Suddenly a Bride (3 page)

“No problem,” Chessie said, turning over the card. “Richard Halstead, novelist. Nope, don’t recognize the name. But don’t ever tell him I said that.”

“I won’t. He writes more for men, I guess. Although he certainly has his share of female fans. Oh, and Chessie? Since Richard will be out of town all next week, and the housekeeper never minds watching the boys, would you…that is, I’d love for you to be my guest for dinner one night.”

“Only if we go dutch treat,” Chessie said. “And we’ll take Eve along, and maybe Marylou—God, we have to take Marylou if she isn’t busy with one of her projects. A real girls’ night out. I’m guessing you don’t have many of those.”

“No, I don’t,” Elizabeth said as the two of them descended the stairs to the first floor once more. “Thank you, Chessie. I’m really, really glad you kidnapped me.”

Once Elizabeth had gone, Chessie pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in numbers as she headed for her office, away from Eve’s always listening ears.

“Will? Yeah, yeah, sorry for hanging up on you a couple of minutes ago, but I just had an idea when I heard your voice, an idea that I think is even better than my original idea, which wasn’t all that bad in its own altruistic way, by the way. Although this one could
almost be altruistic if you didn’t look at it too hard, and—no, I have
not
been drinking. You know I don’t drink. Just listen, okay?”

Her cousin’s answer was short and to the point.

“Okay, so court convenes again in two minutes and we all know the legal world can’t go on without you, except that it’s going to, once your suspension kicks in. I’ll talk fast, you listen faster. I’ve got twins, boys, seven years old. They need a youth baseball team.”

She pulled the phone from her ear for a few moments while Will gave his opinion of youth baseball teams.

“Right, gotcha. A sin and a shame and a totally over-the-top reaction to your, I’m sure, perfectly calm and reasonable arguments to the judge. No, you’re never snarky, especially in court.” She laughed. “Yes, now
I’m
being snarky. But my heart goes out to you, it really does. Will you take them? Good. First practice tomorrow morning at nine, got it. Yeah, I know the field. They’ll be there. Now, for the second idea. Their mother is a widow, and she needs some fun.”

This time she rolled her eyes as she held the phone away from her ear for a few more moments.

“No, she does not bark. No, she does not have a tail. Although the same can’t be said for the last blind date you threw at me, buddy boy, so cut that out. You owe me one. You even said so, and I’m collecting, all right? And she’s gorgeous, Will, she really is, but maybe a little sad, a little confused.”

Chessie sighed as Will tried yet again to hang up on her. “Yes, yes, court awaits. No, I don’t want you to be
held in contempt again. And no, she’s
not
a head case. I said confused, not certifiable. That would be the guy you set me up with at your secretary’s wedding reception, remember? Look, I’m not asking you to marry the woman, sport. I just want you to pay her a little attention, that’s all. Maybe take her to dinner a couple of times.

“Why? Because she doesn’t believe in romance anymore, that’s why. I think she’s afraid of it, I don’t think she thinks she deserves it and I think she’s going to make a big mistake if someone doesn’t remind her that her hormones are just resting, not gone. Can you do that? Pay her some attention? Nothing heavy, just flirt a little?”

She heard the bell over the front door of the shop ring to announce another customer. Still holding on to the phone, she began making her way to the reception area as Will pressed her to be more specific in her instructions.

“You want
me
to tell
you
how to be charming? Just for God’s sake, don’t take her to bed. I only want you to wake her up a little, you handsome bastard, you,” she ended, suddenly realizing there might be a problem if her plan worked too well. “I mean it, Will. Shake her up a bit so she remembers she’s not just a mom, but that she’s still young and desirable, and then back off, the way you always do. Nicely! And then we’re even, honest. Well, as long as you don’t try to throw any more blind dates my way. Agreed?”

She smiled at his answer. “Oh, you egotistical pig—I knew I could count on you.”

E
lizabeth pulled her small SUV into a parking space between a battered family van and a shiny black Mercedes-Benz and cut the engine. They were here. At the ball grounds…ball fields…something like that. And twenty minutes late, thanks to a wrong turn off the highway.

