Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance (19 page)

He had one more activity for the day, mindful meditation for him to clear his mind from all the guilt and shame he’d accumulated growing up. He’d always thought that him not being a good enough boy was the reason his mother ran around with other men, that him not being a stellar athlete was why his father had an entire second family.

The horses were back in the corral, and in the distance, he spied Jeanine dismounting from a beautiful chestnut colored horse. Because of the wound in his thigh, he was unable to take advantage of the trail rides and therapy that went with learning to bond with a large and strong animal—the horse—who oftentimes had its own will.

He waited for Jeanine to pet her horse and have a talk with it. Her blond hair fluttered in the wind and she kept throwing it from her eyes, while stroking the horse’s head and feeding it apples and carrots.

He knew he shouldn’t get so attached to her, at least not while he was in therapy, but the attraction was too strong, and last night, while they slept together after sex, he’d felt the earth turn off its axis as he held her. Was it possible that he’d already fallen for her?

Jeanine said goodbye to the horse and looked his direction. Her smile brightened her entire face, and she waved exuberantly, happy to see him. She was relaxed and walked with an easy gait, unlike her usual ramrod stiff power walk.

He picked up his pace and ambled toward the barn to meet her.

“You two know each other?” her therapist, a middle-aged woman with long straight gray hair, asked after Kirk greeted Jeanine with a warm hug.

“Yes, we’re friends back home,” Jeanine said. “It was a coincidence that he’s here, too.”

“I’m Phyllis, a counselor here.” The woman introduced herself to Kirk. “We usually prefer clients to leave all their baggage at home.”

Kirk was floored at Phyllis’s remark. “I don’t understand. What do you mean by baggage?”

“I can’t discuss a client’s case with anyone else, but I would prefer that Jeanine not associate with anyone she knows from home.” She put her hand on Jeanine’s shoulder. “It’ll be easier for you to let the past go if you aren’t confronted with it while here. This is supposed to be a safe haven.”

“Oh, Kirk is fine,” Jeanine said. “He’s not the cause of my traumatic experience. He’s just a good friend. Don’t worry about the sexual addiction either. We’re not involved or anything.”

Phyllis pursed her lips as if biting back what she would have liked to say. “You’re making good progress, learning to trust and be open about your feelings. But today’s just a start. I want you to continue telling the truth about everything, past, present, and your hopes for the future. I just believe it is a little harder when there is someone you know around for you to be completely open.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jeanine said. “I don’t think Kirk and I have the same sessions. He’s in with the boys, right Kirk?”

“That’s right. I’m with the boys working on love and sex addiction. We had wood shop therapy, chopping wood, and the usual male bonding stuff. Just got back from a trek along the riverbank.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Phyllis said without looking at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time in the barn. Rest well and enjoy your evening.”

She turned sharply without even a nod to Kirk and marched back to the barn.

“Wow, I get the distinct impression she thinks I’m hurting you,” Kirk said. “Is my presence going to keep you from recovering?”

Jeanine hooked her arm through Kirk’s. “She’s just jealous you’re my recovery buddy. Now, what do you say to our first official date?”

“I love the sound of that. Only instead of you cooking, let’s order takeout from the virgin bar at the clubhouse, and we can spend more time on that loveseat in front of the fire.”

“Smart man, Mr. Kennedy,” Jeanine said, digging a knuckle into his forearm. “You just avoided being poisoned by my cooking.”

“You mean bartenders can’t cook?”

“Mixing, shaking, blending, and pulling taps doesn’t come close to working in the kitchen.”

“Any other dark, dirty secrets you want to clue me in on now that we’re dating?” Kirk pulled her closer to him as they approached her cabin.

“I’d rather show than tell.” She grinned and hip bumped him.

His body responded to the thought of Jeanine showing exactly what she could do to him, but he tamped down his lust, or tried to. The Trail’s End Recovery Ranch was about recovering from sex addictions, not throwing gasoline into the fire.

Except with Jeanine, he wasn’t playing for sex. He was playing for her heart. And it was the right thing to do.

The sex, or making love, was the bonus.

