Rundown (Curveball Book 2) (11 page)

“
Impossible,”
I mutter. 

Unable
to keep a lid on my anxieties, I ask a question that’s been
hounding me relentlessly.  “What if the Red Sox don’t come
back with an offer and the Giants are your only option?”

“
Let’s
cross that bridge when we get to it,” he replies as if he’d
anticipated what I’d ask.  “I’m more or less having this
meeting to keep my options open and to put pressure on the Red Sox. 
Brett’s been talking with the management.  Even if they only
extend me for a year or two, I’ll take it.  No matter what, my
priorities are here.”

Priorities
plural.
  He really does think of us as a package deal. 
The thought has me close to tears. 
Get yourself together. 
He’s got enough to worry about without you making him feel worse.
 
I clear my throat and nod, staring into my mug, because if I look at
him he’ll read my fears as if they’re being displayed across a
billboard.  Or worse, he’ll think that I have doubts about our
relationship, which I obviously don’t.

“
Hey,”
he tips my chin up so that I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Stop
worrying.  You and I being together is non-negotiable. 
We’ll make it work.  Trust me.”

“
I
do.”

“
Good. 
But if you need something to take your mind off things, I’d be more
than happy to distract you.”

“
Not
everything can be resolved with those lips,” I chide, softly
kissing his very delectable lips. 
Who am I kidding?
 
He’s making everything better right now and we both know it.

“
I
disagree, but I’d be happy to rely on other methods if you’d
prefer.”  He pushes against me so that his rock hard length is
pressed into my side.  

My
internal temperature rises about twenty degrees just thinking about
all the ways he could sidetrack me.  “We should probably join
everyone in the dining room before one of us forgets that we aren’t
alone.”

He
playfully bites my earlobe, igniting a small fire that blazes a trail
straight to my core.  The heat of his breath against my neck
further intensifies my desire, making it nearly impossible to
function
.  Damn him.
 

“
Eat
quickly,” he commands.  “I’m starving, and not for
breakfast.” 

My
appetite has vanished and I could use a cold shower.  If I
make it to the table without combusting, it’ll be a miracle. 

After
getting Colin and Aubrey on the bus, Drew and I chased Maddie at the
park for just shy of two hours.  By the time we dropped her off
at the house with Sarah, I was exhausted, and that was hours ago. 
Now, I’m practically comatose. 

Sweet
drenched and breathless, I lay sandwiched between Drew’s body and
the granite countertop in his kitchen, my legs dangling over the
side.  All I wanted was a drink.  One glass of water. 
But before I could open the cupboard, Drew had me hoisted up and flat
on my back.  At that point I couldn’t remember what the hell
I’d been doing, and quite frankly I didn’t care.  What I do
know is that Drew is a man of his word.  Not only is he
very
considerate, he’s proven it to me several times.  Once the
high wore off from my fourth climax, I started wondering if
death-by-orgasm was actually a thing because I swear I’m close. 

Groaning,
Drew presses off of me and rests his weight on his elbows, hovering
inches above my face.  The loss of his body heat combined with
my bare backside being flush against the cool countertop sends
shivers down my spine.  Rubbing one of my arms, Drew watches me,
looking as in need of a nap as I feel.

“
If
I don’t finish packing now I’ll miss my flight.”

“
I
can think of worse things,” I reply.  “In fact, I’ll make
it very worth your while if you stay.”

“
And
how would you do that?”

“
I’ll
tell you right after my nap.”

I
whimper, stretching beneath him.  Drew’s eyes trail downward
to my exposed breasts and his mouth follows suit.  He nuzzles my
nipple before taking it in his mouth, coaxing a different kind of
groan.

“
You’re
not making this easy for me, you know?” he says, pressing his
erection against me.  “In fact, you’re making this
very
hard.”

“
I
think you’re supposed to call for help after four hours,” I
tease.  
How the hell can he be ready to go again?

“
Like
I’d ever need a pill when I have you.”  Drew licks his lips
like a lion about to ravage its prey. 

“
Don’t
even think about it,” I warn.  “I’m not going to be able
to sit until you’re back as it is.”

“
Good. 
That means you’ll think of me often.” 

“
I
always do.”

Drew
caresses my hair as he stares at the space to the side of my head,
the corners of his mouth pulling down.  I’m 100% committed to
our relationship, and I know he is too. We’ve gotten to a really
good place, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t both vulnerable
to the unknown.  He doesn’t want to go on this trip, and I
don’t want him to leave; yet he needs to do this. 

