Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RIPLEY

I knock on Quincy's door at ten in the morning. He opens it in board shorts and no top. Holy fuck, he's hot. It's been a long time since I've seen his naked body, and I'm suddenly feeling a bit of an ache for it. I have to bite my lip in an attempt to maintain a cool demeanor.

Quincy Abbott is just so…manly. Every inch of him. In an era where men think women want waxed chests, Quincy is all man with a healthy dose of blond chest hair a little darker than that on his head. He's broad and sexy as hell. I love sinking my nose into him and taking in his scent. And the trail that leads down from his belly button into his shorts. The one I've traced with my tongue many times.

I know my cheeks must be flushing. I can feel them heating up at the memories of our time together.

He quirks an eyebrow. "You're not looking at me in a very friendly manner, Shortcake."

Shit. I bring my eyes up to his. "Sorry. "

Christ, I need to get laid. I haven't had a non-self-induced orgasm in several long months.

He smirks. "Anytime you want to take advantage of your husband, you just let me know. Our bodies work quite well together." He rubs the back of his hand along my face. "More than well."

My mouth and panties are pooling. He does make a compelling case. It's been a little while for me. No one makes me come like Quincy Abbott.

No, no, no. I can't go there. My feelings for him are too strong. I know where he stands. I can't do this to myself all over again. I'm not trashing the small amount of progress I've made.

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm all set, thanks. Did you answer the door topless on purpose?"

He winks at me. "You know I never wear a top. Summer in Philly is hot as hell."

"You live in what must be a two-million-dollar condo. I imagine you have ample air conditioning."

He chuckles. "I'm always a little extra hot when I'm around my wife." He looks my body up and down. "So sexy."

I roll my eyes. "Stop calling me that."

"Sexy? Can't help it. That's what you are."

I sigh. "You know what I meant. Stop calling me your wife."

He mouths, "Never."

I swear he does it just to fuck with me. At least we're back to a playful place. I prefer that to awkward, forced polite conversation.

"What is it you need help with, Abbott? If it's to clean your apartment, I'm leaving."

He lets out a laugh. "No, but I do miss your clean freak ways. You kept my place in Houston spick and span. You're still the only woman I've ever allowed in my space. "

I nod, unable to otherwise form words.

"Let me grab a shirt, and we'll head out."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

We walk out the door just as a little old lady and an enormous dog walk by. I think I saw her with Quincy at our game the other night.

The dog immediately pulls away from the woman and jumps up on his hind legs into Quincy's arms, licking his face. Quincy smiles just like he did when Diamond used to kiss him. I have a brief moment of nostalgia remembering their loving relationship. I also remember how devastated he was when Diamond died. Inconsolable for weeks. Arizona and I kept bringing him his favorite candy, hoping it would make him feel better.

Quincy rubs the dog's tummy. "Relax, Thor. I'll walk you later, buddy."

Thor drops down and walks over to me. With a huge smile, I pet his head and rub behind his ear. "Ahh. So gorgeous."

Quincy nods. "I know. And he's a gentle giant." He wiggles his eyebrows. "And this stunner is my girlfriend, Blanche."

Blanche blushes. Is there any woman immune to Quincy Abbott? She swats his chest playfully. "Oh stop it. I'm not your girlfriend. I have no interest in that type of commitment. I'm your side action."

I can't help but let out a laugh. Quincy grins from ear to ear.

She turns to me. "You must be Ripley."

I pinch my eyebrows together. "You've heard of me?"

Quincy quickly responds, "I brought Blanche to one of your games. Cheetah was hitting on her all day."

She nods. "He reminds me of my husband, God rest his soul. He wants me to be a cougar to his Cheetah." She rubs Quincy's arm. "He means nothing, darling. I'm still holding out hope that you will come around."

I smile. "It's nice to meet you, Blanche, though you have questionable taste in men."

She giggles. "It's hard to resist a beefcake who never wears a shirt."

I nod. "He's been refusing shirts since he was a little kid."

She winks. "Lucky us."

