CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

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TRAVIS PARKED HIS bike outside Reynold's Beer and Spirits, behind a beat-up green garbage dumpster.

Parker Street ran east/west near the southern edge of Green Hills. At one time, this part of town would have been referred to as the wrong side of the tracks. Hell, for all he knew, the nickname hadn't changed; from what his eyes told him, nothing else in eleven years had.

At least not for the better.

The sidewalks—what there were of them—were little more than a series of weed-filled cracks obliterating the cement. Dangerous to navigate if you didn't watch every step.

Travis watched as a painfully thin man exited the liquor store, a brown paper bag clutched in one hand as he lit a cigarette with the other. A young boy and girl jumped to their feet and followed the shuffling man as he crossed the street.

Once, Travis hadn't given neighborhoods like this a second thought. Nor had he come so far that he turned his nose up at people who—day after day—struggled just to get by.

However, when a man with two poorly dressed children used what little money he could scrounge up for a bottle of booze and a pack of cigarettes instead of food, his sympathy was sorely tested.

The details of the man's life were a mystery. But one thing was certain, the kids—whether emotionally or physically—were the only true victims.

Travis' thoughts turned to Delaney and the shelter she planned to sponsor. Whatever she needed, he'd help. All the perks that came to him as a successful athlete were great. But he'd found the real reward for all his years of hard work was the good he could do with his money and celebrity.

Travis locked away his helmet, pocketing the key. After spending so long in Seattle, he'd almost forgotten how mild November was in this part of South Carolina. Today was a perfect example. At home, the sky would be overcast and rainy. The temperature barely topping fifty degrees. Green Hills was sunny and warm. Close to seventy with the sky a clear, bright blue.

Weather-wise, Travis was willing to concede the victory to Green Hills. In every other way, he preferred Seattle. By a wide, insurmountable margin.

One check of his watch told Travis he was right on time. After a few phone calls, he found out that Millie Charles worked as a cashier at Reynold's Beer and Spirits.

If she stood three feet in front of him—naked as a jaybird—Travis wouldn't have recognized the woman. However, his sources told him Millie was Eddie Hayes' girlfriend. And Eddie took her to lunch every day at eleven forty-five. Without fail. Like clockwork.

Eddie didn't keep him waiting long.

Travis heard the pickup truck well before the late model Ford came into view. Music—Beyoncé if he wasn't mistaken—blasted with pounding authority through the closed windows. Eddie always loved his music. By all that was fair, he should be stone deaf. Or well on his way.

The truck came to a stop a few feet away, the music going silent the second the engine stopped.

"Take a wrong turn on that fancy bike of yours, superstar?" Eddie asked as he exited the driver's seat, his work boots sending up a small cloud of dirt as they hit the ground.

"I need to talk to you."

Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, Eddie's eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses. However, the curling of his lip was exactly what Travis expected. Snide and unwelcoming.

Had Eddie always sported a permanent sneer—even as a boy? Or was the unflattering expression something he'd acquired in recent years. Since Travis didn't give a rat's ass, he didn't tax his brain trying to remember.

"Talk is cheap. If you want some of my time, I charge two-fifty an hour. However, for an old friend, I'll make it an even three hundred."

Travis hadn't lost his talent for solving math problems in a flash. Five dollars a second? If he thought their former friendship had meant anything, Eddie's less than subtle joke gave him the answer. As soon as Travis' reputation as a skilled shortstop grew from the borders of their little town to a wider audience, Eddie saw dollars signs. Apparently, he still did.

Pulling out his wallet, Travis took out two twenties. Forty seconds would be plenty to say what he had to say.

"Stay away from Delaney. And tell your boss to do the same."

With time to spare, he tossed the money at Eddie's feet.

Eddie grabbed Travis when he would have turned to leave.

"What the fuck is so special about that bitch?" Eddie demanded.

"Her name is Delaney," Travis hissed, jerking his arm away.

"Delaney." Eddie spit out the word. "I wish to hell she'd never been born."

"My world is a better place because she was," Travis said, never expecting Eddie to understand.

"And mine would be completely different."

"Bullshit. She didn't do anything to you."

"How many times did we talk about getting out of this town?" Arms at his sides, Eddie's hands balled into fists. "You were going to conquer professional baseball, and I would be right there by your side making certain nobody took advantage."

