Chapter 1

ONE

CARRIE

I puff fast breaths in and out, my lungs ready to eject out my mouth at my racing from the cab, plopping my bags on the floor, plopping my ass in a seat in the VIP Lodge seating area of the Bay City Stadium to watch the Wolves baseball team win. I know they're going to; they have to. They've been on a losing streak and the only way to stay in and get into the playoffs is to win.

My stepfather is up to bat and he gets the most home runs even at the age of forty. Hoots and screams and whoops chant, "Cal.Cal.Cal." Fists thrust in the air in triumph of his arrival at the plate.

I haven't seen him in a year with university taking all my time. We've talked a little on the phone but that's it. Since my mom died two years ago, he seems to have lost interest in me, and I want to know why. He's been my father since I was ten, my father having run off two years earlier with a younger woman without any children.

He walks up to the plate, tapping it with his bat. He's a leftie and gets into position. He glances over to the pitcher waiting for the first throw. The pitcher nods to his catcher, winds up and throws a hundred mile an hour pitch. How do I know? It says it on the big board.

Cal swings, a loud crack fills the stadium, the ball flies and flies and flies. Everyone stands, my hands at my mouth, heart following closely behind and in third place my stomach. The ball reaches the stands, I squeal, jumping up and down, some whistle in triumph and others scramble, some of them with mitts ready to catch the home run. My body bubbles with the excitement filling the stands, it's overpowering, like the electric energy of a tornado.

I lean out to watch the shenanigans as a bunch of spectators jump, leap, scramble on the ground for the elusive ball. After a few minutes of a couple women and men almost coming to fist fights over it, a tween boy comes up, his arms over his head crowing with the ball in his hand. I know Daddy will sign it for him after the game.

He laps his way around the bases, reaching home plate to cheers from his team and groans from the opposing team. He raises his arms high in victory and the stadium cheers, even from the opposers.

Running over home plate he continues on to the team's dugout, disappearing from sight. I sit again, leaning back, arms crossed over my chest wearing my hot pink Bay City Wolves t-shirt.

I'm a bad fan. My only interest in the team is my stepfather, Calvin Bay. The sexiest forty-year-old man in existence. In my opinion anyway. He makes my heart pitter patter like a Joanne Lindsey romance novel heroine.

He might not come back out again unless they go into overtime because the game is tied and almost over. Three to three.

My gaze latches onto where he went hoping for one more sight of him before the end of the game. I continue staring until I hear the yells and whoops as if through a waterfall. Wide eyed I stare down at the field astonished I missed the rest of the game staring at the dugout. What an idiot. I'm a twenty-five-year-old university graduate ready to go on to start the rest of my studying for a law degree.

This crush I've had since I met him at ten has to end, because that's all it is. A little girl's crush, not a grown woman's love. I've just never been interested in any other boy or man besides him. The men at Stanford act like strutting arrogant and conceited boys compared to Cal. That's what he told me to call him when I left at seventeen to start my new life. Not dad anymore. Cal. Like he was an acquaintance, not my stepfather for seven years.

The Wolves fans are running around and all the members of the team race onto the field to accolades of their win. I should go down there and congr?atulate Cal, he's gazing around him as if he's looking for someone. I can't let my hopes get up that it's me he wants there. Probably a new girlfriend, after all he's such a in shape older man and a widower.

I think maybe he sees me; the wide-eyed expression let's me know I surprised him. He starts grinning in my direction and waving at me to come down. Blushing, my face and ears hot as a furnace, I give him a quick nod and as quick a tiny smile.

"How do you know, Cal?" A soft voice asks beside me.

I jerk my head to the side, a woman older than me, not by much. Leans close, her face has an almost yearning, covetous look as she gazes down at him. A negative, scorn rises up wanting to vent at her. I've never had a jealous bone in my body before. Is she, his girlfriend? My stomach hardens with the burning of an out-of-control wildfire.

"And you are?" I hate to be that woman, the hostile one on the attack.

"Oh me?" She slides her gaze away from me as if looking at something, gazes back at me, a big, fake smile curving her mouth. "I'm just a friend. He seemed to know you."

I look away from her back to the diamond but everyone from both teams have left. I stand, moving away from the woman I'm starting to dislike, I'm trying to get away from her before I say something I might regret. I don't know her and I never want to if I can help it, if she's friends with Cal like she says she is I might have to suck it up and pretend like she is.

"Hey, you didn't tell me who you are?"

Her shadow presses against me as if it's her body. I don't like it.

"Same." I don't say anything else to her, her vibes are freaking me out. Somehow, she's sending out a stalker ambience. I continue gathering my bags I brought with me from Stanford, wanting to get away from this woman fast as I can.

I sling one bag over each shoulder and a bag in each hand lugging them out the box seating area, one thump of a bag at a time.

"Ma'am. Ma'am, let me help you." A deep, hurried voice says behind me. I quickly turn my head and give the young man a harried smile, rushing over to me, gabbing the bags as the strange woman tries to stop me. I'd call her out for harassing me but I don't want the bother.

I don't know who she is or why she's so in my face, unless she wants to find out what I am to Cal. Unless she is more to him than just a friend.

"Are you his stepdaughter? Hi." She giggles an unpleasant snort, "I was there this morning when he ignored your message. Didn't you get the hint?" Her voice high and snippy, grates on my soul. My soul has always been Cal's, even as a kid. Of course, he never knew my heart has been his since I met him at ten-years-old.