A
week later
, Jeanine was in the kitchen mixing up virgin drinks while Kirk stoked the fire, after calling for room service. It was their last day at the Recovery Ranch, and they were both in excellent spirits.

Jeanine’s therapist was amazed at her transformation and believed that the horses had a lot to do with her calmness and ability to kick her sex addiction. Little did Phyllis know that Kirk was the only reason she was no longer hankering to pick up random men.

As for the trauma and flashbacks, she was done with them. Sleeping in Kirk’s arms every night had cured her of nightmares, and she was ready to go home.

“Are you going to miss this place?” Kirk came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I know I will.”

“Will you miss me?” She looked over her shoulder as his head craned around to kiss her.

“Mmm …” he mumbled against her lips. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” She finished pouring the orange juice and Sprite over grenadine, then stuck a maraschino cherry on top. “Then I won’t miss you either. Have an Arizona Sunset.”

He picked up the glass and raised it to toast her. “I won’t miss you because you’ll be stuck to my side. Think you’ll have a job for me at The Hot Corner?”

“You want to be a bartender?” She clinked her glass to his.

“Figured I’m good at reading people. I might as well put that skill to work.” He took a sip of the virgin cocktail. “You need a little more Sprite. I like my drinks bubbly.”

“Well, I did kick Tina out of my apartment for letting George and your brother in to burglarize my underwear, but I haven’t spoken to Marcia, since she needs the help. But if we fire Tina, we’ll be needing another bartender and night manager.”

“Great.” He bent around and kissed her. “Does this mean I’ll be sleeping with my boss?”

“You make a lot of assumptions.” She pecked his lips. “Has your therapist declared you cured of your sexual addiction?”

“I’ve been cured since the night I ran into you. How about you?”

“Phyllis believes I’ve made great progress. She wants me to let Dr. Sparks know how well the treatments here are working for me.”

Kirk chuckled and set his glass down. “There’s one treatment they don’t know about. You’re not going to tell Dr. Sparks, are you?”

“Obviously not. That’s our little secret.” She giggled.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted their private laugh fest, and Kirk answered the door.

“Howdy, folks,” Dick, the receptionist, drawled. Today he was wearing a bright yellow cowboy shirt, worn corduroy pants, and a scruffy felt hat. “Looks like the best way to treat sex addiction is to indulge in it.”

He chuckled as he wheeled the room service trolley into the cabin.

Even though the smell was delicious, the utensils were plastic and the dishes were plain stoneware on red and white checkered placemats.

He uncovered a crock containing the chili they’d ordered and filled them in bread bowls that looked like a giant had chewed off the top.

“Looks like y’all have drinks.” He snickered. “Didn’t your counsellors warn against alcohol?”

“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Mr.—” Jeanine didn’t want to call him Mr. Dick, although that was exactly how he was acting.

“Mr. Gardner.” He held out his hand to shake.

The last think Jeanine wanted was to touch the lech, so she withdrew behind Kirk, who gripped the man’s hand until he grimaced.

“You’ve been making inappropriate remarks,” Kirk said. “I’m going to report you to Dr. Sparks if you don’t apologize to the lady right away.”

“This used to be my ranch. Passed down from my forefathers to me.”

“Well, now it belongs to Dr. Sparks, and harassing her clients is not going to make her happy.”

“Fine, I’m sorry.” Dick removed his worn cowboy hat and twisted it. “Just trying to be friendly.”

“Keep your comments to yourself and we’ll be fine.” Kirk waved toward the door to dismiss the former rancher.

After Dick sidled out the door, Jeanine let out a grunt of laughter. “Thanks for sticking up for me. No wonder he ran the ranch to the ground.”

“This location is so healthy, what with the river and the hot springs down the road …”

“There are hot springs around?” Jeanine cut him off. “Are they private?”

“They’re on ranch land, but who knows? Local kids might use it for a swimming hole.”

“But not at night, hopefully.” Jeanine felt a surge of naughty energy twinkling in her veins. “Can you let your leg get wet?"

