The Heat Is On (17 page)

The Sonics were leading the Yankees 5–3 at Yankee Stadium in game one of the World Series. The team had come together and they were playing like an accomplished orchestra. Carlos's pitching was impeccable, Jake made a brilliant defensive play, while Gavin knocked in a two-run homer.

They were like a different group of guys. While they had goofed-off much of the season, pranked each other mercilessly, partied, and had a good time, when the heat was on, they stepped up.

They had gotten here once before and lost to the Yankees, and had to bear the misery of getting so close only to have victory snatched away. It had taken two more seasons to get back here, but each and every player would say the memory of the World Series that had gotten away still stung.

And that drove them. The New Jersey team wasn't nearly as talented as the Yankees, not as sophisticated, or as operationally perfect. But they wanted this win, wanted it in their hearts and every fiber of their being.

“All right, we just have to close out this inning, not let them score,” Pete said to the team as Julio Martinez jogged out to the mound. “We need everybody focused, everybody doing their best. You've been playing real good today. Let's do this!”

They stepped onto the field, each player eager to make his contribution. Thankfully, they were not facing the top of the lineup. The first batter stepped up to the plate and popped up for an easy out.

The crowd exploded, the Sonics fans on the edge of their seats. But then the Yankees fans erupted as the next batter got on base; but the following batter smacked the ball right to Jake, who threw to Gavin on first for the double play and the inning was over.

The New Jersey Sonics had taken game one!

The stands were quiet as the disappointed Yankees fans filed out. The Sonics lined up, high-fiving each other, and tipping their caps to the crowd. Champagne flowed, but Connor searched for one person.

Tracy.

He spotted her with Jessica and Nikki, right behind home plate. Breaking free from the mob of reporters, he jogged to the fence, eager to share his overwhelming exhilaration.

“Do you believe this?”

“Yes!” Tracy gave him a big smile, her hand touching his through the fence. “Congratulations, big guy! You did it!”

“We're not there yet,” he said, giving her fingers a squeeze. “But game one is huge. You get the momentum.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed.

“I have to get back, answer some questions. Wait for me?” His gray-green gaze met hers, filled with excitement.

She smiled. “Sure.”

Thankfully, he didn't see the tears in her eyes.

Connor returned to the ball field just in time to see Carlos squat down to the grass and embrace his kids with a big bear hug. Something tugged at his heart as he glanced around him, saw families everywhere celebrating, hugging, crying, and just enjoying the moment.

The kids should be here.
He couldn't stop the thought, or the ache that followed. Carlos's children bowled him over, while Camelia smiled down at them.

A reporter approached him, putting a microphone in his face and asking, “Could today be any more perfect?”

“Nope,” Connor replied. “Now we just have to win the rest of the games.”

“Do you really have to go?” Connor asked Tracy as she got up from the table to leave.

They were celebrating the win at a local sports pub, where the owners had obligingly closed off a room for the team. Jake and Nikki were there, as well as Chase and Darcy. Gavin and Jessica entered the room shortly after, while Carlos had decided to go home and enjoy with his family.

“Yes. I have to get the train back. My sitter has to be home by midnight. Jeremy is taking them this weekend, but I didn't want to ask my parents since my father is still recovering.”

“Right. How is he doing?” Connor searched her face.

“Okay. The doctor said it's just going to take some time.”

“I'll bet.” Something was wrong, he could sense it. All of his instincts were on high alert. It wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but she seemed a little distant, as if she had something on her mind. She'd been distracted after the game, unable to focus on the fun and the conversations around her.

Was she worried about her father? Or something else, maybe one of the kids?

But it wasn't the time to get into it, not with so many people around. So he gave her a quick kiss, and then frowned as she walked quickly out the door without looking back.

Connor had a strange feeling that he was losing her.

And he had absolutely no idea why.

She saw the interview on the news that night. Connor looked incredibly handsome as he fielded the reporters' questions, so happy and self-assured.

As if he had everything he ever needed or wanted.

She couldn't do this; she knew it now with a certainty. Jeremy would make their lives hell, and Connor deserved better than that.

It wasn't fair, but that was the way it was. Jeremy would never accept the situation, especially if he had some kind of underlying mental illness. He didn't want her to be happy, didn't want to see her with another man regardless of his own behavior. But for him to besmirch Connor in the media, make him look any less than the man he was, that would be unforgivable.

