old boy was able to call him out where everyone else tap-danced around him. Maybe he should start spending more time hanging with this kid. Ian called it like he saw it, no glossing over the reality of the situation.

No excuses, not even the biggest one he could have used. His brother's death. Just label it and deal. “Yeah, I was. I also didn't handle that situation very well. I made a few mistakes, but I'm working on overcoming them. I'm not going to lie, it still stinks but sometimes the best way to succeed is to learn from those disappointments in life and still keep going.” Listen to him, Mr. Philosopher. Dr. Sloane would be proud.

“So tell me a bit about yourself, Ian. What do you like to do for fun? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Maverick asked.

“Yeah, I have a little sister. That's her over there sitting next to Sam. Her name's—”

“Holly,” Maverick supplied. “Nice tutu. Do they offer ballet classes here?”

“Nah, she just likes to wear it. Everywhere.” Ian shrugged his shoulders and looked away from Holly who was waving at him. “Mom lets her because she's too busy with her jobs and all. Plus, my dad . . .”

Maverick waited for Ian to continue. But the kid stared off into the distance until someone called his name, telling him it was his turn to shoot. Should he have encouraged Ian to continue what he was about to say or let it go? Since it was his first time with the kids, he'd ask
Sam
later if he was allowed to discuss personal issues with them, and decided to let it drop for now.

There was plenty of good-natured ribbing between the kids and when the first thirty minutes was up, there was also plenty of complaining that someone didn't set the clock right. Maverick grinned at the easy way they all interacted and walked over to the other pool table, and met his new partner.

He noticed Ian standing in the far corner next to the bank of windows. He didn't seem interested in joking around with anyone. He hadn't even said “see ya” to Maverick when the game was done.

Maverick saw a lonely kid, a bit like him with what sounded like father issues. When he came back next time, he'd try to figure out a way to get him to talk about it. Maybe they could help each other.

Chapter 19

“You cut your hair,” Kelsey's mother complained.Kelsey stood back and watched as her mother once again entered her life, sure to cause havoc.

Flashbacks from her childhood overwhelmed her as she absorbed the accusing glare. “Well, hello to you too, Mom.Won't you come in?”

When she'd heard the knock on her door well after nine p.m. she thought maybe it was Lara in need of some girl talk or even Maverick, though she hadn't yet given him her address.

Instead it was her mother. Perfect.

“Kelsey, you want to tell me what's going on with you and this Maverick boy? Didn't your father prove to you, to both of us, to stay away from ballplayers? Good-for-nothing, walking hard-ons is what they are and you need to keep your legs closed, you understand?” Victoria Sullivan certainly knew how to make an entrance.

“Gee Mom, have a seat, tell me how you really feel,” Kelsey said.

“Listen, I don't need your smart mouth right now. I raised you, on my own, and if I want to visit you, I sure as hell don't need a reason.” Her mother walked on three-inch heels and plopped her tiny butt on the couch and sighed. “Now, be a good girl and bring me a moscato.”

“
Mom, I don't have any moscato. Too sweet for me. All I can offer you is a dry chardonnay or a protein shake.” By the looks of her mother's thin frame, the protein shake would be the wiser choice.

“Hell, all right, I'll take the chardonnay. Tomorrow we'll hit the Fred Meyer and you can buy your mother her favorite drink.” The smile Victoria sent her was outlined with deep grooves and faded lip gloss. Older than her years. She looked sixty when in fact she hadn't yet seen her forty-fifth birthday.

Kelsey had thought she wanted to see her mom but now she regretted sending her a text letting her know she was in town. She didn't have time to deal with her mother if she was off the wagon again.

An hour later and an entire bottle of wine, which her mother polished off by herself, it looked like she might need to step in and convince her mother to finally go to rehab. Kelsey braced herself for a fight.

There'd be no warm homecoming this trip.

She had to teach him a lesson. No one ignored her. Ever. Not even Maverick Jansen. She knew it was wrong, but the compulsion to have him begging her for forgiveness was too strong. Plus, she always got what she wanted.

When she was a little girl if she wanted something she didn't go to her mother, she asked her daddy for the new toy or party dress she just had to have. And if she didn't get it, she cried. So she got her way—every time.

Looking
through the recent pictures she'd finished editing in a free online photo program she found, the middle one showed off Maverick's eyes the best. The whore he was with didn't have a clue Mav was just using her to make her jealous. She'd feel sorry for poor Kelsey, if she didn't hate her so much.

She'd show them all that Maverick was her man and that only she could give him what he really needed. She grinned to herself and finished cropping the picture she was sure would convince Maverick to call her. She'd give him one more chance to see for himself that they should be together, before she sent this photo to
lookatme.com
.

Maverick woke up the next morning feeling upbeat. A feeling he hadn't had in quite a while. The kids at the club yesterday were fun and welcomed him without making him feel like a bug under a microscope. Even serious Sam seemed to warm up to him by the time he'd left.

He knew Kelsey's plan was the way to go, but felt a bit of guilt at using the Children's Club as a means to an end. He'd let her convince him, with help from her sinfully luscious body, that he needed to commit—to something. And now that he'd met them and hung out and saw how much he brightened their day, he knew he'd definitely go back.