“I think that’s your team down there,” she said, pointing straight ahead at the windshield. “Ready?”

The silence from the backseat was deafening.

“I said,” she repeated, unsnapping her seat belt and turning around, “are you ready?”

Mikey took one hand off the handheld game he was playing and held it up, his index finger extended. “Soon as I beat this level, Mom, okay?”

“You’ll never beat that level. You always end up zapped,” his brother said. “You die like a dog, every time.”

Elizabeth reached back and grabbed the game. “Die? Who said you could play games where people die?”

“Oh, Mom,” Mikey whined as the game made a sound much like a dying whistle, followed by a splat. “Now you did it. And nobody dies, doofus, so why did you say that? The game is rated E, for everyone, just like it says on the box.”

Elizabeth looked at the screen and saw an exasperated-looking duck walking out of a pond on large webbed feet, shaking its feathers and glaring at her accusingly. “I’m sorry, Mikey,” she said, handing the game back to him. “Um…better duck next time?”

“Good one, Mom,” Danny told her. “Can we go home now?”

It had been a fight all morning. First to get them both up, then to get them to throw on shorts and tops and tie their sneakers—after they’d found their sneakers. Danny’s left one had been in the freezer and, no, she didn’t ask who had done that, because she already knew. They couldn’t decide what they wanted to eat, they needed to brush their teeth—as if either of them ever did that without first being threatened.

Elizabeth got out of the car and opened the rear side door, motioning to the boys to hurry up. “Today, people. Anyone would think you two don’t want to play baseball.”

“We don’t,” Danny said, grinning at her, his smile
minus his top two front teeth. “But Richard said we should humor you.”

“Oh, he did, did he? Do either of you know what that means? That you should
humor
me?”

Mikey at last undid his seat belt and slid down off the safety booster seat, Elizabeth holding on to his arm as he jumped to the ground. “Not me. I only know that Richard said it’s easier to humor women than it is to fight them. Unless you wanted us to eat spinach or something.”

Elizabeth’s annoyance melted like spring snow under the warm, gap-toothed smiles of her sons. Boys could get away with murder, just with their smiles. Including
boys
who were well into their forties. It was simply impossible to stay angry with any of them.

She made shooing motions with her hands, aiming both boys toward the grassy incline that led down to the small ball field…ball court…whatever.

As she followed them, Elizabeth quickly realized she had already made at least two mistakes, and the boys weren’t even officially signed up yet. One, they were the only children wearing shorts, and two, they were the only children not carrying gloves. No, mitts. She remembered that word from Jamie. They were called baseball
mitts.

Danny and Mikey stopped a good distance from the other children and turned to look at her, their identical big blue eyes that were so much like their father’s gazing at her in mute appeal.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” she said, stepping be
tween them and taking their hands. “Let’s look for Mr. Hollingswood, all right? Chessie told him we’d be here.”

She walked closer, careful to stay to the left of the long white chalk line that seemed to mark the beginning of the playing area, heading toward a low wooden bench and three men who were watching as the children threw balls at each other. Elizabeth would have thought that they were playing catch, except it didn’t seem that anyone was actually catching anything. There was just a lot of throwing and then chasing after the ball going on, except for the trio of boys who were huddled together, examining a worm one of them was holding.

Chessie had said her cousin was a hunk; that was how she’d described him. Elizabeth thought that wouldn’t be much of a help until she got closer to the three men. Then it got very easy to pick him out.

He was taller than the other two men wearing matching bright blue T-shirts with the word
Eagles
stitched on the back at shoulder level. He had none of the softness around the gut the others had. He was wearing classy tan Bermuda shorts as opposed to their baggy jeans, and he had his baseball cap on backward, the coal-black hair beneath it looking mussed in the way only great hair can.

Besides, as he raised the reflective, wraparound sunglasses he was wearing, giving her a glimpse of a pair of emerald-green eyes, and started walking toward her, he said, “Elizabeth Carstairs? Hi, I’m Will Hollingswood, Chessie’s cousin. These your boys?”

That pretty much cinched it.

