My eyes scan the arrivals terminal as people make their way to the luggage carousels. Every time I see a head of blonde hair, my heart jumps. And maybe another part of my anatomy as well.
It’s been three weeks since we’ve seen each other. We just haven’t been able to get our schedules to mesh. Taking on more responsibility at the gym means it’s harder for her to get away. But now she’s on vacation and I get her for an entire week.
I used to love spring training. Being down in Tampa for six weeks when it’s bitter cold up north was just another perk of the job. But this year is different. This year I have someone to go home to. Someone who is waiting for me.
A smile splits my face when I see her. When she notices me standing here, her steps quicken and she walks as fast as she can without running. Our eyes are locked together. Hundreds of people surround us, yet we only see each other. I want to go to her but security would probably apprehend me.
I start laughing when I realize what she’s wearing. Shorts. A halter top. Flip flops. Appropriate attire for Florida, but not for New York City the first week of March. She must have frozen her butt off in her excitement to get here.
She passes security and jumps into my waiting arms, wrapping her legs around me. Cameras come out and photograph us, but I don’t care. In the past four months, we’ve graced the covers of so many tabloids it doesn’t even bother her anymore. Just like everything else in her life, she’s taking this in stride.
We kiss like we’ve been apart for three decades, not three weeks.
This, right here, makes everything worth it.
When we finally pull apart and I return her to her feet, she tries to compose herself. “Well, that ought to give them something to write about,” she says, nodding at the paparazzi who caught wind of us.
Several photographers follow us as we retrieve her suitcase and walk out to my rental car.
“Caden, is there a wedding in the future?” one shouts.
“Miss Cavenaugh, does it bother you that he’s down here bar-hopping?” another asks.
Having heard enough, I turn to them. “I haven’t seen my girl in weeks. We’ll be happy to pose for a photo if you’ll then give us our privacy.”
Murphy pastes on her best model smile as the cameras snap repeatedly. Then, just as asked, they leave us alone. Sometimes I find it easier to give them what they want rather than try to fend them off.
I open the door for her and she gets in the car. “It’s not true, you know. I don’t go bar-hopping. I mean, I’ve been to a few bars, but I’m not out trolling or anything.”
“Caden, I don’t expect you to sit in your hotel room twiddling your thumbs while you’re down here. I hope you’re going out with your friends. You deserve to have a little fun after working so hard.”
I stick my head in the car and lay a kiss on her. “Are you for real?”
“I’m for real in love with you, Kessler.”
I smile, knowing she’d find some way to tell me she loves me. She does every day. “Right backatcha, Murphy Brown.”
I walk around the car and get in, starting it up and backing out.
“Where are we going first?” she asks in excitement.
I stare at her. I sure as hell don’t need words to tell her what I have planned.
She wiggles out of her flip flops. “Okay then, I guess the beach will have to wait.”
“I have big plans for us and the beach,” I say. “But not today. I don’t have the tent with me.”
“You have a tent? Why do you have a tent?”
“You don’t expect me to make love to my girl out in the open do you? That shit would end up on YouTube.”
I glance over to see her swallow. Hard. “We’re going to make love on the beach?”
“It’s one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”
“Well … yes, but—”
“But nothing. It’s happening. I even got a tent that opens at the top for star-gazing.”
“It sounds like you thought of everything,” she says, smiling.
“I did. Wait until you see the hotel suite. We could hole up in there all week and never leave. I’ve stocked it with all your favorite snacks and drinks. And with room service … hell, we won’t even have to get out of bed until Monday.”
She reaches over to grab my hand. “Sounds like the perfect vacation.”
I laugh, settling our entwined hands on her bare leg. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll get you to the beach. Maybe you can hang out there when I’m at practice.”
“That might be okay for a day or two, but I’d also like to watch a few practices if that’s allowed.”
“Of course. Anything you want.”
Her phone chirps with a text. When she looks at it, she seems upset.
“What is it?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It’s Tony. He says he wants to talk to me.”
“Give it to me,” I say, reaching over to get her phone. “I’ll text him. I’ll tell him where he can shove his misguided attempts at extortion.”
She holds the phone out of my reach. “You are not going to text him, Caden. I don’t care what he wants, I’m not even going to answer him. Plus, you’re driving.”
“I wasn’t going to text him this second,” I scoff at her. “I’m not stupid, you know.”
She taps around on her phone. “Problem solved,” she says. “I blocked his number.”
“How does that solve the problem, Murph? It’s not like he’s some random caller. He has your number. He can call it from anyone’s phone.”
“Well, it solves the problem for now,” she says. “And if he keeps texting from another phone, I’ll turn the thing off. He’s not going to ruin my vacation.”
A few months ago, the snake contacted her, threatening to sue her for throwing his home run ball out the window. He said he could have gotten money for it so she should pay him to compensate. Asked her for a few thousand dollars. It was ridiculous. I hadn’t even signed it. I wonder what other scheme he’s come up with now.
I’ve considered filing a restraining order against him, but Ethan said if he hasn’t physically threatened her, they won’t issue one. So, the prick continues to be a thorn in my side.
We pull up to the valet parking at the hotel. I pop the trunk and leave her suitcase for the bellhop so I can quickly get us through the swarm of the dozen-or-so girls who have decided to camp out in front of the hotel this afternoon.
I get no less than two marriage proposals on our way by. But it’s not those that bother me. It’s the remarks about Murphy. Girls asking why I’m with her when they can offer me a perfect face. It takes a lot of willpower not to stop and tell them off. But I learned a long time ago, that won’t accomplish anything.
Once we’re safely inside, Murphy asks, “Do you have to deal with that every day?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s awful. Can’t the hotel do anything about it?”
“If the fans get unruly, they will ask them to leave. But they always come back. The hotel does a good job of keeping them out of the lobby, but sometimes an overzealous fan will slip by them, going to great lengths to pretend to be a guest.”
Murphy gives me an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with people?”
I grab her hand and lead her into the elevator. “You know as well as I do, everyone wants a slice of the pie.”
“People suck,” she says.
I cage her into the corner of the elevator, not wanting to wait another minute to kiss her again. “You don’t suck,” I say, looking down on her.
“You don’t suck, either,” she says, pulling my head closer to hers.
When my lips are about to touch hers, I say, “Now that we’ve cleared that up, what are we going to do with each other?”
“Anything,” she says, longingly. “Everything.”
I kiss her until the door opens on my floor. Then I sweep her into my arms and carry her to my suite, having every intention of holding her to her unspoken promise.