The Scout, page 10
Turning away, I covered the box and set it aside. Time moved on, our lives went in different directions, and yet I still smiled because those two kids had created an amazing one.
Love. Love did that.
Between the photographs and the mix of emotions from the day, my energy was depleted. Before I went to bed, I sent Jimmy a message and said what I had every night since the day I knew he was growing inside of me: Good night. I love you.
Rather than wait for a reply that I wasn’t sure would come, I turned off the light and crawled into bed. But when my phone pinged, I couldn’t help but snatch it off the nightstand.
Cash: Jimmy’s sleeping, but I saw your text. I didn’t want you to think he was ignoring you. Everything is fine. We watched a movie. Talked about pitching. Little League. And how you were the team’s mom. Our son loves you. I know you know that. But since he’s asleep, I’ll say it for him.
Thanks.
Cash: Are you doing OK?
Yes, I guess. I’m not used to being alone. He’s stayed at friends’ houses, of course, but that’s usually for a night.
Cash: You can always come over for a slumber party. *wink emoji*
You’re funny.
Like a schoolgirl, I stared at my phone, and his banter started to make me feel a little better, so when my phone rang and his name flashed across the screen, it surprised me.
“Hi.”
“I’m funny?”
I smiled for the first time since this afternoon. “A little.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you miss me?” When I didn’t answer, thanks to a slurry of responses dancing in my head, he added, “Do you miss me as much as I’ve missed you? Because I have, Hannah. Maybe I didn’t realize how much I did until I saw you again. I know that sounds shitty. You were my girl.”
I glanced at the box and the memory I’d just recalled. “Your best girlfriend.”
He chuckled. “You remember.”
“Confession? I looked at our old pictures. There was the one where I had your jersey on.”
“Love that picture. I’m surprised you didn’t burn it.” Not wanting to tell him the thought had crossed my mind, I didn’t say anything. “Can I see it?”
“Sure. The next time you’re here, I’ll show you.”
“Take a picture of it and text it to me.”
“Okay, hold on a second.” Once I had the photo in hand, I did what he asked.
“Hang on, it just came through.”
I could hear him breathing, but he remained silent.
“Cash?”
“Damn, did I screw up letting you go. Prettiest girl in school.”
“Yeah. Okay. Only you thought that.”
“Because I’d kick anyone’s ass if they came near you. And I know that your claws came out when Janice and her sidekick Sally came around.”
“Susan. And they were bitches.”
Cash’s laugh brought on one of my own. “Some things never change.”
“No, I guess not.”
“Want to know what else hasn’t changed?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re still the prettiest girl I know.”
Even though he couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes.
“I decided something.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m calling my boss tomorrow and taking time off. I have this house for a couple of months, and there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
“What about the team?”
“Right now, the only team I care about is ours.”
“I . . . um . . . I don’t know what to say. I think it will be great for Jimmy.”
“It’ll be great for me. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night, Cash. And thank you for responding to my text. Means a lot to me.”
“I know, and you’re welcome. Sweet dreams, Hannah.”
He ended the call, and I finally let sleep take me.
Chapter 13
Cash
To say I was unprepared was an understatement. I didn’t have anything to make breakfast. I didn’t even know what he liked and didn’t. Or if he was more of a grab-and-go kid. Not that I had that either. Once again out of my element. Luckily, Jimmy said he and his buddies usually met in the cafeteria and grabbed something before the bell rang.
Still, I needed to go to the store. I had no idea how long he’d be at my house. Waking up to him walking down the stairs this morning was different from what I’d imagined—not that I knew what to expect. His hair was damp, his shirt untucked from loose basketball-style shorts, and his backpack slung over his shoulder.
How no one in this town had put two and two together that he was my kid surprised the hell out of me. Rather than harp on what the people around here thought, I grabbed my jump rope and headed outside to the back deck.
Back in Utah, I had a well-equipped home gym with rubber flooring and exercise equipment. But here, I had to make do with what I had. Wearing athletic shorts, no shirt, and a pair of sneakers, my earbuds playing my favorite workout playlist, I gripped the handles and took a deep breath before swinging the rope. Jumping rope was my favorite cardio. Probably because I didn’t just bounce up and down. I created routines in my head to the songs playing in my ears.
Thanks to the morning’s dewy air and the rapid movements, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Turning toward the backyard, Hannah’s house came into view through a gap in the tree line. I bounced side to side on my toes as though I were a boxer in a ring. Exhaling, I crisscrossed the rope as it whipped around me with intense speed.
Normally working out cleared my head—no way did I expect that to happen. All I could think of was the look on Hannah’s face when Jimmy walked out last night—her words that she had disappointed her son and the way she asked me to take care of him—all of it weighed heavily on me.
When the last song ended, I slowed the pace and transitioned into my cooldown stage. Glancing up, I noticed Hannah in her kitchen window . . . looking at me. How long had she been there? If I wanted to be an ass, I could lift my hand and wave, letting her know she was busted. Without any more thought, I slung my rope back, draping it over my left shoulder, and then I guess I was an ass because my right hand went in the air.
