Heart of the Game Read online

  “Hey, Pop, need any help with the grill?” Duke asked as her dad loaded a platter with ground beef patties.

  He eyed her seriously for a moment as if trying to decide if she was up to the task. His serious gaze served as a mirror to her own. She was used to these moments of scrutiny. He usually decided she was fit for whatever duty she’d volunteered for, especially since she’d grown into adulthood, but part of her still held her breath until he handed down his verdict.

  He finally nodded. “Yeah, actually, grab the tongs and the grill spatula. And get me a beer while you’re at it.”

  She tried not to let him see her grin as she collected his tools and a cold can from the fridge before following him out.

  He’d set the grill up in the backyard far enough away from the pool that he wouldn’t have to worry about the kids running into it or splashing water on any of the food, but he still had a clear sight line to the rest of the party. This was his domain, and she was happy to share it with him.

  They hadn’t had a chance to talk much throughout the afternoon. She’d spent the first part of the day engrossed in Molly, then got lost in the fun of playing with the kids and her brothers. Now she caught a glimpse of Molly and her sister-in-law chatting comfortably by the baby pool while Charlie and her niece poured water over each other’s toes. Her mom had enlisted Joe in setting up the table, and she could hear her fussing over what a helpful young man he was. Now with the sizzle of the first burgers hitting the grill and the charcoal scent of flames licking the fat, all was right with the world. She sat down on a lounge chair and folded her hands behind her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so at peace.

  “What are you doing, Sarah?” her dad asked, quietly.

  She looked up. “Excuse me?”

  “I asked what you’re doing.”

  She looked from him to the chair she was sitting on. Was he disappointed she was lazing around? “I didn’t want to get in your way. Did you need something? Or was this your chair?”

  He shook his head. “It’s a game day. The Cardinals are in Milwaukee only one game out of first place. Why are you here?”

  “I had a few days off.”

  “You had a few days off, or you asked for a few days off?”

  She looked down, noting the contrast between the pale skin of her bare feet and the green of the grass. The yard seemed dull and flat compared to the shade of green at the ballpark. Funny she hadn’t realized that until now. “I took a few days off.”

  “Why?”

  “I haven’t missed a game all season. I had the vacation time coming. My editor suggested it.” Somehow all the logical reasons sounded like little more than the excuses she’d employed for not doing her homework as a teenager, and they met with the same disappointed stare.

  “I’ve never known you to need a day off. Not in college when you had a full load of classes. Not in the minor leagues when you had to drive your own way to all the games. Why now?”

  He was right, of course. She’d worked longer days under rougher conditions without ever wanting even a few hours of sleep. She couldn’t blame him for finding her actions surprising. What didn’t make sense, though, was why he suddenly cared. “Where is this coming from?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you,” he said. “This isn’t like you. You worked too hard to get to where you are. You’re at the top of your game. Why risk everything now?”

  “Dad, I don’t know where this is coming from. You’ve never seemed the least bit interested in my game before. Why does it matter whether I’m in the big leagues or on the bench?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You see what I mean? When did you get so lippy? That’s not like you. I’ve never questioned your dedication before because I’ve never had to. You were always a worker. I never worried about whether or not you’d make it to the show.”

  He’d never said anything like that to her. Ever. She hadn’t seen her arrival in the big leagues as a foregone conclusion, and she wouldn’t have thought he had either. He certainly hadn’t acted as though he expected anything from her. He hardly ever asked her about work. He never mentioned reading her columns. They talked baseball constantly, but he hardly ever acted like she had any more to say on the subject than she had when she was ten. She’d always thought she hadn’t proved herself to him yet. Could it really be he’d not shown an interest in her career because he didn’t have anything of value to add to it? “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “So you never worried about me making it. You thought I could make it all along.” She shrugged and tried to shake off the foreign sensations accompanying the sentiment. “What’s changed? My taking my first day off since I was twenty?”

  “Is that all you’re doing? ’Cause it looks to me like you’re playing house with some woman and her children.”

  She rose to her feet quickly. “That’s not fair. Not to me and not to her.”

  He raised his eyebrows, making it clear she’d blown any casual cover she’d tried to project. “That’s something we agree on. It’s not fair to either of you. You’re one of the youngest writers in the major leagues and the only woman working for your website. Why would you risk all that? For some woman?”

  “I’m not risking anything, and she’s not some random woman,” she said with all the adamancy she could muster, while trying not to think about her recent conversations with her editor, the missed plays, or all the time she spent outside of the press box during games. “Molly is not a risk to my career.”

  “If you both believe that, you’re lying either to yourself or to her. You work one hundred and sixty-two games a year, plus pre- and post-season. If you count spring training, you’re on the road for more than half of the time. You work late nights and weekends. Your job is more than full-time, as is being a partner and a parent. I know you, Sarah. You don’t do anything halfway. You can’t give a hundred percent to two different things.”

  “You did. You have a full-time job and a successful marriage, and you raised three kids.”