Travis remembered. Luckily, he'd realized in time that Eddie wanted to keep others away so he could play the biggest leech of all.

"After you became obsessed with Delaney, your old friends weren't good enough. I wasn't good enough. You changed. And not for the better."

"I'd already changed. You were just too busy partying and imagining how you would spend my future earnings to notice."

"We were a team." Eddie insisted. He snapped his fingers. "Then like that, you left me behind. In this shithole town."

"I grew up, Eddie. You didn't. You proved that when—out of spite and few bucks—you sold Delaney out to Munch Brill."

"She survived. Unfortunately."

Red colored Travis' vision. He took a step toward Eddie, intent on shutting the bastard's foul mouth.

Hitting him in the middle of the chest, Eddie gave Travis a shove.

"I'm a lot tougher than I used to be. Tougher than you, superstar." With a derisive snort, Eddie pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. "I don't have people who cater to my every whim. Clean my house. Cook my food. Carry my luggage. Wipe my ass."

The longer Eddie ranted, the less Travis felt like breaking his face. He was a little sad that his old friend had become a resentful bully with more brawn than brains.

"Actually, I prefer to wipe my own ass."

"Funny."

"I can either laugh or shove my fist down your throat."

"You think you could take me?" Eddie moved to his right, effectively blocking Travis' exit. "You won't be so pretty when I finish."

Travis sighed. Sometimes walking away isn't an option. He centered his weight and sent flying an expertly placed roundhouse kick. Eddie screamed, hitting his knees as blood spurted from his broken nose.

"My hands are too valuable to risk them on an asshole like you." Travis started his bike, strapping on his helmet. Revving the engine, he gave Eddie a final warning. "If you or anybody you know even breathes in the vicinity of Delaney, I will track you down like the dog you are."

"And to answer your question? Yes. I think I can take you."

 

THE MOON COOPERATED perfectly. A big, bright, golden orb to light their way. The glow added a welcome touch of warm, intimate ambiance.

Travis easily handled the curving road—so familiar despite how long it had been since his last trip up the mountain.

Everything felt familiar. The roar of the bike. The air whipping around his body. And best of all, the feel of Delaney pressed hard against his back, her arms wrapped around him like satin-covered steel.

Familiar, yet fresh as a spring rain that had washed away the bitter taste of winter. A new beginning. For him and Delaney.

Travis didn't know if Eddie would deliver his message to Munch Brill. Or if Brill would heed the warning. One thing was for sure, he and Delaney weren't kids anymore. The whims and vagaries of others wouldn't dictate how they lived their lives. They had learned to stand on their own, strong and independent. If they had to fight, they would. Without hesitation.

Independent and strong. The words perfectly described Delaney. He admired the woman she'd made of herself. However, a thought had begun to swirl in Travis' mind. A wish. A picture slowly taking shape. Clearer with each passing minute they spent together.

Delaney standing—not alone—but with him. Side by side. Together. Forever.

Logically, Travis understood he'd be smart to take a step back. He'd taken a huge leap from renewing their friendship to living the rest of their lives together. Delaney might need some time to catch up. Hell, she might run—as far and as fast as possible.

Travis had to chuckle. Delaney might hesitate, but he didn't think she'd be too surprised. Their relationship had never been conventional. Why start now?

As he turned right, Travis felt Delaney tense, her body signaling to him that she knew where they were headed. The old path had grown over, and bushes were taller, thicker than he recalled. Not that the abundance of vegetation mattered.

Travis could have found their destination in his sleep.

"Surprised?" Travis asked as he helped Delaney from the bike.

"Very." She took off her helmet. "In a good way. Are we stopping before we go to eat?"

"If you don't mind, I thought we'd have dinner here."

"A picnic. Perfect." Smiling, Delaney took a step, her foot catching on a rock. Travis caught her before she could fall. "I don't remember a rock in that spot."

"There are rocks and boulders all over the area. However, we only came here in the day, so you didn't notice."

"If I hold onto you, I won't break anything," Delaney said, taking his hand. "Added bonus? I get to hold onto you."

"I agree. But just to be safe."

Travis hit the remote in his pocket.

Strings of lights, placed there earlier that day with the help of some very good friends, came to life. Wrapped around trees. Woven through branches. Laid over shrubs and bushes. Their little getaway had been transformed into a magical wonderland.

Delaney gasped, her eyes widening, the purple of her irises sparkling with excitement. Slowly, she turned in a circle, taking everything in.