But she was the one who had made the mistakes, who had chosen Jeremy when even her parents tried to talk her out of marrying him. She'd also made the choice to bear his children.

And that was the other part. Right now Mason was the biggest problem, but the others would grow up, too, and have their own issues. What was that saying? Little people, little problems? Big people…

But Connor had nothing to do with any of it, and now the best thing she could do would be to let him go. She wouldn't tell him now; she didn't want to upset him during the World Series. But once it was over, she knew she would have to walk away.

Tears filled her eyes as she turned off the television and got ready for bed. She performed all of the mundane tasks of getting bottles ready, putting out the cereal for the others. And she washed her face and brushed her teeth, slipping on an old T-shirt, and then as part of her ritual, stopped to check in on Lily.

Her baby would grow up without Connor, without his laughter, his support, his genuine caring. And even though the idea was heartbreaking, she would have to find the strength to do the right thing.

For everyone's sake.

Connor drove up to Tracy's house, a huge bouquet of roses beside him on the passenger seat.

The Yankees had taken game two, but thankfully when the Sonics returned to Trenton, they answered back and won game three. Tonight's play started at seven, so Connor intended to pop in to see Tracy before heading out for batting practice, spend a little time with her early, and then he would meet up with her later.

He hadn't been very romantic with her lately, and decided to step it up. Maybe that's what was wrong. Maybe in all the noise of the series, she felt a little neglected?

He'd clear that up real fast.

Yet as he got out of the car, he was surprised to see Mason sitting on the curb.

“Hey, sport. What's going on?” He put the flowers on the grass and squatted beside the little boy.

“Nothing. Waiting for Dad.”

Connor frowned. “Wasn't he supposed to be here this morning?”

“He's coming,” Mason said, a touch of defensiveness in his tone.

“Okay. Maybe he's just running a little late. Want me to ask your mom to call him?”

Mason shook his head in the negative. “He's coming.” The little boy looked down the street, as if compelling a car to appear.

Connor got out of his crouch, and picked up the flowers. He ruffled Mason's hair affectionately before heading up the path to the house.

“Mommy's upstairs with the baby.” Chloe grinned as she answered the door, while Ethan ran to him and threw his arms around his legs.

“Play wif us?” he pleaded, his blue eyes wide.

Connor laughed. “Maybe later. I brought something for your mom.”

“Pretty!” Chloe beamed, and then shouted upstairs. “Mommy! Connor's here.”

Connor didn't wait, but took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the hallway, he saw Tracy bending over the crib, putting Lily down for a nap.

He leaned against the doorway for a moment, just admiring the scene. Tracy wore a simple white denim skirt and top, but she just looked so damned beautiful, her blond hair spilling over her shoulder as she took care of the infant.

Madonna
. The image popped into his head, and even though it was corny, there was something about the image that just seemed…blessed.

That would be her and his child one day, he thought, and then amended the notion. They would all be his, regardless of biology.

“Hey,” he said when she looked up, sensing his presence. “I brought you something.” He indicated the flowers.

“They're beautiful,” she said softly, lifting her eyes to his.

That's when he saw the tears. “Hey, what's the matter? Are roses not your thing?”

He tried to make a joke out of it, but as he smoothed a bead of moisture from her cheek, he saw that she was truly upset.

“I don't think I can see you this weekend,” she said, taking a step back.

“Why, what happened?”

“Jeremy never showed up,” Tracy said, turning to the window. “He was supposed to be here at nine this morning. I called his cell, texted him, even sent him an email. But no response.”

“Well, we can work around that…” he started, but she shook her head.

“It's not just that,” she said, dissolving into tears. “It kills me, what he's doing to Mason. He's been sitting out there all morning, waiting.” Her eyes returned to Connor's. “He's doing it on purpose. He doesn't like it that I'm seeing you, so I'm certain this is another way to try to separate us, ruin our plans. I think there's something wrong with him. He threatened you, said he would expose our relationship to the papers. That was bad enough, but
he's hurting my little boy
.”

A fury ignited inside Connor as he saw Mason kicking at some stones, still seated on the curb, waiting for a father who wasn't going to come.

