No One Like You (28 page)

He bit her earlobe, and her whole body shivered. “Forethought. I knew there was a reason I hired you.”

“You trusted Atlas, and he liked me,” she reminded him. “That’s how I got the job.”

“Either way, having you with us is a smart move.”

“Think so?”

“Know so.”

Beth took in the dogs, lying around her. “We need to get them home. Eat, bath, bed.”

“Sex.” Ry pushed to his feet, pulled her up beside him. He then picked up Oscar, and she lifted Nathan. They set the dachsies in the back of the Range Rover. Rue came slowly. Ry gave her a boost. Atlas had yet to leave the towels.

“I’m not carrying you, big guy,” Ry called to him.

Atlas lifted his head, dropped it back down.

“Is he that tired?” Beth asked, concerned.

Rylan stood with his hands on hips. “Lazy. He sees us carrying Oscar and Nathan and wants to be carried, too.”

“There’s a difference in size.”

“He doesn’t see it.”

“Treat, Atlas,” she called to him. She’d learn to pack snacks, in case he got stubborn. She wasn’t above a bribe. She opened the passenger door and found the canister of sweet potato biscuits.

Atlas was beside her before she could lift the lid. She gave him two, only to have him stick his nose in the canister and inhale two more. He’d had plenty. She gave Rue and the dachsies one treat each.

“Pack it in, Atlas.” Ry patted the back deck, encouraging him to jump. On his own.

The Dane made a feeble attempt, which forced Rylan to lift him the rest of the way. Ry scrubbed his knuckles over the big dog’s head. “Spoiled.”

Atlas gave him a toothy grin.

Beth secured the towels and dog bowls. Stored them on the floor beneath her feet. They were soon headed home. She leaned back against the seat. Glanced at Rylan. “One or the other. Day or night?”

His look gave her goose bumps. “Night.”

“Massage chair or bed?”

“Both have been good to me.”

“Lover or best friend?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“I want my best friend to be my lover,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “I want companionship and caring with my hot sex.”

She liked his answer. “Live-in roommate or marriage?” The question was important to her.

“Atlas plans to be my best man someday. It’ll be a walk down the aisle when the time comes.” They’d reached the cottage. He parked and turned the game around with a question for her. “Big wedding or small?” he wondered.

How to answer without sounding sorry for herself. She inhaled. “I have no one to invite, Rylan.”

He exhaled, told her, “My relatives are numerous. We’re all tight. They’d fill a church. Standing room only.”

“How fortunate for you.”

“I do consider myself lucky.”

They climbed from the SUV, unloaded the dogs. Baths were easier than on the evening when Atlas had popped her in the cheek. They wanted to eat and sleep. Being cooperative got them to their goal. They were scrubbed down and toweled dry in under an hour.

Beth warmed up their dinner, and they ate. There were yawns and their eyelids drooped. Fresh air and exercise had tired them out. They would sleep well tonight.

She served Rylan a Caesar salad and green iced tea at the counter. She snapped her fingers, remembering the team dinner reservation. “Pitmaster, seven p.m. tomorrow. Private dining room seats twelve, you’ll be fine with nine. Zoo asked if he could bring a date, I told him no. It was guy time.”

“What will you be doing while I’m eating ribs?”

“Party planning with Shaye and Jill. They’re coming by the cottage to discuss the boardwalk luncheon and Sophie’s baby shower. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Did you clear it with Atlas?”

“I’ll convince him with a batch of peanut butter bark. He likes the crunch.”

Ry stared at her for a long moment.

She thought she might have salad on her mouth and dabbed her napkin to her lips. Nothing.

His smile came slowly. “You look happy. Confident.”

That got her attention. “Confident. How so?”

He set down his fork, rested his elbows on the edge of the island. “You looked as if you were running for your life when I first interviewed you. As if your past was gaining and you couldn’t outrun it.”

Her throat felt dry, and she took a sip of her tea. “You were so serious. So perceptive. You saw through me.”

“We all have something in our lives that needs to be fixed. I’ve learned to recline and unwind. A Band-Aid covers a cut or a scratch but not pain. Someone hurt you. I saw it in your eyes.”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it.”

He reached across the island, took her hand in his. “I’m here whenever you are.”

“I’ll find you when the time’s right.”