“Why? You want to go skinny-dipping?” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “Unfortunately, I can’t join you, but I’ll stand guard.”

“Great. Let’s eat, drink, and be merry.” Jeanine took his hand and led him to the kitchen table where they’d had a therapeutic session the night before. As for tonight, she had no doubt the skinny dipping would lead to more fun and frolic, either on the riverbank, in the meadow, or between the sheets. What a memorable way to end their stay at the Trail’s End Recovery Ranch.

T
he moon shone
bright over the desert night, and the air was crisp with the scent of creosote, mesquite, cottonwoods and alders. The creek trickled and bullfrogs croaked as Kirk held Jeanine’s hand. He knew exactly where the hot springs were, having come across them on the therapeutic hike. And face it, seeing her delectable body shimmering in the water would be an extra treat.

An image jumped unbidden into his mind. His wanton mother had snuck out of their beachside resort and had stripped naked in a shallow tide pool. She hadn’t realized nine-year-old Kirk had followed her. Her white flesh had shone in the light of the moon, and was quickly covered by the broad back of her surfing instructor.

Kirk almost spat into the soft grass below his feet at the movie rolling in his head. As a boy, he’d been disgusted, yet fascinated, unable to tear his eyes from what they were doing.

Except there would be no repeat performance tonight. He had a healing gunshot wound in his leg, and even though they’d been having wild, monkey sex indoors, he had yet to fathom Jeanine’s true feelings for George Simpson, the man who’d raised her and abused her.

He shuddered at what must be hidden deep in her psyche. During sex, she’d fade in and out, sometimes focused on him, and other times seemingly miles away, deep in her mind. Was she using him to recover, or was he a symptom of her sexual addiction?

Lying to his therapist had seemed like the right thing to do, but at the same time, he was replacing his addiction for anonymous sex to that with Jeanine. Was he in too deep?

He studied Jeanine and the way she held herself, walking lightly through the woods. She seemed happy and flirtatious, and her hand was warm where she held him.

“What’s wrong?” She leaned closer to him, sensing his tremble. “Is it too chilly for you?”

“Not at all.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just remembering something about my mom.”

“Not good, huh? Want to talk about it?”

“Nah, I don’t want to ruin the mood. Are you really going to jump in naked, or did you bring a bikini?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Their footsteps crunched in the pine needles as they approached the springs. The waters cascaded down a pile of rocks into a pool full of steam. No one else was in the vicinity, as far as he could tell.

Jeanine’s steps picked up the pace as she got closer to the pool. She shrugged off her light jacket first, then tossed her scarf and hair tie. The boots were next, followed by her barely there strappy tank top. Her boobs bounced inside her lacey bra before she freed them.

Kirk’s pulse rate skyrocketed and his cock jumped to attention. Her pink nipples perked up with the cool evening air, and he swallowed drool, his tongue swishing inside his mouth in a kissing and sucking motion.

Damn. The woman was a danger to society. Public enemy number one as she unzipped her jeans and worked those mile long legs of hers from their confines.

A solitary G-string with a small patch of cloth in the front was all that kept her from being completely naked as she lowered herself down the slide of rocks to the pool.

“Come on in,” she called, waving her hand. “The water’s warm and I’ve heard it’s therapeutic.”

“You’re teasing me,” Kirk said as he retrieved her clothes strewn on the bank. “I’ll dip my toes, but I don’t want to reopen my wounds.”

He rolled up his pant legs to his knees and sat on a rock behind her.

Too bad for him, Jeanine sank all the way down, submerging her boobs as she leaned her head back between his legs. She reached up and took his hands. “Do you see the stars up there? I think there’s a meteor shower.”

“I’m too busy looking at you and regretting my bum leg.” Kirk cleared his throat and bemoaned his fate. But then, all good things came to those who waited.

Her eyes caught his, upside down, and the moon reflected in them made them a shade of electric gray, bordering on blue.