“
I
love you,” I say, cupping his face.  “You know that, right?”

His
nod is less than convincing. 

“
Do
you want me to come with you to the airport?”  We decided the
other day that it’d be best for me not to go with him to the
airport due to all the press related to his last flight. 

“
No,
I’ll be fine,” he replies, his gaze locking with mine.  Drew
kisses me quickly and then shoves away from the counter, wearing
nothing but a forced smile.  “Come on.”

Less
than fifteen minutes later, we’re out the door.  Drew walks me
to the car and I do my best to put on a happy front.  He opens
the door but doesn’t drop my hand.  I take his and bring it to
a rest over my heart, silently telling him what I’m too emotional
to say. 
All yours. 
We tell each other we love one
another countless times, and then I reluctantly pry myself from his
grasp and get in the car.  If I don't initiate leaving, he
really will miss his flight.

Once
I’m seated, I roll down the window to get one more kiss.  “Try
to stay out of trouble,” I tease him.

“
I’ll
do my best.  If anything happens, I’m sure you’ll know about
it before I do,” he mocks, not knowing that I already turned off
the Google Alerts.

“
Remember
that,” I warn.

The
kids are tucked in and fast asleep, and like always, I’m wired, my
mind racing at a million miles an hour.  Drew texted around 8pm
before his flight took off.  Since then, I’ve spent my time
trying to tire myself out by reading, but it’s no use because I’m
constantly checking the status of his flight online. Unable to sleep,
I head downstairs at 11:30pm and make myself a cup of tea. 
Holding it just under my nose, I inhale the scent of chamomile,
praying it will calm me down like the packaging claims, and take a
tentative sip.  What I really should do is take something to
knock me out since there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep until
Drew’s plane touches down in a few hours.

I
leisurely walk through the downstairs clutching my hot mug, and end
up in Mark’s old office.  I sink into one of the oversized
leather chairs, adorned with antique brass nail head trim, and slowly
gaze around the room.  The love he had for our country is
evident in all aspects of this room.  Historical novels and
biographies on former presidents line the bookshelves that span the
majority of the wall opposite his desk.  The only interruption
being the fireplace and an artistic rendition of the American flag
that hangs above it.  On the wall behind me there’s a framed
copy of the Declaration of Independence, and a marble replica of
Mount Rushmore that sits upon the desk.  Even the humidor I got
him for our fifth wedding anniversary has the presidential seal.
 It’s a historical buff’s version of a man cave.  If
he’d been more charismatic, he’d have been a great politician. 

I
walk around his desk, take a seat in his chair and place my mug on
his desk, a gesture that would start a fight if he were here. 
Thinking how perfect this room could be as a reading den with the
right color paint and décor, I decide that this will be the next
space I purge.  Opening his desk drawer, I observe the perfectly
organized folders containing our taxes, bills and other important
documents.  Being the type that does everything online, I really
have no need for this kind of a system, or the majority of the desks
content.  As my fingers run over the countless tabbed file
folders, I fail to remember the last time I looked at any of this. 
All of this has been untouched for the most part since Dosdell was
here. 

Dosdell
. 

I
cringe at the unpleasant reminder of a person I’d like to forget. 
Since I definitely can’t sleep now, I fetch a few boxes and bags to
get started.  Not wanting to wake the kids by using the
shredder, I start the fireplace, toss in the mounds of unwanted paper
and watch them slowly burn. 

Hours
later, the books and decorations are boxed and the desk is void of
files, except for a few work related documents that I’ll give to
Vivian when we have lunch this week.   Satisfied, I leave
the office and head to the sink to wash my hands and turn off the
light. 
Maybe I can finally sleep.
 I dry my hands
and start pulling the shade down, only to freeze in place when
something outside catches my eye. 

Squinting,
I spot something small glowing in the distance that rises and falls
every 15-20 seconds. 
What the hell? 
I watch
carefully for another full minute when the motion registers.  I
gasp, chills coursing throughout my body.  My hand reflexively
flies to my mouth to stifle the scream that ends up trapped in my
throat. 
Holy shit.
  A person is standing in the
trees at the edge of my backyard, smoking. 

Please
be hallucinating.
 

Unconvinced
that my mind is playing tricks on me, I call to Corinne whose
sleeping two rooms away.  My voice barely comes out as a
whimper, as if it’s hiding like I wish I were.  If I wasn’t
paralyzed with fear, or afraid that the image before me would
disappear, I’d physically go get her, but in this moment I’ve
been rendered immobile.