Stealing Home by Tara Wyatt

Nine

Five weeks.

It had been five weeks since Dylan McCormick had neatly inserted himself back into Maggie’s life. Okay, fine, it had been her idea for the two of them to sleep together, but what she’d originally intended to be a fling for the sake of closure was slowly morphing into something else. Something more. Every time she was with him, golden memories resurfaced, as though just being near him pulled them up from the depths in which she’d buried them. She’d spent a lot of time trying to rebury them, but it was useless; they kept popping back up, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the here and now and building some kind of friendship with him. A friendship which, if she was honest, still felt risky. She couldn’t seem to hold herself back from him, and yet she knew what kind of damage he was capable of inflicting.

Somehow, being Dylan’s friend felt far more dangerous than sleeping with him. She was trying to keep her walls in place, but he kept chipping away at them. Pulling them apart one brick at a time until she couldn’t help but give him glimpses of her soft, hidden center.

It was terrifying. She was already giving him too much of herself, but she didn’t know how to stop. How to hold just enough of herself back so that if he hurt her again, she’d survive it.

“We are not dating. I do not have feelings for Dylan. We are friends who have sex. Really, really great sex. This is temporary, and when it’s over, I’ll have closure and will be able to move on, no harm done.” She repeated the words to herself under her breath, her daily mantra. Her reminder. Her affirmation that she wasn’t playing a risky game with her heart by spending time with Dylan.

“Did you say something?” asked Jess, frowning down at her tablet.

“Sorry, just talking to myself. What do you need me to do?” she asked, wiping her palms on her jeans. Activity buzzed around them as the team’s charity event, Little Longhorns Day, was about to get underway. This type of event wasn’t really Maggie’s responsibility, but Jess and Laurel had mentioned they could use a hand, and she was happy to help her friends out.

“There’s another box of children’s hats in the storage area by the visiting bullpen. Can you grab it?”

“On it,” Maggie answered with a little salute. They’d been blessed with gorgeous spring weather for this year’s Little Longhorns Day. The sun shone down on the field, not a cloud in the sky, and a light breeze blew. The temperature hovered somewhere in the high seventies, and the air smelled fresh, the scent of freshly cut grass mingling with the warm air. Once she’d retrieved the box and deposited it with Jess, Maggie surveyed the field, a sense of satisfaction filling her. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day for the kids.

About a hundred children between the ages of six and twelve were on the field, accompanied by about twenty Longhorns players. Some were running through drills and exercises with Alejandro Cruz, while others were receiving one-on-one coaching from various players. Others waited at the face painting station, wanting to get the Longhorns logo on their cheeks. Later, there’d be a dunk tank where they could practice their newly acquired throwing skills by trying to dunk Lucky Longhorn, the team’s troublemaking cowboy mascot. Excited laughter and cheers mixed with the upbeat pop music playing through the stadium’s speakers, and she couldn’t help but smile. For these kids, this would be a day to remember, and she was happy to be a part of it.

As she scanned the field, she spotted Dylan. She hadn’t been looking for him, but she hadn’t exactly not been looking for him, either. He crouched down in front of a young girl with blond pigtails and placed a baseball in her hand, gently adjusting her grip on it. Then, very slowly, he mimed an overhead throwing motion, moving with easy athletic grace as he showed her the proper movements and when to release the ball. The little girl watched him earnestly, her big eyes serious. She was a skinny little thing, with knobby knees and a face that hadn’t seen enough laughter. Maggie felt a pang of tenderness toward the girl; she could’ve been looking at herself for all the similarities.

Dylan rose from his crouch and took a few steps away from the girl, holding out his glove. Heat flushed through her as she watched him. His baseball pants clung to his muscular ass and thighs, his corded forearms rippling, his jersey framing his broad shoulders. His usual stubble coated his jaw and the sweet, encouraging smile he flashed the little girl melted something deep inside her. An unexpected wave of possessiveness crashed into her as she stared at him, leaving her feeling adrift and confused because she didn’t know what to do with it.

The little girl threw the ball right to Dylan, and he caught it easily. He smiled even bigger and jogged back toward her for a high five, which she gave him with a shy giggle. He handed the ball back to her, encouraging her to try again. He was so sweet with her, so at ease, that it made something twist and tighten inside Maggie, as though she were being squeezed from the inside out. It hurt and felt good at the same time, a sensation she both wanted to run from and run toward.

Dylan moved back beside the girl and crouched down again, showing her how to hold her glove with the edge flush against the ground. When he was satisfied with her positioning, he moved back to where he’d been standing and gently rolled the ball toward her. He was teaching her how to field a ground ball, Maggie realized. The girl clamped her glove down on it.

