Deceptions (The Mystical Encounter Series Book 2) (12 page)

Not missing a cue, he drew my lips to his. What started out as a slow, tantalizing kiss turned into a need that wouldn’t be filled now or anytime soon. That didn’t stop him from pressing his lips against mine or squeezing my waist, pulling me tightly to his body. Our bodies pressed together revealed his reaction to our impromptu liaison. At least I wasn’t the only one affected that way.

When our lips released, he leaned his forehead to mine. We stood there for a few seconds, trying to get control over our emotions.

He brought his hands up to my face and traced his thumb across my lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. I released the grip I had on his shirt, and he shut his eyes, chuckling. “God, I hope Grandma wasn’t watching out the window.”

Turning a few shades darker pink, I gently pushed him off me. “Let’s go,” I suggested, picking up the cooler.

He grabbed the rest of the supplies and we turned toward the steps and walked the short distance to his car.

After opening my car door, he leaned over slightly, smirking. “With a greeting like that, I may have you pick me up from now on.”

“You wish,” I replied, grinning.

As he walked around the car, I wondered just how much further he wished to take our relationship. The hyperactive hormones racing through my body screamed to let it happen, but I wasn’t ready. Not mentally.

As we left, he shifted in his seat and ran his left hand through his hair. Hmm, something bothered him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have to stop by my house to pick up the extra baseball glove.”

My eyes shifted toward him as I nodded. Internally I sighed. The grimace on his face still proved he didn’t want me going to his house. By this point I should understand. If my mother was somehow connected with the distribution of marijuana and sleeping with a married man, I’d be ashamed, too. I just wondered what part of that scenario he was trying to hide from me.

After pulling into his driveway, I grabbed ahold of the handle, ready to exit as soon as he parked. Normally he opens my door, but if I waited for that to happen, he might leave me in the car while he grabbed the glove. I could just as easily have stayed in the car, but my curiosity was piqued.

Barry gave me a questioning look, but remained silent as I followed him to the back of his house. The jingling of his keys rang out as apprehension oozed from every pore. Not sure what he expected to find, but it was clear my presence made him uncomfortable. He didn’t even reach for my hand.

As we approached the back steps, uneasiness swept through me. I should’ve stayed in the car. Honestly, there wasn’t a need for me to go inside, especially if it caused him that much stress. Even though I was curious, what would it accomplish?

“Barry, if you don’t mind, I’ll just wait here while you go get it.”

His entire body relaxed as he smiled widely. “I’ll only be a second,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

Exasperated, I plopped down on the top step, scanning his backyard. Located in the middle of town, the yard was sizably smaller than ours, but tidy. A couple of full–grown maple trees stood toward the back, providing the only shade. Empty flowerbeds lined both sides of the steps, but held promise. A medium–sized wooden shed sat off to the right. The stain, a faded grayish color, desperately needed refreshing, but the building had character. Two empty urns adorned the door while a series of windowpanes completed the look.

The windows were hazy and dark, like they were covered by a film or something.
How odd.
I leaned forward, straining to get a glimpse and frowned. A black sheet completely covered each window pane from the inside.
Strange
.

Barry came barreling out the door. Noticing me eyeing the shed, he said, “That’s Mom’s little escape. She spends hours inside there, planting and growing her flowers. She keeps it locked, claiming it’s her refuge from reality. She doesn’t want anyone in there messing up her solitude.” With a shrug, he added, “I’ve never seen her set–up, but I imagine the flowers are about ready to be planted.”

Two things simultaneously occurred to me. One, that that was the most Barry had ever told me about his mom. And two, I could almost guarantee that more than just flowers were being grown inside that shed. Bile rose, leaving a sour taste in my mouth at the idea of having to tell Tanner. One day was all I asked. One day to spend with Barry with no outside influences. If I could turn back the clock, we would’ve headed directly to the park and tossed around the baseball I didn’t even like.

Those thoughts needed to be pushed aside, and fast. Suspicions and doubt couldn’t darken my features, they needed to be genuine. Forcing a smile, any concerns disappeared behind my fake facade. “That’s awesome that she can grow her own flowers,” I said cheerily. “I remember last fall when we drove past here they were beautiful.” I tried hard to mask the wavering in my voice.

