All Your Loving (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) (14 page)

"It is, and I think I was as shocked when I heard him say it as you are now. Do you feel the same way about him?"

"I honestly don't know how I feel about him. I don't know if Matt mentioned to you that I'm not exactly a baseball fan."

"He did. He told us that you're Jack Michaels' daughter, and we know that your father divorced your mother."

"He didn't just divorce her; he cheated on her."

"I'm sorry. I'd kill Gary if he did that to me."

"Do you worry about it?" Julie asked, genuinely curious. "There are a lot of women hanging around the ballpark."

"Sure there are," Connie said easily. "But I trust Gary. We've been together for ten years. I knew him when he was a nobody. We've grown up together."

"That probably helps," she said, sipping her wine. "You started out at the same place." Although, that hadn't helped her parents. They hadn't just grown up together; they'd also grown apart.

"It's harder for the guys who are already rich and famous to know who's being real with them," Connie said. "I know Matt has had a hard time with that."

"I'm not sure I'd call being surrounded by supermodels a hard time," she said dryly.

Connie grinned. "I like you, Julie. And I'm starting to see why Matt likes you, too. You're not overly impressed with his celebrity. That's a change for him."

"He takes it as a challenge. He's determined to make me change my mind about baseball players."

"That sounds like it could be fun. There's nothing like a man determined to show you a good time. I hope you make him work for it."

Julie smiled. "And now I'm beginning to see why Matt likes you so much. Tell me how you and Gary met."

"I was his chemistry tutor in college. Eventually, I started tutoring him in other things—like how to treat a woman. He was a very good student. He got an A in chemistry and an A with me. We started going out, and we were pretty much inseparable after that. I was with Gary when he got drafted and through the first three years in the minors where he was continually being moved from team to team. There was a time there when neither one of us was sure he was going to make it, but eventually the Cougars called him up, and he's been there the last seven years. Baseball has been good to us. I don't know how long that will last, but we try to stay in the moment. That's all anyone can do right? None of us can predict the future."

"That's true," she said slowly, wondering if living in the moment was something common to ballplayers. Maybe knowing their careers would be short made every day more important.

"Can I top off your wine?" Connie inquired, reaching for the bottle on the counter.

Julie shook her head. She needed to keep her wits about her. She was already feeling much too comfortable in the cozy kitchen.

The outside door suddenly burst open, and Matt ran into the room with a huge grin on his face.

Gary had obviously imparted the good news.

Matt reached for Connie and gave her a hug. "Congratulations! I can't believe it. This time next year there will be little Hartmans running around."

"Make that little Hartman, singular, please," Connie commanded, extricating herself from Matt's arms with a laugh.

"I can't believe it," Matt continued. "You two are going to be parents. Your life is definitely going to change."

"In a good way," Connie said.

"Sure, if you consider getting up three times a night and changing diapers a good time," Gary teased.

She playfully slugged her husband in the arm. "You'll love every minute of it. And I don't think you've said hello to Julie yet."

Gary gave her a sheepish smile as he came over to say hello. "I am sorry about that. Matt was helping me get the barbecue going and then I had to tell him the big news. Happy you could join us tonight, Julie."

"Me, too, and congratulations."

"Thanks. Are the steaks ready for the grill?" he asked Connie.

She tipped her head toward the platter on the counter. "They're all yours. I need to run upstairs for a minute. I'll be right back."

As Gary took the steaks out to the grill, Matt came over to Julie. "Sorry to desert you like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I like your friends."

Matt perched on the stool next to hers. "I'm really glad about that." He rested his hands on her thighs. "You're becoming very important to me, Julie." His green eyes darkened with emotion. "I want you to know that."

"I feel the same way," she said softly, her nerves tingling as he repeated what Connie had already told her. "I don't really want to, you know?"

His mouth spread into a slow smile. "I know. Don't fight it, sweetheart."

"That's not very good advice. I should fight it. You should, too. We're really different people, Matt. Baseball aside, we don't want the same things."

"The only thing I want right now is another kiss."

"Gary and Connie could come back at any second," she protested.

"Then we better do this fast."

He cupped her face with his hands. His kiss was warm, tender, promising. Her lips parted and she swiped her tongue across his lips.

Matt groaned and pulled her closer, prolonging the kiss until they were breathless. Shaken by the explosive passion of what was meant to be a lighthearted kiss, they simply stared at each other for a long moment, and then Matt blew out a breath. "I would love to get you out of here and finish what we just started."

"We can't leave. We haven't had dinner yet." And she could not finish what they'd just started, so maybe that was a good thing.

"You're right." Matt stood up. He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's help Gary with the barbecue. We both need some air."

She wished that was all she needed.

Chapter Ten

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. Matt and Gary had first met in the minors, and they had hundreds of stories to tell about their experiences back then and another hundred to tell about their recent years with the Cougars. They were roommates on the road, so they were about as close as any two players could be. Once in a while, Matt offered her an apologetic glance and tried to steer the conversation away from baseball, but within minutes they would be right back where they started.

Julie was surprisingly interested and entertained by their stories. While some of their experiences brought back memories from her past, they didn't sting as much as they used to. And it was different to hear about baseball as an adult and not as a kid. She had a different perspective now.

