Love of the Game (15 page)

In that moment, Axel
knew
he had to have her. Not just in his bed. Not just for one night. But in his life.

Forever.

This was crazy. He'd never even kissed her, hardly knew her. And yet it felt as if he'd known her intimately all his life. They had a special, indefinable connection.

Question was how did he convince her? Not to mention, how did he fit her into his life? She was a small-town girl who was about to gain custody of her handicapped sister, and he was a hard-driving ballplayer with designs on pitching for the New York Yankees. How could two people with such different goals make it work?

Didn't matter. He might not know how right now, but he
would
find a way.

S
omething had shifted in their relationship after Kasha discovered Axel was a closet painter. She couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed, or why, but change it had.

The formidable sexual attraction was still there; if anything, it was stronger than ever. But there was something more. Something with more weight and heft. Behind the hot, hard lust in his eyes whenever he looked at her, there was added dimension that went beyond physical desire. She didn't know what it meant, but it thrilled her and at the same time terrified her.

What was going on?

She left the ranch that afternoon feeling disoriented and giddy and worried. To calm down, she dropped in on a yoga class, which was much less attended than usual because of the Memorial Day weekend; only the diehard yogis showed up.

One thing was for sure, she needed to get herself in hand, and concentrate on what was important. Finishing this job satisfactorily so she could get custody of Emma. That was her priority. This thing with Axel could not work even if she wasn't his therapist. She was better off not even thinking about him, but even two hours of vinyasa flow could not unstick him from her mind.

She was falling hard and fast and didn't know how to climb off the merry-go-round. But she had to, because everything good in both their lives depended on it.

On Sunday morning after church services, butter
flies batted against Kasha's stomach as she walked up to the group home to take Emma home for an overnight stay. She'd readied the guest room, and after consulting with Molly Banks about how she thought Emma would handle the party, she stocked her fridge and pantry with Emma's favorite foods.

The entire household met her at the door to see Emma off. Cliff handed her Emma's luggage, and Molly gave her a sack of medications.

“In the mornings,” Molly said, “she takes the pink liquid for her allergies, the white pill to keep her from having seizures, and the—”

Kasha blinked. “She has seizures?”

“Not if she takes her pills,” Molly said. “But I can see I'm overwhelming you. I wrote down the instructions, and put them in the sack with her meds. Feel free to call me if you have any questions. Oh, and her doctor's phone number is on the medication list.”

“Uh, yes, thank you.” Kasha tucked the sack under her arm, as it hit her how little she knew about her sister's medical condition.

Emma was amped up, jumping and smiling and singing a nonsense song. She wore red Bermuda shorts, a red and white striped T-shirt, and red Keds. Her hair was pulled into pigtails with red and white ribbons. Her glasses had slipped down the end of her nose and she looked utterly adorable.

“Try to calm her down if you can,” Molly whispered in Kasha's ear. “It's hard to contain her if she gets spun up. Don't let her get spun up.”

Spun up? What exactly did that mean?

But Kasha didn't have a chance to pull Molly aside for clarification. Emma was clutching her hand and dragging her toward the Prius parked at the curb.

Once they were loaded up and buckled into the
car, Kasha turned to Emma and said, “Would you like to play a game?”

“Game!” Emma clapped her hands.

“Okay. Take a long, deep breath like this.” Kasha demonstrated.

Emma studied her, then followed suit.

“Now let it out slowly.” Kasha exhaled audibly.

Emma did the same.

“Here's the game. I bet you can't do that ten times in a row,” Kasha said.

Emma stared at her, arms crossed over her chest, bottom lips pouched out. “Lame game.”

Yes, okay, it was. “Take ten slow deep breaths and we'll go to a party.”

“Party!”

“Deep breaths.”

Emma ignored her.

Don't let her get spun up.
Molly's words of warning echoed in Kasha's ears. What should she do?

She wasn't going to insist Emma take deep breaths when she seemed so resistant. Kasha smiled softly, and took some more deep breaths herself. If she was calm, hopefully it would calm Emma.

