Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) (4 page)

It was good to be home.

Parker

“Uncle Pawker!” my four-year-old niece Gabby screamed at me.

I had barely stepped foot out of my truck before the little dark-haired cutie came barreling at me, her springy curls bouncing around like crazy. She was the spitting image of her mother Mickie who was soon to follow her out the door.

“Gabriella Cruz! You know better than to run outside without your coat on!” she said to her daughter in that stern mom tone.

The little girl I scooped up in my arms looked at me sheepishly like I would save her. I usually did, though. She knew she had me wrapped around her finger, the devious little thing.

“I’m sowy, Momma. I just wanted to see Uncle Pawker.”

Well, if that didn’t totally melt a guy, then he had a heart of stone. Plus, the fact that she couldn’t say her “r’s” was one of the cutest damn things I’d ever heard.

“Yes, but you might get sick without a coat on,
sobrinita
,” I told her, the term of endearment being one of the few exceptions I made for speaking in our father’s native tongue. “Better listen to your momma. They always know best.”

She released a string of giggles when I started tickling her and even Mickie started laughing. She knew that I couldn’t stand being anything but the fun uncle. Gabby and her twin brother, Leo, could get away with anything around me and everyone knew it.

I hauled the squealing girl toward the two-story brick row house, leaning down to give my sister-in-law a peck on the cheek as she held the front door open for us. “Hey, Mickie.”

She smirked as she watched me blow strawberries on her daughter’s stomach. “Always entertaining to see you, Parker.”

“That’s what we keep him around for,” came my oldest brother Dawson’s voice as he entered the room. “Well, that and the season tickets at Fenway.”

“I knew it. You guys have been using me all along,” I said, throwing my arm around Dawson in a half-hug since I still had my niece in my other arm. “Good to see you, brother.”

“You too. Get you a beer?” he asked.

“Hel—” I started and then remembered the four-year-old in my arms. “Heck, yes.”

Mickie just smiled and took Gabby from me. “Come on, missy. Come help Momma with supper.” Gabby pouted but dutifully followed her mother, leaving me alone with my brother to catch up.

“Mason here yet?” I asked. My other older brother could always be somewhat elusive when it came to plans.

Dawson nodded and gestured outside with his beer bottle. “He’s in the back with my car, looking at my alternator. May have to replace it even though the damn thing is only two years old. Leo’s helping him.”

The middle Cruz brother owned a custom auto body and paint shop. He specialized in custom paint and design jobs, including restoration projects on cars, trucks, and motorcycles. Not only could the guy build almost any type of engine from scrap, but he came up with half the designs himself and was an extremely talented artist. His shop wasn’t a garage and he didn’t do basic mechanical work, but we never had to talk him into anything when it came to helping us out with our own vehicles.

“How’s work going?” I asked as I plopped down onto the leather sectional in the living room. It felt like the first time I had truly relaxed in months.

Dawson shrugged. “Same old, same old. Another day, another case, and another criminal to lock up.”

He had been with the Baltimore Police Department for ten years, the last four of which had been spent as a detective.

“And Mickie and the kids?”

He blew out a deep breath. “I never imagined having two kids in preschool at the same time would ever be such a nightmare. I thought getting it all out of the way at once would be great. But you’ve got twice the amount of parent-teacher conferences, twice the number of tee-ball games since, for some reason they couldn’t get on the same team, and twice the money for every other activity under the sun.”

I laughed but I also heard the exhaustion in his voice. He was a great father but I knew he felt a lot of pressure with his job and taking care of his family. Basically, he worked his ass off to provide for and take care of them, ensuring that he would never end up like the worthless man who raised the three of us.

“Yeah, but you’ll never get those years back, man, so enjoy them now.” Not that I knew anything about that. I was nowhere even close to starting a family of my own. “And Mickie? How’s the hospital?”

Mickie had been an ER nurse since she and Dawson got married. She handled her long and sometimes irregular hours, two kids, a husband, and a house to take care of with a grace that I more than respected.

Dawson had definitely not married our mother.

Something I think he was immensely proud of.

But I was surprised when his face hardened at that question, his eyes losing some of the light they had five seconds ago. “It’s good, I guess. She got promoted to department supervisor a few weeks ago, which is great because it’s more money. But her hours have also gotten crazier.” He paused for a second and then, “It’s just been a little hectic around here lately.”

I studied him for a minute, wondering what he wasn’t telling me. With Dawson it could be anything. Out of the three of us, he had always been the least likely to discuss his feelings aloud with anyone. From a young age, he always kept everything he was feeling inside. To the point that I didn’t know how he hadn’t exploded like a powder keg with all the emotions he was bottling up.

“You know, if you guys need help watching the kids, I can schedule out more time to come down here. At least until spring training in March. I know Mason helps but he’s got his own stuff too, so if you need me to help out, you know I will.”

He waved me off. “I know, man, but it’s okay. We’ve got it covered, really. They go to their friends’ houses if we can’t figure out a babysitter and we trust those parents. Mickie’s also got a nurse friend who comes over when she can, and our neighbor down the street is always willing to watch them when she’s not visiting her daughter in Annapolis.”

“But everything is okay with you two? With you and Mickie?”

He nodded but didn’t really smile, making the lines around his eyes look more prominent. “Yeah, we’re good. With all the changes over the last month, it’s just been stressful. Things’ll settle down once we get back into our routine.”

“Alright. Well, you know you guys can always call me if you ever need anything.”

He nodded. “Appreciate it.”

Deciding it was time to change the subject, we dove into a lengthy baseball discussion—since that was usually what we did when the three of us got together—but we were cut off when Mason came in the front door, bringing a
whoosh
of cold air with him.

