Page 43 of Stolen Bases

“What do you mean?”

The weight of her leg presses into my side, and the need for more contact has me draping her legs over my thighs, avoiding my growing erection. I don’t want her to think I only want her body. There is so much more about this woman that I want.

What, specifically? I don’t know yet, but the growing, unfamiliar flicker of something I can’t name tells meeverything.

I clear the thickness from my throat. “Sometimes, I don’t think they take me seriously. They mostly see me as a wild child. Youngest of the bunch. The carefree one you can always count on for comic relief.”

I leave out “playboy” because the last thing I want is for Talia to think that’s who I am. Maybe once upon a time I was, but not anymore. I haven’t had a serious relationship since … never. There hasn’t been a woman to pique my interest enough to keep her around for longer than a couple of weeks.

“That part, you can’t help. You are funny.” She playfully pushes at my shoulder, releasing this cute chuckle-sigh noise that has me fantasizing about what other noises I can make leave her mouth. “My family thinks I’m Miss Perfect. A total goodie two-shoes. I mean, they aren’t wrong.”

“Why do you think that?” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze, sending her the strength to share.

Talia shrugs, letting go of my hand for a second, only to replace it with the other one as she props her head on the arm that now dangles along the edge of the hot tub. My chest twinges at the easy way she stays holding onto me as she stares at my face.

“I don’t think. I know. My entire life, I’ve kept my head down and stayed out of the spotlight. I’m also the youngest, but I felt like it wasn’t my place to be wild and carefree. My mom had the restaurant. Nico had baseball. After our father left, I just… I guess I thought Nico needed our mom more than I did. So, I made school my thing. That way, I wasn’t adding to my mom’s already full plate.”

“When did your dad leave?”

“When he found out she was pregnant with me.”

My thoughts flash to my brother, Jace. He would have moved heaven and earth to be with his son if he’d known about him sooner.

“Damn,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. But the way she admitted that—with complete acceptance and resignation—breaks my heart, and anger burns my veins. Who just walks out on their wife and kids like that?

“Damn is right. One night, years ago, I overheard my mom pouring her heart out to Zia Rose. She said she missed him and didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay. Since then, I’ve always wondered how her life would be if I weren’t born. Would he still be here? Would she be happier?”

Anger burns like wildfire in my gut, begging to be unleashed on her sperm donor—because that’s all that man is—for the unfounded guilt he's made her carry. For making her walk around with an unwarranted burden. For making her think she has to be perfect all the time.

This strong, beautifully smart woman deserves to be happy.

She turns away from me, hiding her unshed tears.

The need to protect her and hide her away from the world so she never gets hurt has me palming the side of her face, praying my touch eases her pain. “Look at me.”

She does as I ask, facing me head-on. Her sad eyes cut me to the quick, but when she melts into my touch, I’m done.

This woman has me tied around her tiny finger, and she doesn’t even know it.

My thumb brushes the apple of her cheek, and her eyelids flutter. “It’s not your fault, Talia. He’s the piece of shit who left. Your mom loves you more than anything.”

“How do you know?” Her voice cracks as her eyes sparkle with unshed tears.

“Because you’re here. She had you. Chose you. Loved you before she even knew you.” I hope my words fill the fractures in her heart. I’d give anything to take away her hurt. “I’m glad she did. Because, now, I get to have you here. With me.”

Her eyes bounce between mine, searching for any hint of bullshit.

She won’t find any. I wholeheartedly mean it. I like being with her, way more than I should.

She finds what she’s looking for and licks her lips, her pink tongue darting out, taunting me. “Me too, big guy.”

Her confession has the weight on my chest falling away, and the nickname on her lips has my blood roaring, traveling south and setting up camp between my legs. As much as I want to devour her mouth, spread her legs and feast on her pussy, and impale her on my cock, I keep my distance. I need her to come to me. I won’t jeopardize her relationship with her family if she isn’t sure.

“You can’t call me that, itty bitty.” My voice is gritty as I hold back.

Her mouth quirks up. “Why?”

She knows why, the little minx.

---