Double Play
Page 83
Yes. She was getting a real feel for him, thick and straining for release inside her.
“Yeah, like that,” he whispered gruffly in her ear, and it hit her like a freight train, making her cry out again, hearing him do the same as he pumped into her one last time. It was earth-shattering, and her mouth, disconnected from her brain, let three little words slip right out of her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I love you.”
Above her, Pace went utterly still, and oh God, she did, too.
Then he lifted his head, slipped his hands into her hair, and tilted her head to his. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, still gasping for air. “I said your name. And then . . . and then I just stopped talking.”
Eyes locked on hers, he slowly shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, then pretend I said nothing, the way we used to pretend that this was just an odd, inexplicable chemistry.”
He stayed still, holding her against him as he supported the both of them, his arms still quaking faintly, his torso damp, his eyes opaque. “Holly—”
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Pace.”
Looking staggered, he leaned in and kissed her softly, whispered her name, and then nuzzled her throat.
And very slowly, she relaxed. He was going to let it go, and in relief she curled into him.
“Okay, first,” he murmured, “I hope you got the license plate of whatever that was that just hit us.”
Yeah. That’s exactly how it felt. A damn big truck. See? It wasn’t her fault. The next time they were together, she’d simply tape her mouth shut first, that’s all. Or maybe she’d do it starting right now—
“And second—” he said, much more seriously, meeting her gaze.
Oh God. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit—
“Holly, I—”
The knock at the door startled the both of them. As did Chipper’s voice coming through it.
“Pace?”
Suitably distracted from wondering what he’d been about to say, Holly looked at Pace in horror because she was naked. Naked, with a twelve-year-old boy knocking on the door. “We lost track of the time!”
“Yeah.” He helped her off the table. “The minute you took off your top, I lost all control of my thought processes.”
No time for her bra, she grabbed her tank top as Chipper banged on the door. “Pace? You there?”
“Hold onto your shorts, buddy,” Pace called back, tossing Holly hers.
“I am not going without panties again!” she hissed, but then slid on her shorts sans panties for speed. Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” Pace whispered softly, giving her one last hard kiss as Chipper kept knocking. “So sorry.”
She could do nothing but laugh in disbelief as he slipped her panties in his pocket, looking so damn sexy as he smiled at her in a way that had the love she hadn’t known she felt brimming to the surface. Yeah, it’d really snuck up on her and grabbed her by the heartstrings.
Which meant in spite of her best intentions, she had a world of hurt coming her way.
Chapter 27
The charm of baseball is that dull as it may be on the field, it is endlessly fascinating as a rehash.
—Jim Murray
Chipper and the guys were ecstatic at the news that Pace had purchased the park and were arguing over who was going to help him fix up the building while Pace struggled to get his head on straight. Not easy, because Holly stood there in her shorts, once again wearing no panties.
“I’m great with power tools,” River said. “I helped my older brother tear down a car once.”
Jesus. “Stay away from stolen cars, River.”
“ ’Kay. So can I use the power tools?”
“Me, too,” Chipper said. “I’m helping, too.”
“You’re all helping,” Pace told them. “And then we’ll put out the word about baseball clinics, and more kids will come, and maybe we can start a league.”
“Who’s going to coach us?”
“Me. I’m going to coach you, and by the time you get to high school, the coach there will be begging you to try out.”
Chipper grinned and followed as Pace walked Holly out to her car. The others came, too. Pace’s legs were still wobbling from the climax that had nearly blown his hair off. The lack of underwear wasn’t helping, but there was a bigger reason he couldn’t catch his breath or balance.
She loved him.
She.
Loved.
Him.
Never in a million years would he have guessed that they’d get to this point. He felt unprepared and disoriented and . . .
Well, he wasn’t sure exactly. But he had butterflies in his stomach, and somehow his heart had gotten on the outside of his ribs. He might have mentioned these odd symptoms to her, but he had five kids hanging on their every word and a game to get to.
A game he was going to have to prepare for, somehow.
“Okay, well . . .” Holly turned toward her car. “I’ll see you later.”
“I’m glad you took Pace back,” Chipper said. “I’m glad you’re his girlfriend again.”
Pace could tell by the look on Holly’s face that she was trying to formulate a denial, a denial for his sake, to protect him, and that killed him. She was smart and sweet and loyal as hell, and she loved him—not because he was a baseball player, but in spite of it.