“That piece of shit,” he said, his fist tightening. He wanted to kill the man, wanted to beat the crap out of him, to cause him a fraction of the pain he was giving his son.

“Connor, I'm sorry, but I don't think things are going to work out between us. I know this is an important time for you, and I don't want to add anything to your plate, but I've been watching Mason sitting there for three hours. Do you know what that does to a mother?”

“I get it. I'm upset, too. But this doesn't have anything to do with us—”

“It has everything to do with us,” Tracy said sadly. “I can stand it when he starts with me, threatens me. But not when he threatens you, and not when he hurts these kids.”

“Where is he?” Connor gritted.

“Probably at the bar. I guess his pool game is more important. That's where he used to go, when he didn't want to be bothered with the kids.” She indicated the place on her phone. “It's a little dive right around the corner.”

“I'll be back,” he said, handing her the flowers, and then walking out the door.

Tracy stared after him in confusion. “Where are you going?”

“I'm taking care of this crap once and for all. Nobody's going to hurt our kids. Not now, not ever.”

Connor spotted him immediately when he entered the bar, which was, as Tracy had described, a real dive.

The place was dark and dirty, a Bud Light sign blinking over a pool table in the center of the room. A jukebox played just like the old days, and the air seemed to smell of stale cigarettes even though New Jersey had outlawed smoking in bars years ago. A chalkboard advertised Coors for a buck, and the bartender wiped the wooden countertop apathetically while a few patrons sat on the stools, waiting for refills.

Jeremy was bent over the pool table as Tracy had predicted. He took a shot, sending a ball into the corner pocket. His opponent stood beside the wall, chalking a cue, his hair held in place by a red bandanna, his bloodshot eyes a patriotic red, white, and blue.

When he stood up, eyeing his next shot, Jeremy's eyes met Connor's in stunned surprise.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Connor's response was to stride across the room and grab the man by his collar.

“Listen to me, you piece of shit. You have four kids waiting on you, waiting for their dad. And here you are, playing a fucking game.”

“This is none of your fucking business,” Jeremy said, trying to break free. But Connor had him cornered, trapped in his athletic grip.

“That's where you are wrong. As far as I'm concerned, those kids matter to both me and Tracy. Your son has been sitting on the curb for three hours, waiting for you to show up. I'm telling you right now this is the last time this happens.”

“Is that right?” Jeremy's back hit the wall as Connor forcefully released him. Rubbing his neck, he glared at the ballplayer. “You'll be out of here within a month. You know it, and I know it.”

“What you don't understand is, I have no intention of going anywhere except walking down the aisle with your ex-wife.” Jeremy's eyes widened with shock, and Connor continued. “That's right, so you can say whatever you want to the newspapers; they would love a story like that: ‘Pro Athlete Falls for a Single Mother with Four Kids.' You'd make my day.”

He stepped closer. “And furthermore, if this is how little you think of your children, that you can step all over them and their feelings, I'll take care of that as well.”

“Meaning?”

Connor looked the man in the eye. “You may think you can get over on Tracy because she's got a big heart and doesn't have the financial resources to fight you. But I do. And when it comes to the kids, you have a choice. Either step up as a father and do the right thing, or I will.”

“Yeah, right.” Jeremy looked around the bar for support, but the other guys looked away, wanting no part of this argument. Even the guy with the bandanna was studying his shoes. “Like you are going to take on four kids.”

“You're damned right I am. I'll adopt them, make them my own, and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Go back to your other family; go to hell for all I care. Do you understand me?”

Jeremy's mouth gaped open, and then he closed it. The guy he had been playing pool with stepped over and took the cue from his hand.

“Sounds like you'd better go take care of your kids,” he said, putting the pool sticks aside.

Jeremy turned to walk out of the bar, shaking his fist in the process. “This isn't the end of this.”

“There's where you're wrong, pal,” Connor said grimly. “And if you threaten Tracy again, you're going to deal with me.”

He turned to take his leave, and the bandanna guy grinned.

“Go, Sonics!”

Connor gave him a thumbs-up.

He wasn't surprised when he returned to Tracy's and saw that Mason was still sitting there on the curb. Jeremy hadn't come for his kids after all.