Quincy clears his throat. "Blanche allows me the honor of walking Thor a few times each week. He's my best buddy."

I internally laugh at his name, considering Quincy actually looks like Thor, and I may have a thing for that particular character because of it.

I continue rubbing Thor's ear, which he seems to like. "I assume Quincy told you about his dog growing up. Thor looks just like her."

She nods. "He has. Quincy's been a godsend to me. When I moved from our big house to an apartment, I hadn't considered how much exercise Thor would need. I'm so thankful for Quincy."

He shrugs. "It's how I'm worming my way into your heart."

"I'd rather you wormed your way into other parts of my body."

I can't help the very loud cackle that comes from my mouth. I feel like Blanche is Kam in fifty years. I sort of want the two of them to meet.

Ten minutes later, we're in his car. We seem to be heading away from the city, toward the suburbs.

"What's my sister up to today?"

"She and Layton went for a jog around the river."

His jaw clenches. "Those two are getting mighty chummy. "

I shrug. "I think they realized being friends is easier. That's all it is."

"It better be."

"Why do you care? She's a big girl. Layton seems like a good guy."

"He's a womanizer."

"So are you, Abbott."

He adjusts himself. "Stop calling me Abbott. It makes me think of the Mariana Trench, which, incidentally, has been in my dreams a lot lately."

I sigh. I'd be lying if I said that little interaction doesn't play in my mind from time to time as well. Both the good, he made me come so hard, and the bad, it was our last time together before I ruined it by telling him that I love him.

Without thinking, I look down at his dick. The bulge is, in fact, becoming a bit more prominent. I have flashes of what he feels like inside me. What he tastes like. I had many nights taking that monster deep into my mouth and driving him crazy. And the one time I did it to him in the car…

"Are you thinking about that time on the way to Lake Jackson when you sucked my dick in the car?"

I turn my head toward the window. "No." Shit. Busted. I went down on him while he was driving, and then we parked overlooking the lake where he bent me over the hood of the car and gave me three orgasms.

He squeezes my leg. "I was thinking of it too."

I close my eyes. It's a mistake to spend time alone with him. I hate how attracted I am to him. When will it finally go away? Why can't I feel this with other men?

The drive starts to get bumpy. I look around and realize we're on a gravelly, dirt road. "Where are we?"

As we reach a clearing to a big, empty piece of land, I see a man with shoulder-length hair in jeans and a blue button-down shirt, waiting by a big pickup truck.

"I bought this lot. I'm having a house built on it."

"A house? How come?"

"I've never owned one. I think I want to stay here in Philly even after I'm done playing, but I'm sick of city living. I've been doing it for twelve years. I want space with a big yard. I want a giant media room, a pool for parties, and that kind of crap."

I point to the man. "Is he the architect?"

"No, he's the builder, but he offers design-build services. The team owners recommended him."

"Oh, I met one of them. Reagan Daulton."

He nods. "Yes, she and her husband, Carter, recommended this guy. Apparently he built their house, which is supposed to be the nicest in Philly. You have great taste. I thought you could help. I don't know about paint colors and shit."

"A pre-design meeting with a builder has nothing to do with paint colors."

"You know what I mean. I want a woman's touch. I don't want the house to be a bachelor pad cliché."

"You want me to help you design your new house?"

He nods. "I do."

"You could have asked your sister."

"Hmm. I prefer the taste of redheads, and I mean that in every way possible." He wiggles his eyebrows up and down and I roll my eyes.

We pull up next to the truck and get out of his car. The man, about forty years old, who incidentally is ridiculously attractive, smiles and holds out his hand to us. "I'm Collin Fitz. It's nice to meet you both."

Quincy shakes Collin's hand. "I'm Quincy Abbott. This is my wife, Ripley. "

Collin pinches his eyebrow together in obvious confusion. Quincy Abbott is well known in this town as a bachelor.

I sigh. "He's joking. I'm not his wife." I hold out my hand. "I'm Ripley St. James. I'm just a friend helping make sure this house doesn't turn into a bachelor pad whorehouse." I turn to Quincy. "Though I could see you as the Hugh Hefner of the East Coast."

