Rekindled (29 page)

“Hey sweetness.” I step up next to her while glaring at the suit. “Sorry that took so long, they only had two people working the stand.” I set the box of food on the ground and place the drinks in the cup holders before I slide into the chair that’s directly in between him and Callie.

“It’s okay, you missed a great hit, though. Hawk’s already have a man on third.”

“Yeah, it was a great hit. It’s a
shame
you weren’t here to see it.” The suit clips out, making me swivel in my chair. “I was just telling this beautiful woman here that I know all the players personally, and thought maybe she’d like to come meet them after the game.”

I bristle with the sickly sweet tone he’s using. This guy is definitely a grade-A douchebag.

“That’s very kind of you, but we actually have plans after the game.” I’m glaring daggers at him. His top lip twitches. It’s so subtle I doubt most people would notice it, but I do.

“We do?” Callie asks, placing a hand on my forearm.

“Yes.” I bite out narrowing my eyes at the guy when his smile widens.

“Oh, okay.” she says with a small frown.

Why is she frowning?

“Well, if you change your mind, here’s where you can reach me,” the suit says, while leaning over me to hand Callie a card.

I look back at the guy and see his gold watch glint in the sunlight as he holds his hand out to her. It looks expensive, and he casually lowers his suit sleeve back over it, before grabbing a handkerchief from the flap pocket and dabbing his shiny black Oxford-looking shoes with it. Callie’s attention has already switched back to the game, but I can’t focus on anything other than the guy’s damn shoes.

I’ve seen those shoes millions of times before, every time they walk into my dad’s mechanic shop, the soles clicking noisily against the stained concrete floor. They’re the kind of shoes that are
always
attached to men who buy women shiny distractions, hoping that those
things
will gloss over the fact that beneath the Italian stitching of their suits, and the coiffed hair, is a sorry excuse for a man who doesn’t understand what it means to truly love a woman. They’re the kind of shoes who stand before a woman reciting
til-death-do-us-part
, but a few months later are kicked off in a seedy motel beneath the cloak of night while a woman he met on the internet lets him fuck her from behind.

Logically, I know I’m overreacting. I know that years ago Callie chose Zach for his money out of necessity for her child, but I can’t deny that it still stings. I can’t help, but wonder if one day she’ll wake up and realize that she wants more out of life, like my mom did with my dad. Realize that I’m never going to be the guy who can whisk her off to Paris for a romantic weekend, or who can buy her a diamond ring the size of her face. It scares the shit out of me that some guy like the douchebag sitting to my left is going to waltz into her life and offer her the moon and the stars on a diamond-studded necklace and she’ll realize she can do better than me. Better than some middle-class mechanic who chases fires in the summer.

“Ouch, Tate, you’re cutting off my circulation,” Callie says pulling her hand from mine and shaking it out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Right, and that’s why you’re sitting here pouting worse than my six-year old son.”

Turning in my seat, I look at her. She’s so beautiful, but if anything, that just makes me feel worse. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I lean in toward her. “Why did you want to go with that guy to meet the players, Callie?”

She laughs which only fuels my frustration. “Oh my god, are you jealous of some stranger?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why should it matter? I’m with you.” She reaches over and places her hand on mine.

“Yeah, but for how long? How long until you meet someone who makes more money than me and can offer you things that I can’t?”

Her smile disappears and her eyes narrow on me as she pulls her hand back. “What?”

“I just mean—”

“I know exactly what you mean, Tate.” She spits out my name like it’s poison and I swallow, wishing I had just kept my mouth shut. “You think that because I chose Zach all those years ago that I’m just going to move onto the next rich guy that comes along.”

“That’s not what—”

“That’s
exactly
what you meant.”

She stands and snatches her purse off her seat before storming off down the aisle, mumbling quick apologies as she passes by the group of paint-wearing men. It’s been less than a week since Callie and I have officially been together, and I’ve already managed to fuck this up. I. Am. A. Moron.

“I don’t feel good.”

Sighing, I fold the damp washcloth and run it over Jonah’s forehead while smoothing his hair away from his eyes. “I know, bud. Do you feel like you might throw up again?”

“No, I feel a little bit better now.”

“Okay, why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll be downstairs if you need me, though.”

“Okay. Hey mom?”

“Yes, bud?”

“Can you bring me Spider Man and Zombie Bear? They don’t like the dark.”

