Playing Fastball, page 14
“He’s not my Lennie.” The corners of Tina’s lips turned down with a definite scowl.
Okay, so that went too far. Women didn’t understand why men got ticked off when they let other men treat them badly.
The waiter delivered their drinks and asked if they needed more time with the menu.
“I’m ready to order,” Timmy said. “But I think my date might need more time. What’s your special this evening?”
The waiter spilled off a load of French which he then translated to mean seafood topped with caviar or truffles and high-end steaks, Wagyu, Kobe, and organic veal.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Tina said.
“Then I’m having what you’re having.”
Tina’s eyebrows pinched together. “You’re making this difficult.”
“Let’s make this simple,” Timmy said. “Fish, fowl, veggie, beef, or pork?”
“I’ll give you two a few more minutes,” the waiter said. “Would you like another drink?”
“We’ll hold off on that,” Timmy said. “You can recommend wine pairings for our dinner.”
After the waiter departed, Tina pointed to the items on the menu. “I can’t believe anyone spends so much on a plate of food.”
“I should have told them to give you the menu without the prices.” Timmy swiped the menu from her. “Do you honestly think I can’t pay?”
She bit her lip, and his attention was focused on her sweet, kissable mouth. A faint blush rose over her cheeks as he stared at her, and again, Timmy had no clue what was going on in her head.
She was so different from him. Her upbringing was nothing like his. She’d never been pampered or spoiled, okay, maybe his father came close when they had their adventures together, but still, she was more suspicious than a junkyard dog.
“I’m going to have the most expensive item on the menu,” Timmy said. “The applewood smoked sturgeon topped with black truffles and caviar.”
“Sounds awful.” Tina wrinkled her cute nose. “Guess if you’re having that, I’ll have the herb roasted squab, which I think is a fancy name for chicken.”
It was actually a baby pigeon, but Timmy had a feeling she was afraid of trying new things or would think it too expensive and exotic.
“Good choice,” he said, signaling the waiter.
After the waiter took their order, Tina seemed to relax. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and sat up straighter. “Thanks. I’ll enjoy this meal and not worry about the price.”
“Didn’t my father ever take you to expensive restaurants?” Timmy wondered aloud.
“We always went out for Chinese, and they don’t go for fish eggs and stuff like that,” Tina said. “I hope he’s not too upset at me for canceling on him.”
“Hey, he used to be a workaholic. He skipped so many things when I was young because he had to work. My mom, though, she went to all my practices and games.”
“Tell me about your mother.”
“I was lucky.” He broke a crust of bread and buttered it. “My mother was very domestic. She always wanted a lot of children, but after having me, she wasn’t able to have another one. I guess she had a medical issue. She put all her attention onto me.”
“Did she let you do your own thing?”
“She did, to a point, but pretty much she kept tabs on me and made sure I had everything I needed. She knew what I wanted to eat before I even thought of it, and she had my clothes, shoes, and book bag set out every morning before I went to school. She always had a snack ready when I came home from school, and she drove me or went with me everywhere I needed to go.”
“You’re very lucky.”
“Yes, I am,” Timmy admitted.
“I guess I should be happy my mother’s still alive and she’s out of jail,” Tina said, taking a sip of her cocktail. “I just hope she doesn’t get into trouble and end up back there.”
“Does she do that often? Go right back after getting released?”
“Yeah, she does.” Tina’s lips pursed. “I rarely see her because she always gets into trouble again.”
“Maybe we can keep her out of jail this time,” Timmy said. “She shouldn’t be drinking so much. You shouldn’t have let her.”
“Let her? How can I control her?”
“There’s that.” Timmy shrugged, wishing there was something he could do. “What does she usually do to end up back in the slammer?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” Tina tipped her drink back and finished it. “I never really felt she was my mother. She always said someday, we’ll be happy and together, that we’ll do all the fun things she promised me when I was a little girl. Go to the zoo. Feed the ducks at the park. Ride a roller coaster. Eat cotton candy at a fair until we puke. But it never happens.”
“Maybe this time will be different,” Timmy said. “You still have your mother. You shouldn’t give up on her. Why don’t you plan a trip with her? Take her to the zoo or the county fair?”
“She’d rather drink.”
“Tell her she can’t drink if she wants to do the mother daughter things. Set up some rules.” Timmy took out a pen and scribbled on a napkin. “No drinking before six. No public drinking. No hanging out at your workplace. Every day off, she has to go on a field trip with you and behave.”
“You seriously think she’d follow my rules?”
“I think she regrets missing out on you growing up, and wants to be your mother again,” Timmy said. “I’m betting she wants to do all those things she promised.”
“She never kept any of her promises. Never did anything except lock me in the closet while she partied with her lovers. I always got their table scraps, and if she went somewhere fun, she threw me a T-shirt, or brought me a candied apple or a bag of chips. You don’t get it, Timmy. She had all those fun times with all of her men, but she never let me go on any of her dates, even to Disneyland. She left me in the hotel room.” Tears swam in Tina’s eyes. She blinked hard and bit her lip again.
