The Bribe (Calamity Montana)
The Bribe: Chapter 6

“WHO IS THAT?” Travis asked, his eyes glued to Lucy as she walked behind the chain-link barrier surrounding home plate.

“That’s Jade.” The false name tasted bitter and not nearly as sweet as Lucy. Maybe if I used it enough, it wouldn’t bother me. “She’s new in town.”

He harrumphed and kicked at the nearly invisible chalk line to third.

I ignored the attitude, something that had been shit over the past two weeks. I’d hoped some ball would help him cheer up and remind him that I wasn’t the enemy. An hour on the field usually put a smile on his face when we met on Fridays to practice, but last week, he’d been grouchy the entire time.

So far, this week was shaping up to be the same.

“Do you want to pitch first or field grounders?” I asked, tossing the ball up with my left and catching it with my right.

“Pitch.”

“All right.” I walked to the chain link where I’d set the bat and my glove, casting Lucy a glance as I pulled on my glove.

Maybe it was stupid to have invited her to watch. Travis clearly didn’t approve. But I hadn’t wanted her to walk away. Today, she’d talked to me unguarded and it had been like speaking to the woman I’d met in Yellowstone. I wasn’t ready to give her up yet, especially because I might not get this version of Lucy back.

She looked content, sitting on one of the team’s benches. This field didn’t have bleachers since it was used as a community field for spring T-ball and coach pitch leagues. Parents would bring their camp chairs and picnic blankets and watch from the grass.

“Have you ever played?” I asked her.

“Does Little League count?”

I chuckled. “It does here. Want to play? You can bat after we practice some pitching.”

“Will you laugh at me if I whiff it?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Well, at least you’re honest, Sheriff.”

Every time she called me Sheriff I found a new love for my title. That voice of hers was like warm syrup, sweet and sticky as it dripped into my ear. I wouldn’t mind hearing it as a whisper as I kissed her neck.

The woman was a magnet.

When I’d come across her, sprawled on the grass, I’d had to force myself to keep on my feet. The urge to drop down on top of her and run my hands over those skintight leggings molded to her toned thighs and perfectly squeezable ass had been crippling.

I’d spent the past four days reminding myself that she was trouble. I didn’t need her drama tangling up my simple, clean-cut life. She had more secrets than Alex Rodriguez had home runs, but one look at her and rational thought had flown out the window. And I was old enough to know my dick was playing a major role here.

When it came to Lucy Ross, I was at her mercy. I’d even resorted to reading that magazine—as expected, there hadn’t been anything interesting inside other than the pictures.

No woman had ever consumed me like this, not even Travis’s mom.

Melanie and I had ended in disaster. The same fate likely awaited me with Lucy, but damn it, there she was, sitting on that bench because I hadn’t been able to send her on her own way.

“Are we going to do this or what?” Travis barked from the pitcher’s mound.

I turned away from Lucy and walked to home plate, shooting him a glare. “Chill, Travis.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, loud enough for me to hear because he knew it would piss me off.

“Watch it.” I pointed at his nose, then crouched in a catcher’s stance behind the plate.

I was barely in place before he wound up and launched a fastball dead center. The sting of the pitch spread through the leather of my mitt and into my palm. When he was younger, I’d pull my hand out and shake it. Make a big deal about how much it hurt.

But at the moment, I was too annoyed to hand out praise.

I didn’t need to stand to fire the ball back just as fast. It hit his glove with a sharp smack and he winced. Travis could get angry and throw the ball as hard as he wanted, but the fact was, I still had the stronger arm.

After a few pitches, Travis relaxed and we settled into a familiar rhythm. Neither of us spoke as he worked his fastball. My muscles loosened and the tension in my shoulders melted away with every pitch. It was hard to stay mad at the kid. My frustration with him never lasted long, especially when we were playing ball.

“Nice.” I caught a pitch and stood, giving my knees a break. “Now let’s work on your changeup.”

“’Kay.” He caught the ball as I whipped it back and adjusted his baseball cap.

