Drive You Wild: A Love Between the Bases Novel (22 page)

The waitress appeared, and Paige signaled for another round of margaritas. “That’s crazy. I was the most awkward kid alive. I think that was the time I rode my bike into a tree, as a matter of fact. I was actually jealous of you two, because you were such good friends. I was lonely all the time when I was growing up. My mom kept moving from one TV market to another. Every time I made a friend, she’d get a new job.
And I went back and forth between my parents, but they were both really busy. I remember riding back to the ranch, thinking, ‘If only I had friends like them.’”

“And look!” Donna spread her hands wide. “Now you do. As long as you keep those marshmallow fluff sandwiches coming.”

Paige grinned. “Done. I bet Zack would love them too.”

The next round of margaritas arrived, and Donna launched into a hilarious story about the first time Zach tasted peanut butter. Sadie told them about the crazy competitive stunts the students at her law school pulled. Paige talked about plans for the fund-raiser for the tutoring program. Sadie offered to locate prizes for the silent auction, and Donna asked if she could emcee the event. As they launched into party brainstorming, Paige sipped her margarita and tried to put her finger on what was missing.

No one was comparing stats. No one was talking about free throw conversions or after-game parties or who signed what contract with which team.

And that’s when the truth behind Trevor’s statement dawned on her, clear as day. For three years she’d poured her heart and soul into Hudson’s career.
Hudson’s
career. And then—she’d started to do the same thing with Trevor! But Trevor was different from Hudson. He was a grown man, not a shy kid, and he didn’t want that from her. Not only that, but he was right, the jerk. She didn’t want to lose herself again. Couldn’t . . .
wouldn’t
. . . lose herself again.

B
Y THE TIME
they wrapped things up, Paige was thoroughly buzzed. It was still only mid-afternoon and she didn’t feel safe to drive, so she walked around town for a while, enjoying the breeze that had kicked up. It rustled the tops of the cottonwoods and made the traffic lights sway back and forth.

When her phone rang, the idea that it might be Trevor sent her scrambling for her little backpack. But a different voice spoke, one she hadn’t heard since she’d left Italy.

“Hey girl.”

“Don’t you ‘Hey girl’ me,” she snapped.

“Chill it, Paige. You don’t need to be jumping all over me.”

She gritted her teeth to keep all possibly inappropriate responses to herself. “What’s up, Hudson? I’m very, very busy, so get on with it.” Busy walking off her buzz, but no need to share details.

“You sound different.” His tone reeked of disappointment.

“Well, yeah, I am different. For one thing, I’m not married to you anymore. Does Nessa know you’re calling me?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows it’s not like that.”

“Like what?” She still had no idea what this was about, but her head was spinning so she propped herself against the outer wall of the old Kilby Fort, her back against the sun-warmed brickwork.

“Nessa . . . she says I need to relax when we’re on TV. I just . . . I don’t feel like myself with all the cameras. I’m used to it during games, but not hanging out at home. It’s easy for her, but I just can’t get comfortable.”

That didn’t surprise her, since she knew how shy Hudson was. During interviews, he’d often wanted her nearby just so he could look at a friendly face. The misery in his voice made her soften. “I’m sorry, Hudson. But what do you want me to do about it? I’m in Texas. And I’m your ex. Your ex in Texas.” She giggled, still feeling those margaritas.

“You making fun of me?”

“No, no—”

“I call you up hoping for a kind word and this is how you act?”

“Oh, good grief, Hudson, I’m not laughing at you. Grow up.” She snapped the words before she could even think.

An offended silence followed. “What’d you say?”

She took a deep breath and said, bluntly, “What I meant was, you’re going to have to work it out for yourself.”

“You
are
different.” He sounded thoroughly disgruntled.

“You’re right, I am. I’ve been tutoring some high school kids here in Kilby, planning a fund-raiser—” But he disconnected the call before she could finish the thought.

Shocked, she stared at her phone for a second before propelling herself away from the wall. He hadn’t even
bothered to listen to her news. All he’d wanted was the familiar comfort she could offer. And when he didn’t get it—wham.

Still fuming, she stalked back to the sidewalk. Why had she been willing to put up with such a one-way relationship? Come to think of it, she knew exactly why. Because she’d craved connection. She’d loved the feeling of being on a team with someone. That’s why she’d been willing to ditch everything and devote her life to Hudson.

Was that longing such a bad thing? People needed connections. Even a frozen iceberg like Trevor needed other people. If he didn’t, then she didn’t want him.

Sure, she might be a little tipsy, but all this made perfect, crystal clear sense to her. If she could tell off Hudson, why not Trevor too?