“Yeah, like that,” he whispered gruffly in her ear, and it hit her like a freight train, making her cry out again, hearing him do the same as he pumped into her one last time. It was earth-shattering, and her mouth, disconnected from her brain, let three little words slip right out of her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I love you.”
Above her, Pace went utterly still, and oh God, she did, too.
Then he lifted his head, slipped his hands into her hair, and tilted her head to his. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, still gasping for air. “I said your name. And then . . . and then I just stopped talking.”
Eyes locked on hers, he slowly shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, then pretend I said nothing, the way we used to pretend that this was just an odd, inexplicable chemistry.”
He stayed still, holding her against him as he supported the both of them, his arms still quaking faintly, his torso damp, his eyes opaque. “Holly—”
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Pace.”
Looking staggered, he leaned in and kissed her softly, whispered her name, and then nuzzled her throat.
And very slowly, she relaxed. He was going to let it go, and in relief she curled into him.
“Okay, first,” he murmured, “I hope you got the license plate of whatever that was that just hit us.”
Yeah. That’s exactly how it felt. A damn big truck. See? It wasn’t her fault. The next time they were together, she’d simply tape her mouth shut first, that’s all. Or maybe she’d do it starting right now—
“And second—” he said, much more seriously, meeting her gaze.
Oh God. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit—
“Holly, I—”
The knock at the door startled the both of them. As did Chipper’s voice coming through it.
“Pace?”
Suitably distracted from wondering what he’d been about to say, Holly looked at Pace in horror because she was naked. Naked, with a twelve-year-old boy knocking on the door. “We lost track of the time!”
“Yeah.” He helped her off the table. “The minute you took off your top, I lost all control of my thought processes.”
No time for her bra, she grabbed her tank top as Chipper banged on the door. “Pace? You there?”
“Hold onto your shorts, buddy,” Pace called back, tossing Holly hers.
“I am not going without panties again!” she hissed, but then slid on her shorts sans panties for speed. Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” Pace whispered softly, giving her one last hard kiss as Chipper kept knocking. “So sorry.”
She could do nothing but laugh in disbelief as he slipped her panties in his pocket, looking so damn sexy as he smiled at her in a way that had the love she hadn’t known she felt brimming to the surface. Yeah, it’d really snuck up on her and grabbed her by the heartstrings.
Which meant in spite of her best intentions, she had a world of hurt coming her way.
Chapter 27
The charm of baseball is that dull as it may be on the field, it is endlessly fascinating as a rehash.
—Jim Murray
Chipper and the guys were ecstatic at the news that Pace had purchased the park and were arguing over who was going to help him fix up the building while Pace struggled to get his head on straight. Not easy, because Holly stood there in her shorts, once again wearing no panties.
“I’m great with power tools,” River said. “I helped my older brother tear down a car once.”
Jesus. “Stay away from stolen cars, River.”
“ ’Kay. So can I use the power tools?”
“Me, too,” Chipper said. “I’m helping, too.”
“You’re all helping,” Pace told them. “And then we’ll put out the word about baseball clinics, and more kids will come, and maybe we can start a league.”
“Who’s going to coach us?”
“Me. I’m going to coach you, and by the time you get to high school, the coach there will be begging you to try out.”
Chipper grinned and followed as Pace walked Holly out to her car. The others came, too. Pace’s legs were still wobbling from the climax that had nearly blown his hair off. The lack of underwear wasn’t helping, but there was a bigger reason he couldn’t catch his breath or balance.
She loved him.
She.
Loved.
Him.
Never in a million years would he have guessed that they’d get to this point. He felt unprepared and disoriented and . . .
Well, he wasn’t sure exactly. But he had butterflies in his stomach, and somehow his heart had gotten on the outside of his ribs. He might have mentioned these odd symptoms to her, but he had five kids hanging on their every word and a game to get to.
A game he was going to have to prepare for, somehow.
“Okay, well . . .” Holly turned toward her car. “I’ll see you later.”
“I’m glad you took Pace back,” Chipper said. “I’m glad you’re his girlfriend again.”
Pace could tell by the look on Holly’s face that she was trying to formulate a denial, a denial for his sake, to protect him, and that killed him. She was smart and sweet and loyal as hell, and she loved him—not because he was a baseball player, but in spite of it.