“Good job, Kaylee!” he called out, and the girl beamed at him. She rose and threw the ball back to him. Dylan was a good teacher—kind and patient. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d learned firsthand what a good teacher Dylan was. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered their date at the batting cages all those years ago. The feel of his arms around her, his warm, solid body pressed against her from behind as he adjusted her grip on the bat. They’d been dating for a week or so and had only crossed first base, but she was hungry for more. She’d missed nearly every ball that had come her way. She’d been too distracted with how good he felt and all the things she wanted—far more pressing, urgent things than hitting a baseball. It had been the first time she’d felt him, thick and hard beneath his jeans, pressed against her ass. Feeling bold, she’d pressed her hips back and rubbed against him, eliciting a groan that had practically set her skin on fire.

“Tell me what you want,” he’d whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

“I want…I want you to touch me.”

He’d dropped a hand from the bat to her stomach, his fingers pointing down to where she ached to be touched. “Hit the ball, Mags.” His voice had been low and gravelly. As though he needed to touch her as much as she needed it.

She’d never been so desperate to hit a damn baseball in her life.

“Oh my God,” came Jess’s voice from beside her, snapping Maggie back to the present. “I don’t even like dudes, but he is so freaking hot it’s ridiculous. I mean, those eyes. Those arms. That smile. That ass. Damn.” Jess made an appreciative purring sound. “How are things going with him, Miss ‘I-have-nothing-to-share?’”

Maggie smiled and touched her fingers to her lips. “Um, good, I guess.”

“Just good? Is that why your cheeks are on fire?”

She laughed, feeling self-conscious. “Okay, fine. Better than good. We’ve decided to be friends. With benefits. It’s been…pretty great, actually.”

Jess nodded thoughtfully. “Friends, huh? How’s that working out?”

Maggie shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s made things easier, in a way.”

“How’s that?”

“There are no games. We have rules we agreed on, and we both know what’s up. It keeps things simple.”

Jess arched an eyebrow at her. “Rules like what?”

Maggie waved a hand. “Oh, like it’s temporary, just sex, booty calls only, no romance, no catching feelings. That sort of thing.” No sleepovers. No cuddling, her brain added helpfully, listing the rules they’d broken probably a dozen times now.

“Gotcha. So you’re, like, totally free to date other people and stuff.”

“Um…well, not exactly.” Heat swirled over her as she remembered the way Dylan had made her promise she wouldn’t sleep with anyone else while they were doing…whatever it was they were doing.

Jess sent her a knowing smirk. “So, you’re friends who sleep together and don’t date other people. You’re basically dinner and a movie away from being a couple.”

“We’re not a couple.” Dating Dylan McCormick wasn’t an option. She wasn’t going to be that woman, the one who didn’t learn from the past.

“Then what are you?”

Maggie opened and closed her mouth. “I…we’re friends with benefits. That’s it.”

“If you’re sure.” Jess laid a hand on Maggie’s arm. “Just…be careful, babe. Okay? Look after yourself. Protect your heart.”

Maggie nodded. “I will. I am.”

“Good. I’m going to go check on the dunk tank.”

Maggie nodded, her eyes immediately moving back to Dylan. Kaylee was now leading him toward one of the face painting stations. The little girl tugged on his hand, urging him into one of the kid-sized chairs, and Maggie bit back a smile at the way Dylan’s knees almost came to his shoulders. He was so kind and warm with her—not that she’d expected anything different from him—that it was turning her insides into melted marshmallow, all sticky and sweet and soft. The lingering doubts from her conversation with Jess grew louder and harder to ignore, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was getting sucked in like a bird into an airplane engine. Unable to resist and doomed from the start.

Kaylee put a little red bow in Dylan’s short hair and he laughed, leaving it exactly where it was. Maggie wasn’t even melted marshmallow anymore, but something far less solid. Weak and mushy.

Remember what happens to the bird, Maggie. Remember what happened to you when you tried to fly too high, up where you didn’t belong.Because just like it would be pure insanity for a bird to chase an airplane, she’d be insane to let herself get caught up in feeling anything for Dylan again.

No catching feelings. He’s just a friend.

Laurel came jogging up to her, slightly out of breath. “Hey, have you seen Lucky? I can’t find him.”

Maggie shook her head. “No, but I’ll go take a look around. Maybe he’s running late.”

She headed off to do a sweep of the off-field area, walking faster than normal to try to burn off some of the heat watching Dylan had stirred up inside her. But there was no sign of Lucky—or rather, Mitch, the man who played Lucky—anywhere. As she headed back toward the field, her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her back pocket.