“Would you like to listen to music?” Kasha asked.

“Mu'ic!”

Kasha turned the satellite radio to soothing spa music.

Emma crinkled her nose, reached over, and punched buttons on the radio until she found a hard-driving hip-hop song with shocking lyrics. Satisfied, Emma settled back in the seat, those red Keds bobbing in time to the beat.

Great. From the frying pan into the fire.

She reached over to turn the music down.

“No!” Emma grunted and turned it back up, louder this time.

Um, okay. Kasha bit her bottom lip. She'd not seen Emma like this before, but everyone had off days. No doubt it was the excitement. Patience. Compassion. Understanding. That's what was needed.

Plus, picking her battles. She wasn't going to escalate things by changing the music or turning it down again. Not worth it.

Besides, Molly's warning might have prejudiced her for trouble. She was going to assume everything would work out just fine.

“We're going to have a fun day,” she said to Emma.

“Fun!” Emma cried.

“Fun,” Kasha agreed, and felt her tension ebb. No expectations. No pressure. She could handle whatever challenges might come her way. In fact, she would look at any glitches as opportunities to get to know Emma better.

“I love you, titter,” Emma announced at the top of her voice and unbuckled her seat belt so she could lean over to hug Kasha as she drove.

“I love you too, sweetheart, but please sit down and put your seat belt back on.”

Emma was practically in her lap, throwing one leg over the gear shifter and one arm around Kasha's neck, and planting a wet kiss on her temple.

Oh heavens.

Kasha eased off the accelerator and guided the car to the curb as best she could under the circumstances.

“Why we toppin'?” Emma asked.

“Because the car doesn't move unless everyone inside is sitting down with a seat belt on.”

“Okay.” Emma nodded agreeably, and returned to her seat.

Kasha blew out a pent-up breath. Rule established and followed. Good. Good. She started the car back up again, and Emma was a paragon of virtue for the rest of the ride to the party. Emma even reached over to turn down the music herself.

Everything was going to be all right.

T
hirty minutes later, Kasha was rethinking her decision about bringing Emma to the party.

Even though her parents, sisters, and friends tried repeatedly to encourage Emma to take part in the festivities, the girl clung to Kasha's side like a cocklebur. Every time someone spoke to Emma directly, she would wrap her arms tightly around Kasha's waist and bury her face against her side.

Not once had Kasha seen her half sister act shyly, and she wasn't prepared for it.

Belatedly, she thought about how Axel had told her to get a battle plan. She should have listened.

“Don't worry,” Mom said to Kasha, as she sat at the kitchen table with a trembling Emma and a roomful of guests. “This boisterous bunch takes some getting used to. She'll come around. I've told everyone to back off and give our girl some space.”

“I remember it took Kasha a while to warm up to us too,” Trudy said. “Lord, that was over twenty years ago.”

Kasha put her arm around Emma, and didn't try to coax her to speak.

It wasn't until Suki's cat, Callie, sauntered into the room that Emma lit up. “Kitty!” she exclaimed, and charged for the calico.

Kasha, Suki, and her mother all sprang to their feet at once. With her PTSD, Callie could be unpredictable if someone grabbed her unexpectedly, and Emma looked bent on grabbing her.

“Emma no,” Kasha said, trying not to sound panicky. “Don't lunge at the kitty.”

But Emma was already squatting in front of Callie, and the purring calico put her front paws up on her knees. The cat stretched out her neck and licked Emma's cheek.

Emma giggled, plopped down on her butt on the kitchen floor, and pulled the cat into her lap.

“Wow,” Suki said. “I've never seen Callie take so readily to a stranger. Emma's got the magic touch.”

“Kitty.” Emma stroked the cat gently, and Kasha felt her shoulders relax.

Callie was the icebreaker Emma needed, and suddenly she was chattering to everyone, and things were good again.

The next trouble came when Suki went outside and Callie went with her. Emma followed the cat, and Kasha followed Emma.