I bat my eyelashes and Collin laughs. "I know who you both are. I didn't think you were married."

We hear his passenger car door open and a woman, a little younger than me, who's dressed to the nines in a business pantsuit, exits and stands.

She's a stunning blonde who's as tall as me and about seventy pounds lighter. Collin points to her. "This is my baby mama, Jade. When I'm a good boy, she helps me out with the design aspect of things. She does virtual modeling."

She smiles at him. It's neither sweet nor innocent. "I prefer you be a bad boy, but whatever." Jade turns to us. "Yep, designer, baby mama, and sex goddess. I'm a full-service woman."

Collin starts laughing before nodding. "It's true, she's all those things."

I study her. There's something very familiar about her. Maybe I've met her before.

She notices and apparently can read my mind. "No, we haven't met. Reagan Daulton is my cousin. We look alike."

I let out an audible breath. "Yes! That's why you're familiar. You two really do look alike."

"Yep. I know. And your team co-owner, Beckett Windsor, is my stepfather. Well, soon-to-be stepfather. My mom won't make an honest man of him just yet."

"Got it. I've met Beckett's daughter. She comes to our games. "

"Yes, my soon-to-be stepsister loves softball. She plays. She even has a poster of Arizona in her bedroom."

Quincy sighs. "At least she's not a teenage boy. Unfortunately, I have a lot of them telling me they have her poster in their bedrooms too."

Jade and I both giggle at that.

Collin leads the way as he lays out some general thoughts to Quincy. They seem to be getting along well. Jade loops her arm through mine as we walk a few feet behind them. She looks me up and down. "I love having a woman who's my height. I always tower over people."

I smile. "I know the feeling. I always feel like a giant. At least my softball friends are all tall too."

"Right. Arizona is tall. And you and her grew up together, right? I think I read that somewhere."

"We did. We've been best friends our whole lives."

"So…does she know you're sleeping with her brother?"

I stop dead in my tracks. "What makes you say that?"

"Hmm. I heard him call you his wife, he brought you to this meeting, and every time you talk, he looks at you like he's about to devour you. I know what a man in lust looks like. He's lusting hardcore for you."

"I don't think that's true. We're not together."

"That's not what I asked, but I think I have my answer."

"You're kind of nosy, Jade."

She lets out a laugh. "You don't know the half of it. Why aren't you together? You're obviously equally into him."

I let out a breath of exasperation. Man, I need to do a better job hiding things. First Bailey, and now a stranger.

She squeezes my arm. "It's clear to me that something has or is going on with you two. It's also clear to me that Arizona doesn't know. You must need to unload on someone."

She's kind of right. I wouldn't mind someone to talk to. She's the only person I know without any real connection to Arizona.

"We've known each other most of our lives. I pined for him from afar for years until the day he noticed. We've been secretly on and off for years, but that ended nearly two years ago. We want different things in life. I want marriage and family. He wants none of those things."

"Why?"

"In his mind, he had a less than ideal upbringing and doesn't want to duplicate it."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

She nods as she appears to think for a moment. "You know, I used to feel similarly. My father was absent from my life for a long time. My mom might be marrying a billionaire now, but she and I struggled throughout nearly my entire childhood. I was dead set against ever committing to one man or having a child. Now I have both."

"What changed your mind?"

She turns her head and looks lovingly at Collin before looking back at me. "I found my soulmate. I want to be with him and no one else."

"Maybe I'm not his soulmate."

"Maybe not. If that's the case, you need to stop hanging onto him and start looking elsewhere."

I consider her words for a moment. "We met ten minutes ago. I love that you feel it's appropriate to offer me life advice."

She gives me a mischievous smile. "No need to thank me now. You'll thank me later. I promise."

Collin turns back. "Jade, you're supposed to be helping me. I need you to focus on Quincy's vision so you can make it come alive in your designs. You're not listening."