“Atlas will pressure you to tell him first. Don’t.”

“Deal.” She finished off her salad.

He drank the last of his iced tea.

They cleaned up together. It was early, but they both yawned. He turned off the first floor lights, and they took the stairs to his bedroom. They showered together, soaping each other to orgasm beneath the pulsing spray. Clean and spent, they crawled into bed. It was a night of pillow talk and light kisses. And a solid eight hours of sleep.

T
he next week settled into a routine. Rylan went to the stadium and Beth took care of his dogs and household and became involved in party planning. He liked seeing her so excited. She always took care of him first, overseeing his commitments and obligations. She visited his grandfather often. They played gin and, on occasion, she beat Frank at his favorite card game. She banked the quarters she won in a capped mason jar. The jar was half full.

Rylan heard through his granddad that Beth’s party skills had reached ears at the retirement village. He had Shaye to thank for that. She’d spread the word.

Beth had been invited to their Social Committee Meeting. She’d willingly attended. The group was busy planning Grace Mayberry’s ninety-seventh birthday bash. Grace wanted a blowout. Lots of glitz, she’d told them. The committee had more ideas than money. Their budget didn’t stretch far.

Beth suggested the women should get together and bake the cake. A homemade dessert always tasted better than store bought. Cora Salvo offered to purchase balloons at Budget Buy, but the eighty-year-old residents didn’t have the huff and puff to blow them up. They would rent an electric air pump. The store also sold sparklers, rhinestone tiaras, and retired disco balls. There’d be lots of glow and glitter.

His sister Shaye and sister-in-law Jillian kept regular hours at the cottage. They listened to Beth’s ideas. Took notes. The lady was creative, imaginative, and could throw a party.

Halo and Landon came and went like a revolving door. They visited way too often. Rylan saw them at the stadium during the day. Then they’d land on his doorstep two hours later; settle in for the evening. They sat on his new turquoise sofa and watched TV. Beth made them popcorn. Why couldn’t they go to the movies? Ry wondered. When had they last dated? Women flocked to spring training. The players had their pick. Instead, both men flirted outrageously with Beth. She was more embarrassed than flattered. Her face had gone from bruised to a permanent blush.

Atlas didn’t mind their company, as long as the men stayed off his couch. He stuck his face in Landon’s popcorn bowl and ate his fair share. No butter, unsalted. Landon got him back, going to the refrigerator and eating a handful of his cheese star treats. Atlas growled at him.

Rylan was drilled with twenty questions every time he entered the locker room. How was Beth? What were her plans for the day? He stopped answering them. He valued his privacy. The men were intrusive.

He stood before his locker. Breathing deep. Getting in the zone. The Rogues first exhibition game was against the St. Louis Colonels. He was ready, and as far as he could tell, so were his teammates. They were as focused as they were cocky. That would play to their advantage.

“Ry-man.” Halo spoke to him from his neighboring locker. “When are you taking us to dinner again? Good times, bro.”

Good?
Ry swallowed the urge to question the man’s sanity. Boozing and rowdy described their recent night out. They’d pigged out on barbecue. Drunk the bar dry. Rylan had called for cabs to take the men to Driftwood Inn. They’d been in no condition to drive, despite Halo’s argument he could walk a straight line—which he could not.

The taxis had arrived within twenty minutes, but not before his teammates had had a chance to show off their tattoos. Rylan saw more than he’d ever wanted to see. Their tats reflected their personalities.

Halo’s in particular stood out. He’d been
supersized
. Zoo had warned him it could happen at any time. It had. His buddies had paid him back for their haircuts. He’d wanted
Caution: Hard and Hot
inked near his left hip. Small, yet readable. Zoo had demanded big. Put on the spot, Halo ended up with a street-sign size tat on his abdomen. It was visible from a block away. He was still proud of it, saying that more people could see it from a greater distance.

Landon had gone with a sword with the word
Invincible
on the blade.

Zoo went with an image of a Hellhound. A mythical black dog with red eyes. Tenacious and vicious. A testimony to his baseball skills.

First baseman Jake Packer chose
Who’s on First?
Not very original, but appropriate.