“Yeah, well sometimes I think she cares more about those damn flowers than she cares about me.” He deadpanned while spinning the glove around in his hand. His eyes were empty as he stared at that stupid shed‌—‌I wanted so badly to smooth out the hard lines that formed across his face.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said softly. “They just steal her free time that’s already limited due to her job.”

With a sigh, he leaned back against the railing. “She wasn’t always this way. Something inside her snapped after my dad died‌—‌at least, that’s what Grandma told me.” Glancing up, I studied him as he continued talking. With a faraway expression, his mind resorted to the past.

“Dad died when I was young, about three years old. A drunk driver came around a curve too fast, plowing into the side of his door. They say he died instantly.” With a glance back at the shed, he added, “Mom’s never been right since. Grandma thinks something died inside her that day too. All I remember was sadness taking over the house like a black cloud. That’s when I started going over to Grandma’s house regularly. I guess I wasn’t enough to keep Mom going. Now she works in a bar close to the city. It’s frequented mostly by college students since it’s not too far away from campus. Every time when a few older classmates come back, they razz me about seeing her.” He shook his head disgustedly as he glanced back at me. After a pause, he added, “I guess I shouldn’t complain, huh? At least our house is decent.”

“I’m sorry, Barry‌—‌we can’t pick family. I think we both got dealt a rather shitty hand for a parent. I know I did with my father, but we can’t ask for a reshuffle‌—‌we just have to make do with what we’ve been dealt. At least we both have someone who cares about us. My mom, mostly, has turned things around. There’s been a drastic improvement in our relationship over the last few months, and you have your grandma. She’s so awesome, Barry, and it’s obvious how much she loves you.”

As I stood, he offered his hand to help. While he grasped my hand, he smiled tenderly and gave me a tug. He leaned over, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. “And we have each other,” he whispered into my ear, instantly causing soft goose–bumps to form.

My eyes closed.
Yes, but for how long?
I wanted to melt into his chest, conjoining us together. Solidified as one, the chance of us breaking apart would decrease significantly. I would not survive this day. Overwhelmed with guilt from needing to call Tanner, I kept my expression neutral as we returned to his car.

~13~

Play Ball

“No. No. No. You have to keep your eyes open,” Barry yelled, motioning his hands to get me to stop. He ran toward me.

The flabbergasted smile he wore alerted me I was doing something wrong. We were at the park playing catch in an open grassy area by the baseball fields. While we weren’t technically on the fields, the closeness gave the essence of being a baseball player.

“If you don’t, you will catch the fly ball with your face,” he added.

I laughed. “Hey, I never said I was a sports guru.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. I better start with a few lessons before putting you in the outfield,” he teased, laughing.

My eyebrows rose while I gave him an incredulous smile, which only succeeded in making him laugh harder.

Barry slowed to a trot when he approached and positioned himself behind me. His arms slid on top of mine and I melted, becoming a puppet under his control. The tingles his touch created were distracting, and I inhaled deeply to concentrate on what he was saying.

“Okay, first you want to keep your eyes on the ball the
entire
time‌—‌no closing them. Then, estimate where the ball will land. If you think it will fall behind you, then back pedal,
keeping
your eye on the ball. If you think it will fall in front of you, then move toward it,
keeping
your eye on the ball.”

With a wily smile, I nodded. “Got it‌—‌keep my eye on the ball and adjust to where it should land.” I mocked.

“Uh–huh.” He deadpanned. “Remember, it’s for your own good. I want to keep that pretty face of yours from getting hurt.”

“Okay, sorry. I’ll get serious,” I replied, trying my best to sound stoic, but that silly grin wouldn’t leave my face.