“Yes, I’m Elizabeth. And,” she said, raising one hand first, and then the other, “this is Danny, and this is Mikey. Boys, say hello to Mr. Hollingswood.”

“Coach,” Will corrected quickly. “It’s shorter. Hi, boys. You like baseball?”

“No,” Mikey said, and Elizabeth gave his hand a warning squeeze, so that her son quickly added, “Thank you?”

“Close, Mikey, but not quite the answer I was hoping for,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Tell Coach you want to learn how to play baseball.”

“But I don’t,” Mikey, always honest, told her not quite as quietly.

“But we need the fresh air,” Danny piped up, always helpful. “And Mom needs the break. That’s what Richard says.”

Elizabeth looked at Will, who had now pushed his sunglasses up on his head as he gazed at her, his smile wide and white and pretty much something out of a toothpaste ad, if
GQ
even allowed toothpaste ads.

“They really don’t know much about sports. I’m sorry.”

“Well, this should be fun,” he said, and Elizabeth felt hot color running into her cheeks. “Do they have mitts?”

“Uh—no, they don’t. But we’ll get them in time for the next practice. Is there anything else they need?”

Danny was giving Will his full attention—sucking up, Elizabeth knew was the term for it—but Mikey had
pulled an action figure from his shorts pocket and was busily turning it into a truck or something. Neither boy was paying the least bit of attention to what was going on beyond that white chalk line.

“We’ve got a list here somewhere,” Will told her, heading over to a large three-ring binder on the bench. “Did Chessie tell you to bring their birth certificates along and proof of health insurance?”

Elizabeth pulled the relevant papers from her purse. “Yes, I’ve got all of that right here. Oh, and a check for seventy dollars. Is that right?”

Will took everything from her, looking up at her as he scanned the check but then quickly sliding it into a pocket of the binder without comment. Richard had written the check, and his name was printed on it. She’d argued with him that it wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted. Not that she was going to tell Chessie’s cousin that…or that she suspected Richard would have just as happily written a check for two months of sleepaway camp for both boys. He liked the twins. He just didn’t have the knack for interacting with them, that’s all. He’d rather buy them something; it was how Richard showed affection.

She watched as Will assembled a few papers and handed them back to her along with the birth certificates and her insurance card. “We’re a new team, what they call an in-house team, so we only play five other teams. Practices go on just about every morning at nine until our first game, which is also at nine. All the games are played on this field. The schedule and the rules are all
on those papers. Six outs a side, no sliding, no stealing, no taking leads and no keeping score so we don’t bruise their little egos.”

He leaned down to be on eye-level with the twins. “And I don’t like this any more than you two do, so let’s just try to get through it together with the least amount of trauma, all right?”

He put out both hands, palms up, and the boys surprised her by grinning as they completed the low fives.

“Okay, Danny? Danny, right? Which one of you two peas in a pod is Danny?”

Danny raised his hand. “Me. I’m the good twin. I got all Excellents in Deported.”

“Deport
ment,
” Elizabeth correctly quietly, rubbing Danny’s blond curls. She really should get the boys haircuts, but she loved their curls. Besides, they had so many years to be grown-up. “And try not to be so modest.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Elizabeth said, sighing. She’d worried that Mikey would develop a complex about his own C-pluses in
deported,
but since Mikey seemed very happy in his game-oriented world, she had decided not to overreact. “Should they go out on the field now?”

Will shook his head. “No, not without gloves. Not that I think they’ll catch anything, but at least they could use them to put in front of their faces if someone puts a little too much on the ball. In fact, today was really just signup day, and I think Danny and Mikey were the last two to arrive. We were just about ready to call them all in.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth nodded, thinking,
Well, that was quick.
And rather a shame, considering how long it had taken her just to get the boys to the field in the first place. “I guess then I’ll take them to buy gloves?”

“Rightie or leftie?” Will asked, and she had a feeling those green eyes were laughing at her.

“I beg your—oh. Rightie. Both boys. So I get them gloves that fit on their right hands, correct?”