  “I’m a roofer. I go to work in the morning, and I clock out at dusk.” He sighed and flipped a couple burgers before continuing. “And still I missed out on things with you and your brothers. I missed school plays and parent-teacher conferences. I didn’t drop you off at college or stay home when you were sick.”

  She heard the regret clearly in his voice and immediately rushed to defend him. “You’re a good dad. You provided for us and taught us about hard work. You did your best.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. You can make excuses for me, but if you let yourself get tied down to a wife and kids, will you be able to make the same excuses for yourself?”

  Her stomach clenched. She wanted to tell him he’d read the situation wrong, but he’d made some legitimate points. She didn’t have a normal job, and she couldn’t do it halfway. Would Molly and the boys get the lesser parts of her? She couldn’t refute his assertion that she couldn’t commit just a part of herself to something she cared about, but she also didn’t like his conclusion that she had to give up on part of herself, either. She had no real answers to offer either of them, so instead she dodged the question. “I’m not tied down to Molly. We’re not even dating. We’re just hanging out.”

  “You’re better than that, Sarah.” He lifted a few burgers off the grill. “A woman with kids isn’t someone you play around with. Either you’re in this thing with her all the way, or you shouldn’t string her along. Don’t let her come to depend on you. It’ll trap you both.”

  “Molly’s a strong woman. She won’t be strung along. She doesn’t need me or anyone else.”

  He smiled faintly. “I think you may be right, but it’s beside the point. A relationship is a silly risk for both of you right now.”

  She sighed. This wasn’t going anywhere, at least not anywhere she wanted to go. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, but you do need to think about the future you worked so hard to
secure.” He pointed at her with his grill tongs for emphasis. “You’re a baseballer, a gamer, a true believer. You’re on the biggest win streak of your life. You know better than anyone that you never mess with a winning streak.”

  *

  Day had long since faded into night by the time they’d left the party, and both boys fell asleep before they were even back on the interstate. They were still in the long stretch of farmland before reaching the suburbs when Duke felt Molly’s fingers brush against hers.

  “You’re quiet,” Molly said. “Did the boys exhaust you today?”

  “Maybe a little, but it’s a good kind of tired. The sun, the pool, the food, you and the boys by my side. I guess you could say I’m sated.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” Molly asked the question softly as she ran her hand up Duke’s arm and twirled her fingers lightly through the hair at the base of her neck. “I saw you talking to your dad before dinner. Looked pretty serious.”

  Normally any question about her relationship with her father would’ve made her defensive, but whether it was her tiredness or the soothing effect of Molly’s touch, the urge to make excuses wasn’t as strong. “My dad is a complicated guy.”

  “He’s tough on you?”

  “Not really. Not in the traditional sense. He rode the boys a lot harder. I always thought he wasn’t as interested in me, or maybe I hadn’t given him enough reason to engage me.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know. Turns out he might’ve left me alone because he thought I was doing okay.”

  “Doing okay at what?”

  “Life, apparently.” She smiled. “Or baseball, which is pretty much the same thing.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “Actually, he kind of did. He sort of implied he was proud of my accomplishments as a female sportswriter at the big league level.”

  “That’s a big deal.”

  “I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear him say that.”

  “Maybe I’m missing something here. Is there more to this winning streak analogy, because you don’t seem very happy.”

  Her chest constricted. Molly was right. She should’ve been happier. Her father had given her more praise today than he ever had. Maybe she shouldn’t have cared so much about his approval. She was a grown woman who’d made so many of her own dreams come true without his praise, not some child eager for her dad’s attention. Their connection went deeper. He’d given her the game she loved, the game she’d built her life on, and even though she made her living surrounded by the brightest minds in the business, he was still smarter than them all when it came to analyzing a player’s makeup. He simply had a brilliant baseball mind. She’d always believed she inherited those traits from him. His passion had become hers, as much as his bloodline or his name.

  “It’s complicated,” Duke admitted.

  “How so?” Molly asked, still playing with her hair. The casual touch was new and welcome, but the intimacy of it disarmed Duke’s natural defenses. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she didn’t want Molly to stop, either.

  “I’ve always thought he was the smartest guy I knew, at least when it came to the things that really mattered. I also thought I had good instincts.” She glanced away from the road long enough to meet Molly’s deep brown eyes, so full of compassion. “But now I know one of us is wrong.”

  “Why?” Molly said. “I think you’re on a winning streak, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. But not because you write for the major leagues.”

  “What else is there?”

  Molly gave her hair a little tug. “So much more. Having a job you love is great, but you also have a larger passion driving you and people who adore you. You’re winning at life in ways much bigger than baseball.”

  “It never really occurred to me there was anything bigger than baseball, or that I could win at it.”

  “I believe you can, though I have no idea what sort of baseball cliché you or your father would attach to any of those things that don’t happen on the field.”