And there was Axel, coming through the gate into the backyard, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries in the other. He wore beige chinos and a black polo shirt, with the collar spread open, showing a bit of tanned bare chest.

Having forgotten about Axel being invited to the party, Kasha stopped, the smell of barbecue in her nose and the sound of kids splashing in the swimming pool drumming through her ears.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

They inhaled at the same time. Drawing in the same air. Oh no.

“Why did you bring me flowers and chocolate-covered fruit?” she asked. “We're not dating. This isn't a date.”

“Flowers are for your mom,” he said mildly, his eyes lively with amusement. “Chocolate for the party.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling stupid. Things were weirdly different now, and she had no idea where they stood.

“Did you want me to bring you chocolates and flowers?”

“No, no, no, no.”

“
'Cause you made it clear we couldn't date or—”

“We can't. Shh. Someone will hear you.”

“You're not going to get fired for talking to me, Sphinx.”

“I know. I'm just . . . thrown seeing you out of place.”

“You mean on your home turf.”

“I didn't think you'd really come,” she said.

“Is that Emma?” he asked, motioning with his chin since his hands were occupied.

Kasha turned to see Emma talking to three neighborhood ten-year-old girls who appeared to have crashed the party without their parents. “Yes.”

“Can I meet her?”

“Relieve yourself of produce first.”

“Good idea.”

She walked with him to the back door and into the house, casting a glance over her shoulder at Emma. Gentle Breeanne took Emma's hand and guided her over to the tire swing. And Kasha realized this party would stand out as one of the most pivotal days of her life.

It was the beginning of the change. Once she had custody of Emma, there would be no going back. Things would never be the same.

But she wasn't in this alone. Her family had her back, and by extension, they also had Emma's.

Breeanne pushed Emma in the tire swing. The girl pumped her legs and grasped the rope with both hands; her teeth sank into her bottom lip as if she were concentrating for all she was worth.

Kasha waited at the screen door, keeping one eye on Axel, one on Emma, while her mother gushed over Axel's flowers, and set the strawberries on the sideboard already laden with a massive amount of food.

“How's she doing?” Axel asked close to her ear, his chin hovering over her shoulder as he leaned in to follow her gaze.

Kasha jumped, not realizing he'd snuck up on her. “Rocky start, but things are looking up.”

“That's the thing about rocks, eventually they smooth out.”

“That sounds uncharacteristically philosophical.”

“Maybe I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” He rotated his shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

“Want some lunch?” she asked.

“Those burgers your dad is flipping are making my stomach rumble. Okay if I eat meat?”

“Free country,” she said, and toed the screen door open, feeling swoony and claustrophobic from being so close to him.

He followed her down the steps, right on her heels. She could feel him behind her, big and imposing.

“Emma,” she called.

Emma was sitting at the picnic table with the three neighborhood ten-year-olds, who were eating watermelon slices and seeing how far they could spit the seeds.

Kasha got an uneasy feeling about the three girls, who were usually quite cliquish. Why were they
being so chummy with Emma? “Come here a minute. There's someone I want you to meet.”

“Is she your mom?” one of the girls said to Emma. “If she's not your mom, you don't have to do what she says.”

“My titter,” Emma explained proudly.

“Ahmm, you said ‘tit.'
” Another girl slapped her hand over her mouth, a calculating gleam in her eyes.

“What's a titter?” giggled the third girl. “Is it anything like a uni-boob?”

Emma's smile slipped, and she looked confused. “
Tit
-ter. 'He my titter.”

“That guy is your titter?” The first girl snorted with laughter.

“Oh,” said the second girl. “I get it. You don't know how to say sister. It's
sis
-ter. Repeat after me,
sis, sis, sis.
”

“Tit, tit, tit,” Emma said.

The three girls were laughing so hard they clasped their bellies and one even rolled right off the picnic bench.

Tears filled Emma's eyes, as she kept crying out, “Tit, tit, tit.”