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“Tell me what was so important you’d risk ending your career.”
“What does it matter?” He presses his body against mine. Tension sizzles between us. And not the agitated kind from earlier. This is the kind that makes me want to do naughty things. The kind I haven’t felt since leaving Bellow Bay.
“Because I care.” My voice comes out breathy. He’s so close I feel every intake of breath and the rapid beat of his pulse. That smoldering gaze drops to my mouth. I don’t have time to think before those lips I’ve dreamed of since leaving Bellow Bay are touching mine. Then they move in a way that is everything I remember plus more. The kiss is exhilarating and passionate with a hint of desperation. Okay, there’s a lot of desperation. Our arms fumble for placement until his hands land on my waist. Our tongues collide, reuniting as if we’re each other’s source of survival. I lose myself in his touch and in the deep, guttural sounds he exudes. In everything about him, because, oh my goodness, I feel alive for the first time since hearing about Mom’s diagnosis.
I push the thought of Mom aside and focus solely on him. My hands cup his face, the slight stubble tickling my palms. He deepens the kiss, and it’s just me and him and no one else. That is until barking cuts through the bubble we created.
Wait, barking. That must mean Dad’s home.
We pull away in haste, and I pray Dad isn’t nearby. By the way our chests heave and the lust buried in what I’m sure is both our eyes, Dad would figure out what we did in a heartbeat.
Dalton leans closer, cupping my jaw and running his thumb across my lips.
“You belong with me, Cassie. No one else. I don’t know how, but wewillbe together. Mark my words.”
Chapter Twenty-One
CASSIE
“Areyou going to tense up every time your boy steps to the plate?” Nicole asks.
I feel Nicole’s crooked smile on me, but my gaze doesn’t stray from the batter. My nerves are frayed. “Dalton needs to have a good day today. He can’t afford any more misfortunes.”
This is the first home game they’ve played since the bar fight. We’re in the bottom of the seventh, and Dalton’s having an incredible game, going two for two with three runs batted in. I’m not surprised Dad started Dalton, given his natural talent, but I keep waiting for the moment he tests him. I know it’s coming.
“Did you find out what caused the fight?”
“No. From what I gathered, the guy from the other team must’ve talked smack.” Although Dalton never said, I pieced together that conclusion from what Bobby had told me and what I overheard Dad say. I have a suspicion there is more to the story than Dalton let on. Something the guy said triggered him that night. I just don’t know what.
I suck in a sharp breath as the opposing team’s pitcher winds up and throws the ball. Dalton swings and misses. My groan comes out louder than intended.
“Relax. He’s two for two and had an excellent defensive day. Did you see the split he did when he made that one out?”
“Uh-huh. But he needs this hit.” I know my dad. The minute he messes up, Dad will yank him to see if he’ll keep his temper in check. That’s just how my dad is. I’ve heard him talk about his strategy multiple times throughout the years. He may have sent me away every summer after the one that shall not be named, but he always talked about his tactics on reforming his players. He is harder on the players staying at our house. The poor sap becomes Dad’s pet project.
Another pitch is delivered, and Dalton connects with the ball but sends it foul.
“Have you told your dad about your breakup with Bobby?”
That question earns Nicole a glare. “What do you think?”
I divert my gaze back to the field.Come on, babe. You got this.
“He’s going to find out. I’m surprised CC hasn’t called and told him yet.”
“Bobby hasn’t accepted it yet.”
Dalton takes ball one.
“What do you mean?”
“I keep telling him we want different things, but he won’t let me break it off.”
“Won’t let you? You simply say, ‘I’m breaking up with you. We’re done.’”
“Every time I say that he tells me that’s not what I want.” I clamp my mouth shut as irritation lights a fire inside me. Every time I visualize his condescending smirk, I want to scream. “I’m so tired of men controlling my life.”
“That’s because you let those men gaslight you too much.”