But Connor hadn't thought he would. Jerks like Jeremy, he mused, just didn't have it in them. He wasn't buying it for a second that he was crazy; he knew too many guys like him. They were too self-involved, wrapped up in their own feelings, their anger and jealousy, to care about anyone else.

Especially a six-year-old boy.

“Hey there,” he said, forcing Mason to look up at him. He hated the expression in his eyes, and wanted to kill Jeremy all over again. “I saw your dad. I don't think he's coming today. But I have a better idea.”

“What?” The eyes lowered to the street once more and Mason's shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Let's go in the house and talk to your mom. I want to make sure it's okay with her.”

The little boy reluctantly got up, giving one last look down the empty road. But he took Connor's hand as they entered the house, ignoring the squeals from Chloe and the grin from Ethan.

“Is everything okay?” Tracy came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, a worried expression on her face.

“Yeah, their dad and I just had a little talk. I think he decided against getting the kids this weekend.” He let that sink in for a moment as Tracy frowned. “But I told Mason I had a better plan, that is, if it's okay with you?”

“What's that?” Her eyes dropped to her little boy.

“Mace, can you keep an eye on everyone for a minute? I need to talk to your mom in private.”

Mason nodded, obviously puzzled, but he sat down with Ethan and began playing trucks. Connor took Tracy's hand and led her outside onto a cement patio covered with flowers.

“Listen, there are some things I should've said to you awhile ago. I have tried to communicate with you how I was feeling, what I was thinking. But it seems I haven't done that great a job.” He tipped her face up to his. “I love you, and I care deeply about these kids. And I made it perfectly clear to your ex that if he doesn't step up, I will.”

Tracy's mouth dropped, but Connor wasn't finished. “Now I know what that counselor said, about me staying away from the kids and all. But I disagree. I need to start building relationships with them, and I can't do that on the sidelines. I want to be in their life, and yours, sharing everything, every scraped knee, every gold star. All of it.”

Tracy's eyes sparkled with tears. “Connor, are you sure?”

He could have fallen into the blue of her eyes. “Yeah, damned sure. It took me awhile to get here, and I'm sorry for that. But when I looked out that window and saw that kid sitting there, waiting…I don't know. Something snapped inside me, something that clarified everything. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, and there's a lot of things you'll have to clue me in on. And I don't expect Jeremy to change. But if you're willing to do the work, so am I.”

He wasn't about to propose to her yet. He had something better planned than to ask her on the patio, with no ring. But he wanted to put her mind at ease, give her a sense of commitment.

Tracy said, throwing her arms around him and giving him a hug filled with all of the emotion inside her, “I love you, Connor Jackson. I always did. Even my marriage came in a distant second, and maybe that's part of the reason it didn't last. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, that I've gotten a second chance.”

“I'm damned glad to hear you say that, because I feel the same way. It does mean, though, we have to be entirely committed. I can't have you backing out on me because your ex pulls some kind of crap, or the kids act out in school. We need to be a team.”

“Deal,” Tracy whispered, burying her face against his chest. But when she lifted her face, he still saw concern. “But what about Jeremy threatening to go to the media about us?”

When Connor pulled back, he grinned down at her.

“You let me worry about that. If the papers thought I was dating a single mom with four kids? I'd be the hero of the year, and he knows it. Now let's go inside and tell these kids we're going to the World Series.”

Tracy and the children sat beside Camelia and her brood, right behind home plate, the following evening.

It was the fifth game of the series, and New Jersey was leading with three wins. The Sonics had an opportunity to close it out.

Her nerves were completely frazzled for Connor as he squatted behind home plate, signaling to Jimmy for the next pitch. Thankfully, all of the work he'd put into developing a relationship with the pitcher was paying off, for instead of shaking off the signs, Jimmy was delivering every one of Connor's pitches.

And it was paying off. They were tied with the Yankees in the top of the ninth inning and were successfully preventing New York from scoring.

“Is that Connor down there?” Chloe shaded her eyes and frowned at the baseball field.

“Yeah, that's him.” Mason looked at her and shook his head. “He's the catcher!”

“Well, why is he all the way down like this?” Chloe asked, demonstrating by sliding off her seat and squatting in the aisle, giving everyone a view of her princess panties.