She stopped at an intersection and put her phone back to her ear. For an epic moment her sensible side struggled with her tipsy side.
Bad idea. Don’t call Trevor
.
Don’t do it.

It lost.

As soon as Trevor picked up, with his usual, “Stark here,” she launched into her speech. “Only some things are good frozen, Trevor. Margaritas for one. Ice cream for another. Maybe peas. Fine, peas are a good frozen thing to have around. Ice packs in general.”

Oh sweet Lord, she was even more toasted than she’d realized. Why was she talking about ice packs?
Get back to the main topic.

“
People
should not be frozen, Trevor. At least not living people. Maybe dead ones, but that’s—I don’t know, I don’t even want to go there.”

What the heck
. . . now she was talking about frozen dead people? She rubbed her forehead, hoping to force some oxygen into her brain.

“Paige?”

“Yes, it’s Paige, and I’m just calling to tell you that if you’re going to be an icicle, you can’t be in my life. I should say,
back
in my life, since I don’t think you’re in it right now.”

“I’m not?”

She detected an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, which infuriated her. “No, you’re not! You can stay alone in your ice cave forever as far as I care.”

For a moment, he was quiet. Then, “I don’t think I’m okay with that.”

“What . . . what do you mean?”

“Ice caves aren’t very comfortable. Especially when they don’t have you.”

She yanked the phone from her ear and glared at it. A woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk shot her a nervous look. “You’re confusing me, Trevor,” she said, the phone at her ear again. “Last time I saw you, you gave me the ice face. I don’t like the ice face.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” The heat in his voice made the soles of her feet tingle. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m . . . uh . . . at the corner of Pine and Courthouse Way. Waiting for the light to change. Where are you?”

“I’m at the stadium in Sacramento. Game’s going to start soon. I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.” Oh crap. Just when she had everything figured out, he had to throw a grenade into the mix.

“Really? That’s funny, because I haven’t been thinking about you at all.
At all,
you hear me?”

“I’m going to take that as a personal challenge.” His voice reverberated through every cell of her body. “I have to tell you something, sweetheart. I can’t stop thinking about you or wanting you. I tried, because I know it’s best. But every time I close my eyes I see that amazing smile of yours, or your long legs wrap
ping around my hips. The way your whole body arches when you come.”

“Stop that,” she said weakly. Slick from her sweat, the phone slipped in her hand.

“I can’t. I keep picturing you naked against that saddle. You need to wear more leather.”

“I’m not wearing any leather for you.” The light changed, and the woman hurried away from her.

“Even if I begged? If I told you what it did to me? How hard I am right now just thinking about your nipples all hard and lickable? When you’re turned-on, they’re the color of cognac. Or grenadine. I could get drunk sucking them. Sucking all of you.”

“Trevor!
” She nearly ran into a lamppost as she reached the opposite side of the street. “I’m hanging up now. You’re giving me whiplash, and I’m too buzzed for whiplash.”

“Don’t hang up yet. Not until you take back what you said before.”

“What?”

“The part about you not being in my life. You’re in my life, Paige Taylor. I’m not letting you out. I just have to figure some things out.”

Thrills chased up and down her spine, a reaction that infuriated her. “It’s not fair! You can’t do this to me. You’re so hot and cold. In and out. Up and down.”

“Just hot, Paige. Getting hotter every time. Bear with me, okay? Promise you’ll bear with me. I’ll be back in three days and I want to see you. I want to tell you some things you don’t know. Tell you how I feel.”

Before he could confuse her any more, she stuffed the phone in her bag as if it were a burning coal. As if the hot feelings he’d conjured could be banished along with her phone. Her body throbbed all the way to her core.

Bear with me.

She didn’t know which was more confusing, the iceberg Trevor or the volcano version. She hated him. No, she
should
hate him. Would. Did. Didn’t.
Gah!

P
aige was still reeling from that conversation—not to mention the one with Hudson—when she got back to the ranch and received another shock.

Her mother sat in Crush’s living room, ivory linen-clad legs crossed, a glass of white wine cupped in one hand. Crush stood behind the bar as if it was a fortress and he was manning the defenses.

Deal with Jenna Jarvey after all those margaritas?
This
was going to be interesting.

“Mom. What are you doing here?” Paige bent to kiss her mother on her cheek—or rather, near her cheek, since in the past she’d ended up with smears of foundation on her lips.

“I came because, clearly, your father is not performing his parental duties.” Jenna stood to give Paige a hard hug. Over her mom’s shoulder, Paige aimed wide eyes at her father.
What’s going on?

He responded by sticking his finger in his mouth and pretending to pull the trigger.

“Any weight loss? Weight gain? Both can be signs of postdivorce trauma.” Jenna inspected her, head to toe. Paige wondered if she had a scale in her lizard-skin briefcase.