Before getting back into position behind home, I glanced over my shoulder at Lucy.

She had her face tipped up to the sky, letting the sunshine peek underneath the brim of her hat. Her eyes were closed and her lips formed a slight smile.

Beautiful. So damn beautiful. Screw the magazine photos. I’d rather stare at her on that bench for hours.

“Duke,” Travis snapped.

Lucy’s peaceful expression broke and she opened her eyes, dropping them to the field.

I shot her a grin, then returned to my crouch behind home plate. “What’s the rush, Travis?”

“I don’t have all day.”

“Did you get a job I don’t know about?” He’d gotten fired from his job at the hardware store last week for not showing up on time eight days in a row.

“No.”

“Then relax. Throw a changeup.” I held out my glove.

He gritted his teeth and threw the ball, but it went wild and hit the chain link.

Exactly in front of where Lucy was sitting.

She flinched but didn’t scream or throw her hands in front of her face. It was almost like she’d expected it.

I stood and went to get the ball. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she lowered her voice, “but maybe I should go.”

“Stay.” Not just for me, but because Travis was going to have to learn to deal with this at some point. “Please.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay.”

I stalked to the pitcher’s mound and held up the ball.

Travis went to swipe it from my grip, but I yanked my hand away before he could touch it.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“Nothing. I missed.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Travis. That was the worst pitch you’ve made in weeks. You don’t miss. You threw that ball exactly where you wanted, so I’ll ask again. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing. I just missed.” His fists unclenched at his sides and his jaw relaxed. Eventually, he might be able to pull off that lie, but his eyes betrayed him. They flicked over my shoulder to Lucy.

Any other day, I’d sit him down, here and now, and have the same talk I’d had with him a hundred times. I wasn’t getting back together with his mom. No matter how hard he wished for it. No matter how many times he begged.

Melanie and I would never be right for one another.

“Do you want to practice?” I handed him the ball.

“Yeah.”

“Then shape up and let’s play.”

He nodded and dropped his gaze to the dirt as I returned to my plate.

Travis and I had been practicing here every Friday this summer. It was the one weekday morning he didn’t have summer school, and it coincided with my day off. We’d spend a few hours together before he took his afternoon shift at the hardware store—except now he’d been canned.

Sports had always been our thing. Whether playing or watching a game on TV, the two of us had always had it in common. Baseball especially.

Leading into the school’s spring season, I’d work with him every Sunday on his throw and swing. Then during the season, we’d play on Sundays because he wanted the extra practice while his teammates were otherwise taking the day off.

Calamity was a small town but our sports programs were solid. The community rallied around our kids, cheering in the stands and shelling out for fundraisers. Both the football and basketball teams had made it to the state championships last year. And the baseball team was constantly improving thanks to the new coach.

If Travis worked hard over the next two years, he stood a good chance at picking up a college scholarship. He had the arm and natural talent. As much as I’d miss playing on this field with him, I wanted that chance for him. I wanted him to go to college and make something of his life.

It was August and we were nearly a year away from the spring baseball season, but I couldn’t wait for school to start at the end of the month. I needed the kids—Travis, especially—back in the classroom full-time. Summer school wasn’t keeping him out of trouble.

I’d had some issues lately with a band of teenagers whose parents didn’t give a shit that their kids were out all night. Somehow Travis had gotten mixed up with them and Melanie didn’t seem to give a flying fuck that I’d caught him two Saturdays ago in my backyard after midnight.

Sitting.

That’s what he’d told me he was doing when the motion light had come on and I’d cracked the sliding door to my deck with one hand, gun in the other.

He’d been sitting.

Yeah, sitting with the faint smell of beer on his breath. I’d been tempted to put him under house arrest.

When I was a kid, summers meant camping with friends and sneaking a couple beers along. Some of my buddies would smoke cigarettes or cigars. He wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t done, but that didn’t make it okay.

Since he’d seemed so damn infatuated with sitting and staring at my yard last week, I’d put him to work in the evenings. I’d had him mow my lawn and trim bushes. Over my lunch break last Saturday, before I’d pulled Lucy over, I’d brought home two gallons of stain for the fence and one paintbrush.