Laurel: I just heard from Mitch. Apparently he had some bad oysters yesterday and he won’t be able to make it.

Jess: Crap. Crappity crap crap

Laurel: We need to figure out a replacement. Any ideas?

Maggie spun to head back to the field, jumping into action to help her friends when she collided with a hard chest, and a set of strong hands gripped her arms to steady her. She looked up to find Dylan staring down at her, and she burst out laughing.

A very messy, very glittery Longhorns logo adorned his handsome face, courtesy of Kaylee. The little red bow still clung to his hair—barely. Maggie pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain her laughter, but he looked so ridiculous that she couldn’t help it.

Dylan dropped his hands and planted them on his hips, his eyes sparkling. “What? You don’t like my new look?”

“Uh…it’s something, that’s for sure.”

He started laughing too and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Didn’t have the heart to say no to her.”

“I can’t blame you. She’s pretty cute.”

“Kinda reminded me of you.”

Maggie bit her lip, trying to contain her smile as her insides warmed and butterflies unfurled in her belly.

“What was it—the knobby knees? The horrible makeup skills?”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “Nope. She was sweet and fun and earnest. It was adorable. Probably why I couldn’t say no, even though I’m now covered in glitter.”

His words touched something deep inside her, making it a little harder to breathe. She reached out and brushed some stray glitter off his shoulder. She wanted to let her hand linger, to curl her fingers into the solid muscle there, but didn’t. They were supposed to be friends, and none of her thoughts were particularly friend-like right now. Everything was getting all tangled up, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

She rubbed her fingers against her thumb, trying to dislodge the glitter. “You had sparkles on your jersey.”

Dylan leaned a bit closer, a mischievous smile on his face. “I think I have glitter in places where there is definitely not supposed to be glitter. I’m going to be finding it for weeks.”

Maggie laughed. “It is the herpes of the craft world. Once you have it, you have it for good.”

Dylan wrinkled his nose. “That’s an appetizing visual.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rocked back on his heels and glanced over his shoulder at the field. “Event seems to be going really well. The kids are having a blast. Well, at least Kaylee is.” He winked and a few new butterflies joined the others. She tried to squash them down. Butterflies were not a good thing. Butterflies meant feelings and feelings meant things would be over between them and…shit. She didn’t want them to be over. And she sure as hell didn’t know how to feel about that.

“You guys have all been great today.” She tipped her head and smiled, gesturing at his horrendous face paint. “But I do think you get today’s good sport award.”

He held his hand over his heart. “Always happy to take one for the team.”

A thought occurred to her, and she looked up at him, biting her lip. “Would you be willing to take one more?”

“What do you need?” Warmth rolled over her at the way he asked without hesitation, stepping up to help immediately.

“Mitch, the guy in the Lucky costume, is sick and can’t make it today, which means we don’t have anyone for the dunk tank.”

Dylan’s eyebrows rose. “And you want me to fill in?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but I saw how great you were with Kaylee, and with Mitch calling in sick at the last minute—”

He cut her off, an easy smile on his face. “Okay. I’ll do it. I mean, it’s just water, right? There’s no sharks or gators in there waiting to take a bite out of me?”

“I’ll tell them to cancel the piranhas if you’re going to be a wimp about it.” She tried and failed to keep a straight face, a grin pulling her lips upward.

Dylan laughed. “I’ve missed you, Mags. I know you probably didn’t miss me, and I can’t blame you, but you need to know that I thought about you. A lot.”

She sucked in a breath and nodded, unsure what to say to that because despite the pain he’d caused her, she couldn’t deny that she had missed him. But she couldn’t tell him that, so she changed the subject, steering them back onto safer ground. Don’t be the bird. Don’t get sucked into certain destruction.

“I need to go check on some things. See you at the dunk tank?”

Wariness flickered across his face, but then he chased it away with a smile. “Yeah. I’ll come find you.”

Before she could say anything else, she turned and fled in the opposite direction, needing some space to figure out what the hell she was feeling.

* * *

Cold water dripped into Dylan’s eyes, and he brushed it away, then swiped a hand over his hair, dislodging more drops. His uniform was soaked through and stuck to his skin like glue, and he was starting to get chilly, but his discomfort didn’t matter. The kids were having an absolute blast sending him splashing into the water.