She places her hands on her hips and lifts an eyebrow. " Quincy wants a non-bachelor pad bachelor pad. A classy frat house vibe. He wants the amenities of a bachelor pad, like a stupid-big media room, unnecessarily oversized bars, and both indoor and outdoor party spaces, but he doesn't want stripper poles, dance floors, and disco balls. I'm guessing leather couches and animal print rugs are out too. He's from California, so we'll add a touch of that by having a lot of big windows and other modern amenities. Obviously everything will revolve around this amazing view of the skyline." She crosses her arms. "How's that for not listening?"

Quincy mumbles, "Holy shit, she must have dog ears."

Collin winks at her. "Let's hope Tyson has your brains, baby girl."

Jade blows him a kiss. "Agree. And for his sake, let's hope he's hung like you, big daddy."

Quincy cough-laughs at the same time Collin nods and replies, "A perfect combo."

These two are a riot. Though Collin's right, Jade is smart. Maybe I need to start actively looking elsewhere so I can finally put Quincy in my past. As much as he can be while I'm still married to him.

A cute guy from my gym asked for my number and has texted me a few times. He's asked me out, but I put him off. Maybe I should give it a go.

My thoughts are interrupted by Quincy. "What do you think?"

I look around. It truly is an impressive piece of land. "It's a gorgeous space." I look at Collin. "Quincy likes a lot of natural light, so the windows Jade mentioned make a lot of sense. He's a big man, so everything should be a little oversized. The shower, bathtub, ceilings, doorways. Make sure the kitchen is gourmet, complete with a wood-burning pizza oven. Quincy can cook, and pizza is his specialty. He's always wanted his own pizza oven. Not a high-tech one but an old-school pizza oven."

Collin scribbles away on his notepad but Quincy turns to me. I think I catch tears welling in his eyes.

The drive home is met with silence at first. Eventually he turns to me and whispers, "You remembered."

One day, when I was only six or seven years old, Arizona wasn't at school and Quincy wasn't on our bus. I didn't know why, so I went straight to their house when the school day was over. I found Quincy in the kitchen. I asked him where she was. He said she was sick and that he stayed home to take care of her because their parents had to work.

He was making a pizza from scratch. Flour was all over the kitchen, which, of course, I immediately cleaned. I asked him about it. Normally, people eat soup when they're sick. He said pizza was his specialty and that it always made Arizona feel better. And boy, was he right. It was the best pizza I ever had. He told me that when he was a rich baseball player, his dream was to have a house with one of the real, old-school pizza ovens.

I nod. "I remember everything you've ever said to me," I mumble, "the good and the bad."

He grabs my hand and squeezes it. "I've missed you."

I don't respond. I can't.

Sensing a topic change is needed, he says, "I found this hole-in-the-wall pizza joint. They have one of those brick ovens you rarely see anymore. You have to order your dough in advance. Maybe we can go sometime."

"You sure you want to be seen in public with me?"

He pulls his hand away, clearly annoyed by my comment. "I hate when you say stuff like that."

"Quincy, I don't think I can spend any more time alone with you. It's confusing for me. I'm moving on. I have a date coming up, and I need to see it through. "

I don't officially have the date yet, but that's semantics.

I see his jaw stiffen.

"You can't have it both ways. You don't want to be with me—"

"I'd happily be with you."

"You want to have sporadic booty call sex with me. Not date me. I'm twenty-eight. That's not what I'm looking for."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let's talk about something I know we can agree on. I assume you realize who we play tonight, right?"

I nod. "Of course." They're playing the team Marc Whittaker, Arizona's ex-fiancé, is on. "Arizona doesn't want to go to the game even though you're pitching. We're gonna chill at our place and watch a movie."

"I don't blame her. She should stay away from him."

"Don't bean him again. It's enough with that."

A small smile finds his lips. "We'll see. Sometimes the ball just…slips out of my hand." He shrugs. "I can't help it."

"You're going to throw at him, aren't you?"

"You bet your sexy ass I am."

"You'll probably get suspended."

"Worth it."

"She doesn't want you to."

"Too bad. He has it coming."