She also liked how humble both Matt and Gary were. They really didn't take their talent or their good fortune for granted. They knew they were only as good as their last game and that every at bat was the start of something new. They were both really good and could certainly live off some glory days, but they didn't. They also had a genuine love of the game, which reminded her of her father, because he had loved baseball with all of his heart. She couldn't really blame him for that—just for everything else.

Her father had gotten caught up in his fame. He'd started to believe the world should revolve around him. She didn't get the same vibe from Matt or from Gary. In fact, watching Gary and Connie together, she saw an equal relationship, a loving, teasing partnership, and it was clear that they were madly in love with each other. She suspected that was partly why Matt had brought her to dinner. He wanted her to see a baseball relationship that was good and that was working.

Finally calling the evening to an end just before ten, they said their goodbyes, got in the car and headed back to San Francisco.

"Well?" Matt asked about ten minutes into their quiet drive.

She gave him a smile. "It was fun. Connie and Gary are great. They're down-to-earth, really good people."

Her words put a smile on his face. "I thought you'd like them. I can't believe they're going to have a kid. This time next year there will be a baby." He shook his head in bemusement. "Gary acts more like a kid than an adult most of the time."

"Then he'll be able to relate to his child really well. It will be more difficult for Connie. She'll be the one holding things together while Gary is playing."

"I know it can be hard on the wives," Matt admitted. "But the Cougars are a family team. They try to offer as much help as they can to the families. I know a lot of the women are friends and support each other."

"Connie mentioned that. She said some of them play softball together in the off-season and make the guys watch the kids."

"I forgot about that." He gave her a quick, curious look. "Did you ever play?"

"Yes, of course. I was my father's daughter, after all. I started when I was about seven and played until I was thirteen. I was good, too."

"What position did you play?"

"Early on I was a pitcher, because no one else could actually get the ball near the plate, and my father was a pitcher, so I thought it was cool to have his position. But I didn't really like that fast pitch motion. It hurt my arm. So I moved over to shortstop."

He turned and met her gaze. "My position?"

"Well, you're not the only shortstop in the world," she said with a laugh. "I was good at grounders, and I could throw pretty hard. My dad had made sure that I did not throw like a girl."

"He must have been proud of you."

"He hardly ever made it to a game. Maybe a half-dozen times in all those years."

"Sorry."

She shrugged. "It was just the way it was. I didn't hold it against him back then. I accepted his life; it was the only life I'd ever known. I respected that he was doing his job. But later, after everything went to hell, I realized that he hadn't always been working when he was away from home. Sometimes he was on a week-long fishing trip or hiking in the mountains or biking to Mexico with his friends. He was a very active man. And the off-season got shorter and shorter. He would head to spring training weeks before it actually started. I guess those were all signs of his discontent and trouble in the marriage, but I was a kid, so I didn't know. I didn't pick up on the signals."

"Your mother should have?"

"Well, they did fight a lot, so I guess she suspected something was wrong." She drew in a breath and let it out. "Anyway, it was all a long time ago. I haven't thought this much about those days in a very long time, but meeting you brought it all back."

"Sorry about that."

She shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"I'm glad you've finally admitted that."

She ignored his comment. "Don't forget we need to stop at the ballpark so I can get my car."

"I haven't forgotten."

A few minutes later, he turned into the empty stadium lot and parked next to her car. She stepped onto the pavement and shivered as a cold breeze from the bay lifted the air off of her neck.

Matt met her by her car as she dug into her bag for her keys.

"It's a beautiful night," he said.

"Cold, but pretty," she agreed, looking out at the bay and the sky. "No fog tonight, just a lot of stars."

"Yeah," he said, lifting his face toward the sky. "Did I ever tell you that at one point in my life I wanted to be an astronomer?"

"No. Seriously?"

"Yes. My dad loved looking into the sky. He had a telescope that he put up on the roof of our house, and he used to take me up there and tell me where the different stars were. I loved the idea of being part of a bigger universe."

"You should hang out with Alex Donovan then. He has an incredibly high-powered telescope on the roof of his office building. He and Andrea took me up there one night and it was amazing. I felt like I was actually in space."

"He did mention that to me once. I'll have to take him up on his offer to try it out. We should go out with them sometime. I'd like to meet Andrea."

His words made her feel like they were a couple, which was both exciting and terrifying. She really needed to figure out what she wanted from Matt.

"Don't you think that would be fun?" he prodded.

"Sure. But your life is going to get busy in another week. You'll be gone and on the road. Who knows when we could make that happen?"

"That's all true, but I try to make time for what's important—who's important," he said, putting his arms around her.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

"You don't believe me?"

"I think you believe what you're saying; I just don't know if you aren't being overly optimistic."

He smiled. "Well, a pessimist like you would think that."

"I'm really not that negative," she protested.

"With me, you are."

"Because I just don't see where this can go."

"You don't have to see the future now. You just have to feel good about this moment."

He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long hug. She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder, and felt incredibly warm and safe and protected in the circle of his embrace. They clung together for several minutes, just enjoying the feel of each other's bodies, but the sense of comfort gradually slipped away, replaced by a nervous tingling, and a needy desire, a hunger for more.