"How could you get all this done?"

"I had some help."

Travis kept his gaze on Delaney. Her reaction was the best reward he could have asked for.

"The thought of coming back here scared me. I didn't want to diminish the memories. I was afraid my mind had exaggerated the times we'd shared into something reality could never match."

"And now?"

Glowing, Delaney wrapped her arms around him.

"I wasn't wrong. About this place. Or you."

Romantic wasn't a word most people would attribute to Travis. He could be funny and a little wild. He knew that women considered him sexy. He certainly tried his best to be a good lover. And a good friend.

For the first time in his life, Travis understood how the smile of a woman could warm a man's blood. He wasn't talking about carnal heat. But a feeling that the simple touch of Delaney's hand would be enough to make a bad day better.

Travis opened the storage space on his bike, removing a basket filled with food. He spread out a blanket before opening a chilled bottle of wine.

"To new memories," he said, clinking his glass with Delaney's.

"I'll drink to that."

"Now," Travis said, watching as she pulled off her boots before stretching out her long, denim-covered legs, crossing them at the ankles. "While we eat, I want you to tell me everything you've been up to. Starting with the moment we said goodbye."

"Eleven years?" Delaney chuckled as she popped a green olive into her mouth. "Are you sure you're ready for all the mundane, boring details?"

"You do the talking, Del. I won't be bored."

More like highly entertained. Delaney's face was so expressive, her way with words so fluid, Travis could have listened to her for hours without interruption. She told him about her fears. How she'd worried about fitting in. The friends who made her transition easier. He felt he got to know each person in her life that mattered by seeing them through Delaney's incredible eyes.

"Has there been anyone special? I know you aren't a virgin."

"I won't go into details."

"Thank you very much."

The last thing Travis wanted was a graphic depiction of Delaney's love life.

Delaney sipped her wine before continuing. "I've dated. I've had several lovers. I liked them all. But no. There hasn't been a man I would classify as special."

"Candice mentioned you were dating someone."

Frowning, Delaney paused long enough—thinking hard—to allay any worry Travis may have harbored. If she couldn't come up with a name off the top of her head, he couldn't be very memorable.

"I may have mentioned Milton Ferguson," Delaney said. "Several months ago. He taught a couple of history classes at the University, and we met through mutual friends. But he was only visiting from Ireland for the semester. I haven't spoken to him since he left for home."

"Good."

"Good? You want me to be alone?"

Because he caught the teasing note in Delaney's voice, Travis wasn't worried that her life had lacked anything—socially or otherwise. He could tell she was happy. As for her sex life. He planned on doing his part to give her all the spicey good times she could handle.

"You won't ever be alone, Del. I promise."

"Don't." Delaney shook her head, the moon catching the golden highlights. "Promises are as easy to break as they are to make."

"But—"

"Tell me in a month," she cautioned. "Six months. When you're sure."

He was sure, Travis wanted to tell Delaney. He wouldn't change his mind in six months, six years, or six decades. Frustrated, he conceded she had a point. They could take time to get reacquainted. They could take all the time she needed. He wasn't going anywhere.

"What about the women in your life?"

Oh, boy. Slippery slope.

"I've known a few," Travis hedged.

"The understatement of the century," Delaney chided lightly. "From all the pictures I've seen, you've dated models, actresses, singers, by the car load. Did you ever think about settling down with one of them?"

"I'm already married. Remember?"

"Ah."

Travis didn't know if he liked her tone.

"What does ah mean?

"I was too busy with school. And learning how to interact with other students to think about annulling our marriage. I always thought baseball kept you so busy you forgot. Now the truth comes out. I was your safety net against ring-seeking women."

Delaney seemed to find the idea highly amusing.

"No."

"Then why are we still married?"

"Honestly?" Travis tried to find the right words. "I forgot about us—our situation—for long stretches of time."

"Flatterer."

"Come on." Travis gave Delaney's leg a shake, then, because he liked touching her, left his hand where it was. "I don't believe I was on your mind twenty-four hours a day."

"Of course not. But I never forgot you."

"I used the wrong word." Travis tried again. "You were tucked away. In storage—so to speak."

Delaney laid her hand over his. And the gesture felt natural. Right.

"Better," she said.

"I could've arranged an annulment any number of times. Something so quick and emotionless never felt like the way we were supposed to end. Does that make sense?"