Hannah jumped back, making me laugh. I was too far away to make out the expression on her face, but when her hand rose, I had a feeling it was a pretty shade of embarrassed pink. I gave her a nod, turned, and headed back into the house to shower.
The warm water ran down my spine as my forehead rested against the cool tile. Hannah. How did everything get so out of hand? Back when we were young, we talked all the time. Usually we didn’t even need to speak to know what the other was thinking. Some people may wonder how that was possible, only knowing someone for two years, but when it came to us, it had always just clicked.
One weekend my parents went back to California, and Hannah came over after a game. We just messed around a little bit. We still hadn’t gone all the way. Although both of us were on the precipice of explosion. So there we were, Hannah in a white cotton bra with a pink bow in the middle that may as well have been a pendulum because it could hypnotize me. I had stripped down to my boxers, and I knew that the cotton did little to camouflage how I felt about her.
“You know . . . ,” she said all breathy, bringing a smile to my face. “When I saw you pitching today, it really turned me on.”
“Oh yeah?” I chided, tracing invisible circles on her shoulder. “Tell me more.”
“Well, when you struck out the second batter in the sixth inning with your four-seam fastball, a chill ran down my spine.”
“Baby, you knew what pitch I threw?”
Her soft hair tickled my chest as she nodded. “Yes.”
“Do you know what that does to me?”
The prettiest brown eyes met mine. Her chest rose and fell, and the small swell of her cleavage tempted me. She licked her lips, the thin sheet covering us shifted, and her hand wrapped around my hard dick.
As a seventeen-year-old who hadn’t had sex yet, it almost caused a mess in my shorts. Instead, I groaned. She smiled and answered my unasked question. “I’m ready.”
She was ready. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Our lips softly touched. Slow, I kept telling myself. Despite the wild beating in both our chests, we were unhurried. Maybe that was because we were nervous, but whatever the reason, it tested my resolve. Once we were void of all clothes, I worshipped her body as much as I knew how to and kissed her all over.
Hannah reached behind her, grabbed a condom out of a brand-new box I told her I had bought after the game, and handed it to me. She spread her legs, allowing me to rest between them, my forearms supporting my weight as I hovered over her.
When my girl smiled, I gently slid home—and met the euphoria that was Hannah.
Rather than let my skin prune or turn back into that horny teenager, I quickly washed up, dried off, and got on with my day.
I couldn’t imagine how Hannah felt this morning. Seeing her standing in the window, although I’d love to think that it was about me, I knew it had to be about Jimmy. Waking up without him in the house had to be tough. They had a routine, and today that changed. I knew what it was like to have a sudden change in familiarity. It could screw up the entire day.
After my injury, I felt lost. For years my days were the same: sleep, work out, eat, play baseball, eat, sleep. Naturally, I’d toss in fun every now and again, but the glamorous life that most people thought professional athletes had was mythical. I knew some guys went out of their way to have fun, which I enjoyed as much as the next guy, but work came first.
I sat on the sofa, grabbed my phone, and decided to get the ball rolling. It was still early in Utah, so I left a voice mail for the Hawks’ GM, Vince Hardy, requesting personal time. He knew that regardless of whether I was working, my eyes and ears were always open. I’d never let an opportunity pass us by. Right now, Jimmy Hall was one of them.
Since Leo was on vacation, I hesitated to call him, but I was anxious for information. I’d make it up to him and give him a bonus on top of his already generous salary.
“Hey, Cash.” His groggy voice told me I’d woken him up.
“Good morning. I’m sorry to bother you while you’re on vacation, but I need a couple of things.”
“It’s okay. I’m back home. Our youngest, Mallory, got sick, so we came home. She’s fine, had an allergic reaction to something she ate.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but glad she’s all right.”
“Thank you. So what’s up?”
“I’d like you to send me the contact information for this house.”
“Okay. May I ask why? I’ve handled the rental agreement.”
“Because I may want it longer than the three months.”
Leo cleared his throat. “Sorry, I haven’t had coffee yet. You’re staying there? Why? Cash, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
There was a lot that needed to get done today, and I didn’t have time to play twenty questions. “Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion. Send the information. Also, I tried logging on to my email, but the password changed.”
I couldn’t tell you the last time I logged on. Leo always took care of it for me.
“Cash, are you in some sort of trouble?” he asked, sounding as though he’d just slammed an energy drink.
“No, of course not. There are things I need to figure out, and that is where I’m starting. Text me the password.”
“Okay, is that it?”
“No. The box of mail I received when I was a player is in the closet in my home office. I’d like that sent to me.”
“Why? Is there something specific you’re looking for? I can go through everything.” When I didn’t reply, he added, “All right, I’ll do that today.”
“Also, I’m taking some personal time, and I’ve already left Vince a message. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Cash, this isn’t like you. Are you sure there isn’t something going on that I should know about?”