Other than spending time with him and giving him tasks to keep him out of trouble, I wasn’t sure what else to do.

We worked through his changeup and then his curveball. Then I made him do another twenty fastballs. “Good. Let’s work on fielding.”

Travis groaned and trudged toward short stop. When I was his age, I’d hated fielding practice too.

“You ready to show me what you got?” I asked Lucy, picking up the bat.

She stood from the bench and made her way onto the field, taking the bat and ball from me as I held them out. “Are you going to pitch to me?”

“Nah. Just toss it up and hit it. Travis will field it and throw it back.”

“I’ll try. Keep the heckling to a minimum, okay?”

I grinned. “No promises.”

“Is he going to throw one of those fastballs at my face?”

I stepped closer, looking down at those green eyes. “If he does, I’ll catch it.”

There was no way I’d let her get hurt. And I didn’t care if Travis was sixteen, I’d put that kid over my knee if he tried.

Lucy’s gaze dropped to my mouth. “Thanks.”

Don’t kiss her. It was taking every ounce of restraint not to slide my fingers across the freckles on her cheek, bend down and—

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Travis appeared at my side.

I stepped back from Lucy and shot him a glare. “Watch your language.”

“You cuss all the time.”

“Adult.” I pointed to my chest, then poked a finger at his. “Child.”

“What is she doing?” He jerked his chin at Lucy and the bat.

Before I could tell him to lose the attitude, Lucy pushed between us, ball and bat in hand and walked to home plate.

“I haven’t done this since I was a kid.” She tossed the ball in the air two feet and caught it. Then she did it again, testing the movement. When she tossed it a third time, she gripped the bat while the ball was on the rise, took a step back with one foot, lifted the other and swung straight for the ball as she stepped through.

The ball cracked on the bat before it sailed past second base and into left center.

My jaw dropped. “What the hell?” I muttered at the same time Travis said, “Whoa.”

His mouth was hanging open too.

Lucy giggled as the ball stopped rolling in the grass. “Lucky shot.”

“Little League, huh?”

She shrugged. “I might have played softball until I was fifteen.”

I chuckled. Everything about this woman was a surprise. I wasn’t much of a guy for surprises on the regular, but damn if I didn’t like each of hers.

“Hi, I’m Jade.” She returned to where we were standing and held out a hand to Travis.

“Travis.” He shook her hand, still dumbfounded. He looked her up and down, then to the ball in the grass.

I shoved Travis’s shoulder and jerked my chin for the outfield. “Go get the ball.” I crossed the gap between us, that magnetic pull of hers always seeming to drag me an inch or two closer than necessary. “Think you can do that again?”

“Probably.” She winked, then sauntered back to the plate.

My eyes were glued to that ass every swaying step.

I caught the ball as Travis threw it from the outfield, then handed it to Lucy, letting my fingers brush her open palm.

The little touches, the jolts of electricity, were addictive, and each time I returned the ball for her to hit again, I made sure to repeat the chaste caress.

Lucy mostly hit grounders to Travis, who’d come back to his position between second and third. After about the twentieth hit without a single whiff in the mix, she blew out a long breath and handed me the bat. “I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Thank you. That was fun.”

“You’re welcome.” I set my glove aside and tossed up the ball, hitting it far into left field to make Travis run for it and keep him occupied for a minute. “Let me hit him a few pop flies, then I’ll drive you home.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can walk.” She took a step away, waving as she walked backward. “See you around.”

“Lucy,” I said, her name—the sweet one—loud enough for only her to hear. “I’m driving you home.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Please?”

I strode into her space, this time so close that the cotton of my T-shirt brushed against the fabric of her tank top. Close enough that I heard the hitch in her breath. “That wasn’t a request.”

“Bossy,” she whispered. “That’s a new look for you.”

“And?”

“It’s not entirely unattractive.”

I grinned and dragged myself out of her space, turning just in time for Travis’s gaze to narrow on us both.