“I’m glad you’re here with me. I had a very emotional day. My therapist wanted me to write down all the memories I have, as far back as I can remember, and it’s all bad stuff. Being spanked, having my panties pulled down. I do remember a snail with a hole in his shell oozing bubbles and thinking I was that tiny creature, melting away because I had a hole in my shell. It’s the reason why I guard myself so much.” She licked her dry lips, feeling drained by her disclosures.

He stroked her hair and she closed her eyes, turning her head toward his fingers. “It’s good to have that shell except when it’s keeping the bad stuff in.”

“That’s what Phyllis said. To write down everything and move it out, then replace the empty spaces with good things. God knows I’ll have plenty of room once my baggage is removed.”

“And I aim to put precious memories in to replace the bad.”

“That’s what I like about you.” She tightened her hold on his hands. “You’re one persistent guy. How about you? What memories have you been throwing away?”

“Everything about my mom. I don’t understand why she and my brother got involved in this cloak and dagger game with those love letters.”

“I don’t get why Tina was involved with the break in. It gives me the creeps that they went through my underwear drawer.”

“It’s all behind us now,” Kirk said. “Do you ever wonder about your mother? Didn’t you say someone claims to be your brother?”

“Yes, one of the stalkers.” Jeanine’s muscles tensed under his hands. “He says he was supposed to protect me, but that his other client needed him. Maybe that was my mother.”

“Do you want to meet her?”

“Yes and no.” Jeanine took a shuddering breath. “The only reason I want to meet her is to tell her off. I want to be dressed to the nines, wearing all my jewelry, showing her how successful I am without her, and tell her to get lost, that I want nothing to do with her.”

“Aren’t you at all curious why she abandoned you? Or who your father is?”

Jeanine gave her head a quick shake. “Maybe she doesn’t know. My birth certificate says ‘unknown.’ I’m not going to believe this Tyson Jewell unless he has proof. He could be a scamster who knew George in prison. Who’s to say that’s even his name?”

“I just can’t believe why my mother and brother wanted to get those letters to you, and then my brother goes on that raid to your apartment to get them back.”

“Maybe your brother told George you gave his letters to me, and George wanted them back since they’re evidence he abused me.”

“True. But why did they take your underwear?”

“They were trying to make me off-balanced. George does those things. He makes you think you’re crazy. He did that to Karen a lot, misplaced her keys or purse or hid her drinks. Kept her confused so she didn’t ask questions about why he was always in the basement.”

“What was his goal?” Kirk picked up a wet strand of Jeanine’s hair and twirled it around his finger.

“He wanted me to wait for him and marry him.”

Her words pierced through his heart and chilled him to the marrow. Her rapist foster father wanted to marry her?

“He’s insane.” Kirk tightened his hold on Jeanine’s hair. “Fucking certifiably insane.”

She tugged back at her hair. “He used to do that to me. Twist my hair and pull me around.”

“Oh, sorry.” He let go as if shocked by electricity. “You’re going to have to let me know what triggers you.”

Her laugh was a cross between a snort and a huff. “That would be everything. He did everything to me during the time I was under his control.”

Anger ground in the pit of his stomach. Was there nothing left for Jeanine to make a clean break? Was there anything left for him to be the first?

Except for her heart.
Kirk reminded himself. She was forced and manipulated to do those horrid acts with Simpson. None of it was her fault. But to think the depraved scum thought she’d wait for him to get out of jail and marry her?

He wished he’d pummeled Simpson harder, killed him while he had the chance. It would have been self defense since Simpson had the gun. Instead of knocking it from his grip, he should have turned it on the child rapist and killed him.

“Are you okay?” Jeanine opened her eyes and stared at him. “Is this too much truth?”

“No, we need the truth if we’re to recover. We have to own it to get over it.”

“Yes, the only way I can survive is to face the truth, no matter how ugly,” she agreed. “But Kirk, if it’s too much for you, I don’t have to share it with you.”

“We’re good friends, right? Friends help each other no matter what.”

“Yes.” She raised herself from the steaming water, and he watched fascinated as goosebumps sprinkled over her skin. “The best of friends, with or without benefits.”

“I say with.” He dragged her from the hot springs, pressed her wet, steaming body against his, and possessed her lips.