Curveball (20 page)

Rebecca Reed Custis linked arms with Keely. She beamed with southern pride. “It’s time to return Colonel William Lowell to his rightful home.”

Keely’s hand shook as she reached for a corner of the black silk cloth. She wished she had a magic wand. One wave, and the colonel would replace the terrier.

She closed her eyes to shut out the expressions of disappointment once the dog was revealed.

One tug, and she’d freed the cloth.

Silence. Pure and utter silence. Followed by an upbeat buzz of appreciation. The guests liked the dog? Keely peered through veiled eyelids. Blinked. Stared at the painting. Nearly fainted. The colonel’s portrait hung on the mantel.

“Such a handsome man, our William, pictured astride his warhorse Ranger.” Rebecca was the first to speak. “His painting’s come home.”

Who brought the painting home?

Amid applause and genuine smiles, Keely lo
cated Psycho on the edge of the crowd. He raised a brow, his smile slow, knowing. The man had saved her from the most humiliating moment of her life.

Tears came quickly to her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. He’d known she’d lied. Yet he’d saved her butt.

She cut through the crowd until she was standing before him.

He took her hand, led her to the family room. Then closed the door on his guests. No one would dare disturb them.

Among the mountains of housewarming gifts, she found her way to the black leather couch and sat on one end. She swiped at tears that continued to fall.

Psycho located a box of tissues and handed it to her. “You impressed them, Keely Douglas-Lowell.”

“I’m not a Lowell,” she sniffed.

“You know it and I know it. Becky never has to know the truth.” He jammed his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “There’s little historical documentation on William’s brother, Marshal. The man never married. Somewhere in his deep dark past, he probably bedded a tavern wench and fathered illegitimate children. We’ll assume he did.”

She looked up at him. “You’d protect me?”

“I have your back.”

“Why?”

A simple question, yet the answer would complicate his life. In a very good way. “I didn’t want
you to feel less of a person because you couldn’t produce the painting.”

“Where did you find the colonel?” she asked.

“In Williamsburg. His portrait was delivered yesterday. Happy birthday, Keely.”

Her throat worked. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Nudity, boas, the foam finger come to mind.”

She gave him a weak smile.

He continued. “You saved my ass in April when the Daughters marched on the house and demanded it be restored. I saved your butt today with the painting. We’ve come full circle.”

She licked her lips. “You’ve gained everyone’s respect and approval.”

He shrugged off his sport coat. Rolled his shoulders. “I don’t care what people think of me, Keely.”

She stared at him, confused. “Yet you allowed the restoration, the open house, bought the oil painting.”

He ran his hand down his face, rubbed the back of his neck. “All for you.”

“Me?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“You.” He looked her square in the eye. “The skinny blonde with the torn jeans, cheap sunglasses, and mismatched flip-flops. You with the crooked part in your hair and incredibly deep blue eyes. You, who steal the bed covers and the last whole wheat bagel. You, who fit in at Wally’s Bar as well as with the Daughters. No woman
wears a boa like you do. You look damn fine naked.”

Her eyes had welled up again and her lips had parted.

“The dogs are going to miss you, Keely.” He scratched his jaw. “And so will I.”

“You could ask me to stay.”

He’d always asked women to go. He’d held the door wide, showed them the exit. The pain in his chest hurt like a son of a bitch, and it wasn’t from his fractured ribs. He desperately wanted her to stay, but was equally worried she’d refuse him.

He’d never had a reason to commit. Until now. “Stay, and be naked with me for the rest of our lives.”

“Lives, as in longer than tomorrow?”

He saw her hope, her need, and felt in that instant he could conform just a little for her. There were, however, a few things he couldn’t get around. “I don’t do big weddings.”

“Courthouse works for me.”

“No more suits.”

“No nudity before the justice of the peace.”

“Small reception.”

“The Bat Pack’s fine.”

His gaze warmed. “I can do a honeymoon.”

“No privacy like your own home.”

“I do love you, Keely Douglas-Lowell.”

“Keely Douglas-
McMillan.
” She was off the couch and in his arms in a heartbeat.

He closed his eyes, breathed in her hair, held
her so tightly she gasped for air. He kissed her then, and she kissed him back. A full-body press that included tongues and touching and a whole lot of moaning.

Their clothes soon hit the floor. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “You looked so handsome today.”

“Your cashmere made me stiff.”

On the couch, in the chair, then down on the oriental carpet, Psycho McMillan promised Keely Douglas a future of love and great sex. When night shadows crept around them, Keely rose and peeked out the door. The Colonial was empty of all guests.

“It’s you and me now.” Psycho came to stand behind her.

“You, me, and the colonel,” Keely corrected.

Outside, the Newfoundlands howled. “You, me, the colonel, and the dogs,” Psycho added.

She turned, stroked his
Stands on Command
tattoo. “Someday, some little Psychos.”

“If you can do crazy.”

“I’d do crazy for you.”

Her commitment brought peace and calmness to his life.

The Rogues had won the World Series.

And he’d won Keely Douglas.

He’d scored big on both counts.

He planned to savor his wins.

Debbie and Ted Roome, you are my Naples, Florida family.

Stella Brown, the perfect neighbor. I appreciate you proofreading my manuscripts.

Ashley Stevenson, we have Scrappy and Angel in common. And a love of great books. Life is good.

Marion, Paul R., Judy, Kristin, Grace, Paul, Max, and Mary, my Fargo, North Dakota family.

Always, I’m grateful to my editor, Alicia Condon, for her guidance and enthusiasm. You make me a better writer.

“No fan of the genre should miss Angell’s surefire romance, and all readers who enjoy light fare will like this amusing and sexy tale and its terrific likeable characters.”

—
Booklist

“Angell’s novel brings readers ‘home’ with a tale of love and self-discovery. Angell’s characters are easy to relate to because each has his or her own unique personality…With fun, strong characters and multiple plots, this novel is sure to take readers on a roller coaster of emotions and leave them satisfied at the end.”

—RT BOOKreviews

“Sassy, fun and sexy,
Squeeze Play,
is a treat wire-to-wire…Outstanding and vividly told,
Squeeze Play
will find its way into your heart. I had a ball reading [it], and you will too.
Squeeze Play
hits a grand slam!”

—
Romance Reviews Today

“Fun, sexy and utterly charming…fresh and unique.”

—Romance Reader at Heart

“Humorous, romantic, and just lots of fun to read,
Crazy for You
features a stellar cast, an intriguing plot…and lots of romance…Don’t let this story pass you by.”

—A Romance Review

“In
Crazy for You,
Kate Angell writes a charming and humorous romantic romp that readers will certainly delight in reading.”

—
Romance Reviews Today

“Angell does a wonderful job.”

—
RT BOOKreviews

SQUEEZE PLAY
CRAZY FOR YOU
DRIVE ME CRAZY
CALDER’S ROSE

LOVE SPELL
^®

June 2007

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016

Copyright © 2007 by Roberta Brown

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E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0176-8

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.