He stomped across the infield and threw the ball to the dirt. “I’m done.”

“Let’s do some outfield work.”

“No, I’m done.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re busy anyway.”

“Travis.” I crossed my arms over my chest. The warning in my tone was clear. If he walked away from here like this, he’d be in deep shit. I didn’t hold a lot of cards when it came to serving punishments in his life, but I’d play the few I had.

He huffed and looked at Lucy from the brim of his hat. “Bye.”

“Goodbye,” she said.

Without another word, he turned and jogged across the park.

Shit.

“Sorry,” Lucy said.

“It’s not your fault. He’s going through some stuff.” I sighed and went to collect my mitt and bat. Then I nodded for her to follow me to my truck, parked on the street.

“How old is he?” she asked as we fell into step on the grass.

“Sixteen. Wants to be twenty-five. Acts like he’s ten.” Travis’s lanky legs stretched as he crossed the street. “He’s a good kid. He acts like a brat sometimes, but he really is a good kid.”

“And you seem like a good father.”

“I’m not his dad.”

Lucy’s feet came to a halt. “You’re not?”

“No. Sorry, I forget that not everyone is from Calamity.” I didn’t have to explain my relationship with Travis to the locals. “I dated his mom years ago. We broke up when Travis was twelve but I stayed in his life.”

Besides his grandfather, I was the closest thing Travis had to a father. He might not be mine by blood, but I loved that kid.

“Ah. Now it makes sense,” Lucy said, ungluing her feet. “I’m guessing he wants you to get back together with his mom.”

“Pretty much.” It hadn’t taken her long to peg Travis’s attitude. “I’ve told him a hundred times it’s not going to happen, but . . .”

“Kids always hope.”

I nodded. “Melanie and I dated for two years. In the end, I realized the only reason I was staying was for Travis. He needed a constant and that constant was me. And even though I’m not with his mom anymore, I didn’t want to lose him. So I do my best to keep up on his life. Be the guy he can count on.”

She stopped walking again and stared at my profile, her eyes full of disbelief. The skepticism only lasted a heartbeat before she blinked it away and gave me a warm smile. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“Goes both ways.”

We reached my truck and I dug the keys from my pocket, hitting the locks and opening her door, but she didn’t get in. She stood on the grass, studying me.

“You keep looking at me like that,” I said. “Like you’re trying to figure me out.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I’m not a complicated man, Lucy.”

“No, I think you might be the most complicated man I’ve ever met.”

I laughed. “Give it time. You’ll see I’m about as simple as they come.”

She took a step closer. Her hand reached up to pick at a fleck on my shirt. Any bewilderment in her gaze was gone. Instead, there was heat. Lust. Want. My heart stuttered as she lifted her lashes, giving me a sultry smile. “In Yellowstone, in the parking lot, I thought you were going to kiss me.”

Damn, I liked that she could cut straight to it. “I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“But here I am.”

“Here you are.” I lifted a hand and trailed my fingers over the bare skin of her shoulder.

“So?”

So she wouldn’t have to invite me twice. I leaned in, ready to brush my lips against hers, when a horn honked, and I whipped my head up as a familiar SUV drove past.

“Hey, Duke!” Dan, the owner of the hardware store, waved from behind the wheel.

“Hi, Dan!” I lifted the hand that had been on Lucy’s skin.

Dan was a good guy. He ran a successful business and contributed a lot to our community. He’d hired Travis. And he’d fired Travis. He’d called me immediately afterward, apologizing profusely. I’d assured him it was the right decision, and had I been in his shoes, I would have done the same.

“Never a day off, huh?” Lucy asked, stepping away.

“Not in Calamity.” I moved aside and held the door as she climbed in my truck.

When she was settled, I slammed it closed and took a breath, giving myself a second to get my body under control. Damn, but it was tempting to drive her to my house and strip those skintight running clothes off her delicious body.

This woman. Lucy. Jade. Lajade. Whatever she wanted to call herself, it didn’t matter. She had me twisted in knots.

And at the moment, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.