For them, not for the publicity.

Mav rolled over to look at the bedside clock and noticed black fabric sticking out from the bed sheet. Kelsey's panties. He grinned and remembered what it was like to have her with him.

Not
a good way to start his day without her, hard as a rock with no relief but his own hand in sight. She'd rocked his world and he wanted more. And now one of his problems was no longer a problem, thanks to Kelsey. But, did he want more than just a good time?

If he was honest with himself, she was the forever-after kind of woman and he really shouldn't be stepping into that ocean right now. What he needed, what he always thought he needed, was baseball in his life and everything else would fall into place.

Now that his career was in question, his ability to throw his signature pitch, the cut ball, was a big fat question mark, and he found himself yearning for a connection with a woman. Something he thought would happen later in life, much later.

He bolted out of bed and strode naked into the kitchen and made coffee. After his first cup, he poured another and headed back to his room to hit the shower. As he passed his nightstand, his phone buzzed.

Glaring at it and looking at the clock he wondered who needed him so early. Maybe it was Kelsey? He hardened at the mere thought of her. Shit, he was one big walking hormone where she was concerned.

Picking up the phone he looked through his unread messages and instead of finding Kelsey's name, he saw a number he didn't recognize. The last time that had happened . . . dammit. Things had been quiet for a few days and he'd hoped whoever was playing head games with him had gotten bored.

He read the message and saw the attached photo and—holy shit. Okay, so not bored. The stakes had just been raised.

Maybe you just needed a reminder that we should be together. *wink*

The
photo had been doctored. It was one of him during the make-out session with Kelsey downtown, outside for anyone to witness. You could tell it was him, but the woman in his arms was definitely not Kelsey.

A woman with blond hair, which conveniently obscured her face, was now superimposed over Kelsey. A nipple flashed between the unbuttoned blouse on some other woman's torso, not Kelsey's. Having recently had the pleasure of kissing Kelsey in that exact spot, he knew for damn sure that wasn't her chest.

He threw the phone and marched back into his room. He stood in the shower and made a list in his head of the women he'd been with in the past year. Before the accident and losing the championship game, he'd had plenty of flings. None of them stood out as the stalker type. Not that he knew exactly what to look for in a stalker, but none of them had been possessive or demanding of his time. They knew the score.

The situation had gone from annoying to “what the hell” in a matter of days. Whoever it was probably wasn't going away. This was the last thing he needed in an already intense time in his career. He should be focused on his pitching, not worrying about what could happen next.

Chapter 20

Kelsey was nervous. And she never was. Especially where men were concerned. And the current man in question had done things to her she hadn't even thought to dream of. Now they were going to spend an evening together. In public. Pretending to be a couple.

She didn't want a relationship. Just some good times and move on. But if she were honest with herself, which she had to be or risk losing her mind, she'd begun feeling something for him and it was more than an itch that she all of a sudden needed to scratch.

She heard her mom call for her. Kelsey zipped up the maroon cocktail dress she'd found on sale the last time she was in New York and walked barefoot down to the guest room. “What's up, Mom? I have ten minutes before Lara's due to meet me here.”

“What are you doing again? And why can't I tag along?” Victoria asked. “I'll keep to myself and you won't even know I'm there.”

“Mom, we've been over this. The whole reason I'm letting you even stay with me and not in some rehab facility is because you promised to stop drinking. We're going to the casino on the reservation, there's alcohol there, and Lord-knows-who there as well to sell you whatever else
you'
re looking for. It's not the safest place for you now.” Kelsey pinched her earlobe and put on her favorite gold hoops. She sent her mother the sternest look she could muster.

Victoria's thin lips disappeared into her face and she crossed her arms. The switch of who was parent and who was child had happened years ago. “Kelsey, you need to get down from that high horse you've been sitting on. I'm your momma and I don't need you telling me how to live my life.”

“Really, Mom? Let's take a look at how well you've been living your life lately, hmm? You go from loser to loser and dig yourself deeper into a bottle each time it doesn't work out. You call me crying and begging for money. And you allow men to rule your self-worth. You started with Daddy and haven't stopped since.”

“Missy, you better watch what you say or I'll leave right now,” Victoria shot back.

“The door's right behind you.” Kelsey pressed her nails into her palms, and relaxed her fingers. Her mother didn't move. “You want to live here, without a job and no money to buy your own things, then you need to follow my rules or this is it. Because I swear this will be the last time you play the ‘poor me' card. Do we understand each other?”

Victoria gave a slight nod. Kelsey didn't feel good about how she spoke to her mother, but she needed to show her she was no longer going to be an easy mark. Her hope for a normal mother-daughter relationship had long ago been crushed, and she needed to put her big girl panties on and deal. The fairy tale wasn't happening.

She watched as her mother turned around and teetered on her heels into the guest room and slammed her door. Kelsey was tired of being the responsible daughter and helping her mother out whenever she chose to show back up in her life.

She
needed tonight to let off a little steam and tomorrow she'd figure out a better plan on how to handle her mom. Because she sure as hell couldn't be around Victoria Sullivan for more than a week at a time.

Lara arrived ten minutes later and let herself in. Kelsey's mom had locked herself in the guest room and wouldn't come out to say hello.