“Everything is fine. Thanks, give your family my best. Talk to you later.”
We hung up. I grabbed my keys and headed to good old Blossom Berry Falls High School to check in on a sexy art teacher and put another idea in motion.
Blossom Berry Falls’ school office hadn’t changed much since I had first walked through the door . . . the day I met Hannah. Mrs. Higgins, who was the school secretary when I went to school there, still held her post behind the tall counter. She looked up over her reading glasses and greeted me with a familiar warm smile, then slid her glasses off until they hung by the chain around her neck. “Well, if it isn’t Cash Jameson. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Everyone told me how handsome you were, but they didn’t do you justice.”
I bowed my head once and brought my hand over my chest. “Thank you, Mrs. Higgins. It’s very nice to see you, ma’am. And might I say, you haven’t aged a bit.”
She laughed and waved her hand back and forth. “Still sweet as sugar, too, I see. What brings you by?”
“I was hoping you could tell me where I could find Hannah Hall’s class.”
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? And so pretty, don’t you think?”
“Yes, very much so.”
“I knew you two were perfect for each other the day you walked into this office. It’s why I paired you together.”
Narrowing my eyes, I remembered it differently. “I thought it was because we had the same homeroom.”
She conspiratorially glanced around. “Who do you think made that happen?” She winked, and a smile spread across my face. “Heard you two got reacquainted at the reunion.”
“Reacquainted . . . yes.”
“That girl is special. And her son is a wonderful, smart boy. Well, you met him at the game. Reminds me of you a little bit.”
A lump formed in my throat. All I would need is to spill Hannah’s fourteen-year-old secret. That was the last thing I wanted for her or Jimmy. As for what I wanted, I wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was mine. As far as the sweet lady’s comment, I let it roll off my back.
“Is Hannah in class?”
“Oh, right.” She flipped through a binder on the desk, completely ignoring the computer screen in front of her, then glanced at the clock. “Miss Hannah doesn’t have a class or lunch duty this period. My guess would be she’s probably in the teacher’s lounge. It’s down the hall, past the cafeteria, turn right, and across from the bathrooms. Here’s an ID”—she reached into a basket in front of her and gave me a badge from it—“not that everyone doesn’t know who you are, but it’s the rule.”
“I’m happy to oblige. Thank you, Mrs. Higgins.”
“Please call me Annie.”
“Annie,” I repeated with a wink.
As I walked out of the office, nostalgia washed over me. The squeak of my shoes on the linoleum flooring bounced off the metal lockers, sparking memories from my past. Vibrant displays of artwork decorated the pale-yellow walls. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were from Hannah’s students or if Jimmy had created any. Did he have a talent of hers as well?
When I reached the teachers’ lounge, I pushed open the door and walked in. The room was small enough that my arrival had three heads turning and one person gasping. Hannah. She set down the book she was reading, abandoned the muffin in front of her, and hustled over to me.
She looked beautiful in a pair of dark jeans, a red shirt with the school’s logo over her left breast, and what looked like blue chalk on the side of her neck.
“Cash? What are you doing here?”
“Hello to you too,” I said. “I came to see you.”
The two female teachers who sat next to a water cooler glanced in our direction before leaning toward each other and whispering.
Hannah wrapped her fingers around my arm and pulled me to the side and into a little kitchenette. “How did you know I was in here?”
“Annie told me.” When her perfectly shaped brows pulled together, I explained, “Mrs. Higgins. And I hate to tell you this, but I think she knows about Jimmy, or at least suspects.”
“Great.” She rubbed her temples. “What else is going on? Did something happen with Jimmy last night after we spoke?”
“No. It was a calm evening. Just watched The Sandlot. And talked.”
“That’s one of his favorites. Did he recite the lines?”
“He did, yes.”
She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, but the bell is going to ring soon, and I have a class. Why were you looking for me?”
The melancholy etched on her face told me everything I already knew. She missed her boy. “I would like to invite you to dinner at my place tonight. Me, you, and Jimmy.”
Her eyes brightened. “I’d love that, thank you. I know it was only one night, but I missed him so much. I barely slept. He might not be too receptive to the idea. He can get stubborn.”
“Wonder where he gets that from?”
She cocked her hip to the side, and I couldn’t stifle a small laugh.
“Kidding.” Sort of. Not really. “I know you were upset. It kept me up last night, knowing you were sad. I think it would be good if we all talked it out and stopped casting blame, but that needs to start with us, Hannah.”
Her eyes shifted to the door when it opened and two teachers walked in.
“We can talk about that more later. Also, I contacted my assistant. He’s going to send the box of fan mail from my house. The phone will just be a lost cause. I can’t prove that I didn’t get calls. You’d need to take my word for that.”
“Okay.” The bell sounded, and she nervously smiled. “I need to go.”
Without much thought, I reached forward and ran my thumb down the side of her neck, smearing the blue line away. Her pulse thrummed beneath my finger. Pulling it away, I showed her the tint I’d gathered.