He looked at me. “Aired up your two front tires. They were low.”

I shook my head and stood up to give him a hug. “Nice to see you too, man. And thanks.”

I stepped back and took in the sight of my brother, even though it had only been about a month and a half since I’d seen him last. He was looking healthier than ever these days, much better than five years ago when he was starting to head down a much darker path. His dark blonde hair wasn’t shaggy and unkempt and his stubbled face wasn’t pale and gaunt.

He’d pulled himself out of the hole he was in and got help, much to our relief.

And he’d been clean and sober ever since.

Suddenly, I was almost knocked on my feet by a four-year-old tornado that crashed into my legs, wrapping his arms around them and hugging me to him.

“Uncle Parker!” Leo screamed.

I smiled and picked him up. “Hey, kid.”

My nephew looked as much like Dawson as a kid could ever look like his father. His skin was a light olive color and his hair was dark like both of his parents. But his hazel eyes, those were all from his mother. It was obvious because they were such a unique color, hazel but with a distinct golden hue to them that reminded me of a cat.

It was funny because Gabby’s look was almost the opposite of her brother’s. She had lighter skin like her mom and springy curls in her hair to match. But those chocolate eyes of hers were from her father, not Mickie. This pattern seemed to run in the family because I shared those same chocolate eyes, which came from our father. Dawson and I looked alike. Our dark hair had a slight wave to it, like our father. Our skin was a dark olive like his.

We both hated the fact that we looked so much like him.

Mason was the one who had gotten more of our mother’s genes. His skin was still dark but a little lighter shade than ours. His hair was more of a dirty blonde but with that same wave in it that ours had. And he had gotten our mother’s light green eyes.

Green eyes always reminded me of
her
.

But Kinley’s green eyes were darker than Mason’s, deeper. They shone bright like an emerald, especially when the sunlight glinted off them. I’d gotten lost in them too many times to count over the years.

I sighed.
Kinley
.

I couldn’t think about her now. Not when I was trying to enjoy my time with my family.

Dawson had a Coke ready and waiting for Mason since he didn’t drink anymore. For the first few years, Dawson and I had refrained from drinking around him, out of respect. We understood how difficult it was for him. But he insisted that it was fine now. The temptation to drink wasn’t as strong anymore, he said.

Mason fell onto the opposite side of the sectional from me while Dawson relaxed in his recliner.

“How’s the off-season treating you?” Mason asked.

“Staying busy, of course. Got endorsement deals scheduled, photo shoots, fund-raisers. You know how it goes. They aren’t going to let me slow down until I go back at the end of February.” Off to spring training where I would once again resume my journey back to the World Series.

Because it was definitely happening this year.

We had the talent, the experience. As long as everyone remained healthy, we were going to be back on the road to the postseason.

I could feel it.

“How about you?” I asked him. “How’s the shop?”

The way his face relaxed and that easy grin of his curved his mouth made me thankful for the changes he’d made in his life. He had finally found something that he was passionate about, something he loved doing, and something he could just throw himself into.

I knew how that felt.

“Fucking awesome,” he replied, looking around to make sure the kids weren’t within ear shot. “I’ve got this sweet ’69 GTO I’m restoring for this guy out of Ellicott City. The engine is shit, of course, and the interior is a mess. But the body is a dream. Original fenders, fast back. Thing is going to be purring by the time I get done with her.”

“No wonder you don’t have a girl, bro,” Dawson said, amusement lightening his tone. “If you spent even half the time on finding a woman that you do on your cars, you could be halfway to the altar by now.”

Mason just rolled his eyes. “Who said I wanted to be headed down the aisle? Trust me, I don’t need my big brother’s advice with women. I can get them into my bed all on my own.”

“Just sayin’. You’re not getting any younger.”

“Neither is this guy,” Mason retorted, pointing at me. “Why don’t you bust his balls and leave mine alone.”

I was waiting for that. Dawson turned his attention toward me.

“Yeah, what is your relationship status these days?” he asked me. “I haven’t seen anything in the papers lately. You finally taking a break from the revolving door of one-night-stands?”

I glared at him. He knew as well as I did that seventy-five percent of those bullshit stories were made up by the media. If they saw me even smiling at a woman, I would be reading in the paper the next day that I was having an affair with her, along with three other women, and at least one of them was carrying my child.

They both loved giving me shit about it, too.

“Don’t even go there,” I growled. “I’d hate to have to explain to the kids why their daddy has a bloody nose for Christmas.” Dawson laughed and Mason snickered into his Coke bottle.

Assholes.

The room became quiet then as we sat there in silence. We could hear faint voices coming from the kitchen but I knew none of us were paying attention to them.

There was only one question on all of our minds.

I chose to be the one to ask it.

“You guys going to see them?”

Knowing exactly who I was talking about, Mason just shook his head and Dawson remained silent, his jaw clenching and fists flexing.

After another minute, Dawson finally spoke. “Last time I was down there, she was so strung out on the pills, she barely even recognized me. There was hardly any food in the fridge. And he was drunk, of course, giving me the usual shit about becoming a pig cop and accusing me of thinking I was better than him because I won’t let them see the kids.” Another few beats of silence passed before he added, “He’s lucky I didn’t break his fucking jaw. I don’t think I’ll be going back there for a while.”

We all knew why we took turns stopping by our parents’ place every now and then. It was mainly to check up on our mother and to drop off a little money. Our mother may have been a pill-popping addict now, but she was once a kind, gentle mother who frequently shielded us from our father’s drunken rages. After years of him turning his fists on her, though, it became too much for her and she took to pills to escape from her depression.