“That’s more like it,” he said. “Now, when you’re positioned where the ball will drop, raise the glove underneath the ball when it falls. Just make sure you position the glove in front of your face, slightly higher than your head.” While placing my mitt into position, he bent my arm to a ninety–degree angle, and then moved my hand so my palm faced an imaginary, incoming ball. “Now, place your other hand directly behind the glove, like this. This supports it. Once you catch the ball, two things will happen‌—‌you’ll squeeze the glove shut while bringing the other hand on top.” Taking out a ball from his shorts pocket, he tossed it a few feet into the air and caught it to demonstrate. “I’ll back up a little ways, and then we’ll put distance between us gradually until you get the hang of it.”

After a few missed catches by me and some pretty off–the–chart throws by him, we finally backed away from each other. I was terrible at first, but Barry’s instructions helped.

I admired Barry’s carefree expression while we played catch.
He’s so cute.
With the natural smile plastered on his face, I was glad I hadn’t whined about playing. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. Several months ago, he seemed aloof about the baseball trophies in his room. I couldn’t remember why he quit playing. The gleam in his eyes and boisterous laughter suggested he should’ve continued.

“You did great, rookie,” Barry said, jogging over to me.

I tossed the ball to him and grinned. He caught it and took off his glove, tucking them both underneath his arm.

“First darts and now baseball? You’ll make a sports person out of me yet.” I flipped my glove against his chest.

“Well, I keep trying,” he said jokingly. Taking my glove, he leaned down and planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

“Are you getting hungry?” he asked.

I nodded. “I could eat.”

He reached for my hand and we walked in the direction of his car to get the picnic items.

“Barry, you should’ve gone out for the baseball team this year. You love playing it,” I said, tilting my head toward him.

His smile dropped and he looked away. “Yeah,” he said, his voice trailing off.

His evasive answer intrigued me. What was his deal? I shook my head and let it go. I just didn’t have the energy to find out.

Ahead of us, a police car drove slowly in the parking lot. My back immediately straightened.
Could that be Bart?
It’s Sunday, he shouldn’t be working.

Barry must’ve felt my response because he followed my gaze. He squeezed my fingers tighter, but remained tight–lipped. I watched the squad car drive up and down the aisles as if searching for something. The car slowed to a crawl as it crept past Barry’s vehicle. What the heck? My breath released as soon as the officer slowly pulled away. I shuddered as the tension seemed to leave along with the police. What was that all about?

We continued on until we reached Barry’s car. He opened his trunk, tossing both gloves inside, and pulled out the cooler and blanket.

On the way to the grassy picnic area, we’d passed by the playground equipment. The children’s laughter echoed in the background, drawing my attention. I squinted from the sun’s reflection off the bronze plaque. We came to a halt and Barry shifted behind me, placing the cooler down. I barely breathed as I clutched the blanket to my chest with my left arm. My right hand slowly extended to touch the side of the plaque. The words
In Memory of Johnny Matthews
were engraved on the plaque. A twinge of pain squeezed my heart. Refusing to surrender to those somber feelings, I glanced upward and smiled before twisting my head toward Barry.

“He’s in a better place now,” I said.

His arms wrapped around me as he nodded. He swallowed hard. “I know. It’s just hard to believe everything that happened.”

The warmth from his chest soothed my sadness and I burrowed closer. The emotions swarming through my mind were indescribable. Lost in our own world, the laughter that erupted startled me, and I glanced upwards. Children ran around the playground equipment and their playful chatter made us smile. That was what the donation money was for: the children. The boisterous sounds coming from the kids playing made it totally worth it.

“Well, if it’s not the local hero,” a deep, familiar voice said.

Any lingering heartwarming sensations dissipated the second Bart interrupted us. Barry’s hands dropped to his side, and we turned to face him. Unless jeans and a cotton t–shirt had become the official police uniform, he wasn’t on duty.

“Bart,” Barry said. He leaned down to pick up the cooler.

I forced a smile as my heart threatened to beat out of my ribcage. The heartbeats ricocheted against my chest so loudly, I was half–afraid he could hear. His presence alone was an ugly reminder that I still needed to call Tanner.

“Did you know, Barry? Your girlfriend is becoming quite popular down at our precinct.”

Bart directed the question at Barry, but his glare never wavered from me. His narrowed eyes sent a sudden coldness straight to my core. What the hell did he want with me? Surely he couldn’t know what I had seen.