The remaining five starters had yet to commit to a tattoo. They had a few weeks to finalize their decision. Ry had no plans to get inked. Halo continued to toss out suggestions. A Flying Monkey. Tasmanian devil. Batman. Captain Marvel. Elmer Fudd. Ry wasn’t going there.

Rylan raised the future dinner beyond the right fielder’s reach. “I’ll extend a second invitation should we win twenty-five of thirty exhibition games.” Challenge issued. Chances were good he wouldn’t be buying another meal. However, if it happened, the Rogues would have survived one hell of a spring training.

Halo whistled beneath his breath. “You’re asking a lot, dude.”

“I don’t ask anything we can’t deliver.” Ry added incentive. “Kick preseason ass, and I’ll pay the owner to close Pitmaster to all but the team.”

Halo grinned then. “You think you’re safe, don’t you? That we won’t man up and bring it home.”

“Prove me wrong.”

They headed for the home dugout. Took the field, warmed up. At 1:05 a local vocalist sang the national anthem. The introduction of players followed. The stadium rocked. The Rogues had incredible fans. Win or lose, they were supportive. The crowd never left games early, not even when the team was significantly behind. They sat, waited, cheered even louder. They believed Richmond could rally in the ninth. It had been known to happen.

Thousands of Richmond fans had followed the team south. They took up a huge section of the stadium. Local residents filled the remaining seats. The umpire gave the signal to start the game, and the Rogues took to the field.

“I’m already tasting barbecue ribs,” Halo said as he jogged beside Rylan toward the outfield.

They parted at the dirt baseline between first and second. Halo went right; Rylan to center. Ry glanced up, scouted the upper deck, spotting his grandfather and Beth. She jacked his heartbeat. His granddad nodded and Beth smiled. Ry got down to business.

The Colonels were the Rogues’ biggest rivals. Rylan knew most of their seasoned players. Their roster hadn’t changed much since he’d been traded two years earlier. The men were solid, strategic, and serious. A St. Louis batter would wait for the perfect pitch, whereas the Rogues took chances. Young hitters were impatiently aggressive. Some of their gambles panned out, others came up short.

Top of the first, and St. Louis loaded the bases. They gained two runs before Richmond closed out the half inning.

The Rogues took their bat. Halo Todd led off. He stood in the on-deck circle and took several practice swings then approached home plate. All strut and purpose.

There was a man tasting barbecue, Rylan mused as Halo slammed the ball down the left field line for a double.

Landon batted second. He hit a fly ball to center for the first out. Halo advanced to third. Ry came next. His hometown stood behind him. He wanted to make a good showing. He picked a point in center field and mentally aimed for the stands.

Ball one was thrown high and buzzed his chin. Ry didn’t flinch. Didn’t show emotion. He held his stance. Set his jaw.

“What the fuck?” Zoo called from the dugout.

“Back off,” came from Will Ridgeway.

His teammates moved to the railing.

Ry was aware that a fight in the first inning would make national news. Something to be avoided. He stared hard at the pitcher until the man blinked and went into his wind up. He was one of the only pitchers in the league to throw three changeups in a row. He threw a power sinker for strike one. Rylan predicted his next pitch and smoked the ball to center. The ball dropped short of the fence, yet was out of reach of the center fielder. Halo made it home. Ry landed on third.

Zoo next laid a high breaking ball over the third baseman’s head. He sprinted to first. The left fielder scooped the ball. His throw to home was off the mark, and Ry slid in safe. The score was now tied.

A team was only as strong as the middle of its batting order. The Rogues had power.

“Nut up,” Halo said to Jake Packer when the first baseman took his bat.

The Rogues had three straight hits, adding one run, before two additional outs sent them back on defense.

The afternoon progressed. The innings brought errors, miscues, and two minor infield collisions. The Colonels suffered both injuries.

Seventh inning stretch, and the Rogues started taking beer bets as to who would nail the first home run. Halo placed a six-pack on himself. Zoo and Landon favored Rylan. They wagered a case of Coors.

A flock of big, black crows collected on the power lines during the top of the eighth. It started to look like a scene from the Alfred Hitchcock movie
The Birds
. Their cawing grew louder. One crow swooped down near Halo. Halo waved his arm, avoided the dive.

“What’s going on over there?” Rylan called to him between batters. All the action was taking place on the infield. “You have birdseed in your pockets?”