Another kid stepped up to the line for his turn, and Dylan stuck his tongue out at him, egging him on. The boy, maybe ten or eleven, narrowed his eyes and focused on the large button at the center of a bullseye, took aim and threw the baseball, which hit the metal release with a sharp ding, sending Dylan right back into the water. He popped back up, shaking his fist in pretend anger at the laughing boy.

Gripping the edge of the tank, he reset the seat and hauled himself back onto it. His cleats were ruined, but it was worth it, both for the smiles on the kids’ faces, and to be able to do Maggie a favor. He was starting to realize he’d do just about anything she asked of him if it meant a second chance at being with her. She hadn’t responded to his admission earlier that he’d never stopped thinking about her, and it had left him a little off-balance, but he was trying to remember that it was all about baby steps. And the baby step there was that she hadn’t shut him down or pulled the plug on what they had going.

“You doing okay?” Maggie asked from beside the dunk tank, looking up at him with concern.

He nodded. “Sure. Kids are having a great time.”

“I know, but you’re soaked through and that water’s not very warm. I think it’s probably time to wrap this up.” He didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his chest. His sopping wet uniform didn’t leave much to the imagination. Despite the chill on his skin, his insides heated at the feeling of Maggie’s eyes on him. He was already imagining all the ways she could help him warm up.

After the last few kids who’d already lined up had had their turn, dunking Dylan once more, the dunk tank was officially closed. He climbed out, water coursing off of him and goosebumps coating his skin. Maggie met him with a large, fluffy towel that felt like it was fresh out of the dryer, wrapped it around his shoulders and then motioned for him to follow her off the field. He did, leaving a soggy trail behind him, his wrecked cleats making undignified squelching sounds as he walked.

Maggie led him past the visiting team’s bullpen and to a small storage room. When she opened the door, a rush of warm air greeted him. He stepped inside, sighing as his muscles relaxed, the grip of cold starting to loosen.

“I thought you might be cold,” she said, reaching out and rubbing the towel against his arms.

“Thanks.” He closed his eyes for a second, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Maggie’s hands working the towel over his arms. He was perfectly capable of operating his own towel, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do after you helped out by volunteering for the dunk tank. I was getting worried about you in there.”

Her concern warmed him even more. “Like I said before, I’m happy to help.” Especially if it was for her. He needed her to see that he’d grown, that he wasn’t the same stupid teenager who’d thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Once again, her eyes roved over his body, his wet uniform still clinging to his body. He stood still, letting her look. Her nipples beaded beneath her Longhorns T-shirt and he bit back a groan. Needing a distraction before he tried to fuck her right here in the storage room, he took the towel from her and rubbed it over his hair and face. When he pulled it away, it was smeared with face paint. Shit. He’d forgotten all about Kaylee’s handiwork.

Maggie started to laugh. “You’ve somehow made it worse,” she said, and then held out her hand. “Here, give me the towel. I think I can get it off.”

He handed it to her and with slow, careful strokes, she rubbed the point of the towel over his cheek. He wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the room, or the heat of Maggie’s body so close to his, but he wasn’t cold anymore. No, he was burning, his heated blood scorching him from the inside out.

His hands practically vibrated with the need to touch her, and unable to help himself, he skimmed them over her waist and to her hips. She made a soft humming sound and continued to gently wipe away the face paint, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He let his eyes wander over her as she worked. He studied the delicate features of her face and the soft curves of her body. It felt like she got more beautiful every time he looked at her. Like he couldn’t breathe right around her. He dipped his head and kissed her, a soft, slow kiss that made her sigh and press into him. Taking his time, he let one of his hands wander from her hip to the outer curve of her breast, teasing with light touches. The towel in her hands hit the floor as she wound her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and stroking her tongue against his.

“Mags,” he whispered, moving to pull her tighter against him, but she suddenly pulled away. Clearing her throat, she wrapped her arms around herself and glanced around the room.

“Don’t call me that,” she said softly, shaking her head as she stared off. Shit, they were back to that. Dylan sighed and forced himself to smile, aiming for rueful.

“Sorry. Old habits.”

She just nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. Her eyebrows knitted together, little lines digging in between them. Dammit. He’d freaked her out with what he’d said earlier.

“So listen,” he said, changing the subject, pretending everything was fine. “I got roped into going to this charity thing on Friday night. It’s a casino night to raise money for the Dallas Children’s Health Foundation, and they gave me an extra ticket. You should come with me.”

“Like, as your date?”

He was smart enough to shake his head. “As my friend. C’mon, it’ll be fun. Don’t make me go alone.”

Her eyebrows rose slowly as she thought. “Okay. As your friend. Sure.” She didn’t sound sure, but she’d said yes, so he’d take it.

It was all about baby steps.