"To me? Yes." Laughing, she lay on her back, keeping hold of his hand. "Our story isn't an easy one to explain. Crazy, some might say. Here we are. Back where we started. Yet each of us has come so far."

"You like who you are?" Travis asked.

Delaney nodded.

Propped on his elbow, Travis leaned over her. As he cupped her cheek, her smile widened, and her eyes grew so dark the purple bordered on black.

"I like who you are, Del. I always have."

"Have you ever wondered why we click so seamlessly? Back then? Now? On paper, we should be like oil and water."

"On paper." Travis had to laugh. "Almost a year ago, months before the season started? The Cyclones were picked to win the World Series."

"And you did."

"True. But as my buddy Spencer Kraig pointed out, there's a reason why we play a hundred and sixty-two games. Predictions mean about as much as the paper they're written on. At one point during the season, we struggled. Mightily. Our hopes of a championship were close to going off the rails."

"How did you fix the problem?"

"The Cyclones are a diverse group. Different cultures. Different beliefs. On paper, we shouldn't work. But I love those guys. Every single one. We faced the problem. Together. Believed in each other. I know for a fact we came out the other side stronger than ever."

"I always believed in you." Delaney turned her head, her lips brushing the palm of his hand.

"We fit." Travis leaned closer. "Perfectly."

"I agree."

Travis wanted to give Delaney romance. Their first time. Sweet, gentle, loving. He hadn't expected the burst of passion that exploded the second his mouth touched hers.

The thought that he should pull back, take a breath, slow things down, flashed through his brain. And he might have managed, except Delaney made her feelings clear from the start. She wasn't interested in sweet or gentle. Wild, molten-hot sex was on her agenda.

And Travis was more than happy to comply.

"Shirt. Off. Now."

In a flash, Travis sent his shirt flying. The night did nothing to cool the heat of Delaney's eager touch.

"You next."

Delaney raised her arms. He couldn't resist smoothing his hands up her back as he raised the cloth inch by inch. She sighed with pleasure, and the sound was like a high-octane aphrodisiac.

Shirt. Bra. Half-naked Delaney. Her skin, like alabaster, shimmered in the moonlight. Smooth. Soft. Travis couldn't get enough.

"Kiss me." Delaney wiggled her eyebrows. She ran a finger down her throat, stopping at the slope of her breast. "Here."

Travis was more than happy to let Delaney drive the action—for now. Especially when she steered him in all the right directions.

Delaney gasped.

"I didn't tell you to use your tongue."

"Any objection?" Travis punctuated his question by lapping at her nipple.

"Nope." She threaded her fingers through his hair, the tips contracting when his teeth joined the fun. "Please, carry on."

An excellent multitasker, Travis disposed of the rest of his clothing in quick order. Delaney's followed. She had the legs of a dancer. Long, lean, shapely. He wanted them wrapped around him, urging him on.

"Please."

Delaney sounded desperate. And Travis was right there with her. He fumbled with his jeans, letting out a sigh of relief when he found the condom on the first try.

"Better than your dream?" he inquired, settling between her spectacular legs.

Licking her lips, Delaney frowned, her eyes a sparkling amethyst.

"What dream?" she sighed.

"Mm. Good answer."

Travis entered her with one push. The glide easy. Their bodies were made for each other. A perfect fit.

Breathing heavily, Travis watched the emotions race over Delaney's face. Marveled as the color of her irises deepened. She arched her neck, air bursting from her lungs. So close. He could tell by the flush of her skin, the tightening of her legs as they twined around his.

"Now," Travis said, needing her to fall with him.

"Now!" Delaney called out.

Reaching up, up, up. Then bursting through. Skyrockets. Travis was certain he saw a whole rainbow of colors. Over and over they fell. Tumbling down, the descent much slower than the rise.

Travis collapsed, rolling to the side, keeping Delaney safely tucked in his arms.

He felt Delaney's lips graze his chest before she snuggled close. Limp, but satisfied.

The stars and the moon blanketed them. Somehow, the light seemed brighter. More intense. As if, after serving as witness to something beautiful, the sky wanted to show its approval.

"Are you cold," Travis asked.

"No. Just right. Practically perfect."

Travis rested his hand on Delaney's hip. Practically perfect. He liked that. They might never reach perfection. He didn't care. But wouldn't they have fun trying? Over and over and over again.