I grin as I stride over to the desk where I had set them earlier so that they wouldn’t get vomit on them when Jonah was emptying his stomach onto the floor. Picking them up, I tuck them inside the covers with Jonah and he wraps his arms around them as he closes his eyes.

“Good night, Jonah. I love you.”

“To the moon?”

“To the moon and back,” I say as I flip the lights off and close the door halfway so that I can hear him if he calls out to me.

Padding downstairs, I pour myself a glass of wine before settling on the couch to watch “
I Love Lucy”
reruns when my phone buzzes. Glancing down, I see a text from Tate.

Tate: Can we talk?

Me: Sure. I’ll call you in a minute.

I take another long sip of wine, knowing I’ll probably need it. I pick up my phone to dial his number when there’s a knock at the door. Peeking through the eyehole, I shake my head. Tate. It’s just like him to want to do this in person.

It’s been two days since our date at the baseball stadium, and we haven’t spoken since I dropped him back at base. I thought about picking up the phone a million times during those two days, but honestly, I don’t feel like I should have to be the one to apologize. I was planning on calling him earlier today, but with Jonah getting sick, the phone call disappeared from my mind when my day was spent trying to keep Jonah from regurgitating everything he put in his mouth, and then trying to disinfect the house.

Opening the door, I feel awkward as I stand in front of him wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe and my hair a wild mess. “Tate, now isn’t really the best time to stop by… Jonah’s got a stomach bug.”

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and holds up another that is clutching a plastic grocery bag. “I know. Trista told me you called off to take care of him, so I thought I’d bring by some items that my dad always used on me and Rylee when we were sick.”

I want to still be angry with him for basically calling me a gold-digging whore, but the gesture is really sweet and I’m just too exhausted to fight. Stepping off to the side, he silently brushes past me and moves into the kitchen, unloading cans of chicken noodle soup, some saltine crackers, and a couple cans of ginger ale.

“Couldn’t make up your mind?” I ask pointing to the three cans of chicken noodle soup, each one a different brand.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I didn’t know what kind Jonah would like, so I thought I’d bring options.”

I smile at his thoughtfulness. “Well, thank you. This one is his favorite,” I say picking up Campbell’s chicken with stars.

“Just like his mom.”

“What can I say? My son has good taste.”

He grins at me and takes a step closer, reaching out for my hand and pulling it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “Callie, I’m sorry,” he says, his breath feathering across my skin. “I didn’t mean what I said that day, back at the stadium.”

“Then why did you say it?”

He sighs and closes his eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. I saw that guy in his fancy suit with his expensive watch and gelled hair, and I was jealous. I looked at him and all I could see was Zach, and I panicked. You deserve the moon and the stars, and I’m never going to be that guy who can give you all those
things.
”

“Tate, I don’t need someone to buy me pretty things. I had that, and you know what I learned? That it’s a very lonely existence. I had more jewelry than I knew what to do with, more shoes than I could wear in a month, but you know what I didn’t have? I didn’t have someone to share my day with as we lay in bed. I didn’t have someone whose kisses breathed life into my soul, and who made me feel alive.”

“And do you have that now?” he asks as he leans forward and rests his forehead against mine, his lips just millimeters away from my own. “Do you have someone who makes your heart want to keep beating?”

“I think I’m getting there. This guy I’m sort of dating is pretty incredible. You’d like him, he’s a smokejumper and a mechanic, and a pretty damn good kisser.”

“Only pretty good?”

“Eh, I’ve had better.”

“Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

His fingers fly out and grip the edges of my robe, pulling me closer to him as his lips press into mine. He nips at my bottom lip with his teeth and a moan slips out as my lips part, letting his tongue tease mine. Our tongues move against each other as my hands rake through his hair while pressing myself against his body, needing to be close to him. He smells like smoke and aftershave and it’s taking all my resolve not to rip off all this clothes and straddle him here on the kitchen floor. He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it making my head dizzy with need. When he pulls away, I whimper and I see a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. His kisses set my heart on fire, and it’s the most delicious burn I’ve ever known.

“How’s that for a kiss?” he whispers against my mouth. I swallow and look up at him, but don’t say anything, my brain too foggy to compound words to form a coherent sentence. “That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk as he runs the pad of his thumb across my lip. “Are we good here?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Do you have a few minutes? Or do you have to get back to base?”

“For you, sweetness, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

I hold my hand out to him and he takes it, linking our fingers together. “Good, because there’s something I need to show you.”