“I’m sorry.” Timmy reached for her hand and rubbed it. “You can’t undo the past. It’s done and happened. But she wants to do things with you now. At least give her a chance, and you won’t feel bad if something were to happen to her and she never came back.”
A tear spilled from the corner of Tina’s eye, and she dabbed at it with a napkin. “I’ve been waiting to forgive her for years, but she never says she’s sorry. She never asks for forgiveness. Instead, she walks in acting like we have a relationship and she has a right to stay in my apartment. That I have to take care of her when she’s never taken care of me.”
Timmy pulled her close into his arms and rocked her slowly. He hadn’t meant to expose her pain, but at the same time, it was something she needed to get through if she were to relax enough to enjoy life and trust others to love and care for her.
Her sobs tore at his heart and he felt pressure in his eyes as he imagined how lost she’d been, locked in a closet and rejected by a mother who, for whatever reason, was too selfish to love and care for her little girl.
No wonder she didn’t believe he was attracted to her and cared for her. Likely, no one had ever cared about her, other than to use her or abuse her.
“I’ll help you, Tina,” he murmured in her ear. “I care about you, and I want you to be happy. I want to paint a smile on your face, and I want to show you how it feels to be appreciated.”
“I want that too,” she said, choking and hiccupping. “But you don’t truly understand what it’s like to be me.”
“I don’t have to understand to give you my appreciation.” He kissed the tears running down her cheeks, and when she turned her lips to his, he gladly showed just how much he appreciated her by kissing her with both tender desire and unmuted passion.
TWENTY-FOUR
Tina dried her tears and blinked at the tiny chicken on her plate. It was decorated artfully with spears of asparagus, curlicues of other vegetables, and drizzled sauce in a pattern. But it was really small. Lucky she wasn’t hungry.
Meanwhile, Timmy’s sturgeon, caviar, and truffle concoction looked horrendous. The fish layer sat on a tan sauce with lumpy particles. On top of the fish was a layer of black fungus, followed by a white concoction on which the piles of tiny, black eggs lay. Grossest of all were the sprouts growing out of the fish eggs.
“Yum,” Timmy said, inhaling the fishy aroma. “Want to try some of the caviar?”
“Uh, no,” Tina said. “But I’ll take a picture of it before you eat it.”
Timmy dutifully posed for a picture. He was probably used to it, being an only child with doting parents.
“Let me take one of you,” Timmy said.
“Uh, my eyes are all messed up, and I’m not dressed like anything.” Tina shrugged. “I’m not photogenic.”
“You look great to me.” Timmy put his arm around her and extended his other arm for a selfie.
Tina told herself to relax and enjoy the dinner. After all, she’d already boohooed all over Timmy, and he hadn’t run off screaming.
Maybe he really did think she looked great—at least good enough to bed for the night.
Most guys didn’t particularly care how a woman looked if they were horny enough. And even though Lennie often criticized her for her posture, her flyaway hair, or if she had a zit or her piercing was infected, he didn’t mind it at all for the few minutes of sex he indulged in.
Tina smiled for the camera and figured Timmy should get what he wanted, since he was paying for the dinner.
“Let me text these to my dad and then we can eat,” Timmy said.
“Why would you want your dad to see us here?” Tiny alarms rang behind Tina’s eardrums. Was he taunting his father? “I get the feeling he doesn’t want us going out.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Timmy said. “I’m old enough to date whoever I want. Let’s eat before the food gets too cold.”
“I’m eager to try the wine they paired with this,” Tina agreed. She didn’t want to dive too deep on the conflict between Timmy and his father over her. It was all too weird, especially since they seemed to be jealous of each other.
“Eat, drink, and be merry.” Timmy raised his glass of wine and clinked it with Tina’s.
The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant and light conversation. Timmy was quite entertaining, talking about his collection of Chinese snuff bottles. They were made of wood, bone, ivory, porcelain, stone, metal, and enamel. His favorite one was made of glass, painted on the inside with a tiny brush. Timmy pulled it out of his pocket and showed it to Tina.
It was small, fitting in her palm, and showed a circle of Chinese children playing Ring Around The Rosie. Tina pulled off the top and sniffed inside.
It was empty.
“Did you think I’d have drugs inside?” Timmy asked.
“No, but I’ve never had snuff before.”
“It’s powdered tobacco because smoking was illegal in China,” Timmy explained. “Snuff bottles were quite in fashion back in the Manchurian dynasty. Miniature works of art. I should show you my collection some time.”
“I’d love to see them,” Tina said, setting the exquisite snuff bottle on the table. “I never would have thought a professional baseball player would collect snuff bottles.”
“I bet you think I only collect baseballs,” he said, taking a ball from his jacket pocket. “April 28, 2015. My first no-hitter against the New York Minutes.”
Tina reached out for the ball and turned it around in her hand. “How can you tell? There’s nothing written on it.”
“Believe me, I know each stitch, scratch, and scuff.”
“How many of them do you have?” Tina asked, handing the ball back to him.
“Two during the season, and one for spring training,” Timmy said. “I always save the baseball I used for the last out.”
“I hope your collection grows, and you never stop surprising me,” Tina said.