“On their left hands. Catch with their left, throw with their right,” Will corrected. “What kind of glove are you planning to buy? Catcher’s mitt? Fielder’s glove? First baseman’s glove? And they might want their own bats, although we have some here, along with a catcher’s mask and pads. Oh, and cleats, of course. They probably should have cleats.”

She looked at him intensely, pretending not to see how absolutely perfectly good-looking he was. “And I’ll bet you think you’re speaking English, too, don’t you?”

Will lifted his hat slightly and scratched at his temple as he looked back at the two other coaches before motioning for Elizabeth to stay where she was because he’d be right back.

He walked over to the coaches, handed one of them the three-ring binder, shook hands with both men and then returned to where she and the twins were waiting. “Okay, that’s settled. Mitch and Greg have volunteered to finish up here. Let’s get these boys some equipment, all right? We can take my car.”

“Oh, but that isn’t necessary,” Elizabeth said, almost
forced to run to keep up with Will’s long strides as he headed up the hill toward the parking lot, just as if her
yes
was assumed. “I’m sure I can ask someone at the sporting goods store to help us.”

Will turned to face her, although he didn’t halt his progress toward the parking lot, walking backward as he addressed the boys. “Who’s up for pizza after we get you guys ready to play?”

“Me!” Mikey shouted, punching one arm in the air as he danced in a circle. “Me, me, me!”

“Can I have pepperoni?” Danny asked, not yet ready to commit.

Will looked at Elizabeth. “If your mom says it’s all right.”

“Mom?”

“This is where I realize I’m beaten and give up and go along, right?” Elizabeth asked, sighing. “Yes, all right. Did Chessie put you up to this?” she asked him quietly as they reached the parking lot. Will was heading toward the black Mercedes, which didn’t surprise her. “Helping me with the boys, I mean.”

“Chessie? No, she didn’t ask me to help you with the boys. Well,” he added, his devastating smile back in evidence, “not exactly in those words. Let’s take my car.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Can’t. Until the boys grow another two inches, they have to ride in safety booster seats. We can follow you, though. I’m parked right here.”

Will looked at the small SUV, which was probably
a toy in most men’s eyes, then to his Mercedes, and then back to the SUV. “I don’t want to lose you in traffic. How about I ride with you?”

Elizabeth did a quick mental inventory of the interior of the SUV, pretty sure there weren’t any crumpled fast-food bags or errant French fries on the floor—at least not in the front seat. “Sure,” she said brightly, too brightly. “Chessie assured me you’re trustworthy.”

“No she didn’t. Chessie may shade the truth from time to time, but she doesn’t outright lie,” Will said, leaning closer to Elizabeth so that the boys didn’t hear him. “She told me you’re gorgeous, by the way. And she’s right.”

Elizabeth backed up two steps, sure her eyes had gone wide and stupid. “You’re…you’re flirting with me?”

“Do you mind? Honesty seems to run in our family.”

She felt her head moving from side to side. Did this man, this absolutely drop-dead handsome man, just agree that he was flirting with her? Her, Elizabeth Carstairs, better known as
Mom?
Her? “Uh…no?”

They exchanged smiles, Elizabeth rather lost in the moment—someplace she hadn’t been in too many years to recall.

Clunk.

“Mom!”

Elizabeth watched as Will’s eyebrows shot up even as his head turned toward his car—his beautiful, black, shiny Mercedes.

“Mikey, what did you do?” she asked, already know
ing the answer before she saw the SUV’s rear passenger door, its edge open against the side of the luxury car. “No! Don’t move! Don’t touch that door,” she said as she raced around the front of the SUV.

“It slipped out of my hand, Mom,” Mikey wailed before turning on Danny. “Why didn’t you catch it?”

“Coach said we don’t know how to catch, remember?” Danny shot back, and then quickly scooted into the backseat and his booster on the far side of the car. Mikey followed him, moving on a par with the speed of light.

“Hands up,” Elizabeth ordered automatically, waiting until Mikey had raised his hands above his head so that she knew she wouldn’t pinch his fingers when she shut the door. Okay, slammed the door. Then she turned, reluctantly, to see that Will was running his fingers down the side of his own back side door. “How bad is it?”