Halo admitted to, “Sunflower seeds. Shit, I dropped a few.”

“How many is a few?”

“Half a pack, give or take.”

“Grind the ones you’ve dropped into the ground,” Ry told him. Crows could be aggressive. Birds fighting over food would not be pretty.

“They’re going to peck my eyes out.” Halo covered his face when several dive-bombed him all at once.

“You’re wearing sunglasses, dumbass.” Ry had little sympathy for the man.

The first base umpire noticed the flock. The crows were ominous. The situation bizarre. Ry had never seen anything like it. What he hated most was the bird poop. They’d soon have a mess if the crows weren’t moved.

The ump came to a decision and called time-out. The Rogues headed to their dugout. A few birds trailed after Halo. The ground crew came out and scattered the crows. It took twenty minutes. Halo left the remainder of his sunflower seeds in the dugout when he returned to the field.

The game continued. Rylan made a major save at the top of the ninth. The Colonels’ shortstop pounded the ball to center. Ry tracked it and ran full-out to reach it. He completed the backhanded catch at the warning track. He held up his glove, gave an air punch.

Next batter, and Zoo lost a high fly ball to the sun in left field. He scrambled to retrieve it. The St. Louis player ran the bases like an Olympic sprinter. He slid home.

Angry with himself, Zoo kicked dirt along the baseline.

The score was tied when the Rogues returned to the plate. It was once again the top of the order. Excitement pressured the Rogues to score. The stadium was jumping. Fans wanted a home run and would settle for nothing less.

Halo grunted when he smacked a fastball right into the glove of the shortstop. Zoo called him
bird brain
.

Landon went down on strikes.

Rylan took a slow walk to home plate. There seemed to be an atmospheric shift when he dug in at the plate, and the crowd held its collective breath.

He went to full count, three balls and two strikes, before a curveball hung over the plate long enough for him to connect. It was a beauty. He found the sweet spot and crushed the ball into the upper deck in center. Long and gone. He rounded the bases, crossed home. His teammates emptied the dugout, congratulating him. Not quite the World Series, but an exhibition win, nonetheless. A great way to start preseason.

Halo pointed to the jumbotron, just as a picture of his granddad appeared. Frank was standing, his glove extended as he caught the home run ball. Beside Frank, frozen in the moment, Beth reached out, too. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. Her curls sprang from all sides of her baseball cap. She was Frank’s backup had he missed or dropped the ball.

Rylan would never forget that moment.

He ducked into the dugout. Drank a plastic glass of Gatorade. Fan applause drew him out for a second wave to the crowd. They were supportive. They would return to the park tomorrow when the Rogues faced the Atlanta Braves.

Local press covered the game. Rylan answered his fair share of questions. Halo and Landon replied to a few directed to Ry, as well. The guys liked being interviewed. They felt their responses should be chiseled in stone.

Family and close friends met Ry at the locker room exit. They approached him with hugs and fancy fist bumps. A few fans snuck by the guards. They requested autographs and a photo. Rylan was obliging.

Through it all, he scanned the crowd for Beth. He found her standing on the sidelines. She looked out of her element. Not certain what to do.

She wore her baseball cap backward. She looked good in her Rogues T-shirt and shorts. Her red Keds. Sunburn slanted off her nose. Her smile was shy. Her hands were clasped before her. He excused himself. Walked toward her.

Beth’s heart rate ramped up. Rylan was coming her way. His hair was damp from his after-game shower. He looked sexy and composed in his black polo and khakis. His leather sandals. This was a different man from the player she’d seen on the field a short time ago.

His attitude and uniform had turned him into a warrior. His game face was fierce and intense. His body solid and strong. He’d looked as good jogging toward center field as he did returning to the dugout. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him.

He shook hands with dozens of people before he reached her.

The world around her quieted when they met. It became just the two of them.

Her voice sounded breathy when she said, “Nice hit. Good game.”

He tipped up her chin with his finger, leaned in, and kissed her full on the mouth. A claiming kiss that told anyone around them that they were a couple. She liked being part of him.

Halo had the balls to interrupt them. He wore his Cates T-shirt. He still thought he was family. He tapped Rylan on the shoulder. “Pulled pork. Maple syrup baked beans.” He moved on.