“What about you?” he asked, putting the ball and snuff bottle back into his pocket. “What are you into besides puppies and dangerous activities?”
“Those two keep me busy enough,” Tina said. “I love speed. Flying, falling, going fast. Makes me feel alive and free.”
“You’re fearless.”
“Not really. It’s so scary it gives me a high. My heart feels like exploding. My mind blanks out and all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs and laugh at the same time.”
“We’re definitely going skydiving.”
“Except we’ll each be with an instructor. We won’t be able to jump together.”
“Then we’ll do double bungee jumping, tied together.”
“Oh, wow, definitely.” Chills and tingles sizzled up Tina’s spine as she rubbed her hands. “I might get a heart attack on that one.”
“We’re doing it,” Timmy said. “No weaseling out.”
Tina held up a hand for a high-five, and Timmy slapped her one.
Adrenaline and fear amped up her pulse, and she felt exhilarated just thinking about being in Timmy’s arms as they fell off a bridge together.
Timmy couldn’t remember ever having so much fun on a date with a woman before. Usually, the entire dinner was a prelude to some serious sexual gymnastics, followed by an awkward goodbye and the walk of shame, but as he walked Tina up the stairs to her apartment over his garage, he decided it wasn’t time for him to move fast.
After the bout of tears and the doubts and fears Tina had expressed about anyone potentially caring for her for longer than a night, Timmy vowed to prove her wrong.
Besides, the conversation was special, and Tina had revealed so much about herself, he didn’t want to ruin it with sexual awkwardness.
They stopped on the landing in front of her doorway.
The desert night was chilly, a quarter moon was up, and the air was crisp and dry. Tina turned to face him, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“I had a good time tonight. Thanks.”
“It was all thanks to you.” He tipped her chin up and stared into her spritely face, so pretty and pert. “Let’s do it again soon.”
“Sure. Would you like to come in for some coffee?” Her voice quavered, even as she smiled and licked her lips.
“I’d love to, but if I drank coffee, I’d never get any sleep, and I have to get up early for a pitching clinic.” His gaze took in her wide eyes and luscious lips, and he leaned in for the goodnight kiss.
She latched onto him, her hands weaving around the back of his neck and her soft, round breasts pressed against his chest. When he kissed her, she opened up to his probing tongue, and then he was drinking her in, unable to get enough of the way her lips tangled with his, and the way her back arched to press against him.
Sitting next to her at the candlelit table in the cool garden had stirred a longing passion that he’d never experienced. A desire to prolong his time with her, to drag out each experience, to savor every long and lingering moment. Yet at the same time, firecrackers exploded in every nerve of his body, and his body wanted action fast. His hands wandered over her curves, touching and squeezing, and his arousal leapt and pulsed, yearning to be freed.
Breathlessly, Timmy paused the frenzied kissing, moaning and sighing his regret. If he stepped into that apartment, he would have her thrown onto the bed and mounted in no time flat.
It would be hot and frantic. Crazed and consuming, and his body needed the release. Craved it. But then, he’d miss the slow burn and the waiting that would make everything so much more worth it. The largest pearls took the longest time to build, and just like Beijing wasn’t built in one day, figuring out a puzzling woman like Tina would take longer than popping a birthday balloon. Yeah, he could bed her and be done with it, but he wasn’t the type to pick on defenseless kittens and puppies.
Tina was as vulnerable and blind as little Donut. Maybe it was the way he was brought up, or the entire honor thing in his culture, but he’d offered Tina friendship, and he didn’t do and dump friends—especially ones who were also friends with his father.
“Good night, Tina.” Each word was stuck in his throat, but he had to leave before his desire for her muddled his good intentions.
“You don’t want to come in?” she panted as he let her go.
“If I come in, I’ll never leave. But not tonight. We’ve both had a long day, and you have a mother to worry about. I think Donut’s in the main house with Blondie. Let me check on him and bring him back if you want.” He touched her smooth cheek and reluctantly turned down the stairs.
“I’ll go get him.” Her words were clipped as she pushed by him and hurried down the steps.
He followed her, his body hollering in revolt at not being wrapped in a hot, sexy, and willing woman. Had he messed up by not accepting her invitation?
Timmy watched her pick up a sleeping Donut from Blondie’s doggie bed and cuddle him to her face. She kissed him and crooned over him, letting him lick her all over her lips.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said as she stepped out the door. “Make sure to lock the door after me.”
TWENTY-FIVE
A swing and a miss and another strike out.
Timmy caught the return ball from the catcher and grinned as the radar gun numbers flashed across the scoreboard. A hundred and one point three miles per hour.
The crowd cheered the reading and somewhere, up in the stands, Tina and Baba were standing and clapping.
The next batter, a power hitter with muscles of a bodybuilder, sauntered up to the plate.
Timmy narrowed his eyes and peered at the hulk. Not a problem. Men like that underestimated Timmy at every turn.
While he wasn’t as tall and as bulky as the big, power pitchers, Timmy knew how to stretch the entire length of his five-foot-eleven frame and whip the ball farther and faster due to his incredible flexibility.
He practically leaped at the hitter, letting his arm fling around until it snapped the ball down the batter’s throat.