“That's how he gets the ball,” Mason explained. “The guy throwing it has to get it over the plate for a strike. Never mind, you are too little to understand.”

“Am not!” Chloe got to her feet and twirled.

Tracy and Camelia exchanged an amused glance, while Camelia's little girl came over to play with Chloe.

“Oh, no.” Tracy sat back into her seat and Mason looked at the scoreboard.

“What's the matter?” he asked his mother.

“Jimmy's getting tired,” she said, indicating the second man on base. “He's trying, but he's losing his location. Now they have the tying run at the plate.”

Mason nodded and came to the railing, watching intently. Camelia glanced toward him fondly, and then turned to Tracy.

“Your little boy is really getting into the details. Connor seems so proud of him!”

Tracy grinned. “He is. I can't believe he did all this, arranged for the kids to come to the game.”

“Why not?” Camelia shrugged, completely self-satisfied. “The man is obviously in love. With all of you.”

Tracy's smile deepened. “You won't get an argument out of me.”

Pete called a meeting on the mound as the player on second advanced to third. New York had runners on the corners, and no one out.

“How are you doing?” the manager said to Jimmy, whose eyes flashed in defiance.

“Good. I'm okay. I just went a little low with that pitch, that's all.”

But the manager's eyes shifted to Connor, and he shook his head.

“He's done.”

Jimmy's face flushed crimson, and he glared at the catcher. “You son of a bitch,” he gritted. “I thought we were a team.”

“We are. All of us, a team. I know you want to go all the way, close this out and win on a blaze of glory. But it's not going to happen. You've done a great job today, but you're tired. We can't afford the risk.”

The pitcher turned to Pete, obviously still furious. But he swallowed his pride. “Bring in Chase.”

Pete popped his gum, went to the bullpen, and signaled to his ace. Chase normally was a starting pitcher, but they needed someone strong to close the game out and get the win.

As he walked off the field, Jimmy got a standing ovation from the Sonics fans as they showed their appreciation for his effort. He seemed to grow taller as he took off his cap and acknowledged their praise even as his replacement jogged to the mound.

“Tough call,” Pete said, and Connor nodded.

“I know he's disappointed, but it's the right thing. It's like having kids. Sometimes you have to man up and be the bad guy. Let's go.”

“Look, Mason! They're bringing Chase in!”

Tracy pulled her son into her lap as the excitement became nearly unbearable. She glanced at Darcy, Chase's pretty wife, who seemed glued to the action. Even Chloe and Ethan seemed to sense something important was going on, for they quieted down and munched on popcorn as they watched the ball field.

Chase closed out the inning with six clean pitches, and the crowd went ballistic. The ace walked off the field like this was no big deal, something he did every day, and Tracy saw Darcy collapse in relief.

Then the Sonics were up. Jake got on base, but Brian and Roger struck out. As Gavin walked up to the plate, the stadium fell into a worried silence. The closer for the Yankees threw a slider that dropped out of position at the last moment for a called strike.

Gavin waited.

The next pitch was a changeup, impossible to hit. The umpire called it a second strike, and the fans held a collective breath.

But then Gavin got a fastball.

The overly confident pitcher threw a ninety-five-mile-per-hour ball just inside the plate, but Gavin caught it neatly, getting all of his bat under it, and the ball sailed more than four hundred feet into the bullpen.

And just like that, the Sonics won the World Series.

The crowd exploded as the realization struck. Men embraced their buddies, women cried, children screamed. The New Jersey crowd had been waiting for years for this win, and their joy was beyond belief.

Tracy and Camelia hugged, and then reached down to high-five the kids. But as Tracy was returning to an upright position, Camelia gasped.

“Ohh, Tracy, look!” She gestured to the scoreboard.

Tracy turned to the scoreboard, and there, amid the fireworks and jubilation, she saw a message light up:

Tracy Coleman Carter, will you marry me? Connor Jackson
.

Tracy covered her mouth with her hand in shock as she was mobbed by reporters.

“Is it true you were childhood sweethearts?”

“How long have you been seeing Connor Jackson?”

“Ms. Carter, what will your answer be?” The Channel Six newsman stuck his mike in front of her face.

“Yes,” Tracy said into the camera even as the flat screen before her homed in on Connor. “Oh, my God, yes!”