“Weight’s holding steady, thanks for your concern.”

“Weight’s just one symptom. How about sleep? Are you sleeping okay?”

“Mom, I’m handling it. Crush has been great. You didn’t need to airlift in here.”

“I smell alcohol. Have you been drinking? Is the situation driving you to drink? I heard some nasty rumors
from our sports intern at the station. What’s this about you and some minor league baseball player?”

Her mother’s sharp blue eyes, the same color as her own, scanned her face. Paige resembled Jenna in some respects—brown hair, blue eyes, general face shape. But her build came from Crush; she towered over her petite mother. Jenna had a controlled quality that Paige would never achieve. It showed in the way she did her makeup, her precision bob, the tiny diamonds at her earlobes. And when Jenna interrogated her, she always folded like a house of cards. “Do you mean Trevor? What about him?”

Crush intervened before her mother could pounce. “If it’s any help, he’s the Friars top prospect. Helluva slugger. Reminds me of a cross between McGwire and Bonds.”

Jenna shredded him with a quick look. “When we divorced, you got baseball. Let’s keep it that way. Minor league, major league, that’s not the point. Rebounds are not healthy, Paige. It’s too soon. You need to give yourself time to recover from the pain of your divorce.”

Paige pulled away from her mother and crossed to the bar. She tapped on the counter. “Hey bartender. You got anything back there for me? Any specialty cocktails for a recovering divorcée?”

Crush tilted his head, a grin touching his lips. “Looks like you’re way ahead on that one.” He lowered his voice. “Did you know she was coming?”

“No, those margaritas were just a coincidence. Don’t worry, I walked most of it off before I drove home.”

He nodded and poured her a root beer. “Consolation prize of champions.”

Paige took a long sip before turning back to her mother, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t need a lecture on who I see and when, Mom. Crush already tried that. Right, Dad?”

“Right. It was a very humbling moment in parenting history.”

Jenna tap-tapped toward them, high heels clicking on the slate tiles. “Well, I did a little research on this one, and I really think you must have lost your mind, Paige. I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly. He has a
police record
. A record! My daughter with a criminal. I’m shocked that you would let this happen, Crush.”

“Excuse me?” Paige waved her glass of root beer at her mother. “Crush doesn’t have a say in it. Neither do you.”

“Someone has to! How many divorces do you want to fit in before you turn twenty-five?”

Paige sucked in a breath. Growing up, she’d hated disappointing her mother more than anything. But it seemed to happen no matter what she did.

“Jenna,” Crush said softly. “Take it easy.”

“You’re going to take her side, then?” her mother said. “We’re right back to the old days, when Paige would come here and run wild. No rules, no discipline, no common sense.”

Paige was starting to think that margaritas weren’t nearly enough for this kind of conversation. She should have ordered bourbon.

“Do you know that Stark isn’t even his real last name? It’s Leonov. What does that tell you?”

“Jenna, you’re out of line,” said Crush sharply. “Paige can make her own choices. What exactly do you suggest we do?”

“Fire her.”

“
Excuse
me?”

“Stop giving her work with the Catfish. Send her away from here. If she leaves Kilby, she won’t even remember that guy.”

She turned to Paige, who gaped at her.
Fire her? Send
her away?
She wasn’t thirteen anymore. But those margaritas had slowed her reaction time, and she couldn’t find her voice.

“I got you a ticket to Philadelphia. Come home with me. If you must date someone, we’ll find you a nice Main Line lawyer or doctor. I know several who would be perfect choices. But I’d really rather you focused on finishing your degree.” Jenna adjusted her tailored fawn jacket over her hips, as if everything was settled. “You’re not making good decisions right now. It’s understandable, after such a public humiliation. Anyone would lose her head. And from the sounds of it, this Trevor person is quite attractive. It all makes perfect sense and I should have seen it coming. But enough is enough. I know Crush feels the same, that this ballplayer is very wrong for you.”

They both looked at Crush, who murmured, “Not my first choice.”

Paige glared at him
. Thanks a lot, Dad.

“You’ve never been a rebellious child, Hudson aside.” Jenna put a hand on Paige’s forearm, but Paige shook it off. “You’ve always wanted to make your parents happy and proud. Please think about what you’re doing. Take a break from Kilby. Come back to Philly with me.” Jenna put all the charisma and power of her on air persona into that speech. She made it sound reasonable and inevitable.

Before the divorce, it would have been. And for a second, it was.

But Paige had margaritas and a smokin’ hot phone conversation with Trevor under her belt. She should hate him after the way he’d treated her in his hotel room.

But that’s not what she felt, not at all.

Bear with me,
he’d said.
I’m not letting you go
.
I just have to figure out some things.