  “Actually, I think the lesson is the same, whether he realizes it or not,” Duke said, this time focusing not on his doubts but on Molly’s belief. Could there really be something more out there for her? Could she have that something more without becoming something less in other areas of her life? Maybe she already did have it all and only needed to learn to recognize it. Despite her fears, or her father’s concerns, she’d kept her job and built a good relationship with Charlie and Joe. Even more importantly, she’d managed to endear herself to Molly enough that this amazing woman trusted her, wanted to spend time with her, believed in her. Maybe she could win at more than baseball.

  “So?” Molly asked. “What’s the great bit of baseball wisdom to come out of all of this?”

  “You never mess with a winning streak.”

  Bottom of the Fifth

  Home Run

  “I’ll get Charlie. You get the bags,” Duke whispered as they stood in the parking lot of Molly’s apartment complex. Joe, at least, had woken up when they got home and kept himself upright long enough to shuffle his feet ahead of them down the hallway. He rested his head on the wall while Molly fished the keys out of her pocket and got them inside, then he practically sleepwalked to his room. She followed him long enough to make sure he kicked off his shoes before falling into bed.

  She hadn’t seen him so tired in a long time. She sent up a silent thanks to the Duke family for exhausting both her sons into deep sleeps. She kissed him on the forehead, then closed the door softly behind her.

  Duke came down the hall with Charlie asleep on her shoulder. The child did everything full force, even crashing. His cheek pressed against Duke’s shoulder and his limbs dangled limply at her sides. Duke had to scoot sideways through the door to angle him toward the bed. Charlie wasn’t a petite three-year-old. He was built more like a miniature linebacker or a sandbag, but Duke cradled his head gently all the way down to the pillow. Before she straightened up, she tucked the blanket under his chin and kissed him lightly on top of his head. “Sleep tight, little lion.”

  Molly’s heart tightened once again at her tenderness, and she stepped back into the hallway to gather herself.

  “Where did Joe go?” Duke asked after she’d shut the door to Charlie’s room.

  “Straight to bed. He’s beat.”

  “Yeah, we had a big day.”

  Molly put her palm on Duke’s shoulder and then slid her fingers down along her collarbone. “It was a great day. Thank you.”

  Duke’s pupils dilated, darkening her eyes. They didn’t seem as playful now as they had throughout the day. Something had changed on the ride home, as though her resolve had shifted. There was a need in those eyes, a desire Molly felt radiate through her. Duke covered her hand with her own. For a second their fingers intertwined, and Molly’s pulse picked up speed. The touch was soft and sensual, the slide of skin against skin making her crave more of the same, but Duke lifted Molly’s hand from her chest and stepped slowly away.

  “I had a wonderful time today, Molly,” she whispered. “I’d like to see you again, outside the ballpark.”

  “I’d like that, too.”

  “I don’t want to pressure you or go too fast.”

  Affection mingled with the heat spreading through her body raised the temperature in the hallway to sauna level.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Duke was being honorable, trying to do the right thing, which made her even harder to resist. They should slow down. The dynamics of their relationship were changing too fast, and they both stood to lose a lot if they made a misstep this early in their relationship, but somehow it seemed harder to focus on those facts in the small hallway with little more than a breath between them. She could literally feel the heat emanating from Duke’s body, or maybe her own.

  “I want to respect your wishes, your boundaries. You have all the control in this situation,” Duke whispered, her voice low and raspy.
“But I need you to know I’m all in. I want to be here for you, with you. I want you to be part of my life, and I’d like a chance to be part of yours on whatever terms you set for me…for us.”

  Molly couldn’t summon any restraint when Duke gave her all the power. So many people had tried to push and threaten her into breaking, and she’d never so much as bent for any of them. Yet, for some reason, being told she had all the control only made her ache to surrender to the uncontrollable.

  “You’re too special to—”

  “Kiss me.” Molly lifted her fingers to Duke’s lips.

  Duke arched her eyebrows.

  “You said I could set the pace.” Molly slid her hands back up Duke’s chest. “Now kiss me.”

  Duke needed no more instruction. She didn’t blush or bumble, and if she had even a hint of nervousness, it didn’t show. She clasped her hands on Molly’s hips, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Then, sliding one hand up the side of her body, Duke burned a trail lightly across the ribs, her shoulder, her neck, and eventually her jaw before she cupped Molly’s cheek in her hand. Guiding her in, holding her a willing captive in a haze of anticipation, Duke kept her on the edge of their combined longing. The spark passing between their bodies connected them like the crackle of electricity before their lips even touched.

  Her body cried out for more, and mercifully Duke answered the unspoken plea by sealing their lips, fusing them together, all tentativeness vanished. Her mouth was exactly what Molly expected, only amplified. Soft and sweet, giving and commanding all at once, the kiss became the sensual embodiment of her personality. Duke threw all her focus, all her passion, and her insatiable energy into kissing Molly. The effect was dizzying. Molly tilted her head back, lips parted in obvious surrender, but instead of taking, Duke met her, eager to share, opening her own mouth, offering herself in kind. Molly had never experienced anything like this all-consuming openness. The boys she’d been with had only taken, where Lauren had only given. With Duke, the give and take existed in one fluid action.